Storms and the Sovereign Christ

Matthew 8:23-27

And when Jesus got into the boat, his disciples followed him. And behold, there arose a great storm on the sea, so that the boat was being swamped by the waves; but he was asleep. And they went and woke him, saying, “Save us, Lord; we are perishing.” And he said to them, “Why are you afraid, you little-faith lot?” Then he rose and told the winds and the sea to behave, and there was a great calm. And the men marveled, saying, “What sort of man is this, that even winds and sea obey him?”

Tom Wright, Matthew for Everyone (Vol. 1)

[T]he proper reaction to Jesus is “faith.” Again, this isn’t a general religious response to the world around; a “religious response” to a great storm at sea might be awe and terror, or frightened prayer to the sea-god. No: this “faith” is quite simply a trust that Jesus is the sovereign one who has authority over the elements (90-91).

First, how do we regard Jesus? It’s all very well to say in church, or in private devotion, that he’s the Son of God, the Lord, the Messiah, or whatever. Do we actually treat him as if he’s got authority over every aspect of our lives and our world?

A. Orendorff

I imagine that in response to Wright’s question, judging by the level of anxiety and stress that is evident in most people’s lives (including my own), we would have to say, “No.” We may confess wonderful, pious things about Jesus in our churches and in our prayers, but by default we simply do not believe that he really has “authority over every aspect of our lives and our world.” The wonderful thing about this story is that as we mediate upon it we notice at least two power lessons.

First, the storms in our lives are meant to lead us to despair of ourselves. Terror is a natural reaction to a world out of our control, as long as our eyes our fixed on us. “Save us, Lord,” the disciples cry, “we are perishing.” In other words, “We’re finished. We can’t get out of this ourselves. We can’t hack it. We can’t make it on our own.” The point of life’s overwhelming moments are just that, to overwhelm us and thereby drive us more desperately to Christ.

Second, Jesus not only tells the winds and the sea to behave, he brings with his sovereign authority a “great calm.” This gift is more than just a cessation of worry or the absence of stress, it is, as Wright might say, Jesus “putting the world to rights.” It is new creation in the here and now: real rest in anticipation of the ultimate rest when Jesus returns.

Seeing this Jesus ought not to lead us away from storms but rather to pray more earnestly within the midst of our storms for Jesus to show himself sovereign and give us this “great calm.”