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"The Stilling Of The Storm"

The Sea of Galilee is as dangerous as it is beautiful. Located 680 feet below sea level, it has a fertile climate that is almost tropical. The hills surrounding the lake are carved deep with ravines and gorges which act like gigantic funnels drawing the cold winds toward the sea. In a matter of seconds, the calm surface of the water can become a raging, churning cauldron.

Such was the experience of the disciples in our story. The day had been a busy one. Mark states that Jesus had preached his message to the people using many parables. The people had listened attentively but few understood. Jesus was exhausted, so he left the crowd, took his disciples with him, and got into a boat.

Barclay points out that, "The boats of the Galilean fishermen were quite large and a little unwieldy, with one mast and one great triangular sail. At the stern of the boat, just in front of the helmsman, there was a little platform-like deck and on it a cushion, and it was the custom that distinguished guests sat there while the boat sailed."1

Apparently Jesus went to the back of the boat, stretched out on the pillow and went to sleep. Suddenly a strong wind blew up and the waves were so large they began to spill over into the boat. The disciples panicked and rushed to wake the sleeping Jesus. "Teacher, don't you care that we are about to die?" they cried out. Jesus got up, and commanded the winds and the waves to be still. The winds died down and there was a great calm. Jesus, however, was not so calm; he turned to the disciples and said, "Why are you so frightened? Are you still without faith?" But the disciples could not answer him. They were so amazed at the sudden calm of the sea that they could only say to each other, "Who is this man? Even the wind and the waves obey him!"

This is the way Mark tells the story. Matthew and Luke tell the same story, except that they all have a slightly different version of the exact words Christ spoke to the disciples. Matthew (8:26) has Jesus saying, "How little faith you have." Luke (8:25) states that Jesus asked them, "Where is your faith?"

Allegorical Interpretation

There have been several approaches taken by interpreters to this little miracle.

The historical approach has been that of allegory. Each detail of the story becomes a representative symbol. The boat is the church; the sea, the life situation on which the church sails. The storms are the troubles and the persecutions that the church encounters.

Luther saw this miracle as a parable of life. When Christ enters our lives we should expect that storms and tempest will follow. Luther also saw the story as a lesson teaching us "the nature of true faith, how it braves the battle and the storms and comes to Christ relying upon his help."2

Van der Loos is very much to the point when he speaks against such allegorizations of this miracle. He writes, "But when the fishing boat which was once in distress on the Sea of Galilee is converted into the 'ship of the Church,' it should be realized that this conversion is affected purely and simply in the shipyard of the imagination."3

Topical Interpretation

A common homiletical use of this miracle is to withdraw from the story a topic such as "fear," or "faith," or "the Word" and proceed to develop a sermon not on the total text but simply the selected topic. For example, Chapel has a sermon based upon this miracle entitled "Defeating Our Fears," where he develops the general theme, "Faith Overcomes Fears."4

Spiritual Interpretation

Close to the allegorical approach is the popular interpretation which spiritualizes the storm and sees the miracle as an example story that Jesus can and does bring peace to us in the midst of any of the storms that life thrusts upon us. William Barclay, for example, in his book And He Had Compassion, identifies the various storms of life -- the storms of temptation, passion, worry, and fear. He concludes that "if we remember that Jesus is always with us, we will find the storms of life become a calm."5

The Focal Point Of The Miracle

There are two possibilities when looking at this story. The one places the focus on the disciples and their faith or lack of it. The other places the focus on Jesus and his power over nature. They are related and could possibly be combined into one sermon, but for the sake of clarity let's look at each separately.

Desperate Disciples

When the disciples and their problem is our main concern, then the story becomes an account of human faith, or lack of it.

The "what" of the story becomes the fear of the disciples in the midst of a storm. According to Wallace, the faith of the disciples failed. The storm had entered and so captivated their minds that their faith was driven out. The implication that the disciples had no faith, or what little faith they had was destroyed is a possible interpretation based on the accounts of Mark and Luke where Jesus asks, "Where is your faith?" or "Are you still without faith?" But it would cause some problems with Matthew's account where Jesus says, "How little faith you have."

