In the Fourth Watch of the Night

Nothing good ever happens at 3 a.m.

 If you’re awake at that hour, it’s almost always for the wrong reasons.  Perhaps there is the off chance that some cable channel is showing an all-night marathon of your favorite show, but with TiVo now there is no reason to actually stay up and watch it.  Most often, though, you’re staring at the clock on the nightstand thinking about how many (or more likely, how few) hours until the alarm will sound to start the day, a day that is sure to be long and difficult after a night of very little sleep.  When the phone rings at that hour of the night, it can never be good news.  I’ve only gotten a handful of late night calls, and rarely are they ever from a friend who just wants to say, “hey.”

 The stretch of time between about one o’clock and four o’clock is sort of a no-man’s land, a time when only cashiers at gas stations and swing-shift nurses and insomniacs are awake.  Those who have spent time awake at that hour know that it can seem as if the earth actually slows on its axis and the hours actually creep by at a slower pace than during the rest of the day.  The hours just drag on and on until that glimmer of sunlight begins to appear on the horizon, and life can finally return to normal and the clock can resume its normal pace.

 Nothing good ever happens at 3 a.m.

 These wee hours of the morning are an especially bad time to be in a boat caught in the middle of a ferocious storm.  Just ask Jesus’ disciples.  They found themselves in this predicament not once, but on two separate occasions.  And both times Jesus, the one person whom they trusted more than anyone, was either asleep in the back of the boat or back on shore.  Terror.  Exhaustion.  And worst of all, a sense of total abandonment.

 Nothing good ever happens at 3 a.m.

 These two stories (found in Mark 4 and 6) begin very similarly.  It’s been a long, hard day of preaching, healing, and performing miracles, and Jesus and crew are tired and ready to get away from the crowds for awhile.  They hop in a boat on the shore of Galilee for a quick trip across the lake for a change of scenery and, hopefully, some time out of the spotlight.  The only difference at this point in the stories is that on the first occasion Jesus joins the disciples for the cruise, on the other he stays behind for a little alone time. 

 On this second occasion, Jesus has had a particularly rough day himself.  He finds out his cousin, John the Baptist, has been killed by Herod.  The crowds won’t leave him alone, and he ends up feeding thousands of people using only a kid’s sack lunch.  He finally sends the crowds away, and needs some time to grieve and regroup, so he sends his disciples on ahead of him so he can be alone with the Father.

 Once the Twelve are out in open waters, the stories become similar again in that the roughly five-mile trip across the lake becomes treacherous as the winds pick up and the waves threaten to swamp the disciples’ boat.  The disciples, many of whom are seasoned fishermen and know this lake very well, are scared out of their minds.  And Jesus is fast asleep in the back of the boat in one story; he isn’t even in the boat in the other.  They have seen him heal the sick, cast out demons, and feed thousands.  But now, when their lives are at risk, Jesus is of no help at all.

 Nothing good ever happens at 3 a.m.

 There is something that bothers me about these stories.  What I find troubling is that in both stories Jesus tells the disciples to get into the boat.  It is reasonable to assume that Jesus, being God Incarnate, knows there are storms brewing over the Sea of Galilee.  And he sends his disciples out there anyway.  The disciples obey their Master and very quickly find themselves in the middle of a life-threatening squall in the middle of a lake in the middle of the night – twice.

 So often we equate trials and troubles with disobedience.  We must be outside of God’s will for us because circumstances have taken such a dramatic turn for the worse.  Being in the middle of God’s will means nothing can go wrong… right?  Apparently not.

 If we are acting in obedience to our Master, we might expect some minor opposition or some small obstacles to get in our way.  Maybe some small waves lapping at the bow of the boat.  Maybe the boat will rock a little, causing a bit of queasiness for the faint of heart and stomach.  But no one would expect the type of storms the disciples faced.

 As the stories approach their endings, they again diverge in terms of their details.  In the first instance, the disciples frantically try to wake up Jesus.  “Don’t you even care that we are going to drown?!”  They shout and cry in utter desperation.  They have seen him heal the sick and feed thousands; surely he can get them out of this storm.  They are on the verge of drowning, but Jesus is off in dreamland. 

 In the second story, the disciples are battling the storm completely on their own.  Jesus is nowhere to be found.  Then, as if they aren’t scared enough, they think they see a ghost heading their way.  It turns out to be none other than Jesus himself, but according to Mark, he is going to walk right past them.  Only when they scream in terror does he stop for them.  Daringly skeptical Peter takes a few steps out of the boat to confirm that it is in fact Jesus, but he quickly needs to be rescued. 

 The second thing that troubles me about these stories is that Jesus is essentially absent in the midst of the storms.  In the first he is sleeping; in the second he is on shore.  The disciples are in the middle of a huge storm.  They are exhausted from hours of fighting winds and waves.  The boat is taking on water.  Land is nowhere in sight.  The disciples believe they are at death’s door. You know it has to be a pretty bad storm to have seasoned fishermen scared for their lives. 

It seems bad enough that our obedience does not grant us smooth sailing in our endeavors, that Jesus sends us out into the world knowing full well the trials and tribulations that await us.  But to add insult to injury, he often seems to abandon us in the midst of those trials and tribulations.  How often do we fight the winds and waves, only to look over and see Jesus asleep in the back of the boat?  Or worse yet, we see an empty seat where the Savior ought to be.  How many times have we, like the disciples in that boat, cried out, “Don’t you even care that we are going to drown?”

 These stories seem to run very contrary to what we’d like to believe about the character of God and our obedience to him.  We’d like to think that if we are faithful and obedient to God’s calling in our lives, that we will be rewarded with success and blessing.  Or at the very least that we aren’t going to feel our lives are in danger.  Why would God knowingly send us into the winds and the waves, and worse yet, seem to abandon us when the storms are at their worst?

 It would be nice if we could look at these two stories and see them as anomalies.  Perhaps Jesus was just having a long, hard day.  Perhaps, in his humanity, he accidentally let one (or two) slip by him.  Perhaps he fell asleep on the job (in both the literal and metaphorical sense).

 Unfortunately, we can’t rack this up to divine negligence.  The hard truth is that Jesus never promised us smooth sailing, even when he’s the one who puts us in the boat.  In fact, he promised the opposite: trials and persecution.  He told us to expect these things.

 However, the stories don’t end there.  In the first one, Jesus wakes up and rebukes the winds and waves, telling them to “be still” and “be quiet.”  I’m going to go out on a limb here and conjecture that it isn’t just the winds and waves that Jesus rebukes.  I think those words are meant for the disciples as well.  After all, his words have the same calming effect on both the storm and his followers.  When they look around and see the glassy seas, the disciples stare at each other in stunned silence.

 In the second account, Jesus pulls the sinking Peter out of the water, probably by the scruff of his neck.  They get back in the boat, and this time without even speaking, the waters are still, bringing the same stunned silence on the part of the disciples.

 As stated earlier, Jesus never promised us smooth sailing.  He never promised that obedience would be easy.  He never said that there would not be moments in life when we feel absolutely abandoned and alone.  He is not at all shocked when we shake our fists at the skies and cry out, “Don’t you even care?!”

 And yet, in the midst of the storms, he is right there.  It may seem that he is sleeping.  It may seem that he is arriving too late.  But he is there, and he offers us his peace.  He is there at just the right time to calm the storms, or perhaps more importantly to calm us in the midst of the storms.