Tractates on the Gospel of John

⁵ Meanwhile, He, the one great High Priest being above (He who has entered into that within the veil, the people standing without; for Him that priest under the old law, who did this once a year, did signify): He then be ing above, what were the disciples enduring in the ship? For that ship prefigured the Church while He is on high. For if we do not, in the first place, understand this thing which that ship suffered respecting the Church, those incidents were not significant, but simply transient; but if we see the real meaning of those signs expressed in the Church, it is manifest that the actions of Christ are a kind of speeches. “But when it was late, says he, His disciples went down to the sea; and when they had entered into a ship, they came over the sea to Capernaum.” He declared that as finished quickly, which was done afterwards—“They came over the sea to Capernaum.” He returns to explain how they came; that they passed over by sailing across the lake. And while they were sailing to that place to which He has already said they had come, He explains by recapitulation what befell them. “It was now dark, and Jesus had not come to them.” Rightly he said “dark,” for the light had not come to them. “It was now dark, and Jesus had not come to them.” As the end of the world approaches, errors increase, terrors multiply, iniquity increases, infidelity increases; the light, in short, which, by the Evangelist John himself, is fully and clearly shown to be charity, so much so that he says, “Whoso hates his brother is in darkness;” that light, I say, is very often extinguished; this darkness of enmity between brethren increases, daily increases, and Jesus is not yet come. How does it appear to increase? “Because iniquity will abound, and the love of many will begin to wax cold.” Darkness increases, and Jesus is not yet come. Darkness increasing, love waxing cold, iniquity abounding—these are the waves that agitate the ship; the storms and the winds are the clamors of revilers. Thence love waxes cold; thence the waves do swell, and the ship is tossed.

6. “And a great wind blowing, the sea rose.” Darkness was increasing, discernment was diminishing, iniquity was growing. “When, therefore, they had rowed about twenty-five or thirty furlongs.” Meanwhile they struggled onward, kept advancing; nor did those winds and storms, and waves and darkness effect either that the ship should not make way, or that it should break in pieces and founder; but amid all these evils it went on. For, notwithstanding iniquity abounds, and the love of many waxes cold, and the waves do swell, the darkness grows and the wind rages, yet the ship is moving forward; “for he that perseveres to the end, the same shall be saved.” Nor is that number of furlongs to be lightly regarded. For it cannot really be that nothing is meant, when it is said that, “when they had rowed twenty-five or thirty furlongs, Jesus came to them.” It were enough to say, “twenty-five,” so likewise “thirty;” especially as it was an estimate, not an assertion of the narrator. Could the truth be anything endangered by a mere estimate, if he had said nearly thirty furlongs, or nearly twenty-five furlongs? But from twenty-five he made thirty. Let us examine the number twenty-five. Of what does it consist? Of what is it made up? Of the quinary, or number five. That number five pertains to the law. The same are the five books of Moses, the same are those five porches containing the sick folk, the same are the five loaves feeding the five thousand men. Accordingly the number twenty-five signifies the law, because five by five— that is, five times five— make twenty-five, or the number five squared. But this law lacked perfection before the gospel came. Moreover, perfection is comprised in the number six. Therefore in six days God finished, or perfected, the world, and the same five are multiplied by six, that the law may be completed by the gospel, that six times five become thirty. To them that fulfill the law, therefore, Jesus comes. And how does He come? Walking upon the waves, keeping all the swellings of the world under His feet, pressing down all its heights. Thus it goes on, so long as time endures, so long as the ages roll. Tribulations increase, calamities increase, sorrows increase, all these swell and mount up: Jesus passes on treading upon the waves.