Mark 4:35-41 > Two Questions for Jesus

Having spent the last week in San Antonio, I am more intrigued than ever by the story of the battle of the Alamo. It is a tragic chapter in American history, played out on the silver screen many times, though certainly no film can do it justice. Inside the fortress were fewer than 200 men, determined to fight the vast army of Santa Anna for the independence of Texas. Knowing that they could not withstand the thousands of Mexican soldiers which were surrounding them, William Travis sent out dispatches to Sam Houston and James Fannin asking for reinforcements. Due to numerous circumstances, neither were able to respond to Travis’s request. Knowing that the odds were not in their favor, the Alamo fighters stood their ground and died heroic deaths defending the Alamo, allowing time for Houston to marshal the forces which would defeat Santa Anna at San Jacinto.

I tell you this story today because it is fresh in my mind, and because it provides a suitable introduction to the passage before us today. Like Travis and his men, the disciples are faced with a sudden storm – not one of cannon balls and rifle fire, but a literal storm of wind and waves. Like those Alamo soldiers, the disciples knew that they didn’t stand a chance in their present situation unless help arose from some other quarter. For Travis, that help was sought in Houston and Fannin, who were unable to respond. For the disciples, help was sought in the person of Jesus Christ, who was asleep in the boat. I would imagine that in their most honest moments of reflection on their circumstances, William Travis, David Crockett, and Jim Bowie all wanted to ask of Houston and Fannin the same question the disciples asked of Jesus – “Do you not care that we are perishing?” In a letter to Jesse Grimes on March 3, 1836, Travis said, “I am determined to perish in the defense of this place, and my bones shall reproach my country for her neglect.”

Do you not care that we are perishing? That was the question of Travis to all America from the Alamo in 1836, and it was the question of the disciples to their Lord in the midst of a stormy sea 1800 years earlier. The story of Jesus stilling the stormy sea is a familiar one. It occurs in three of the four Gospels and is the first of four successive miracle stories in Mark’s Gospel. This scene has often been depicted in Christian art through the centuries.

Here in this passage, we find much action and little dialogue. The details given bear the distinct flavor of an eyewitness account, which is to be expected since the early church recognized Mark’s gospel as coming from information provided by Peter. So vivid was this event and the lessons learned from it in the memory of Peter that he was able to recount the story with near cinematic detail. Among those details are two questions that Peter recalls asking. One in verse 38: Teacher, Do you not care that we are perishing? Another in verse 41: Who then is this that even the wind and the sea obey Him? I believe these questions serve as two great focal points for us in the study of the text today as we seek to understand and apply God’s word to our lives and to the church today. Like the disciples of old, we are faced with many storms in life, both literal and figurative, and if we are to survive them, we must learn the lessons they learned from the Lord in the midst of their great storm.

I. Teacher, Do You Not Care? (v38)

After a long day of preaching and teaching, Jesus calls the disciples to withdraw to the other side of the Sea of Galilee. Verse 36 says that He was already in the boat – in newer translations, you will see the phrase “just as He was.” That phrase points us back to 4:1 where Jesus got into the boat and used it as a floating pulpit. Now, without going ashore to prepare for the journey or gather supplies, He says that they should head across the lake. We aren’t told why, unless, the phrase “leaving the crowd” gives us a clue. Perhaps it was to escape the crowds, or perhaps to expand His ministry to those on the other side. The detail that there were other boats with Him serves no purpose in the story other than to indicate that He could not escape the crowds. Although He may have tried to withdraw from them, many followed Him in other boats.

During the journey, this question is asked: “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” What precipitates this question? Several factors:

A. A Sudden Storm (v37a)

The Sea of Galilee sits in a depression, 700 feet below sea level, surrounded by hills and mountains. Mount Hermon is just 30 miles to the Northeast, rising to 9200 feet above sea level. Violent warm winds from the southwest enter the basin from the southern cleft and mix with the cold air from the Northern mountain region producing tempestuous storms that arise and subside suddenly and in quick succession. This still occurs commonly today, as resident fishermen readily testify. It is especially dangerous when those storms arise at night. Today, fishermen on the Sea of Galilee refer to these evening easterlies as “Sharkia."[1]

This storm is a severe one – the Greek word used to describe it is the same word used in ancient times for hurricanes, squalls, and other furious storms. The NASB calls it a fierce gale of wind. The NIV calls it a furious squall. No seasoned sailor would take his boat out in those waters knowing that such a storm was brewing. This storm arose suddenly, a factor leading to their questioning of Jesus.

