The Lord of the Storm Text: Matthew 14:22-36
Introduction: The Government on His Shoulders
We come now to a passage that is familiar to most Christians. Jesus walks on the water. It is a story so well known that it has become a cultural idiom for doing the impossible. But familiarity, as they say, can breed contempt, or at least a dull sort of indifference. We hear the story, we nod along, and we miss the absolute bombshell that Matthew is dropping into our laps. This is not a quaint little story about Jesus having an unusual evening stroll. This is a revelation of the divine identity. This is a display of absolute sovereignty over the created order. This is a direct confrontation with the pagan mind, which saw the sea as a place of chaos, monsters, and untamable gods.
The context is crucial. Jesus has just fed five thousand men, plus women and children, with a few loaves and fish. This was a messianic sign of profound significance, echoing God's provision of manna in the wilderness. The crowds, rightly understanding that a great prophet, a king, was among them, were ready to take Him by force and make Him their political king (John 6:15). But their understanding of His kingship was tragically earthbound. They wanted a king who would fill their bellies and throw off the Roman yoke. Jesus, however, is a king of an entirely different order. His kingdom is not of this world, which is precisely why it is destined to take over this world.
So, Jesus dismisses the crowds and compels His disciples to get into a boat and cross the sea. He is actively dismantling their political, revolutionary fervor. He is teaching them, and us, that His authority is not derived from popular opinion or mob rule. His authority is inherent. It is absolute. He doesn't need to be made a king; He is the King. And to demonstrate the nature of this kingship, He is about to show them that the very laws of physics are subject to His will. The wind and the waves that terrify seasoned fishermen are, to Him, nothing more than a sidewalk. This event is a Christological declaration of war. It answers the question the disciples asked in a previous storm: "What sort of man is this, that even winds and sea obey him?" (Matthew 8:27). The answer roaring back from the tempest is this: He is the God who gathers the winds in His fists and has measured the waters in the hollow of His hand.
The Text
Immediately He made the disciples get into the boat and go ahead of Him to the other side, while He sent the crowds away. And after He had sent the crowds away, He went up on the mountain by Himself to pray; and when it was evening, He was there alone. But the boat was already many stadia away from the land, being battered by the waves; for the wind was against them. And in the fourth watch of the night He came to them, walking on the sea. Now when the disciples saw Him walking on the sea, they were terrified, and said, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.”
And Peter answered and said to Him, “Lord, if it is You, command me to come to You on the water.” And He said, “Come!” And getting out of the boat, Peter walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But seeing the wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, saying, “Lord, save me!” And immediately Jesus stretched out His hand and took hold of him, and said to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” And when they got into the boat, the wind stopped. And those who were in the boat worshiped Him, saying, “You are truly God’s Son!”
And when they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret. And when the men of that place recognized Him, they sent word into all that surrounding district and brought to Him all who were sick; and they were pleading with Him that they might just touch the fringe of His garment; and as many as touched it were cured.
(Matthew 14:22-36 LSB)
Sovereign Dismissal and Solitary Prayer (vv. 22-24)
The scene opens with an exercise of Christ's authority.
"Immediately He made the disciples get into the boat and go ahead of Him to the other side, while He sent the crowds away. And after He had sent the crowds away, He went up on the mountain by Himself to pray; and when it was evening, He was there alone." (Matthew 14:22-23)
The word "made" is a strong one. He compelled them, constrained them. The disciples, caught up in the messianic excitement, likely did not want to leave. But Jesus is the one in command. He is orchestrating events. He sends the disciples into the storm, and He does it for their own good. He is their teacher, and this is a divine object lesson. He then dismisses the crowds, demonstrating His authority not just over His inner circle, but over the masses. He will not be a king on their terms.
Having established order, He retreats to the mountain to pray. This is a consistent pattern in the life of our Lord. After great outpourings of power and ministry, He withdraws for communion with His Father. This is a profound mystery. The eternal Son, who is one with the Father, prays to the Father in His incarnation. This is not for show. It is a genuine expression of His dependent humanity and His perfect fellowship within the Trinity. If the sinless Son of God needed to withdraw for solitary prayer, how much more do we, who are leaky vessels at best?
Meanwhile, the disciples are in trouble. Verse 24 tells us the boat was far from land, "battered by the waves; for the wind was against them." This was not just a minor squall. They were making no headway. They were in peril. And notice, Jesus sent them there. He knew the storm was coming. This is a crucial point for us. Sometimes, the storms we face are not a result of our disobedience, but rather a direct result of our obedience. Jesus puts us in the boat and sends us into the contrary winds. He does this to test our faith, to reveal our weakness, and to display His glory and power in our deliverance.
The Terrifying Theophany (vv. 25-27)
The climax of the disciples' trial comes in the darkest hour.
"And in the fourth watch of the night He came to them, walking on the sea. Now when the disciples saw Him walking on the sea, they were terrified, and said, 'It is a ghost!' And they cried out in fear." (Matthew 14:25-26 LSB)
The fourth watch was from 3 a.m. to 6 a.m., the deepest part of the night, when they were exhausted from rowing and at their wits' end. It is often in our darkest, most desperate hour that the Lord chooses to reveal Himself. And how does He come? He comes "walking on the sea." We must not domesticate this. This is a divine prerogative. The Old Testament is clear on this point. Job declares of God, "who alone stretches out the heavens and treads on the waves of the sea" (Job 9:8). The Psalmist says of God, "Your way was in the sea, and Your path in the great waters" (Psalm 77:19). Jesus is not just doing a neat trick. He is doing what only Yahweh does. He is visibly demonstrating His deity.