Wallace points out that the cry to Jesus for help was motivated by the fear of the storm rather than faith in Jesus.6 Now it is true that fear is destructive. There is the classic legend of the peasant who gave an old lady a ride. When he discovered that her name was Cholera, the dreaded plague, he made her promise him she would kill no more than ten people in his village. When she left the village, one hundred people had perished from the plague. The angry peasant took the knife she had given him as a pledge of her promise and started out after her. When he finally caught up with her on the road, she grabbed his hand that was raised to kill her and assured him she had kept her word. "I killed only ten," she said. "Fear killed all the rest."

President Roosevelt, in his first inaugural address (1933) during the terrible depression, said to the nation, "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."

It is true that much of the social reform that we see about us is motivated by fear rather than faith. Much of the equal rights movement was motivated by the public fear of racial riots and political upheavals. It was not so much a victory of faith in human dignity as fear of inhuman reprisal.

And this is wrong. For not only did Jesus come that we might be motivated by faith, but that fear might be overcome. He constantly called us to resist fear with faith. He said to the disciples, "Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid" (John 14:27). And John adds (1 John 4:18) that fear is to be cast out by "perfect love."7 As we are commanded to love, we are equally directed not to fear. The disciples, therefore, had failed. Fear had overcome them. But it does not necessarily follow that they had lost all faith. Matthew presents Jesus as seeing in the situation "little faith." This seems to be more consistent to the plot of the story. For if the disciples had lost all faith, it would seem that their actions would have been far more radical. The first reaction to terror is foolish panic. When the cabbage leaf fell on Chicken Little and she thought that the whole sky was tumbling in, her panic foolishly drove her straight into the den of the dreaded fox. So the disciples, gripped by sheer terror, would likely have done something foolish and irrational, like jumping into the sea. But they did not; they went to Jesus.

The other common human reaction in a state of total fear is to be scared stiff, to be paralyzed and able to do nothing. But the disciples did not freeze in their moment of terror. They turned to Jesus. And this would seem to indicate that they did have enough faith to turn to their Lord.

Little Faith

Here, as in many other passages, the issue is not the amount of faith but the quality of faith. Faith as a state or relationship to God is extremely complex, because it involves the total facilities of a person -- what he thinks, what he feels, what he does.

Rodin created his great statue, The Thinker, to represent thinking as action -- positive, painful action. He wrote, "What makes my thinker think is that he thinks not only with his brain, with his knitted brow, his distended nostrils and compressed lips, but with every muscle of his arms, back and legs, with his clenched fists and gripping toes." So with faith; the total person is involved. The problem with the disciples' faith in the fishing boat is that it was only emotional. They were in danger and Christ was asleep. If only they had stopped to think about their situation, they would have reasoned that the presence of Christ awake or asleep was sufficient security for their salvation. Christ wasn't apart from them; he was with them. But they didn't stop to think. They simply reacted emotionally. When Jesus criticized their faith, he was not referring to the amount or quantity of their faith. They had a great amount of faith in him when they cried out, "Save us!" But it was all emotional. Jesus pointed out to them that their faith was too narrow, too limited; it should have included their minds -- their thoughts -- their thinking.

Often this is true of our faith. It is simply emotional. When God is bombarding us with evidences of his presence, we have no problem believing. As long as we can feel God at work in us, our faith is strong. But when God is silent, when he seems to be asleep and unaware of us, our faith leaves us.

A little boy was taking a train ride for the first time. When it came time to go to bed, his mother put him in the upper berth and told him not to be afraid because she was there, his daddy was there, and God was there and they would all look after him. When the lights were turned down, the little boy called out, "Mother, are you still here?" "Yes, dear." "Is Daddy still here?" "Yes, dear." "Is God still here?" "Yes, dear." About five minutes later the voice was heard again, "Mother?" "Yes, dear." "Are you still here?" "Yes, dear." "Is Daddy still here?" "Yes, dear." "Is God still here?" Five minutes later the same thing and on through the night until about one o'clock, the little voice was heard again. "Mother?" "Yes, dear." "Are you still here?" Then a great, gruff voice at the end of the pullman rumbled through the car, "Yes, your mother's here. Your daddy's here. Now shut up and go to sleep." There was a sudden silence in the train, and then the little voice spoke up once more, "Mother, was that God?"

