Until the Storm Passes By
Tom Barnard
(04-12)
T
he late Norman Vincent Peale was one of the greatest storytellers of the 20th Century. His congregation at the
Marble Collegiate Church in New York loved to hear him preach and teach. In 1953 he preached a sermon
entitled, “A Safe Course Through Life’s Storms.” In it he gives a moving interpretation of the story of Jesus
calming the waters in Mark 4. Here are selected paragraphs from this sermon:
“I want to raise the question: what is a safe course through the storms of life? This is not an academic question. It
is one of the utmost practicalities. It is well to have a formula for meeting storms, and to be ready to apply it when
these storms come.
“One of the most interesting stories ever written, one filled with drama and picturesque in quality, is told in a
dozen lines, more or less. It is about our Lord who, with His disciples, was in a small boat on the lake. These
disciples were fishermen, sun tanned, vigorous, who knew the ways of wind and water. But the storm that burst
upon them was great, even for their experience. The sky was overcast, the lightning flashed, the winds blew, and the
water of the lake was whipped up into a seething mass of foam. The waves toyed with that boat sickeningly, seeking
to smash it to pieces. So great was the tumult and tempest and cataclysm of sound that these experienced sailors
were terrified. But they remembered their strangely gifted passenger aboard and they sought Him.
“Where did they find Him? Asleep in the stern of the boat, head resting on His arm, a perfect demonstration of
poise and relaxation. I have often thought how wonderful it must have been to gaze upon the face of Jesus as He
slept there. So pure was His mind, so undefiled His soul, so deeply peaceful His conscious and His subconscious
nature that He must have rested like a baby in the cradle of the deep. But these men cried, ‘Master, carest thou not
that we perish?’
“He opened His eyes with deliberation. He looked up at them and a slow smile crossed His face. He loved these
men; He knew their quality. They were His friends. ‘Why are you afraid? Haven’t you any faith?’ Then He arose,
stretched with the delicious health of body and soul which He possessed, walked across the deck, awash with water,
until He had one arm around the mast. The spume from the water drenched Him to the skin. His gown adhered to
His lithe figure; His face was wet with the spray and His hair tossed by the wind. There He stood, a mighty figure,
with cowering frightened human beings about Him. He raised His hand, and His voice was as clear as a silver bell
ringing out over the waters, ‘Peace, be still.’ And the Bible with its deft ability to paint pictures in a few words,
says—in one of the immortal passages of all time—‘And there was a great calm.’
“I have no doubt that Jesus quieted the actual waves. But I have always wondered where this great calm was—on
the water, or in the hearts of the men who looked at the water. The waves might still have been tumultuous; but the
disciples were no longer afraid, for they had peace in their hearts and they knew they could steer a safe course
through the storm.”
Friend, what storm are you passing through? Is it personal…physical…emotional…domestic…spiritual? We all
have storms of our own. Often we face them alone, or at least it seems we are facing them alone. They may be too
personal to share with anyone, even our closest friend. But we face them with all the resources and experience we
can muster. And nothing is working. Remember this one truth: as children of God we never face these storms alone.
The “Master of the Wind” is with us. He is always composed and confident. He may be only a boat’s width away
from us. And He is ready to calm the storm and still the waves that beat against our souls. Let’s read those old
words again, “And there was a great calm.” May you experience His peace today.
Over 130 years ago Horatio Spafford penned those immortal words that always bring hope to our troubled hearts:
When peace like a river attendeth my way; When sorrows like sea billows roll,
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say, “It is well, it is well with my soul.”
This essay has been sent your way through Tuesday Mornings, a weekly resource for Christians who need a lift.
For a free subscription to Tuesday Morning write to Dr. Tom Barnard at barnard22@cox.net Have a great week.