And what is the disciples' response? Not relief, but terror. They think He is a ghost. Their fear is understandable. What they are seeing is impossible according to their understanding of the world. It is supernatural, and their first reaction is to assume it is malevolent. This is a picture of man's natural reaction to the raw, unveiled power of God. We are terrified. When Isaiah saw the Lord, he cried, "Woe is me! For I am lost" (Isaiah 6:5). The proper response to a true theophany is fear.
But Jesus immediately calms their fear with His word. "But immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying, 'Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.'" (v. 27). The phrase "it is I" is, in the Greek, "ego eimi." This is the same phrase used in the Greek translation of the Old Testament for God's revelation of His covenant name to Moses at the burning bush: "I AM WHO I AM" (Exodus 3:14). Jesus is not just saying, "Hey guys, it's me." He is making another profound claim to deity. He is the great I AM, the self-existent one, the Lord of the covenant, present with them in the storm. And because the I AM is with them, they have no reason to fear.
Faith and Folly on the Water (vv. 28-33)
Peter, in his characteristic boldness, responds to this revelation.
"And Peter answered and said to Him, 'Lord, if it is You, command me to come to You on the water.' And He said, 'Come!'" (Matthew 14:28-29 LSB)
This is a remarkable request. It is a mixture of audacious faith and, perhaps, a bit of impulsive folly. But notice the foundation of his request: "command me." Peter understands that the power is not in his own ability to walk on water, but in the authoritative word of Christ. He is asking for a commission. He is asking to participate in the miracle, based on the authority of Jesus' command. And Jesus grants it with a single word: "Come!" Christ's commands are enabling commands. When He tells us to do something, He provides the power to do it.
And for a moment, Peter does the impossible. He gets out of the boat and walks on the water. As long as his eyes are fixed on Jesus, the source of the command, he shares in Christ's dominion over the waves. But then, human weakness intrudes. "But seeing the wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, saying, 'Lord, save me!'" (v. 30). Peter takes his eyes off the commander and looks at the circumstances. He looks at the wind and the waves, the very things Christ is trampling underfoot. The moment he does, fear replaces faith, and he begins to sink. His faith was real, but it was small. It was enough to get him out of the boat, but not enough to keep him on the waves when the wind howled.
This is a picture of the Christian life. We are called to walk by faith, not by sight. We are called to keep our eyes on Jesus. When we look at the howling winds of our circumstances, our fears, our political anxieties, our personal troubles, we will sink. But even in his failure, Peter does the right thing. He cries out to the only one who can save him: "Lord, save me!" This is the cry of every sinner, and it is a prayer the Lord is always quick to answer. "And immediately Jesus stretched out His hand and took hold of him, and said to him, 'You of little faith, why did you doubt?'" (v. 31). The rescue is immediate. The rebuke is gentle. Jesus doesn't ask "Why did you have no faith?" but rather "Why did you doubt?" The problem was not the absence of faith, but the presence of doubt. Doubt is not the opposite of faith; it is a parasite on faith. Jesus is teaching Peter, and us, that the battle is to trust His word over and against the testimony of the wind and waves.
When they get back into the boat, the wind ceases. The storm was for their benefit, and now that the lesson is complete, the classroom is dismissed. The result is the only proper one: worship. "And those who were in the boat worshiped Him, saying, 'You are truly God’s Son!'" (v. 33). They have moved from terror to adoration. They have seen His glory, and they confess His true identity. This is the goal of every trial God sends us into: that we might see more of Christ and worship Him more truly.
The Overflowing Power of the King (vv. 34-36)
The chapter concludes with a summary of Jesus' healing ministry, which flows directly from this revelation of His divine power.
"And when they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret. And when the men of that place recognized Him, they sent word into all that surrounding district and brought to Him all who were sick; and they were pleading with Him that they might just touch the fringe of His garment; and as many as touched it were cured." (Matthew 14:34-36 LSB)
Having demonstrated His absolute power over the natural world, Matthew now shows us His power over the brokenness of the human body. The one who can command the waves can certainly command fevers and diseases to flee. His authority is total. Notice the desperate faith of the people. They don't even ask for a formal pronouncement or a grand ceremony. They believe that such is the power radiating from Him that if they can just touch the hem of His garment, they will be made well. This recalls the woman with the issue of blood (Matthew 9:20-22). And their faith is honored. "As many as touched it were cured."
This is not magic. The power is not in the threads of His robe. The power is in Him, the Son of God. The fringe of the garment was a reminder of God's commandments (Numbers 15:38-39). By touching the fringe of the garment of the one who is the fulfillment of the whole law, they are, in a sense, touching the power of God Himself. He is the king, and where the king is, there is healing, restoration, and life. His power is not stingy or limited. It overflows from Him to all who come in simple, desperate faith.
Conclusion: Christ in Our Storms
So what are we to do with this? We must first see that Jesus is who He says He is. He is the Son of God, the great I AM, the Lord of creation. The universe is not a closed system of impersonal laws. It is the personal creation of a sovereign God, and His Son can walk on water anytime He pleases. Our secular age wants a tame Jesus, a good teacher, a moral example. But the Jesus of the Bible is the Lord of the storm, and He is terrifying to the unrepentant and a glorious comfort to His people.
Second, we must understand that He is the one who sends us into our storms. The contrary winds in your life, the waves that batter your little boat, are not accidents. They are appointments. He has sent you there to teach you to distrust your own strength and to rely entirely on His. He wants you to learn to keep your eyes on Him, not on the wind.
And when you fail, when you look at the wind and begin to sink in fear and doubt, you must do what Peter did. Cry out, "Lord, save me!" His hand is always ready to save. His grace is immediate. He will catch you, and He will get you back in the boat. And when the storm is over, and it will be over, you will find yourself on your knees, worshiping Him with a deeper and truer faith than you had before. For He is truly God's Son, and He is with us in the boat, until we reach the other side.