Again in this history I see an instance of Christ's wondrous power over the minds and hearts of men. Orpheus, they say, moved rocks and trees by the magic of his music, and birds and beasts were tamed by the eloquence of Francis of Assisi, but the music of Christ's speech was more alluring still, for it held even His enemies spellbound — it led captivity captive. Wiser than Solomon, more eloquent than Demosthenes, never did man speak as He, and hence the thousands, forgetful of all else, followed Him far into the wilderness. But the lesson I would set before you to-day deals not with Christ's almighty power in deed or word; rather it concerns His sublime unselfishness, and His tender sympathy with the needy and unfortunate. Seeing the multitudes, He had compassion on them and said to His disciples: " Give ye them to eat."
Brethren, for some weeks previously so busy had been Christ and His disciples in and around Capharnaum, preaching and healing, that the Gospel says they had had scarcely time to eat. Hence it was that Jesus gently drew His immediate followers apart, and embarking sailed with them across Genesareth to the opposite shore. But the thousands in Capharnaum, bound for the Passover at Jerusalem, were not to be denied. Hurrying as best they could around the lake's northern shore, they presently arrived at the mount to which the little band had retired for rest and nourishment. Brief rest, slight nourishment, for immediately they descend and resume their labors. It is worthy of notice that the Hebrew words used to
