Christ Stills the Tempest
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Presently a flash of lightning reveals him fast asleep, undisturbed amid
the noise and confusion.
They rush to him, and bending over his prostrate form, cry out
reproachfully, “Master, Master, carest thou not that we perish?” Their
hearts are grieved that he should rest so peacefully, while danger and
death threaten them, and they have been laboring so hard against the
fury of the storm. This despairing cry arouses Jesus from his refreshing
sleep. As the disciples rush back to their oars, to make a last effort,
Jesus rises to his feet. In his divine majesty he stands in the humble
vessel of the fishermen, amid the raging of the tempest, the waves
breaking over the bows, and the vivid lightning playing about his calm
and fearless countenance. He lifts his hand, so often employed in
deeds of mercy, and says to the angry sea, “Peace, be still.” The storm
ceases, the heaving billows sink to rest. The clouds roll away, and
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the stars shine forth; the boat sits motionless upon a quiet sea. Then,
turning to his disciples, Jesus rebukes them, saying, “Why are ye so
fearful? how is it that ye have no faith?”
A sudden hush crept over the disciples. Not a word was spoken;
even impulsive Peter did not attempt to express the reverential awe
that filled his heart. The boats that had set out to accompany Jesus
had been in the same peril with that of the disciples. Fear and finally
despair had seized their occupants; but the command of Jesus brought
quiet where but a moment before all was tumult. All fear was allayed,
for the danger was over. The fury of the storm had driven the boats into
close proximity, and all on board beheld the miracle of Jesus. In the
hush that followed the stilling of the tempest, they whispered among
themselves, “What manner of man is this, that even the wind and the
sea obey him?” Never was this impressive scene forgotten by those
who witnessed it. Never will its wonderful majesty fail to inspire the
children of God with reverence and awe.
When he was rudely aroused by the terrified fishermen, the Saviour
had no fears for himself; his anxiety was for his disciples, who had
distrusted him in the time of danger. He reproved their fears, which
manifested their unbelief. They should have called upon him at the
first appearance of danger, and he would have relieved their anxiety.
But in their effort to save themselves they forgot that Jesus was on
board. How many, in the trying scenes of life, amid perplexities and
danger, fight against the storms of adversity alone, forgetting that there