Mark 4: 37-41 (paraphrased by me)
While Jesus and his disciples were in a boat, a storm came up. The wind blew and the waves splashed into the boat, so much that it began to fill with water. Jesus, meanwhile, was sleeping in the back of the boat. The disciples woke him up, saying “Master, don’t you care that we’re about to drown?” And Jesus got up and told the wind to stop blowing, and told the water to be still. Then he turned and said to his disciples, “why are you so afraid? don’t you have any faith?” The disciples were terrified, and whispered to each other, “what kind of man is this, that even the wind and the water obey him?”
Lately I’ve been getting a lot of requests from my son for “the wind that obeyed!” We pull out his book of Bible stories and he finds the page where the story starts. I read the story, complete with sound effects, rocking, and blowing.
To be honest, this story really bothers me. It’s confusing. And lately it’s like God is using Zeke to put it back in my face, day after day.
The first thing I have questions about, and the thing that’s always confused me about the story, is Jesus’ response to the disciples. He calms the storm, then turns around and lectures them about their lack of faith.
Was he mad they woke him up? Or was he just mad they were afraid? Did he think they should have been bolstered by his sleeping presence and endured the storm in faith? Was the problem that they woke him up to ask for help, or was the problem that they were afraid?
As I sift through these questions in my head, I make resolutions for how I should ask Jesus for help in the future. I think about how I might have handled the disciples situation.
Alternate response ideas:
They could have said “Oh, we shouldn’t bother Jesus. He would want us to have faith. Let’s just wait here until he wakes up.” Then they would have sat cowering or fighting the wind, bailing water out of the boat. Maybe they would have felt a bit passive-agressive and would have gotten sloppy with their bailing, and allowed the water to splash Jesus, just a little. Maybe they would have talked a bit more loudly when they were near him.
They could have apologized up front for being such a bother. Jesus, we’re really really sorry, we know you’re sleeping, we know you want us to have have faith, but we’re really scared here and you’re not helping at all. Can you please pay attention to what’s going on for just a couple of minutes? We’re really sorry to bother you but it’s just too much for us.
With the first response, probably Jesus would just wake up on his own when the storm got bad enough. Then he’d take care of things, and no one would have to ask for help. So for me, when I’m in trouble, maybe instead of praying and asking Jesus for help, I should just white-knuckle my way through and assume that he’ll show up if he thinks I’m actually desperate enough.
With the second response, Jesus would certainly have to see that the disciples didn’t mean any harm, they just needed help. They’re polite people. They’d hate to ask him to go out of his way if it weren’t necessary. Surely he could understand that. Surely if I come to him with enough words to explain my situation, he’ll understand that I’m a nice, polite person who isn’t asking for much.
These lines of thought don’t really get me anywhere. I’m still stuck with this question: Jesus, WHAT did you want your disciples to do?
But as I sit with the story, something else comes forward off the page at me: the disciples response to Jesus’ miracle.
If you had just asked Jesus to save you, and he woke up and calmed the storm, wouldn’t you be delighted? Excited? Thankful? But the scripture says when Jesus calmed the storm, the disciples were terrified. They were terrified, and they realize that they may have misjudged Jesus. “Who is this man?” they ask. “Even the wind and the water do what he says!”
Why were the disciples so surprised? What were the disciples thinking he would do? Clearly they viewed him as their leader. They had to have some understanding of his power—they’d seen the miracles. But they didn’t fully get it. So what did they think he would do? Organize them? Call the strokes? Commiserate with them? Tell them who to throw overboard first?
When I call on Jesus, what am I asking? Am I asking him to calm the storm, or am I just asking him to freak out with me? If I really just want someone to be afraid with me, I can probably find a nice human to chat with and bounce fears off of. But if I have the ear of the God of the universe, who controls wind and waves and spins planets and threads together my DNA, maybe I can think of something a little bigger to ask for. And if in my smallness I can’t think of anything bigger than Jesus, help me, maybe I can trust that his answer will reflect his greatness, and not my smallness.