So with us. When our faith needs voices, visions, and feeling to sustain it, our faith is immature -- little faith. It needs to grow up, to mature to the point that it involves our minds, our thoughts, and attitudes as well. We need to reach the point that we know God is present even when we cannot feel him or sense his presence. This happens when we stay close to his Word, study it, and make its message a part of our total being.

We need to add, however, the lack of a mature faith which the disciples exhibited did not mean they were lost. They may have lost faith in Jesus, but he had not lost faith in them.

It is to their credit that, faced with a storm and the resulting fear, the disciples took what little faith they had and placed it in Jesus. Because of this the situation did not overcome them, but it was the presence of Christ that made the difference.

Luther catches this point in his sermon when he comments that the little faith the disciples possessed was enough in the presence of Jesus. Great faith doesn't need Christ's assurance or presence. Great faith stands before God without need of the support and strength of a savior. Little faith needs a Christ! Luther writes, "If the faith of the disciples had been strong ... they would have said to the sea and the waves: Beat against us as you may, your forces are not strong enough to overthrow our boat, for Christ our Lord is on board with us...."8 The disciples had only a little faith but they invested it in a big Lord and that is why they were not destroyed.

The Object Of Faith

The important aspect of faith is not the amount we have, but the object of our faith. A little faith in Christ is sufficient, for it is Christ and not the quantity of our faith that eliminates fears and calms storms.

There were two men; one had $50,000 to invest and the other had $5,000. The man with the $50,000 invested his money in a fly-by-night business that ultimately failed. The man with $5,000 invested it in a solid, reliable growing business. Today the man who had $50,000 is broke, but the man who had $5,000 is now financially secure.

So with the disciples; they took what little faith they had and placed it in Jesus. When even a little faith is entrusted to a great Lord amazing things are bound to happen. A mustard seed can move mountains, and the miracles are marvelous to behold. For the decisive issue is not the amount of faith but the object of our faith. And there is no greater than Christ our Lord to place faith in.

A Healthy Fear

So far in our discussion we have assumed that all fear is bad and should be overcome. Let us pause for a moment and consider this miracle from another point of view -- healthy fear.

When William Barclay deals with this miracle, he titles the chapter "The End of Worry and Fear." He takes the position, as we have pointed out above, that many scholars, teachers, and preachers have when dealing with this miracle, namely, faith overcomes fears, and that is good. Barclay comes to the conclusion that we can pray away our terrors, if we have enough faith. His last statement is, "If we remember that Jesus is always with us, we will find the storms of life become calm."9

It is true that we cannot deny what difference the presence of Christ makes in a person's life, nor do we deny the power of prayer. However, when we look at the story of this particular text, there are some problems with such an interpretation. During the storm the disciples are afraid. They turn to Jesus and he calms the storm -- but he does not calm them. Mark and Luke state and Matthew implies the disciples were far from calm. Mark states at the end of the account, "They were terribly afraid." So far as the story is concerned, the fear of the disciples is not calmed or eliminated but transferred from fear of the storm to fear of the person of Christ himself. They cry out in fear, "Who is this man? Even the wind and the waves obey him!" In the light of this, the point the miracle story makes is not how to overcome fear, but of whom we are to be afraid -- the demons in the sea or the Lord over the sea? And the answer is obvious -- we are to fear the Lord.