Did He not know that He was leading them into a storm? If He knew, then did He not care that He was leading them out into deadly conditions? Just as frequently as storms are likely to arise on the Sea of Galilee, so too storms arise frequently in the lives of Christians. Jesus does not promise “smooth sailing or cloudless skies. Even when we are very near Him … the tempests burst; circumstances seem against us,” the waves threaten to engulf us and the skies grow dark.[2] When Jesus told the parable of the house built upon a rock in Matthew 7:24, His point was not that those who hear His words and act on them would be exempted from storms. The same storm strikes the house build on a rock that strikes the one built on sand. The difference is that the house built on a rock withstands the storm. So the life built on Christ will experience sudden storms in life, but God has promised that the storm will not overtake us if we cling to Christ in the midst of it. The sudden onset of storms in your life is no cause to question whether or not the Master cares! Rather it is cause for us to cling to Him and to His word in faith that He will see us through.

But the sudden storm was not the only factor that led to the questioning of Jesus. Notice another factor:

B. A Sinking Ship (v37b)

Mark tells us that the waves were breaking over the boat so much that it was filling up with water. The wording here implies that the waves were beating upon the boat, and throwing water over the boat. This word used for filling up is the same word Mark uses in 15:36 to describe the filling up of a sponge. It is the word John uses to describe the filling of water pots in Jn 2:7. You want to fill up sponges and water pots, that’s fine. You go filling up boats, and that’s a problem. The boat is going to sink.

The shape of the typical Galilean fishing boat was especially vulnerable to high waves. In 1986, a boat of this kind was unearthed at Ginosaur. These boats had low sides to enable the fishermen to drag their full nets over the sides into the boat. The one found in 1986 was about 26 ½ feet long, 7 ½ feet wide, and less than 5 feet deep. The boat would have had two rowers on each side, and would hold about 15 people. We know it is typical of fishing boats of that era, because it corresponds to a well-preserved first century mosaic. Carbon dating places the boat between 120 BC and 40 AD. With such a shallow hull, it would be easy to take on water, especially in the tumultuous conditions described here.[3]

With their boat on the verge of sinking, the disciples cry out, “Teacher, do You not care?” There are times in our lives when the wind whirls around us and the waves wash over us, and we wonder if we will stay afloat. The poet e. e. cummings said, “King Christ, this world is all aleak, and life preservers there are none.” It seems in those moments that we will drown in despair as we question the Lord of His concern, or seeming lack thereof, for us. This is true, not only in our lives individually, but for the church of Jesus Christ as well. Those boats, used for so many centuries for successful fishing in the Sea of Galilee, sure don’t seem like they were crafted for such conditions. And when one considers Christ’s church and the storms it has endured for two millennia, we often think the same. With all of the forces of academia, politics, science crashing over us, we wonder if the boat will sink. After all, the church, Paul says in 1 Corinthians, consists of not many wise, not many mighty, and not many noble. But the ship stays afloat. We have taken on water, at times of our doing, and other times from without. It was Voltaire who said that he would rid the world of Christianity and the Bible, and yet after he died, his very house became home to a Bible publishing house. In our day, it seems that every time we turn around, there is some new conspiracy theory about the real Jesus that the Bible has hidden from us, or some new book or documentary that threatens to shipwreck the Christian faith. But we do not despair, though others claim that the boat will sink – Christ is in the boat with us, and He will not let it go down. He has said that He will build His church and the gates of hell will not prevail against it.

There is yet another factor, the most obvious one in the text, which gives rise to the question of Christ’s care. Not only is there a sudden storm, and a sinking ship, but we read on and find …

C. A Sleeping Savior (v38)

On those ancient fishing boats like the one discovered in 1986, the bow and stern both appear to have been covered with a deck where someone could sit or lie down. On the boat, there would be either a sandbag used for ballast, or a seat cushion for the rower, or in some cases a pillow kept for the comfort of those not involved in rowing or fishing. Whichever was the case on this particular boat, the Lord Jesus lay down His sweet head for some shut-eye on one or the other of these “cushions.” It is interesting that this account (and its parallels in Matthew and Luke) is the only time we read of Jesus sleeping in the Gospels. That does not mean it is the only time He ever slept, but it is the only time His sleeping is recorded.

Why would Jesus sleep? Firstly, because He was fully human. He was more than fully human, as we will see momentarily, but being fully human, He needed to rest His body as much as you and I do. God did not give the command of a Sabbath arbitrarily. Our bodies need rest. We need to work, and work hard, but we need to rest also. Without that needed rest, we are limited in the work we can do. Secondly, He slept because He was tired. Now I know you may think, “Why was He so tired? All He’d been doing was preaching.” Let me tell you from my experience, preaching is exhausting. I am never more fatigued than at about 12:15 on Sunday afternoon. It takes deliberate resting through the afternoon to build up strength to do it again on Sunday nights. And Jesus probably wasn’t preaching half-hour sermons. Add to this the constant demand of the people upon Him, which we saw in Chapter 3 was hindering Him from eating, so it is no stretch to imagine that it hindered Him from regular sleep as well. But thirdly, I think we can say with confidence that Jesus slept because of His abiding assurance that His Father was in control of everything that was going to take place. One writer speaks of the “untroubled serenity of divine omnipotence.”[4] He needed not fear what might happen if He closed His eyes. God’s sovereign and providential control of the affairs of this world is just as constant whether Jesus is asleep or awake. When you are confident of that, you can sleep sound.

