We left early in the morning. I was seven years old, and my family was going on a car trip, driving from Burbank all the way to Chicago, Illinois, in our old Ford station wagon. Mom and Dad were in the front seat (Dad was driving), Grandma and my baby sister were in the back seat, and in the part of the station wagon that my other sister and I called “the way back,” a bed of blankets and pillows had been prepared for her and me.
I say we left early in the morning; really, it was the middle of the night. It was planned that our first day’s drive would take us across the Mojave Desert, through Las Vegas, and on to St. George, Utah. It was August, and the car had no air conditioning. Dad didn’t want to be doing that drive in the middle of the afternoon.
It must have been about three in the morning when we left. I don’t really remember. I have this vague memory of being woken up—it was dark out, obviously—and walking out to the car. I don’t think the car was even out of the driveway before I was back asleep.
Then I remember waking up, some time later, just as we headed up a freeway offramp. It was still dark out, mostly, although the sky directly ahead of us was beginning to glow. I rubbed my eyes and said, “are we there?”
We weren’t there. We were in Barstow, and something was wrong with the car. Turned out to be the wheel bearings. It took most of the morning to get the wheel bearings replaced. We waited, and—Barstow being a train town—my parents bought me a book all about trains to keep me occupied while we waited. I remember that the book had stickers, and a page that explained how to interpret the whistles: two short toots meant that the train was starting up; two long toots followed by two short toots meant that the train was approaching a crossing.
Finally, the car was ready, and we were on our way. I remember stopping in Las Vegas for gas. It was the middle of the afternoon. An electric sign across the street from the gas station said the temperature was 120 degrees. Dad wasn’t happy.
The rest of the trip was much better. We took our time getting to Chicago, seeing some of the sights along the way, and then spent a good week and a half in the windy city, staying with relatives while Dad attended a convention. On the way back, one of the places we drove through was Yellowstone National Park, and I remember watching Old Faithful just before sunset, and eating dinner at the Old Faithful Inn. Our plan was to spend that night in Jackson Hole, which meant we still had a ways to drive after dinner, so we finished eating and hopped back into the car.
Now, I had looked at the map. Even as a kid, I loved to look at maps. A few years later, those Chicago relatives moved to Santa Maria, and we drove up to visit them in their new home. After being in the car for several hours, we reached the sign that said “Santa Maria, next eight exits,” and it was then that my parents realized they had forgotten to grab the map & directions off of the refrigerator door, where they had of course posted it so that they wouldn’t forget it. The phone number was also on that piece of paper, and my parents didn’t know what to do. Fortunately, I had taken a passing glance at that map once when I opened the door to get myself a glass of milk, and led my parents to my relatives’ house, no problem.
If only I could remember people’s names as well as that.
Anyway, I had looked at the map that showed the road we would be taking from Yellowstone to Jackson Hole, and I noticed that we would pass right by a part of Yellowstone Lake called the West Thumb. On the map, it even looked like a thumb. Well, that sounded interesting; but because it was evening, and we’d had a long day, I knew that there was a good chance that I would fall asleep before we got there. So I told my parents to make sure I was awake when we got there. I didn’t want to miss seeing the lake that looked like a thumb.
The next thing I knew, I was waking up to a bright morning sun at a campground in Jackson Hole. That was my one big disappointment from that trip, that I didn’t get to see the West Thumb.
As curious as I was about all the sites we drove past, I’m sure there were other times besides these when it all caught up with me, and I fell asleep. As a child, I could always fall asleep when Dad was at the wheel. I had complete trust in him. Until I started learning how to drive myself.
It’s a lot harder for me to fall asleep in the car now, when someone else is driving. It doesn’t matter who it is. I know how quickly unexpected hazards can make a peaceful drive treacherous, and I just don’t have that same level of trust that I had as a child. Plus, I some-times worry that, if everyone else falls asleep, perhaps the driver will, too…and we won’t arrive safely.
It was at the end of a long day that Jesus invited his disciples to sail across the Sea of Galilee with him to the other side. Jesus took his place on the cushion, which served as the pilot’s seat; he was driving this boat. He was in command. The disciples were willing to follow Jesus anywhere. They were, in some ways, like children, trusting in Jesus to lead them, all the while learning from him. They hadn’t been his disciples for very long; they were all new recruits. When Jesus stepped into the boat and said, “Let us go to the other side,” they didn’t even question it. They just got in the boat.
The scripture says that Jesus got into the boat “just as he was.” What does that mean, “just as he was?” Does it mean he wasn’t wearing his traveling clothes, that he was still in his teaching clothes? Does it mean that he hadn’t yet washed up after supper, and still had some pieces of food stuck between his teeth? Does it mean that the effects of the wine he had with dinner hadn’t yet worn off?