Now this is not to deny that Jesus wants us to overcome our fears and not be afraid. But faith overcoming fear should not become an overall general principle that is applied to every situation. There are times when fear is good. There are times when fear is an ally of faith and not its enemy. The Old Testament, particularly the Psalms, are filled with positive views of fear: "Serve the Lord with fear" (Psalm 2:11). "In thy fear will I worship" (Psalm 5:7). "I will teach you the fear of the Lord" (Psalm 34:11). "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom" (Proverbs 9:10). This fear means, of course, not the panic that filled the disciples in their little storm-tossed fishing boat; it means instead a healthy respect for the power of God. But both fears, the fear the disciples exhibited toward the storm and the fear we should have toward God, come from a common basic view of life that we are not in control. There are powers far greater than ourselves that ultimately determine the outcome of our lives.

This is the meaning of this miracle story -- not how faith overcomes fear, but in whom we should put our faith and our fears. Who is it that ultimately has control of our destiny? Is it the demons that dwell in nature, or is it the Lord Christ? This is the real issue of this story -- not how much faith we have, but how much power God has over our lives. This places the focal point of the story not on the disciples and their faith, but upon Christ and his power.

The Cosmic Christ

When we place the focus of our attention on Jesus, then he becomes the important who of the story which determines the plot of this miracle. And it becomes a story about the cosmic dimensions of Christ and his power and authority over all of nature.

A fierce storm is stilled. The Greek word used here is often translated "rebuked the winds and the waves," which literally means be muzzled or gagged. The suggestion is that the storm is a demon that is to be bound and gagged.

There Are Demons In The Sea

The disciples were men of their age. They shared the world view of their time. It was a simple understanding of the world in which they lived. Every kind of trouble, disorder, and disaster was due to demonic forces. These forces were personal -- they were creature-like servants of the evil one. Therefore, the actions of nature were not an unbreakable chain of cause and effect; nature was governed by powers which possessed personalities and wills. Disease, deformity, and mental disturbances were signs of demonic possession. Storms, earthquakes, and all disasters in nature were the raging activity of demons. History was a battlefield where the forces of good struggled to survive against the forces of evil.

When the storm suddenly arises from nowhere, the wind beats against their faces, the lightning strikes, and the waves whip like a mad monster about them, threatening to capsize their little boat, the disciples must have thought that a whole legion of demons had attacked them. Their cry is a cry of cosmic terror, "Save us, Lord, we are perishing." This was not just the cry of men fearing a storm and death; this was a scream of sheer fright in the presence of the demonic. They were not just afraid of dying; they were afraid of falling into the hands of the evil one.

Not Man's Faith But God's Power

Jesus awakes from his sleep. He stands up and, Matthew records, "... gave a command to the winds and to the waves and there was a great calm." The fact that Jesus spoke not to the disciples but to the storm would also suggest that the issue here is not man's faith or lack or it, but God's power.

If the intent of the miracle had been faith and man's need of it, then it would seem that Christ would have spoken a word to the disciples. He would have issued a commanding word with one of two results. Either he would have given a word of faith to the disciples so that they might destroy their fears, or he would have given them a word that would have enabled them to have faith despite their fears. The meaning of the miracle would then certainly be an example of how faith overcomes fear. However, Jesus speaks not to the disciples, but to the wind and the waves.

The reaction of the disciples supports this, for they were amazed not that they had been given faith, but that Christ had authority and power over the demonic in nature. "Even the wind and the waves obey him."

Jesus did not pray to God asking him to still the storm, which is what the disciples more than likely expected in such a situation. Rather, to the disciples' surprise, Jesus acted like God and spoke like God. He spoke a word of authority and power -- the demons fled -- the winds retreated -- the waters responded and were calm. All the forces of nature, good and bad, obeyed the Lord. Because of this, the disciples came to realize that their ultimate destiny was not decided by the demonic but by God. And in some mysterious way this man Jesus was God exercising his power and authority here on this earth.

Demons Today?

Now what does this say to us today? We no longer believe that demons are at play in our world causing disease and disaster. Or do we? Are there not evidences that we still believe in impersonal forces which have power in some way to determine our destiny? We call these forces fate, luck, chance. We talk about odds and averages. We read our horoscopes and follow the science of astrology.

We laugh at the ideas of demons but we knock on wood for luck. We practice all kinds of strange superstitions. We construct our offices, buildings, and apartment houses with no thirteenth floor. When things go wrong we remark, "What will be will be." When we lose, we say that fate was against us. We spontaneously wish each other, "Good luck."

