Commentary - Matthew 8:23-27

Bird's-eye view

In this brief but potent narrative, Matthew presents us with a picture of the created order in tumult and the Creator of that order in repose. A sudden, violent storm descends upon the Sea of Galilee, threatening to swamp the boat carrying Jesus and His disciples. The disciples, some of whom were seasoned fishermen, are terrified into a state of panic. Jesus, in stark contrast, is sound asleep. When they finally wake Him in desperation, He first rebukes their fear and unbelief before rebuking the storm itself. The immediate and absolute obedience of the wind and waves to His command reveals something profound about His identity, leaving the disciples in a state of awe-struck wonder. This event is far more than a mere nature miracle; it is a living parable about the authority of Christ over every form of chaos, whether meteorological, demonic, or the internal chaos of the fearful human heart. It forces the question that echoes at the end of the passage: "What kind of a man is this?"

The story serves as a crucial building block in Matthew's argument for the divinity of Jesus. He has just demonstrated His authority over disease (Matt 8:1-17); now He demonstrates His absolute authority over the elemental forces of creation. The disciples' journey from frantic fear to profound awe is the journey every believer must take as they come to a right understanding of who Jesus is. He is not simply a great teacher or a miracle worker; He is the sovereign Lord to whom all authority in heaven and on earth has been given.


Outline


Context In Matthew

This episode is part of a series of ten miracles that Matthew groups together in chapters 8 and 9, following the Sermon on the Mount (chapters 5-7). This structure is deliberate. In the Sermon, Jesus taught with an authority that astonished the people (Matt 7:28-29). Now, Matthew demonstrates that Jesus' authority is not limited to His words. He has authority over leprosy, paralysis, fever, demons, and, in our text, the very fabric of the natural world. This section is designed to answer the question of Jesus' identity and authority. The calming of the storm is a particularly powerful demonstration because in the Old Testament, only God Himself is shown to have dominion over the chaotic seas (e.g., Ps 89:9; 107:23-30). By doing what only Yahweh does, Jesus is making a profound statement about who He is. The event immediately precedes the casting out of the Gadarene demons, another display of His authority over chaos, this time in the spiritual realm.


Key Issues


The Lord of the Waves

When we read the Old Testament, the sea is often a symbol of chaos, disorder, and the untamable power of a fallen world. The Psalmist declares of God, "You rule the raging of the sea; when its waves rise, you still them" (Ps 89:9). The sea is God's to command. So when this story unfolds, we are not just watching a man perform a magic trick. We are watching the God who set the boundaries for the oceans step into a fishing boat with His disciples. The storm is not an accident; it is a divine appointment. God ordained this squall for the purpose of catechizing His disciples.

Jesus is asleep in the boat, which demonstrates His true humanity. He gets tired, just like us. But His sleep is also a picture of perfect trust. He is not troubled by the storm because He is its Lord. The disciples, on the other hand, are awake and terrified. Their fear is a direct result of their "little faith." They believed in Jesus enough to follow Him into the boat, and they believed in Him enough to cry out to Him for salvation, but they did not yet grasp the fullness of His identity. Their faith was present, but small. They saw the waves as sovereign, and Jesus as a potential helper. They had it backwards. Jesus was sovereign, and the waves were His servants. The miracle was not just for the purpose of saving their lives, but for the purpose of reshaping their theology.


Verse by Verse Commentary

23 And when He got into the boat, His disciples followed Him.

The action is simple but significant. Jesus leads, and the disciples follow. This is the essence of discipleship. They are not just students in a classroom; they are followers of a person. They are getting into the boat with Him, which means they are committing to go where He goes, even if it leads them directly into a storm. This is a foundational principle for the Christian life. When we follow Christ, we do not get a promise of smooth sailing, but we do get the promise of His presence in the boat with us.

24 And behold, there arose a great storm on the sea, so that the boat was being covered with the waves; but Jesus Himself was sleeping.

