Mark 4:35–41

When evening had come, the Lord said to His own disciples, Let us cross over to the other side of the lake. That day the Lord had said and done many mighty things in the favoured town of Capernaum. He had sown the good seed of the kingdom as it should be sown. The Sower now left that word to sprout and bear fruit... The time for speaking was over, and night was coming on. It was the time to "keep silence," the time for rest, the time "when no man can work." So He told His disciples to sail across the lake, to find quiet on its lonelier shores.

The precision which Mark furnishes, partly by his characteristic "straightway" that occurs so often, partly by a perhaps still more definite specifying of time — for example in Mark 4:35 — enables us to clear up some difficulties in the different order of the events related in the three Gospels.

The Lord had chosen the twelve so that they might be "with Him." They were His personal attendants, and He always joined them with Himself in His service... As He travelled, He graciously included them with Himself when He spoke of what He meant to do next. For example: "Let us go to Judea again" (John 11:7); "Let us go across to the other side [of the sea]" (Mark 4:35); "See, we are going up to Jerusalem" (Matt. 20:18).

Christ has a company here in connection with Himself. Those who walk in the path of God's will make up this company. To them He says, "Let us go across to the other side." Which other side? The land of glory — that is the other side. This side is the world's, man's and Satan's.

The Lord gave instructions to His disciples to take a boat over to the other side of the lake. So there was no possibility of their failing to reach the other side. Simple faith in Him would have calmed the disciples' fears when a storm arose. But we are often guilty of the same unbelief, even though we have His written Word to show that our fears and doubts are groundless.

The disciples were doing what He had told them to do. He had said, "Let us go across to the other side." Why then did the storm arise to hinder them? Satan's forces rise up against us when we are walking in the path of God's will. Satan is happy to leave us in calm waters while we go our own way. But when we are in line with God's interests, we feel the force of the enemy.

We have the seed, the word sown, and the effect of it... We have God's explanation of all that was going on: it was all known and settled in His mind. A storm may arise. Christ may appear asleep and unaware of the danger — though "He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep." Yet as disciples we are in the same boat with Him. The Lord gives us to rest on that with undivided, undistracted hearts, for Christ is in the boat, as well as the water.

The incident of the storm on the lake presents a picture that completes the teaching of the chapter... Now we learn that in such a world the Lord's true people will meet with trials. But the Lord Jesus, though unseen, is present to faith. He is supreme over all the storms His people have to meet.

The disciples had little idea what the journey would be like. They readily accepted the invitation, sent away the crowd, and took Him just as He was in the boat. This suggests two things. First, there must be separation from man if we are to follow Christ. Second, we learn something of the indescribable grace of our blessed Lord: He allowed His disciples to take Him just as He was in the boat. He — blessed be His name — is always at the service of His people. So He stoops in grace and lets them, as it were, take Him at any time and according to their need.

You have a crowd — social, business, or family. The first thing is to send it away. Whatever the hindrance — and there is no one in this room who does not have some kind of block under the wheel — send it away.

The storm on the lake gives a picture of the trials and dangers of His own during this age; but He is in the boat. Note a statement found only in Mark: "They took Him with them in the boat, just as He was." The Servant, though Lord of all, had a real human body. Here we have a small picture of His weariness as Servant.

What a day it had been of tireless devotion to His Father's will and of love to man! ... Do we wonder, then, that He should be asleep on a pillow in the little boat where His disciples were with Him? It was a hard lump of wood, so unlike a soft cushion! Truly He was the Jehovah of Psalm 121:4, of whom it is written, "He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep." But He had stooped to become man, to be the perfectly dependent and obedient One. As such He could grow weary, as at the well in Sychar. He was holy, harmless, separate from sinners, for bodily weariness does not come from sin.

How was He in this world? Born in Bethlehem's manger, a homeless wanderer, rejected from the very start. They identify themselves with Christ: "they took Him just as He was."

Then it says they took Jesus with them just as He was. We must have Him just as He is. I was talking the other day to a man of some standing in the socialist movement. He said, "I believe in Jesus and the Sermon on the Mount. I believe in the Carpenter of Nazareth. I believe in the Man who went about doing good." But he would not have Christ on the cross... if we receive the Lord Jesus Christ, if we take Him at all, we must take Him as He is, Christ crucified, the power and the wisdom of God.

