Koen Davies 6B
Jesus Calms the Storm
Matthew 8: 23-27
Mark 4: 35-41
Luke 8: 22-25
My
name is John. Not John the Baptist, I’m John the Disciple of Jesus. I want to
tell you a story. This is a story about a man named Jesus.
Jesus
was the Son of God, but he was called more than that. Believers called him The
Prince of Peace, or The Lamb who was Slain.
Some
do not believe in Jesus; they believe in false gods called Idols. But in this
story, I’m going to tell you about the true God, Jesus Christ, God’s own Son.
“Come
on John!” a voice cried out across the sandy shores.
“Coming!”
I yelled. My feet blew hot sand in every direction as I ran toward Peter, my
fellow disciple. Peter’s black hair swirled in the light breeze. His coat spun
around him.
“What
took you so long? We were waiting for you!” Peter yelled. I hung my head a
little.
“I
didn’t realize the time.” I said. That wasn’t the truth though, my dream was to
write a book about Jesus one day. I had been writing notes about Jesus’s latest
parable, The Parable of the Mustard Seed.
“Well
get in the boat already, Jesus said we should go to the other side of the lake,
and I don’t want to keep him waiting any longer.” Peter said to me, turning his
gaze to the setting sun.
The
sun cast a reddish gleam over the still waters. As I jumped into the boat, I
ran to the front and stared out.
The water rippled
as Peter lifted the sails and the boat started its journey.
“Where is Jesus?”
I asked another disciple, James, without taking my eyes off the sunset.
“He’s below deck,
sleeping I suppose.” James said, not looking up from a scrap of wood he had
been cutting with a small, but effective, knife.
Yet another
disciple, Andrew stepped over.
“I don’t like the
look of those clouds.” he said staring up at the darkening sky. I looked up.
Dark gray clouds
floated menacingly over the lake, threatening us. I groaned. I couldn’t believe
we had just gotten aboard the boat, and now there was a storm coming!
I stood up, and
walked past James, Andrew, Peter, and more of Jesus’s disciples so I could get
to the top of the deck.
I liked this place
aboard the boat because it was quiet. I could work on my writing in peace.
Suddenly, thunder
sounded. Lightning flashed, illuminating the dark sky for a split second, and
then the sky turned back to an inky black. The boat started to rock.
My notes slipped
from my hands.
“No!” I cried and
dived forward to save them. My hand closed around most of my notes. All I could
do was watch my notes on the Mustard Seed flutter down into the dark waves
below. The water swallowed the pieces of parchment. I quickly checked through
my notes. At least half of them were gone!
“John! John!” I
heard Peter cry. “John where are you?”
I’m over here!” I
yelled, though now the wind was speeding up, so I doubted he could possibly
hear me over all this noise.
So I struggled my
way across the deck. I slipped and fell onto the deck, and rain splattered over
my coat. I groaned and I could taste sticky blood in my mouth.
I worked my way
into a standing position, not easy when the wind is blowing on you from behind
and every drop of rain that hits you feels like a chunk of wood.
I collapsed to my
knees when I could see the shadowy outlines of Peter and James heading for me.
“We should go to
see Jesus!” I yelled at them. “If he’s the Son of God, he should be able to
help us!” A wave of ice cold water splashed onto the deck, freezing my knees
and feet.
“I agree with
John!” James yelled, facing Peter. Peter looked at him for a second, and then
he nodded.
“I also agree.”
Peter shouted. We gripped the side of the boat and edged our way along the
side.
I could hear the
other disciples screaming for help, but I couldn’t see them through the rain
that was falling thick and fast.
At last we reached
the door to below deck, and Peter pushed the door open. We scrambled down the
stairs, the force of the rain blowing mist at us. James slammed the door shut,
and I could finally see Peter and James.
Peter was gasping
for breath, rain dripped off his shoulders and his hair clung to the side of
his face.
James wasn’t much
difference, except he was shivering. I looked around. Below the boat was dry
and warm. In the middle of the deck was a cushion, and Jesus lay fast asleep
upon it.
Jesus’s hair was a
light brown, and it hung down to his shoulders. He wore white robes of linen
that seemed extra bright in the dimly light boat.
Peter stepped
forward and said “Jesus! Lord save us! We are going to drown!”
Jesus opened his
eyes and looked up at Peter. Then Jesus spoke to Peter: “You of little faith,
why are you so afraid?”
Peter seemed to be
embarrassed by this statement. Jesus got up and walked toward the door.
I followed him,
with Peter and James behind me. A slight smile had appeared on James face,
perhaps he thought that Peter’s embarrassment was very funny.
Jesus stepped out
onto the deck, and the disciples stopped yelling. Jesus walked straight down
the center of the boat.
When he got to the
tip of the boat, he lifted his arms to the heavens. Rain splattered down on my
face as I watched in amazement. Through the rain I could hear Jesus speaking.
“Quiet!” Jesus
shouted. Some of the disciples thought this was directed at them, so their
mouths closed in unison. But I got the feeling Jesus wasn’t talking to them.
“Be still!” Jesus cried, and suddenly, the rain stopped. The waves took one
last crash and disappeared under the water. The wind turned into a soft breeze.
I stared at Jesus
in wonder and in amazement. Water still remained splattered over the deck, and
my coat was drenched with ice cold water, but the storm had passed.
Jesus turned to
look at us. We stood still as statues.
“Where is your
faith?’ said Jesus softly. The breeze tossed his hair into his face and his
smile was mysterious. He turned and walked back down to below deck, his feet
thumping down the stairs.
And just as I saw
the outline of land, I had realized that Jesus Christ, is The Son of God. The
Prince of Peace. The Lamb Who was Slain.
So that’s my
story. The story about Jesus and his miraculous miracles. How he saved us from
that storm.
But somethings
about this story still trouble me. Look at what Jesus says to Peter. ‘You of
little faith, why are you so afraid?’ I think that little faith is sort of like
saying that God is real, that Jesus is the son of God, but you ignore him the
rest of the time. And we don’t need to be afraid like me and the other
disciples, we had Jesus with us. If we trust in him, we don’t need to be scared
of the crashing waves.
And I also think a
lot about the line ‘Where is your faith?’ I think it means does your faith
belong to God, or to the Idols of sin?
So I end with this
question: Where is your faith?
