It had been a grueling day. As always, the crowds were tight, pressing in on them from every side, always trying to touch the Teacher, have their questions answered, or just be near him for a moment. The sun had been beating down right from the start, heating up oppressively muggy air. Needless to say, they were all exhausted, and when he suggested getting in the boats and sailing across the sea, there wasn’t a man opposed.
Many of them were fishermen by trade, and an afternoon sail could be very therapeutic. After all, they loved the sea: no more smelly, sweaty crowds, the freedom to cruise on the wind, to be in touch with nature, relaxing in peace and quiet. Sure there was some work involved, and one had to keep track of the weather, but the job was so contrary in nature to the constant interpersonal dealings of late – a welcome change.
So they set out. It didn’t take long for the crowds to dwindle from view. The landscape was spread out behind them, the water inviting them ahead. Noses filled with a watery breeze, and minds relaxed. Jesus soon fell asleep on a cushion in the stern. And who could blame him? There was clearly no bigger celebrity at the time, and even when he wished for a break he had to go out of his way to find a forgotten garden or the like in which to pray.
“It looks like we’re in for some rougher weather,” noted Andrew, glancing north at a quickly forming collection of dark clouds. “Might as well be prepared for the worst. You know how temperamental this lake can be.”
Sure enough, in only a manner of minutes, the sky grew dark, and rain began to fall. The fishermen set about their business, keeping their craft cruising along as if nothing was happening. The wind kicked up and the water became choppy. Waves began to grow, thrashing the boat from side to side.
“It’s getting rough!” called a fellow sailor from a nearby boat. A wave crashed over the side, soaking him through. “Hold on tight!”
They were hit by a squall. Sails were slackened, oars lengthened. Waves tossed the boats, nearly flipping them. Veteran sailors as they were, it was all they could do to keep from capsizing. Every moment the storm grew worse and worse; the boats began to fill with water. Andrew glanced back, amazed that Jesus could possibly still be sleeping.
“Help!” yelled John, a wave trying to pull him overboard. James grabbed his arm to hold him in, clinging to the bench with his legs.
“We can’t hold out much longer!”
They all knew it. Many of the best fishermen had been lost in the sea in storms calmer than this. Frantically they clung on for dear life, fighting the tossing of the boat. Miraculously, Jesus was still sleeping. There was no time for that now! They needed his help to try to keep the boat upright. Peter crawled back, clutching the sides of the boat as he went.
“Jesus! You’ve got to wake up! Teacher! Don’t you care if we drown?” he yelled into the wind.
Jesus stood up, looked around him, raised his arms, and commanded the wind and the waves in a stern voice. “Peace! Be still!”
It stopped.
The wind stopped blowing; not even a breeze remained. Andrew, who had been clinging for his life in the face of a wave about to crash over him, found the wave flattened, still – it completely ceased to exist. James, having been keeping John attached to the boat with his fist, was so astonished that he forgot what he was doing and dropped John into the suddenly glassy water, and John, too, was so surprised that when James dropped him, he forgot to grab on to the boat’s now-stationary side.
Jesus looked at them and shook his head in disappointment. “Why are you so afraid? Where is your faith?” he said, returning to his cushion in the stern.
The disciples marveled. “Who is this? He commands even the winds and the water, and they obey him!”
(This story is courtesy of Mark 4:35-41, Luke 8:22-25, and Matthew 8:23-27.)