A 40-DAY JOURNEY WITH THE KING: Lenten reflections from Mark’s Gospel (12)

 

“A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. But [Jesus] was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. He said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” (Mk. 4.37-41)

     Jesus now prepares to enter the first of two chaotic situations.  The world itself was in a state of watery chaos before God “spoke” and established an ordered cosmos where there had previously only been “a formless void” (cf. Gn. 1.1-3).  Once God began to speak, the chaos and disorder obeyed his commands to “fall into place”, to harmonize and take shape.

     After another presumably peaceful day of teaching by the shores of the Sea of Galilee (cf. 2.13; 3.7ff; 4.1), and as the evening shadows are gathering (cf. 1.32), Jesus invites the disciples to join him in the boat and announces that they are going to cross the lake (cf. 6.45; 8.13).  “The twelve” begin to strain against the oars while Jesus, exhausted from the day’s preaching, collapses onto the ship’s cushion and falls into a deep sleep.  Meanwhile, a storm breaks and the sea begins to heave and toss the boat about like a plaything.  In the eye of the storm, Jesus is at rest, seemingly oblivious to the peril that he and his disciples find themselves in.  The exasperated twelve rouse the slumbering teacher and put a question to him: “…do you not care that we are perishing?” (4.38).  Jesus, he who speaks “the word” to the crowds (cf. 4.33), now addresses himself to the wind and the sea: “Peace! Be still!” (4.39).  Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm.  Jesus has brought peace to this chaotic situation of fear and deadly danger.  As water gently sloshes in the bottom of the boat, Jesus turns on the twelve.  Not for the last time, the disciples are about to get a tongue-lashing.  It’s Jesus’ turn to ask a question: “Why are you afraid?  Have you still no faith?” (4.40).  The disciples, understandably enough, had been full of fear as they faced the storm; they did in fact demonstrate faith in Jesus’ ability to save them from death – that’s why they woke him up, after all.  But Jesus seems to be calling them to an even deeper dimension of faith – perhaps they could have ordered the wind and the sea to be still?  They had been endowed, we will remember, with authority to “proclaim the message, and to cast out demons” (3.14-15).  Later in the narrative, Jesus will explain to them just how powerful the potential of faith is (cf. 11.20-24).  Let’s not forget that the paralytic was healed because of the faith of his four friends (cf. 2.3-5).  In any case, Jesus seems disappointed at how slow his apprentices are to “test their strength” and to avail themselves of the authority that he has delegated to them.

     There is an important principle being highlighted here, as Mark contrasts the reactions to the storm of the disciples, on the one hand, and of Jesus, on the other.  The disciples are motivated by a desire for self-preservation, while Jesus is motivated by a desire to make a gift of himself.  While the twelve seek to be saved, Jesus seeks to save.  Perhaps it is only when one moves away from seeking to save oneself, one’s reputation, honour, wealth, etc. towards seeking how to give oneself away for the salvation of others that faith’s power can be unleashed (cf. 8.35).  As we read the Gospels, we notice that Jesus never used his power for his own benefit, or to avoid suffering/death.  Jesus is powerful precisely because he does not pursue his own interests, but is rather interested in bringing God’s shalom to those around him.

     Too amazed to pay much attention to the Master’s question concerning their lack of faith, the disciples excitedly ask each other: “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” (4.41).  Who indeed.  So far, Mark has been unveiling Jesus’ ultimate identity via just such rhetorical questions (cf. 1.27; 2.7).  At a word, demons are exorcised, sins are forgiven (and people are healed) and the wind/the sea become silent.  Who then is this, but the very One who spoke light into the primal darkness, who tamed the waves of the primeval abyss and made the world emerge from chaos into the beauty of ordered fruitfulness (cf. Gn. 1.1—2.3)?