Introduction
Each of the synoptic Gospels uses this short scene from Mark and both Matthew and Luke stay pretty close to Mark’s form. Jesus, along with his disciples, leaves the crowds to ‘go to the other side.’ And as they are crossing the sea by boat, a great windstorm comes, and the boats are getting swamped with water. But Jesus is asleep. They wake him up, shouting that they are “perishing” (more on that later). Then Jesus wakes, calms the storm, asks them why they are afraid or where their faith is. And each end with their amazement and asking a version of, “Who then is this, that even the wind and sea obey him?”
I love when these texts are nearly identical because then we see the subtle changes that each author/creator makes.
So, let’s look at a few of the differences.
Other boats
Mark is the only one who indicates that there are multiple boats. Something that seems to be true about Mark is that there are always the twelve, but there are also other disciples who always seem to be following too. This is clear in 4:10 when the group is asking Jesus to explain the parables. It says, “When [Jesus] was alone, those who were around him along with the twelve asked him about the parables.” Mark rarely indicates that it is only the twelve that are with Jesus but that sometimes that seems to be the intention of Matthew and Luke unless the crowds are mentioned. And so, this increased number of boats might just be the twelve, but it could also be this unknown and unnamed group of disciples too that always seem to be present.
The Disciples wake up Jesus
All three synoptics have a different phrasing of the words the disciples use to wake Jesus up.
Matthew: “Lord, save us! We are perishing!”
Luke: “Master, Mater, we are perishing.”
Mark: “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”
This line from Mark always cuts me deep. ‘Do you not care…?’ Thinking about Mark’s context, this feels like a question that many were asking. With the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple. With the diaspora. With families fractured and split apart. Do you not care that we are perishing?
There is an apocalyptic feel to this scene already with the wind and the sea. Great leviathan coming to swallow them all whole. And so, Mark brings the audience into that place. Recognizing that the world he is living in is feeling rather apocalyptic… God, do you not care that we are perishing?
Perishing
Perishing is an intense word choice and one that all three Gospels keep: ἀπολλύμεθα.
This word can be translated as ‘to destroy’ or ‘ruin’, or reflexively ‘to lose’ or ‘to perish.’ The NRSV translates it as perish, but Mark Vitalis Hoffman and others translate it as, “Teacher, don’t you care that we are going to die?”
But this verb comes up more often than you might think (this is not an exhaustive list but includes some of the more intriguing ones—all translations from the NRSV).
Mark 1:24 and he cried 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 3:6 The Pharisees went out and immediately conspired with the Herodians against him, how to destroy him.
Mark 8:35 For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.
Mark 11:18 And when the chief priests and the scribes heard it, they kept looking for a way to kill him; for they were afraid of him, because the whole crowd was spellbound by his teaching.
Mark 12:9 What then will the owner of the vineyard do? He will come and destroy the tenants and give the vineyard to others.
I think why I love this word is that it should feel easy to translate, right? Aren’t all of these indicating death or killing in some way? But immediately that is in a little bit of tension.
Can demons be killed? The Matthean tradition says no, it returns with 7 more evil spirits with it (see Matthew 12:43-45).
Are the Pharisees and Herodians trying to kill Jesus this early (3:6) in the Gospel or destroy his personhood, soul, or reputation?
Does Jesus mean that we have to save our life by literally dying or is this a figure of speech that indicates that we are losing a part of ourselves (more Pauline in dying and rising)?
By Mark 11, have the chief priests and scribes now committed to killing Jesus because it has gotten so out of hand? Or has the NRSV gone too far with this translation?
In this parable (12:9), does this destroy language indicate death of the tenants or does it indicate a pushing away, an eviction?
Obviously, all of these are still intense words, but there is not a clear indication of what kind of death.
