On that day, as evening drew on, Jesus said to his disciples: “Let us cross to the other side.” Leaving the crowd, they took Jesus with them in the boat just as he was. And other boats were with him. A violent squall came up and waves were breaking over the boat, so that it was already filling up. Jesus was in the stern, asleep on a cushion. They woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” He woke up, rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Quiet! Be still!” The wind ceased and there was great calm. Then he asked them, Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?” They were filled with great awe and said to one another, “Who then is this whom even wind and sea obey?” (Mark 4.35-41)
Context or circumstance is vitally important in almost every incident or event. It is no different in the gospels. A fuller understanding of the context in which the gospel writers composed their texts adds to a better understanding and a fuller appreciation of their work. With that in mind, we begin our study today not with the particular passage about the storm at sea that Jesus and the disciples suffered through, but with the broader context in which Mark wrote his gospel.
Generally, scholars agree that Mark wrote his gospel around 70 A.D. and he wrote it for the Christian community in Rome. Both assertions are important because they provide us with the context. The despotic Roman emperor Nero reigned for fourteen years, 54 until 68 A.D. While his early years showed promise, his later years were a tale of murder, persecution, and paranoia.
His downward spiral became pronounced when he had his mother Agrippina murdered in 59 A.D., although he had already had his stepbrother Britannicus killed four years earlier in 55 A.D. After his mother’s death, he seemingly lost all sense of right and wrong like a ship without mooring. He began to execute rivals and mentors alike.
For seven days in the latter part of July 64 A.D., the greater part of Rome burned, three of its fourteen districts destroyed and seven more severely damaged, resulting in mass homelessness and unbridled anger among the populace. Rumors began that Nero had started the fire because he wanted to clear a site for a palace.
Whether he was the instigator or not, he was smart enough to look for a scapegoat that would divert attention away from him. And that scapegoat was the Christian community in Rome. So, he promptly accused the Christians of starting the fire and began a campaign to have them arrested and executed. His penchant for cruelty knew no end. As a result, he had the Christians thrown into an arena with wild beasts that attacked and devoured them. He had others crucified.
His depravity reached its depth when he had Christians hung upon posts in his garden, their bodies coated with pitch and tar and set afire, in effect becoming human lamp posts, their agonizing screams heard as his invited guests walked through the gardens. A contemporary at the time, the Roman historian Tacitus later described the executions in no less taciturn way, writing “They were covered with wild beasts’ skins and torn to death by dogs; or they were fastened on crosses, and when daylight failed were burned to serve as lamps by night.”
In the midst of the chaos and uncertainty, it was commonplace for Christians to turn against one another in the hope of escaping persecution themselves, even intrafamilial betrayals becoming an ordinary occurrence. Ancient tradition maintains that it was during this persecution of Christians that both Peter and Paul were killed, Peter by being crucified and Paul by being beheaded.
So, when Mark writes to this group of Christians this work that we call his gospel these were the circumstances and the context that he had to address, giving greater meaning to almost everything he wrote. When Jesus says in Mark’s gospel, “Brother will hand over brother to death, and a father his child, and children will rise up against parents and have them put to death,” it was not hypothetical. Similarly, when Mark has Peter deny Jesus three times as the Teacher is brought to trial, it addresses the lived experiences of the community of believers in Rome.
And the story of the storm on the sea that is given to us today from Mark’s gospel also should be understood in much the same way, placed against the background of the fear and peril that the Christians in Rome were living out each and every day. When they heard this story about Jesus read to them, they understood it in a much deeper way than we ever will, cushioned and coddled as we are for the most part.
That is not to say that the storm on the sea was not a historical or factual event. The fact of the matter was that storms were common on the Sea of Galilee that was seven hundred feet below sea level and was surrounded by steep cliffs and mountains for the most part, making it particularly prone to the perfect storm because of the resulting high winds and huge waves, the latter reaching as high as thirty feet.
On hearing the story of the disciples on the boat with Jesus, the Christians in Rome understood exactly what being in the midst of a storm was, even if they had both feet on solid ground. For all intents and purposes, their lives were shaken and unmoored by the storm that Nero had instigated as surely as if they were in a small boat on the tumultuous sea, at any moment the vessel capsizing and their lives ending as they drowned beneath the raging waters.
