The Wind and Waves Obey Him

One day Jesus said to his disciples, “Let’s cross to the other side of the lake.” So they got into a boat and started out. As they sailed across, Jesus settled down for a nap. But soon a fierce storm came down on the lake. (Luke 8:22–23)

I’ve not done a great deal of sailing, but in the little sailing I’ve done, I’ve usually fallen asleep. It’s the most natural response to the rhythm of the sea as it massages the weariness of my bones. Most humans I know would agree—easy-going sailing and restful sleeping are meant for each other! But, in Scripture, it’s never said that God sleeps. In fact, it specifically said, “He who watches over Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps.” Yet man sleeps. Humanity must sleep.

Here, as a man weary from the day, according to this passage, He fell sound asleep in the boat. That’s when things started to happen.

A fierce gale of wind descended upon the lake, and they began to be swamped and to be in danger. And they came to Jesus and woke Him, saying, “Master, Master, we are perishing!” (Luke 8:23–24 NASB)

“Master, wake up, wake up! We’re gonna die!” Now isn’t that something?

They’ve already witnessed the feeding of the five thousand. And each one had a basket of food left over . . . but they hadn’t learned the lesson of His power.

They’d seen Him walk on water and cleanse a leper . . . but they hadn’t connected either with His deity.

So here they are in a boat with God in flesh, and they say, “We’re gonna sink.” You can’t sink with God on the same boat! And suddenly with a word, everything is calm. Only God could do such a thing!

And He got up and rebuked the wind and the surging waves, and they stopped, and it became calm. (Luke 8:24 NASB)

I may not have done much sailing, but I have certainly done a lot of fishing in my day, and I can tell you I have occasionally seen the sea become what we fishermen usually call “a slick.” It’s an eerie sight—especially in the ocean. The water is so smooth that if you flipped a penny into it, you could count the ripples. But never in my life have I seen a slick occur suddenly. Yet in this case a storming, raging sea—with incredible wind velocity—instantly became a slick. You could hear your own breath. Their boat may have taken a few minutes to stop rocking . . . but the sea was calm as glass.