Connecting this to the previous section here, I think this scene is a breaking of the 4th wall in some ways. Yes, the scene would indicate a kind of literal dying, but in this apocalyptic image, are the disciples actually crying out in the same way as those who saw the temple destroyed? Are they crying out for the friends and family that have been separated? Are they crying out for their souls, being lost and without direction?
While we could easily take this at face value, this seems to be a moment for Mark to really connect with his audience (especially after 10-20 years later Matthew and Luke don’t ask the question nearly as dramatically). “Do you not care that we are perishing?”
Jesus responds
When does Jesus calm the storm and when does he respond?
In Mark and Luke, Jesus rebukes (like a demon or Peter) the storm and then asks the disciples why they are afraid and have no faith. But Matthew has Jesus ask, “Why are you afraid, you of little faith?” while the storm is still raging and THEN he calms the storm.
While we are not in Matthew, this feels important to contrast because in Mark then, Jesus is not going to toy with the disciples. Jesus immediately responds by rebuking the storm. And in contrast to Matthew and Luke, we actually hear Jesus’ words, “Peace! Be Still!”
It is only once there is a “dead calm” that Jesus finally asks these questions, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”
They Did Have Faith Though…
Why do the disciples wake Jesus up? Is Jesus the best sailor (even though there are at least 4 fishermen present)? Is Jesus the best critical thinker in tough situations? Or were the disciples hoping and praying that Jesus is as powerful as they hope?
Their question’s intensity indicates that they know that no human effort can overcome this situation. This is a great windstorm, enough the scare even the most advanced fishermen. And so, they are turning to Jesus with faith. “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” They are hoping and praying that Jesus, with his power to cast our demons and heal hundreds of people, can somehow do something to save them in this situation. They have faith. And hope.
And yes, they are also afraid. Because what if he doesn’t have this power? We hope he does but does he actually?
Preaching Possibilities
The parable among parables
David Schnasa Jacobsen has an interesting point that I won’t elaborate but may generate some ideas for you.
“The apocalyptic hiddenness of the parables continues to struggle to register with Jesus’ disciples, but now they are focused on his person. Their fear in v.41 along with their question highlight how Jesus is the parable of his parables here: “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” For all the parables of the kingdom and its hidden, mysterious nature and God’s steadfast commitment to revealing everything, Jesus himself is still something of an almost parabolic mystery to his disciples.”[1]
Do we have confidence in God’s action?
This is the story that we want to be true in our lives. We want God to come in a silence the storms of war, racism, hatred, bigotry, and literal climate catastrophes. We have been crying out. Does God not hear us? And I think many of us have been discouraged by what feels like a lack of response. In the midst of the storm, the wind just seems to keep raging.
I am not saying that God does not care about those things. But when we focus on the macro emergencies, we miss the stilling storms that are all around us. I believe that God has the power to end war, hatred, and save us all from ourselves. And I believe that some of that is happening one small storm at a time.
In my story, there was a time that I was crying out (internally) for God to save me from myself. Six years of heavy drinking and drug use. Getting lost in destruction. And somehow God calmed that storm. Somehow 5 nights in a hospital with pancreatitis calmed the storm enough that I was able to enter into a life of recovery and I have been sober for 9.5 years since. And I have heard that story from so many others in recovery. Out in a raging storm of addiction, only to have a moment of calm that brought hope and possibility. If we only look at the macro picture and the rising opioid crisis, we miss the many moments of calm and sobriety that have reached many of our families and people in the pews.
God is still active and responding to the cries of God’s people. We may just have to look closer at the relationships in our lives and not just out at the massive scope to which we have little relation.
To be clear, this is not saying that we should not care about the larger picture. But we will only see the changes and the progress through the relationships that we have developed and nurtured over time.
Rather than getting super wide in our scope of “perishing,” what are the local storms that we are praying for in our community? What are the personal storms that have calmed in our lives? Where can we see God acting in our lives and in the lives of our neighbors?
[1] David Schnasa Jacobsen, Mark, 74-75.
Micah Krey 
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