Living in Rome in Nero’s day, they might as well have been on the Sea of Galilee in a fierce storm. And the cry of the disciples to Jesus as they are tossed and turned in the boat wasn’t some far-fetched prayer that the evangelist imagined. It was something that had crossed their very own lips many times as the tempest that Nero unleashed weighed down upon them, “Don’t you care that we are about to die?”
Realizing the specific context in which Mark wrote the gospel, we suddenly hear those words in a different way, having now a deeper understanding of what was going on in the lives of the first listeners of the text. The community of Christians in Rome were in the same boat and their faith was faltering as surely as that of the frightened disciples on the Sea of Galilee who faced the demonic waters and the maniacal winds.
All the more important, then, that Mark presents Rabbi Jesus as a person unaffected by the fierce storm and unbothered by the torrential winds. In fact, as Mark tells the story, Jesus “was in the stern, asleep on a cushion.” He is unperturbed by the presence of evil, knowing its power is limited and its reign will come to an end in the face of the omnipotence of the Almighty.
Awakened by the disciples, Jesus shows no immediate fear or concern. Quite the opposite. Mark, ever the succinct writer, simply states, “He woke up, rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Quiet! Be still!” And with those words, “The wind ceased and there was great calm.” As Mark has made clear from the very start, Jesus speaks with authority.
If we feel like there is something vaguely familiar, almost deja vu, in this episode, it is with good cause. Except for the details, we are seeing again almost the identical situation that Mark offered us back in Chapter 1 when Jesus began his public ministry with the expelling of the unclean spirit from the possessed man.
That earlier scene occurred in the synagogue when a man with an unclean spirit began to cry out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are–the Holy One of God!” Mark uses virtually the same vocabulary when describing Jesus’ answer. He writes, “Jesus rebuked him and said, “Quiet! Come out of him!” In the synagogue and now at the sea, Jesus “rebukes” the evil forces, an intentional reuse of the word by Mark. And the rebuke is contained by the same command. “Be quiet!”
Likewise, the response on the part of the unclean spirit is the same, Mark telling us that “the unclean spirit convulsed the man and with a loud cry came out of him.” And what was the reaction of the onlookers to the incident? He says, “All were amazed and asked one another, “What is this? A new teaching with authority. He commands even the unclean spirits and they obey him.”
It is the same reaction that we find on the faces of the disciples in the boat. Mark tells us “they were filled with great awe and said to one another, “Who then is this whom even wind and sea obey?” It is clear that Mark is presenting once again in the storm on the sea Jesus as the agent of divine power. He possesses power over these chaotic forces that seek to undermine the reign of God.
For Mark and for people of the time, the sea was seen as an abode of demonic monsters. So it is sensible that both stories–the cure of the possessed man and the calming of the sea–show an exorcism. And in both instances, Jesus is the one whose words and deeds are powerful. Mark wants to make that point very clear.
In fact, another important clue is dropped when he writes “after getting up” Jesus rebuked the sea. Mark intends us to visualize the scene, seeing Jesus as rising to his full stature on the stern of the boat much like Leonardo Dicaprio in the movie “Titanic,” and confronting the sea without fear and with full authority. Sadly, our translation simply says that Jesus “woke up,” an unfortunate choice of words when compared to the original Greek that expresses far more than somebody simply waking up from sleep.
So, after this excursus on the text, what are we to do with it for ourselves? I think Mark would have us take it as the first listeners did, finding in it both a reminder of Jesus’ victory over evil and our need for a more robust faith. That lesson seems indisputable in light of Jesus’ words to the disciples in the boat, “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?”
If Mark’s gospel was able to strengthen and sustain the early Christian community in Rome as they faced the savagery of Nero, then it should do the same for us, also living in chaotic and confusing times, even if not on the same scale as that of the early believers in the reign of the demonic emperor. Whatever our trials and tribulations, we are reminded again today that Jesus is the one who is all powerful, not the temporal leaders of this world.
When our faith is finally strong enough to accept that proposition without doubt, then we can join Jesus as he sleeps, his head resting on a cushion in the boat. Our sleep also will be untroubled, however fierce the wind or high the waves, because our faith is strong enough to weather the storm, knowing full well that we ultimately rest in the arms of Almighty.
–Jeremy Myers
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