Perhaps it means that he was just exhausted. After a long day of teaching, answering questions, training his new disciples… he was wiped out. In fact, that may have been why he wanted to go across to the other side in the first place. He wanted to get away from the crowds. He wanted to go someplace quiet, someplace where he could rest and restore his soul.
He got into the boat, just as he was, and the disciples did, too. And if Jesus was tired, then probably his disciples were tired, too.
Perhaps the disciples would have fallen asleep as the boat drifted across that large lake, but as soon as they started sailing, as soon as they got out on the water, the weather started turning rough. The wind kept getting stronger and stronger. Before long, waves started washing over into the boat.
They had been in boats before; some of them were experienced fishermen, and knew how to read the weather, and what the danger signs were. This was no gentle breeze; this was developing into a full-fledged windstorm. It doesn’t matter who you are, you have no business being out on the water in a storm like that. This, they knew. It was too dangerous.
And yet, there on the cushion, on the pilot’s seat, the person who should have been in charge, the person in whom they trusted to keep them safe, to get them to the other side—Jesus—lay fast asleep.
The disciples saw Jesus asleep in the boat. They saw the wind and the waves. The felt the boat tossing and turning. Then they felt the water; it was coming into the boat.
In the story world of the Bible, water is the home of monsters and demons. It’s not just that the disciples were getting wet. It’s not just that they were in danger of drowning. It’s that the boat, which was supposed to keep them separated and safe from the demon-infested waters, wasn’t doing its job. It wasn’t up to the task. The wind was too much. The forces of evil were threatening to overtake them.
Obviously, they were afraid.
They woke Jesus up. They woke him up, and said to him, “Teacher! Do you not care that we are perishing?” It was a question filled with fear. It was also a question filled with anger. After all, they felt that their trust had been betrayed. Jesus, their leader, had fallen asleep at the wheel!
Jesus woke up, and rebuked the wind. “Rebuke” is a word usually reserved for use in relation to demonic forces; Jesus rebuked the wind, and said to the sea: “Peace! Be still!”
And then that great howling wind, and that mighty roaring sea, instantly became calm. It wasn’t just that they lightened up a bit; no. Things went from a tremendous tumult to a silence so great that the only sound the disciples could hear was their own heartbeats. It was a dead calm.
I’m reminded of the scene in the “Sorcerer’s Apprentice,” that cartoon with Mickey Mouse in the movie Fantasia. Amidst the great swirling flood, with the soundtrack in a crescendo, the sorcerer appears, and with a wave of his outstretched arms, sends the water away. Then the music quiets down so dramatically that it can barely be heard. And Mickey looks at the sorcerer; and the sorcerer looks at Mickey.
In that great, silent calm, Jesus looked at the disciples, and the disciples looked at Jesus. I imagine that the words Jesus spoke were barely a whisper, and yet they seemed to the disciples to be even louder than the roaring wind.
“Why are you afraid? Where is your faith?”
And the disciples wondered, “Who is this man?”
As followers of Jesus, we certainly do place our trust in God. But let’s be honest: there are certainly times in life when it is hard to trust, times when—no matter how tired we are—we can’t help but keep our eyes open, because we’re afraid.
There are times when the storms are pounding against us. There are times when we struggle to make our way, but the wind keeps pushing us back. There are times when we work so hard to stay afloat, and yet the waves come beating in so fast that we cannot bail the water out fast enough.
There are times when demons and forces of evil threaten to overtake us. Now, most of us stopped believing in monsters a long time ago. Many of us aren’t even sure about demons. I’ve never gone to the beach and heard of someone refusing to go swimming in the ocean because they were afraid of demons. But we know that there is evil, and there are temptations, and sometimes that evil and those temptations do threaten to overtake us and drag us down…
And then there are times when it seems that God is asleep at the wheel. For whatever reason, that is a common experience. The psalmists felt God’s absence, and Jesus did, too, on the cross. “Where are you, God? Don’t you care that we are perishing?”
In such difficult times, it is easy to lose one’s faith. In the face of difficulty or evil, it is easy to abandon hope. It is easy to be overwhelmed by fear.
And yet, that fear just may be the greatest, most terrible demon of all. Because fear really can drag you under. Without faith in God, without trust, without hope, the boat will not make it to the other side. Without faith, hope, and trust, you might as well give up now, because you’re not going to make it.
Fortunately, we have each other. We’re not in this boat alone. When one of us becomes frightened or loses faith, others will step in with encouragement. Others will provide the hope that was thought to be lost. They’ll remind us: that even though it may appear that God is asleep at the wheel, the truth is that God is in control of the wind and the waves; and no matter how hard they may beat against us, we will make it to the other side.
The disciples thought that Jesus didn’t care. He was asleep during the storm! Had he given up? Was it just too much for him? Was he having a mental breakdown? Was he not aware of the danger?
No. He simply trusted. He trusted in God to bring him safely to the other side.
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