It seems that no matter how sophisticated we become, we hold on to the belief that there are basic forces which operate willfully within our world and somehow determine our destiny. To this common attitude our miracle says -- our lives are not determined by chance, fate or luck, but our lives are in the hands of God. And he and he alone will determine our ultimate destiny.

The Gripping Hand Of God

God determines our destiny and this is our hope, our joy, for the God we are to fear because of his great power is pure love. God is love and held in his grip of grace all fear is cast out. Fear brings us to recognize the power of our God, thus enabling us to experience the full effect of his love for us. God's love is not the weak affection of the romantic; rather it is the gripping, strong, and courageous love of the redeemer.

A brilliant young Hungarian named Gabriel came to Oxford to study the philosophy of science. But all the while he was studying, his mind kept returning to his homeland now under the harsh heel of Communist occupation. Finally, he knew what he must do.

He returned and gave himself to the struggle for freedom in which his people were secretly engaged, working as a leader in the underground resistance corps of Christian youth fighting to free their beloved country from the pagan Russian yoke. After little more than a year, he was arrested, brought to trial, accused of treason, found guilty, and sentenced to death. The night before he was to die, his brother who was an influential member of the local Communist party, came to him in his prison cell to make a proposition. "Denounce publicly Jesus Christ," his brother said. "Let us use your statement as propaganda for our country's youth and we can guarantee your safe passage out of the country and back to Oxford."

Without hesitation, Gabriel calmly but firmly refused. "But why?" pleaded his brother. "Why throw your life away for something so uncertain as faith? You are a sensible, intelligent, scientifically-trained young man. Can you prove all these things you confess? Can you prove the virgin birth, the incarnation, the resurrection? Can you prove that Christ even lived?"

"No," answered Gabriel.

"Then why?" argued his brother.

Gabriel was silent for a moment. Then, reaching into his torn and dirty shirt, he brought out into the dim light of the prison cell the little gold communion cross that hung from a chain about his neck.

"Why?" Gabriel answered, studying thoughtfully the simple cross that lay in the palm of his hand. "Because, before I heard the message of this cross I was lost and alone and afraid, just like you are. But once I heard the words of my Lord from the cross, once I learned from these God's great desire to love me for his own, from that moment on I was no longer lost, no longer alone, no longer afraid."

The next day they took Gabriel out into the drab, gray yard of that prison and stood him against the wall. In the cold, crisp morning air the rifles cracked and his strong young body crumpled to the snow-covered ground. He died still clinging to that simple little cross in his hand.

I know this because, several years later, after the bloody Hungarian revolt, Gabriel's brother wrote a letter to me in which he told this story. The fast-moving, treacherous events had brought a change in his life. Christ had found him and he was a newborn man of faith. He denounced Communism and joined the Christian church. Let me quote for you the last few words of his letter. He said, in closing, "I know now that on that decisive night when I stood with my brother Gabriel in his prison cell it was I who had chosen death -- it was Gabriel who had chosen life!"

This is the meaning of this miracle: Our God is an all-loving and all-powerful God. When he is present in the little boat of our life we are never alone, will never be lost and need never fear. For nothing -- no force in all the world -- is powerful enough to snatch us from his loving and powerful grip.

____________

1. William Barclay, And He Had Compassion (Valley Forge: Judson Press, 1976), p. 84.

2. Martin Luther, Sermons on the Gospels, Vol. II (Rock Island, Illinois: Augustana Book Concern, 1871), p. 262.

3. H. Van der Loos, The Miracles of Jesus (London: E. J. Brill, 1968), p. 649.

4. Clovis Chapel, Sermons From the Miracles (New York: Abingdon Press), p. 101.

5. Barclay, op. cit., p. 86.

6. Ronald S. Wallace, The Gospel Miracles (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1960), p. 58.

7. Ibid., p. 59.

8. Martin Luther, op. cit., p. 264.

9. Barclay, loc. cit., p. 86.