“Who then is this, that he commands even winds and water, and they obey him?” -Luke 8:25
Last night at bedtime, I read the story of Jesus calming the storm with my boys. The more you think about that story the more unsettling and beautiful it becomes.
Whenever I think of this scene from the gospels, I think of a scene in Yann Martel’s trippy novel, Life of Pi.
To make a bizarre story more confusing, an Indian boy named Pi finds himself stuck on a lifeboat with a massive bengal tiger named Richard Parker. Pi and Richard Parker, to this point, have kept their distance from one another, on the two opposite ends of the boat. They are mutually wary of each other.
A huge storm comes, rocking the boat, and threatening to tear it to pieces. The waves overwhelm and the boat is capsizing. Even worse, the delicate distance maintained between the tiger and the boy is compromised. Instead, they are tumultuously tumbling on top of each other in the chaos.
Pi faces a dilemma: should he be more afraid of the storm or THE MASSIVE BENGAL TIGER THAT IS IN THE BOAT WITH HIM? Would it be better to drown? Or be eaten? Either way, it seems, Pi is going down.
This is the dilemma that confronts the disciples in the boat. It also the dilemma that confronts every disciple of Jesus, in all times and in all places.
The key to understanding this story is to notice that the disciples move from fear to fear. They begin terrified of the storm (“Master, Master, we are perishing!”) and they end terrified of Jesus (“And they were afraid, and they marveled, saying to one another, “Who then is this, that he commands even winds and water, and they obey him?”).
Weren’t Jesus’ actions supposed to bring calm and comfort? Why is this the disciples’ reaction?
The disciples respond this way becasue they have a rare moment of clarity and understanding.
They know that only Yahweh, the mighty, ancient of days, covenant-keeping, spoke-the-universe-into-existence-by-the-word-of-his-mouth, living Lord of the universe can control the chaotic raging sea.
Perhaps they remembered Psalm 89: “You rule the raging of the sea; when its waves rise, you still them” (Psalm 89:9).
And the disciples are afraid, quiet simply, because it is beginning to look like that Lord is this Jesus. And even scarier, “Oh my God (literally), that Lord, who is this Jesus, is in the boat with us.”
They realize they are going down, one way or another.
There is a lesson in this story, of course, that you were taught in Sunday school. That Jesus possess the ability to calm the storms in your life. That is true, so far as it goes. But, we must not miss that in doing so, he is creating a different kind of storm in your life.
We must deal with the fact that he is in the boat with us.
You will not be able to escape him. He will eventually assert this same sea hushing authority and power over every single area of your heart and soul and body and life and hopes and dreams and ideas and money and time and goals and values and relationships.
Like most things in Christina faith this is equal parts unsettling and sweet. It challenges and makes promises simultaneously.
There comes a point when you realize that Jesus’ asserting himself over your life (in a total way), is the greatest gift he gives you, no matter how scary.
Because, among other reasons, he loves you, died to win you, and calls you friend.
You are going to need, and perhaps even want, Jesus in the boat with you. And he will be there in all his power and might and glory and love and grace and mercy.
Trust me when I tell you this will be an anchor for your soul, though it will not necessarily make things easier. It will be a kind strange kind of safety, that will not be found anywhere else.
“Joy and sorrow are this ocean
And in their every ebb and flow
Now the Lord a door has opened
That all Hell could never close
Here I’m tested and made worthy
Tossed about but lifted up
In the reckless raging fury
That they call the love of God.”Rich Mullins