Jesus must have been sleeping soundly. Have you ever slept on a boat? We took the San Antonio River Cruise two times last week, and Salem slept through them both, and she was none-too-happy about missing it. But the gentle rocking of the boat, and the tranquil lapping of the water lulled her into slumber within a few minutes. But Jesus was not on a river cruise. This boat was getting hammered by wind and waves, pitching back and forth in the storm, but Jesus kept on sleeping. Water was spraying across the boat, perhaps even pooling around Him, yet He slept on. None of this woke Him – the disciples woke Him with their question: “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”

Their assumption is apparent – surely He knew there was a storm, surely He felt the rocking of the boat and the splashing of the water. But the fact that He did nothing to help, not even man a bucket to dip the water out must mean that He could care less if they all drown there. They presume that He was neglecting His duty to protect them and come to their aid. Their word perish means destruction or ruin, indicating the vividness of their turmoil. These were experienced fishermen who had weathered many storms, but never anything quite like this. How can He be silently sleeping when all this is going on around us? Surely He does not care!

In the midst of overwhelming storms, are we not often quick to join them with this question? When God doesn’t arise immediately to alleviate our distress, we are quick to assume that He is indifferent to our need. And in our cry to Him, there is that subtle tone of rebuke – “Jesus, how dare you slumber when I need you now!” And there is that demand of entitlement that says, “You owe me deliverance,” wherein we mistake the benefits of His grace as a debt that we deserve to collect.

He may be silent. You may deem His response to be slow in coming. You may feel slighted by His seeming indifference to your travail. But this does not mean that He does not care for you. Even in that state of soul despair, we ought to do exactly as these disciples did, and cry out to Him, but we must not seek to rebuke or reprove Him as these did. We must do so with humble faith, and a recognition of our own state – we do not deserve His aid. If He gives it, and He often does, it is of grace and not merit. We do not deserve His providential intervention in our circumstances. Thank God, He does not always let us suffer what we deserve. In His grace He will arise, in His own way and in His own time, and come to our aid just as He does here.

There is this question: “Do you not care?” Oh, yes, He cares. And we must not let sudden storms, sinking ships, or the silence of a seemingly sleeping Savior cause us to think He doesn’t. But there is another question asked in verse 41.

II. Who Then Is This? (v41)

Verses 39 and 40 contain statements of Jesus. In verse 39, He speaks to the wind and sea. In verse 40, He speaks to the disciples. Both statements are rebukes. And both give rise to this additional question of the true identity of Jesus.

A. He Speaks to the Wind and Sea (v39)

He speaks with rebuke, demanding silence and stillness. There is here a repetition of two words used in 1:25 in Jesus’ dealing with an unclean spirit. He speaks to this storm in the natural realm the same way He speaks authoritatively over the demons of the spiritual realm. R. T. France says, “He rebukes the wind as if it were an animate being, and addresses the lake as if it were an unruly heckler.”[5] “Be still” here is our translation of a Greek word meaning “to silence or muzzle.” It is a passive perfect command, and might be rendered, “Put a muzzle on and keep it on!” John Calvin points out that the lake did not have any perception, but rather Jesus speaks in this way to demonstrate the power of His voice reaching even the elements.[6] Just as God took what was formless and void in Genesis 1:2, and formed it and filled it by the power of His Word, so here, Christ speaks stillness and silence, and “the wind died down and it became perfectly calm.”

Now there are those who do not accept the miracles found in the Bible as authentic, historical events. For example, 19^th Century German theologian Heinrich Paulus said Jesus did not speak to the sea and order it to be calm, but rather cried out, “What a dreadful storm! It must be over soon!” And then the disciples misunderstood His words to be the effective cause of the sudden calm.[7] However, I would rather take the word of those who were there, and those who were experienced fishermen on the Sea of Galilee. Some of these men had spent years fishing every day on this lake, and had seen storms come and go, but what they saw happen when Jesus spoke was no natural occurrence. What they just saw and heard gave rise to the question of verse 41: “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey Him?”