There were other little boats. You can go in them if you like, but we never hear of them again. The storm comes and they are gone. Very likely they made for the shore. You may be in one of them if you please. If you travel with Christ you must expect opposition.

There were also other little boats with Him, but, sadly, not one of them had Him with them. So today many claim to be crossing to the other side in Christ's company, but He is not with them — they profess, and nothing more.

The distance to the other side, as the crow flies, was only a few miles. In ordinary circumstances the journey might have been finished quickly. But a great hurricane suddenly arose. It whipped the water of the lake into furious and mighty waves. They dashed over and beat into the little boat, so that it was filling fast. Some of the disciples, such as Simon and Andrew and James and John, were local fishermen used to sailing the lake. They had no doubt met many a stormy night in their trade. But this storm was so severe that their strength and skill were both defeated.

The disciples were doing what He had told them to do. He had said, "Let us go over to the other side." Why then did the storm arise to block them? It is when we are in the pathway of God's will that Satan's forces are stirred up against us. Satan is happy to leave us in calm waters when we are going our own way. But when we are in the line of God's interests, we feel the force of the adversary.

More than the disciples were involved in that storm. Satan was permitted to raise it against the precious Burden of that little ship. All the enmity of Satan against the Church is against Christ and His glory. That is our comfort; for if he could destroy that, then we might sink, but not otherwise.

Though it is not stated, Satan may have brought about the storm on the lake. He was the one who would bruise the heel of the woman's Seed, and this may have been one of his futile attempts to destroy the Son of man.

Profound mystery! The One who made the sea, and could hold the winds in His almighty grasp, lay sleeping in the back of the ship. He let the sea and the wind treat Him with as little respect as if He were an ordinary man. Such was the reality of the human nature of our blessed Lord. He was weary — He slept, tossed on the surface of that sea which His hands had made.

The Lord slept in the storm. That sleep was the evidence that He was truly a man, who knew weariness through work and the rest that sleep gives. It is remarkable that the only time we read of Him sleeping was in the storm. What was the secret of that wonderful rest? On what pillow did He lay His head? The secret was His perfect confidence in God, and His pillow was His Father's unchanging love. We know that He was more than man; He guided and controlled the boat even while He slept. But He was man, and never used His divine power for His own advantage or comfort.

The storm on the lake gives a picture that completes the teaching of the chapter. Now we learn that, in such a world, the Lord's true people will meet with trials. But the Lord Jesus, though absent to sight, is present to faith. He is supreme over all the storms His people have to meet.

Many a wind has blown over the same water since the day of Mark 4. The heart of many an alarmed disciple has cried out again, but there has been no answer. Many a trying and terrible storm of affliction still sweeps across the path of the people of God. He who still has the right and the power gives it no command. But this we may learn: though there is "need of patience," and Jesus seems still to sleep, He is as truly with us now as He was for the disciples facing the danger then.

What a day it had been of untiring devotion to His Father's will and of love to man! Do we wonder, then, that in the little boat, where His disciples were with Him, He should be asleep on a pillow? It was a hard lump of wood — such a contrast to a cushion on a sofa! Truly He was the LORD of Psalm 121:4, and Scripture says of Him, "He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep." But He had chosen to become man, and to be the perfectly dependent and obedient One. As such He could grow tired, as He did at the well in Sychar.

Profound mystery! The One who made the sea, and could hold the winds in His almighty grasp, lay sleeping in the back of the boat. He allowed the sea and the wind to treat Him as roughly as though He were an ordinary man. Such was the reality of the human nature of our blessed Lord.

The Lord slept in the storm. That sleep was the evidence that He was indeed a man, who knew weariness through work and the rest that sleep gives. It is remarkable that the only time we read of Him sleeping was in the storm. What was the secret of that wonderful repose? On what pillow did He lay His head? The secret was His perfect confidence in God, and His pillow was His Father's changeless love. We know that He was more than man — His command of the elements proved that, and He guided and controlled the boat even while He slept. But He was man, and He never used His divine power for His own advantage or comfort.

