"Master the Tempest is Raging"

You always know you are in for a busy and challenging semester when your first post after the start of school is entitled "Master the Tempest is Raging."  All jokes aside, I am excited about my courses this semester.  Each of my courses will be both intellectually challenging and rewarding, and by the end of this semester, I will only have three more courses that I will take for the rest of my life.  After a solid decade worth of college classes, that is hard to imagine.  Perhaps in five or ten years, I'll even tell you that I miss the opportunity to take classes (though I doubt I'll ever miss the accompanying deadlines and subsequent headaches).

"Storm on the Sea of Galilee" by Rembrandt, 1633.

It is specifically those headaches and stressful situations that I want to write about today.  For the past week or so, I have been thinking about President Howard W. Hunter's masterful talk, "Master the Tempest is Raging", given in the October 1984 general conference, and the accompanying story of the Savior calming the storm on the Sea of Galilee.  I have heard this story all of my life and never cease to be amazed by the power of the Savior manifest within it.  But in many ways I feel like we too often neglect the corresponding story of the disciples on the water--a story that we generally have much more in common with.

Matthew's recounting of the story is simple.  "And when he was entered into a ship, his disciples followed him.  And, behold, there arose a great tempest in the sea, insomuch that the ship was covered with the waves: but he was asleep.  And his disciples came to him, and awoke him saying, Lord, save us: we perish.  And he saith unto them, Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?  Then he arose, and rebuked the winds and the sea; and there was a great calm.  But the men marvelled, saying, What manner of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him!" (Matthew 8:23-27)  From this account, we can, if we are not careful, get the wrong impression of the disciples.  We can see them as fearful and faithless men who were frightened by a minor upheaval.  And in the grand scheme of things, and in comparison with the many storms that have taken place in this world, this was probably just a minor upheaval.  Others had been through and would go through worse and more dangerous storms.  But Mark's account adds a few important details about the storm itself, that can perhaps mellow some of our feelings about the way that the disciples handled this particular storm.

He wrote, "There arose a great storm of wind, and the waves beat into the ship, so that it was now full.  And he was in the hinder part of the ship, asleep on a pillow: and they awake him, and say unto him, Master, carest thou not that we perish?  And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still.  And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm" (Mark 4:37-39).  While bigger storms have certainly blown, this was no minor squall for the disciples.  The boat was filling with water, the waves were high, and survival if the boat sank was anything but certain.  Further, it is important to remember that there were, on board that boat, at least three experienced fishermen who knew those waters and who knew those storms.  Indeed, the Savior appears to have turned the conveyance of the party completely over to the skilled hands of either Peter, James, or John, and then retired to gain some much needed rest.

And here is one of the points that impresses me:  The Savior, He who did all things perfectly, had placed complete trust in one (or more) of those men to guide the ship and to get the disciples safely to shore.  The Savior knew all things.  He was likely laid down his head on that pillow, knowing that a storm would arise, water would begin to fill the boat, and serious dangers would arise.  Yet He trusted the abilities of his able fishermen to handle the boat.  Perhaps at least one reason for his seemingly harsh rebuke, "Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?" was because they had not trusted enough in their own abilities to handle the crisis.  I cannot fault the disciples for being scared--I would have been among the most fearful.  I cannot fault the disciples for turning immediately to the Lord for help, and even wondering why He had not been more immediate in His display of power--I likely would have been the first one asking these questions.  But I can fault myself for the times in which I fail to utilize all of the strength, abilities, and understanding that God has given me to fight my way through my own storms.

While our ultimate faith and hope is in Christ only, I believe there is a sense in which we are supposed to have faith in ourselves and our ability to survive life's storms with faith in Christ and a bucket to bail out the water that begins to pour over the bow.  The Savior slept comfortably, trusting in the abilities of those whom He had placed at the helm, and so must we, including and perhaps especially when it is we who stand at the helm of the boat!  If the Savior Himself has such confidence in us, ought we not have confidence (not arrogance) in ourselves?  Then, when we have done all within our ability and the storm still threatens to sink the boat, we can approach the throne of grace "with the utmost assurance, to see the salvation of God, and for his arm to be revealed" (D&C 123:17).

Brett