It was in His power to experience this or that, or to experience nothing. For the Word assumed soul and flesh, adapting to Himself the whole nature of man in the unity of His Person.
The soul of the Apostle was illumined by the Word. The soul of Peter was illumined by the Word. The soul of Paul, the souls of the other apostles, and the souls of the holy prophets were illumined by the Word.
But of none of them was it said, "The Word became flesh" (Jn 1:14). Of none of them was it said, "I and the Father are one" (Jn 10:30).
The soul and flesh of Christ, together with the Word of God, are one person, one Christ. And this Word, in whom supreme authority abides, bore weakness by His own will. Thus He troubled Himself.
I have spoken of the authority. Now consider the meaning. How gravely that Lazarus was guilty is indicated by the four days of death and the burial.
Why did Christ trouble Himself, if not to show you how you ought to be troubled when you are weighed down and crushed by so great a burden of sin?
For you have turned attention upon yourself, seen your guilt, and thought about yourself: "I did this, and God spared me. I committed this, and He showed forbearance to me."
"I heard the Gospel and despised it. I was baptized and returned again to what I had been before. What am I doing? Where am I going? How shall I escape this?"
When you speak in this way, Christ is already groaning, for your faith is groaning. In the voice of one who groans, the hope of his resurrection sounds.
If faith is within a man, Christ groans there. If faith is in us, Christ is in us. For what else did the Apostle say: "that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith" (cf. Eph 3:17)?
Thus your faith in Christ is Christ in your heart.
The account of Christ sleeping in the boat bears witness to this. When the disciples felt danger and shipwreck was about to occur, they came to Him and woke Him.
Christ arose, commanded the winds and the waves, and there was a great calm (see Mt 8:24-26). So it is with you.
The winds break into your heart, that is, into the place where you sail and where you pass this life, like a stormy and dangerous sea.
The winds break in there, raise waves, and shake the boat. What are the winds? You heard an insult and became angry.
The insult is the wind. Anger is the wave. You have entered danger. You are ready to answer, ready to repay slander with slander, and your boat is close to shipwreck.
Wake Christ, who sleeps in you. You are disturbed and ready to repay evil for evil because Christ sleeps in the boat. For the sleep of Christ in your heart is forgetfulness of faith.
But if you wake Christ, that is, if you restore faith, what will Christ say to you, as though awakening in your heart?
"I heard, 'You have a demon'" (cf. Jn 7:20), He says to you, "and I prayed for those who reviled Me." The Lord hears and endures; the servant hears and is angry.
"But you want to be avenged." "Why? I have already been avenged."
When your faith says this to you, it is as though it commands the winds and the waves, and a great calm comes.
Thus, to wake Christ in the boat means to awaken faith. Likewise, in the heart of a man burdened with a huge mass of sins and the habit of sin, let Christ grieve.
In the heart of a man who disregards even the Holy Gospel, and in the heart of a man who despises eternal torments, let Christ grieve. Let the man rebuke himself.