This is the only Gospel that mentions the pillow. Mark is the Gospel of the Servant. Did He push that pillow away? No. He was no man of harsh self-denial. He accepts the Father's provision, and goes to sleep in the storm. "Do you not care that we are perishing?" they say. Oh, that miserable "we." His "us" took them in; their "we" left Him out. Perish with Christ on board! It only needs to be thought about for a minute.

But Jesus was at perfect peace. He was asleep. His power was hidden: He seemed cut off from all that was going on, and unaware of it. He seemed weak. His power and glory could be seen only by faith. Their word is: "Do you not care that we are perishing?" For unbelief is always selfish, and so it will be found.

They might have stretched themselves out beside Him and known the wonder of unbroken peace in the storm. They might have made that night memorable by their confidence in Him. They might have shared His peace with Him… And when that great calm spread over the waters, they were not one bit safer than they had been while the great waves thundered against them.

Many a wind has blown over the same water since the day of Mark 4. The heart of many an alarmed disciple has cried out again — but there has been no answer… Yet this we may learn. Though there is "need of patience," and Jesus appears still to sleep, He is as truly with us now as He was for the disciples facing the danger then.

When Peter wrote, "Casting all your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you," did he remember the storm on the sea? Did he remember how he and his brothers, in a panic of fear, woke their sleeping Lord with the faithless cry, "Do you not care that we are perishing?" Surely never again after that experience would he doubt the care of his Lord.

He spoke in His own right, as Lord of the sea and the land. He addressed both the winds and the waves, for "the sea is His, for He made it," and He "rides on the wings of the wind." He stretched out no rod of delegated authority towards the troubled elements, as Moses did at the Red Sea. There was no striking of the waters with the prophet's mantle, as with Elijah at the Jordan. In the majesty of almighty power He gave His short, firm order — to the roaring hurricane, "Silence!" and to the surging waves, "Cease, be at rest!"

Both Matthew and Luke record what the Lord did in the storm, but Mark tells us what He said. He awoke, rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Silence, be quiet." The word means to muzzle. And blessed be His name — He has not only silenced the storm on the sea, He has muzzled all the forces of evil. The world is judged, the devil defeated, death undone, and all the forces of hell laid low.

Look at Him again in the boat on the lake during the storm. He was there as a tired working man whose sleep was sweet. That was the form in which He appeared. But underneath lay "the form of God." He rose as the Lord who gathers the wind in His fists and binds the waters in a garment, and He rebuked the sea into a calm.

The gracious Master does not begin by rebuking His disciples, as we most likely would have done in a similar case. He first rebukes the winds, then His disciples. First He removes the cause of their unbelief, then He reproves their unbelief: first grace, then truth. He lived among them full of grace and truth. So it ought to be with us.

The question is not "Which is correct?" but "What is the special significance intended by the change?" In Matthew's gospel, faith — or the lack of it — is more prominent than in the other gospels. The reason is that Matthew presents Christ as the Messiah, offered to the Jews for acceptance. So it suits that gospel to bring the disciples' unbelief into prominence. Mark, on the other hand, presents our blessed Lord as the servant prophet. There His tenderness in calming the fears of His terrified disciples comes before He stills the raging storm and the sea.

Many a wind has blown over the same water since the day of Mark 4. The heart of many an alarmed disciple has cried out again, but there has been no answer. Many a hard and terrible storm of affliction still sweeps across the path of God's people. He who still has the right and the power gives it no command. But we may learn this. Though there is "need of patience," and Jesus seems still to sleep, He is with us now as truly as He was with the disciples in the face of danger then.

We may not find our outward circumstances much altered. For instance, no one can avoid old age. But God can and will make a way of escape, so that we are able to bear the trial. A way of escape — not out of the trial, but in the trial — so that in our spirits we may rise above it and glorify God in it.

While on earth, He did not need to speak like thunder to subdue the raging sea. He said with calm simplicity, "Peace! Be still!" and there was a great calm. But the nations of earth will need a voice of thunder before they are ready to listen to the Lord Jesus.

The gracious Master does not start by rebuking His disciples, as most of us would have done in the same situation. He first rebukes the winds, then His disciples. First He removes the cause of their unbelief, then He reproves their unbelief: first grace, then truth. He lived among them full of grace and truth. So it ought to be with us.