The storm is described as "great," a seismos megas, a great shaking. This is not a minor squall. The boat is being swamped. For experienced fishermen to be terrified, the danger must have been extreme and immediate. And in the middle of this chaos, Matthew presents a stunning contrast: "but Jesus Himself was sleeping." His sleep is not a sign of indifference, but of sovereignty. It is the calm repose of one who is in absolute control. He can sleep through the storm because He is the one who rules the storm. This is a picture of the peace that passes all understanding, a peace rooted not in circumstances, but in the unshakable reality of God's sovereign power.

25 And they came to Him and got Him up, saying, “Save us, Lord; we are perishing!”

Their desperation drives them to Jesus. This is a mercy. In their terror, they do the right thing: they go to the Lord. Their prayer is short, to the point, and orthodox: "Save us, Lord." They acknowledge His lordship and their desperate need for salvation. However, their cry is tinged with panic. "We are perishing!" reveals their perspective. They are interpreting the circumstances through the lens of fear, not faith. They see the water coming over the sides of the boat and conclude that their end is near. They have forgotten who is in the boat with them.

26 And He said to them, “Why are you so cowardly, you men of little faith?” Then He got up and rebuked the winds and the sea, and it became perfectly calm.

Notice the order of events. Before Jesus deals with the storm outside the boat, He deals with the storm inside the disciples. He rebukes their fear first. "Why are you so cowardly?" He asks. The root of their cowardice is their "little faith." The word is oligopistoi. It doesn't mean they had no faith, but that their faith was small and weak. They had enough faith to wake Him up, but not enough to rest with Him in the storm. Their fear was a theological failure. They failed to draw the right conclusions from the presence of the Son of God in their boat. After correcting His disciples, He then stands and rebukes the wind and the sea. The word "rebuke" is the same word used for silencing demons. He speaks to the elements as a master speaks to an unruly servant, and the result is immediate and total: a "perfect calm." The chaos is instantly replaced by tranquility at His command.

27 And the men marveled, and said, “What kind of a man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey Him?”

The disciples' fear of the storm is now replaced by a different kind of fear: awe. They marveled. The word implies astonishment mixed with a holy dread. The immediate cessation of the storm was perhaps more terrifying than the storm itself. It shattered all their categories. They were confronted with a power that did not belong to the world of ordinary men. Their question, "What kind of a man is this?" is the central question of Matthew's Gospel. They don't have the full answer yet, but they are being forced to reckon with the reality that the man sleeping in their boat is unlike any other. He is the one whom creation itself obeys. He is the Lord.


Application

Every Christian finds himself in this boat. We follow Jesus, and following Him leads us directly into storms. These are the ordinary trials of life: financial trouble, sickness, relational conflict, cultural chaos. The waves threaten to swamp us, and our first instinct is often the same as the disciples': panic. We look at the size of the waves instead of the identity of the one who is with us in the boat.

Jesus' question to them is His question to us: "Why are you so cowardly, you men of little faith?" Our fear in the midst of trials is a form of functional atheism. It is a failure to believe what we say we believe about God's sovereignty and Christ's authority. We act as though the storm is ultimate, and Jesus is a distant, sleeping figure we have to frantically awaken. The truth is that Christ is Lord over the storm, and the storm itself is a tool in His hands, designed to teach us to trust Him more deeply.

The application is not that if we have enough faith, God will always calm our external circumstances. The application is that if we have faith, God will calm the storm in our hearts, even if the waves outside continue to rage. The goal is to move from the frantic fear of the disciples to the profound peace of the sleeping Christ. We do this by confessing our "little faith" as sin and asking God to replace our fear with a holy awe. We must learn to ask the right question. Not, "Will this storm destroy me?" but rather, "What kind of a man is this, who rules the storm and holds me in His hand?" When we are rightly astonished by Him, the storms of this life are put in their proper perspective.