There are two types of people in the world: Those who run to the basement when a storm siren goes off and those who run out on the deck to watch. I have to admit, as a native Californian living in the Midwest for the past 19 years, I am still in wonder at the power of an Iowa storm.

Last summer, after an incredible week of VBS at Hope Waukee, my family took a vacation to Clear Lake for a little rest, relaxation, and restoration. Unfortunately, on our first night there, a storm descended upon the lake. So of course, I ran out on the deck to see. At first, it was fun to watch. I could see the storm moving across the lake in a defined line, making its way toward me. The rain hit like a mighty waterfall pouring from the heavens and driving me back inside to watch through the windows with the rest of my family.

Soon, lightning and thunder were simultaneously and incessantly ripping through the skies above and surrounding us. Our wonder turned to fear as 85-plus-mile-an-hour winds began pounding on the cabin we were staying in.

The power went out as the roof was pelted with walnuts and twigs from the massive trees that attempted to shelter us with their once-mighty limbs. We became afraid that either the trees would collapse or the roof would be ripped off in the wind.

The entire cabin groaned from the force of the storm. There wasn’t anything we could do. My family and I huddled together in the dark, powerless to the mighty storm. The lake in the distance was surging with tumultuous swells. I remember thinking, “I wonder if there are any boats caught out on the lake during this?” In the second half of Mark 4, Jesus and his disciples find themselves in that exact situation.

While on a boat in the Sea of Galilee, a furious squall suddenly came upon the disciples. The storm was so powerful that the disciples, some of whom were career fishermen with a lot of experience on the water, feared for their lives. As the waves smashed against and then over the side and into the boat, the disciples turned to find Jesus. He was sound asleep in the stern of the boat. The disciples, out of fear, questioned the nature of Jesus: Jesus, we are dying out here, and you are just sleeping through it. Do you not care about us?

How many times, in the midst of our own storms, do we make similar accusations? God, can you not see what I am going through? Do you not care? I thought you were a God of love. If you love me, why would you let me go through this?

Jesus stands and says to the storm, “Siōpa pephimōso,” which literally means “be silent” or “be muzzled.” The storm immediately responds to Jesus’ rebuke, and there is great calm. What’s interesting is that the disciples don’t reply with thankfulness or shouts of celebration.

The disciples were absolutely terrified. “Who is this man?” they asked each other. “Even the wind and waves obey him!” (Mark 4:41).

What the disciples are in awe of, and even afraid of, is the absolute power and authority of Jesus. The sea was seen as an untamed evil in ancient culture. For Jesus to calm the storm and the sea with only his words was a power they weren’t yet ready for, but needed oh so much.

Jesus has the power to tame the untamable, silence the storm, and calm the sea, which means he also has the power to calm the storms for you and me.

Prayer:

Thank you, Lord, that you are God over the storms of life. Teach me to trust you even when I don’t understand what you are doing. Help me to choose faith over fear and to know your great love for me. Amen.

Reflection:

  • When you face storms in life, how do you respond—with faith, fear, or accusations?
  • Where do you need Jesus to “wake up” and calm the storms in your life?
  • What does this passage teach us about the identity of Jesus?