Who is He? Well, we saw in His sleeping that He was fully human, but we said that He was much more than that – and here we see how much more. Turn in your Bibles to Psalm 107 as we read verses 23-30:

Those who go down to the sea in ships, Who do business on great waters; They have seen the works of the Lord, And His wonders in the deep. For He spoke and raised up a stormy wind, Which lifted up the waves of the sea. They rose up to the heavens, they went down to the depths; Their soul melted away in their misery. They reeled and staggered like a drunken man, And were at their wits’ end. Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, And He brought them out of their distresses. He caused the storm to be still, So that the waves of the sea were hushed. Then they were glad because they were quiet, So He guided them to their desired haven.

So who is this? Is He just a man? No He is so much more than that – He is fully human, therefore He sleeps in the stern. But He is fully GOD, therefore He silences the storm and stills the sea with the power of His word. Yet His rebuke of the sea is perhaps not so intense as His rebuke of His disciples which we see in verse 40 as …

B. He Speaks to His Disciples (v40)

When Jesus says, “Why are you afraid,” the word He uses for afraid is a totally different Greek word than the one found in verse 41. This one has to do with the fear of a coward. When the Bible was translated into the Uduk language of Ethiopia and Sudan, they used the idiom “shiver in your liver” here. Why do you shiver in your liver? Why are you cowards? Do you still have no faith? He doesn’t rebuke them for their lack of knowledge – of that they should have plenty. They have been with Him day by day for some time now. Yet, after all they have seen Him do and heard Him say, they still don’t realize who He is. Though they may be insiders, they follow Him with an imperfect understanding. They still lack that practical faith in the power of God which enables them to respond to a crisis with confidence.

But in the face of this divine revelation, Mark tells us that they became very much afraid. You don’t have to be a Greek scholar to pick up on this: he uses the words phobon megan. Literally, they feared a great fear. That is a common construction in Hebrew used to intensify something, and here Mark just brings it into the Greek language. It is ironic that their fear in verse 41 is more intense than the fear of verse 40. And so we will see this kind of fear in response to Jesus four more times in Mark’s Gospel. Indeed, the presence of the supernatural is more frightening to humanity than the most destructive natural disasters we may face. These disciples are better able to handle the possibility of their own death at sea than the possibility that God Himself is standing in their midst.[8]

“Who then is this?” they ask. It is the one question that makes faith possible. In Exodus 14:31, after coming through the Red Sea and seeing the Egyptians perish there, the Bible says that Israel saw the great power which the Lord had used against the Egyptians, and the people feared the Lord, and they believed in the Lord. When God reveals Himself to humanity, the only appropriate response is one of awe, reverence, and fear. Rightly directed, that fear produces faith. It did for Israel. But the question here becomes, “Will that fear produce faith for these disciples?” and “Will that fear produce faith for you and I?”

Mark’s original readers were the Christians in Rome who were suffering intense persecution under the pagan dominion of Nero. Seeing their brothers and sisters in the faith crucified, beheaded, and tortured in countless other ways on a regular basis, they too may have been tempted to believe that God was indifferent to their suffering. But this story gave them assurance that though the storms were brutal and the sea was turbulent, Christ was in the boat with them, and they were safe in His care. Just as the battle cry, “Remember the Alamo” spurred the patriots in Texas on to victory over Santa Anna, so the ancient church employed the symbol of a boat on a perilous sea to remind themselves Jesus was in the boat with them, and there was no need to fear.

Perhaps today, you find yourself in the midst of a sudden and severe storm on the sea of your life. I have but one question for you – Is Jesus in the boat with you? Mark has told us that there were other boats out on the sea that dark and stormy night. But he does not tell us what became of them. He does tell us that those on board with Jesus were saved. The storm never has the last word. Christ always does. So why take your chances on a ship where there is no Savior? Much better off will you be to have Christ on board with you, even though it may seem He is sleeping at the moment, He will arise and save His own. He will not always calm the storm, but His presence is enough to calm our souls so we can know that He will bring us through. So, is He in the boat with you? If not, then I would urge you with all that is in me to jump ship and swim for your life to climb aboard with Him by calling out to Him as Lord and Savior of your life. And if He is, then fear not. The storms will come, and at times He may be silent, but He cares, and He is able to speak to the storm, to the sea, or to your soul words of peace and calm if you trust in Him in the midst of the storm.

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[1] See William L. Lane, The New International Commentary on the New Testament: The Gospel of Mark (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974), 175; James R. Edwards, The Pillar New Testament Commentary: The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 149.

[2] Charles R. Erdman, The Gospel of Mark: An Exposition (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1945), 77.

[3] Edwards, 148.

[4] R. T. France, The New International Greek Testament Commentary: The Gospel of Mark (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 223.

[5] France, 224.

[6] Calvin, quoted in C. E. B. Cranfield, The Cambridge Greek Testament Commentary: The Gospel According to St. Mark (Cambridge: Cambridge, 1966), 174.

[7] Quoted in David Garland, The NIV Application Commentary: Mark (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1996), 194.

[8] Edwards, 152.