Jesus Calms the Storm
LISA MCCORMICK
One day he [Jesus] and his disciples got in a boat. “Let’s cross the lake,” he said. And off they went. It was smooth sailing, and he fell asleep. A terrific storm came up suddenly on the lake. Water poured in, and they were about to capsize. They woke Jesus: “Master, Master, we’re going to drown!” Getting to his feet, he told the wind, “Silence!” and the waves, “Quiet down!” They did it. The lake became smooth as glass. Then he said to his disciples, “Why can’t you trust me?” They were in absolute awe, staggered and stammering, “Who is this, anyway? He calls out to the winds and sea, and they do what he tells them!” - Luke 8:22-25
Kids have worries. Some are things adults worry about too, but some of the things they worry about aren’t real. To a child, however, those things are very real. They think there are monsters everywhere: in the closet, in a dark room, in the toilet (and then refuse to sit on the potty). As a parent, I’ve had to deal with all kinds of worries from my kids. When I’m well rested and feeling good, I can give an A-plus response to their worries- even the ones that I know are nothing to worry about. I’m great at helping them calm down and reassuring them that everything is going to be okay. But when I’m woken up 20 minutes after I’ve gone to sleep for the night, I might have a C-minus response at best. I imagine that’s how Jesus felt in this story. He was sound asleep in a boat, and, as someone who used to fall asleep on my dad’s boat as a kid, I can tell you it’s the best kind of nap ever. It’s like being gently rocked in someone’s giant arms. I imagine the disciples coming and waking him up made him extremely annoyed. They ruined his perfect nap with a ridiculous problem.
Jesus deals with the disciples’ problem by telling the wind and the waves to calm down. Then he goes on to say, “Why can’t you trust me?” That’s like when my son was potty training, he suddenly didn’t want to sit on the potty anymore because he thought there were monsters all over the bathroom and in the toilet. I got the monster spray (aka water in a squirt bottle) and sprayed the monsters away. Then my response was, “I used the monster spray, but monsters aren’t real.” Even after Jesus’s response, the disciples focus on the amazing miracle Jesus performed rather than his words. That’s like my son taking more comfort in me spraying the monsters away than my reassuring words that monsters aren’t real.
It seems silly to make a comparison between the disciples’ fear of death and a child’s fear of imaginary monsters. I identify with the disciples’ plight, but it makes me wonder, if Jesus can react to his disciples’ fear of death in the same manner as I would react to my child being afraid of monsters, how much of a child still am I? I also think in both cases, the fearful ones miss the point. They take comfort in the temporary miracle and not in the one who will take care of them.
We are experiencing an unprecedented event in our lifetime as we try to reduce the impact of a global pandemic. We are doing our best to protect the vulnerable among us while still trying to keep some semblance of a normal life as we practice social distancing. There are many of us who are afraid. Afraid of getting infected with COVID-19, afraid of a loved one getting infected, afraid of losing our jobs, afraid of what we don’t know. These fears are real and valid, and I share them. These fears make me ponder the questions: Are we really any different than the disciples in this story? Is God any less in control of the universe than he was that day on the boat?
What I really think Jesus was asking his disciples on the boat that day is, “Why are you afraid of death, when I lead you to eternal life?” I don’t think he’s talking about just physical death, but death of our old ways of thinking, our old ways of doing, and ultimately death of our false selves. Because even after this storm passes, we’ll still have ourselves to deal with. Letting any of these old ways die can be terrifying, but my children give me hope. If my son can trust me enough to sit on the potty without spraying the monster spray, then maybe one day I can live my life as my true self, not in fear of death, but trusting in the one who will take care of me.
Lisa lives in Elmwood and is a stay at home mother of three (Lily, Jane, and Leon), wife of one (Joel). She loves conversations with adults, science, and watching Netflix at night while her kids are sleeping.