Matthew puts the chiding of the disciples for their unbelief before the rebuking of the winds and the sea. Mark gives the opposite order. The question is not "Which is correct?" but "What is the special significance intended by the change?" In Matthew's gospel, faith — or the lack of it, unbelief — stands out more than in the other gospels... In Mark, our blessed Lord appears more as the servant prophet. So He first shows His tenderness in calming the fears of His terrified disciples, and then He stills the raging storm and the sea.

They forgot His glory in their own anxiety and selfishness. They measured Jesus by their own weakness. A great storm and a sinking ship are serious troubles for a man... Little faith leaves us afraid for ourselves, and poor witnesses of the glory of the One whom even the wildest elements obey.

He did not blame them for appealing to Him for help. But He wanted them to know that they were wrong in two ways: they were full of fear, and they had little faith.

By all appearances, the Lord seems detached from the danger His own people are in. He sleeps, and the disciples think the water will swallow them up. They had a certain faith in Him if He were awake: at least then He could deal with the danger. But even so, what a lack of faith it was to think that God's purposes and the Lord Himself would be swallowed up together by a storm — or, as the world would say, by an accident! They were in the same ship with the Lord, the object of all God's purposes. No accident can happen there, or anywhere else... He puts faith to the test and seems indifferent to the difficulties. He is not worried, and His grace and power wake at just the right moment.

He recognised that they were not completely without faith, since they appealed to the Master for help. But it was only a very little faith. They thought they were perishing, even though Jesus was with them. Faith must be weak if it cannot trust until the cause of the worry and alarm is gone.

This was a wise fear. They now saw what unworthy thoughts had taken hold of them, right in the presence of Infinite Power and Goodness. This was the fear of reverence, and it had driven the cowardice of unbelief out of the disciples' hearts.

How often since then have disciples found that following Christ does not shield them from storms and troubles!... He rebuked the sea, but He also rebuked the disciples, saying, "Where is your faith?" And He has surely not had to ask that question of them alone.

On one hand we see the weariness of the Servant of Jehovah after the work of the day. On the other we see His instant readiness to serve yet more as soon as help was called for. And there is a further wonder: not only was the Servant of Jehovah in the boat, but Jehovah Himself was there. For He who spoke with such authority to the winds and the waves was certainly God. And the One who spoke this way was the same One who slept and woke at the cry of distress. It was a great revelation.

His words spoken to the raging elements, "Peace! Be still!" — words we know only because Mark records them — show the perfect command He had over the elements. He spoke and it was done. It was the voice of the Creator, and there was instant obedience. The wind ceased, and there was a great calm. It was not a gradual dying down, but clearly an immediate calm.

More than a man! What man could command the wind and the sea? How powerless man is when the elements are let loose in all their fury. The tornado moves on with unstoppable force. Nothing can withstand it. The sea rages. No human power can curb its terrifying strength. How small man is made to feel before these forces! No — the disciples found themselves in the presence of the eternal Son of God, "God manifested in the flesh."

To fear God is good, and Scripture commands it throughout. Afterwards we read that the disciples "were filled with great fear" when they saw what the word of Christ did to the stormy sea. This was a wise fear. They were now aware of the unworthy thoughts that had filled them in the immediate presence of Infinite Power and Goodness. It was the fear of reverence, not the cowardice of unbelief, which it had replaced in their hearts.

They do not show the calm worship of people whose faith has its answer. They show the amazement of people whose fears He has just rebuked. Surely they should have known Him better. Yes — and so should we.

Faith is spiritual sight, and as yet their eyes were hardly opened to see who He was. Had they grasped a little of His true glory they would not have been so afraid. And having watched this display of His power they were still afraid, and still asking what kind of man He was. A Man who can command wind and sea, and they do His will, is obviously no ordinary Man. But who is He? — that is the question.

Had they known who that divine Person was with them in the boat, they might have slept as peacefully as He did. How could they perish when they had the Son of God with them in the boat? If He could perish, they might too, but not otherwise; for as He taught them later, "Because I live, you also will live." He also showed them that fear and unbelief were the cause of all their panic and terror. And even the weakest soul will see this: as soon as we have learned that Christ has won power over death and Satan through His work on the cross, our fears will cease.