In our modern Christian culture, we often sanitize God's power, reducing Him to a gentle, therapeutic figure who exists primarily to make us feel better about ourselves. But what if we've missed something crucial about the nature of our Creator? What if the God of the Bible is far more powerful—and yes, more frightening—than we've allowed ourselves to believe?
When we read about Jesus calming the storm in Mark 4:35-41, we typically rush to spiritualize it. We talk about the storms in our lives, the interpersonal conflicts, the daily struggles that Jesus can help us navigate. But what if we're missing the point entirely?
A missionary working with Laotian refugees discovered this when he tried to explain this passage. After hearing about Jesus commanding the wind and waves to be still, one of the Laotians said simply: "If Jesus calmed the wind and the waves, he is very, very powerful."
The missionary tried to redirect the conversation to metaphorical storms, but the Laotian insisted: "No, no, no. If he calmed the wind and the waves, he is very, very powerful."
Think about what actually happened in that boat. If you've ever been in a storm on water, you know the terror of waves tossing your vessel like a toy. Then suddenly—complete calm. Dead still. That's not a moment for theological reflection about life's difficulties. That's a moment of absolute awe at the raw power of the One who can command nature itself.
We've developed several ways to make God's power more palatable to our modern sensibilities:
We turn the feeding of the 5,000 into a lesson about sharing. We make healing miracles about positive thinking. We reduce the stilling of storms to psychological peace. But when we do this, we rob these accounts of their earth-shaking significance.
Even in conservative churches, we sometimes feel compelled to make the resurrection "make sense" to skeptical visitors. We present arguments and evidence—which aren't wrong—but we miss the fundamental truth: God said it happened, therefore it happened.
The prosperity gospel represents another extreme—believing in God's power but thinking we can control it through prayer formulas or positive confession. This isn't faith; it's attempted manipulation of the Almighty.
Scripture presents a God whose power is both wonderful and terrifying:
Isaiah 40:12-13 asks: "Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand and marked off the heavens with a span, enclosed the dust of the earth in a measure and weighed the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance? Who has directed the spirit of the Lord, or as his counselor has instructed him?"
The answer is nobody. This God cannot be manipulated, controlled, or reduced to our comfort level.
Yes, God is love. But His love is not the sentimental, accepting love of popular culture. This is the God who destroyed the Egyptian army to deliver Israel, who overturned tables in the temple, who called the Pharisees "whitewashed tombs" and "sons of the devil."
Our culture has convinced us that fear is always negative, but Scripture repeatedly connects the fear of the Lord with blessing:
Think about a campfire. It's beautiful, warming, and inviting—but you wouldn't let a child run straight into it. You maintain a healthy respect for its power while enjoying its benefits. This is the kind of fear we should have toward God.
Or consider extreme sports. People ski down dangerous slopes, hike narrow mountain paths, or ride roller coasters precisely because they're scary. The fear makes the experience exhilarating. Our relationship with the Almighty God should invoke that same sense of awe-inspiring adventure.
When we truly grasp God's might, our prayers change dramatically. Instead of tentative wishes ("Lord, we hope things might get better"), we pray with confidence in His ability to act ("Lord, make things better").
We stop treating God like a cosmic therapist and start approaching Him as the Creator of the universe who has the power to actually change our circumstances.
This doesn't diminish God's love—it magnifies it. A God powerful enough to destroy His enemies chose instead to send His Son to die for us. A God who could obliterate us with a thought instead offers us salvation and eternal life.
The cross becomes infinitely more meaningful when we understand that the One hanging there had the power to call down legions of angels but chose not to. That's love backed by omnipotence.
This week, challenge yourself to approach God with the proper balance of reverence and confidence. Stop trying to make Him comfortable and safe in your mind. Instead, remember that you serve the God who spoke the universe into existence, who raised Jesus from the dead, and who has the power to transform any situation you're facing.
Ask yourself these questions:
The God we serve is mighty, powerful, and yes, sometimes frightening. But He's also the God who loves us enough to save us, guide us, and transform us. When we truly grasp both His power and His love, our faith becomes an adventure worthy of the One who calms storms with a word.