Tag Archives: extra-biblical

Surviving the Storm

Posted by expedition44 on

One of my favorite themes of the Bible is the “Chaos Monster.” Modern readers often view the sea as a place of recreation, beauty, or adventure, but the biblical authors frequently saw it differently. To Israel, the sea represented danger, unpredictability, death, and the untamed forces that threatened God’s good creation. While Scripture certainly celebrates the majesty of the waters (Ps 104:24–26), it repeatedly employs maritime imagery to symbolize chaos, rebellion, and the hostile powers opposed to the reign of YHWH. Consequently, storms in the biblical narrative are rarely mere weather reports. They are often theological events. When the sea rages, the biblical authors invite readers to look beyond meteorology and consider deeper questions concerning divine sovereignty, human rebellion, redemption, and kingdom hope.

The ancient Near Eastern world helps illuminate this imagery. Israel’s neighbors commonly portrayed creation as emerging from divine conflict with chaotic sea powers. In the Babylonian Enuma Elish, the god Marduk establishes order by defeating the sea goddess Tiamat.^1 Similar themes appear throughout Ugaritic literature, where Baal defeats Yam, the personified sea.^2 While the Hebrew Scriptures occasionally employ comparable imagery, they radically transform it. Rather than depicting YHWH as one deity among many struggling for supremacy, the Old Testament consistently presents him as the unrivaled Creator who effortlessly rules the waters. The sea is not his rival; it is his creation (Gen 1:9–10). The chaos monster Leviathan is not a threat to God; it is merely one of his creatures (Ps 104:26). Israel’s theology therefore subverts rather than adopts ancient Near Eastern mythology. The point is not that God barely survives conflict with chaos, but that chaos itself exists under his sovereign authority.^3

This theme emerges immediately in Genesis. Contrary to popular assumptions, Genesis 1 does not describe creation ex nihilo as its primary concern. Rather, the narrative focuses upon God’s ordering of an uninhabitable world into a sacred, life-giving cosmos. The earth begins as tohu wabohu—formless and empty—while darkness covers the face of the deep (tehom) (Gen 1:2). The language intentionally evokes a world not yet functioning according to God’s design.^4 The Creator’s first actions involve establishing boundaries, separating waters, assigning functions, and bringing order out of disorder. Throughout Scripture, these primordial waters remain a symbol of forces opposed to flourishing life. Creation itself is portrayed as God’s triumph over chaos.

The Exodus deepens this imagery. Israel’s redemption begins not merely with liberation from Egypt but with passage through the sea. The waters that represented death and chaos become the very instrument through which YHWH delivers his people and judges their oppressors. The crossing of the Red Sea becomes Israel’s foundational salvation event (baptismal waters), repeatedly celebrated throughout the Old Testament as evidence of God’s supremacy over the powers of disorder.^5 The prophets and psalmists repeatedly recall the Exodus using creation language. God “divides the sea,” “crushes Rahab,” and “breaks the heads of Leviathan” (Ps 74:13–14; Isa 51:9–10). These texts are not zoological observations but theological declarations. The God who subdued chaos at creation is the same God who subdued chaos at the Exodus. (

This connection reaches one of its most profound expressions in Psalm 89. Here the psalmist celebrates YHWH’s authority over the raging sea: “You rule the raging of the sea; when its waves rise, you still them” (Ps 89:9). Immediately thereafter, he recounts God’s defeat of Rahab, the symbolic embodiment of chaos and opposition to God’s purposes (Ps 89:10). Remarkably, the psalm then transitions directly into God’s covenant with David (Ps 89:19–37). For the biblical writers, these themes belong together. God’s victory over chaos and God’s establishment of his kingdom are inseparable realities. The defeat of chaos serves the advancement of covenant purposes. The calming of the sea points toward the enthronement of the king. In biblical theology, order is never an end in itself; it exists so that God’s reign might flourish among his people.^6

These themes provide essential background for understanding one of the most famous storm narratives in Scripture: the book of Jonah. The story begins with a prophet fleeing the presence of YHWH. Yet the narrative is carefully crafted to reveal more than simple disobedience. Jonah’s movements form a repeated pattern of descent. He goes down to Joppa. He goes down into the ship. He goes down into the inner part of the vessel. Eventually he descends into the sea and then into the depths of Sheol itself (Jonah 2:2–6). The language intentionally portrays Jonah moving away from God’s life-giving presence and toward the realm of chaos and death.^7 What makes the story especially striking is its irony. Jonah, the prophet of Israel, behaves worse than everyone around him. The pagan sailors fear God more than the prophet. They pray while Jonah sleeps. They seek mercy while Jonah resists it. They display compassion while Jonah remains consumed by resentment. The storm exposes what already exists within Jonah’s heart. The external chaos reflects an internal chaos. The sea becomes a theological mirror revealing the prophet’s misplaced priorities and distorted understanding of divine mercy.^8 The narrative reaches its climax not merely when the storm ceases but when the sailors worship YHWH. The story therefore moves beyond judgment to mission. God’s sovereignty over the storm becomes a means of drawing Gentiles into worship. Long before Nineveh repents, the sailors themselves become evidence that YHWH’s redemptive purposes extend beyond Israel. The sea that threatened death becomes the setting for unexpected conversion.

Against this backdrop, the Gospel accounts of Jesus calming the storm take on extraordinary significance. Modern readers often focus on the miracle itself, but first-century audiences would have recognized something much larger occurring. In Mark 4:35–41, Jesus sleeps during a violent storm while his companions panic. The parallels to Jonah are unmistakable. Both figures sleep amid a storm. Both are awakened by terrified companions. Both become the focal point of questions concerning identity. Yet the differences are even more important than the similarities.

  • Jonah is responsible for the storm. Jesus rebukes it.
  • Jonah must be thrown into the sea to save others. Jesus commands the sea directly.
  • Jonah is a reluctant prophet fleeing God’s mission. Jesus is the faithful Son accomplishing it.

The disciples therefore ask the central question of the narrative: “Who then is this, that even the wind and sea obey him?” (Mark 4:41). The answer reaches back into Israel’s Scriptures. Throughout the Old Testament, authority over the sea belongs to YHWH alone (Job 38:8–11; Ps 65:7; 89:9; 107:23–30). Jesus does not merely perform a miracle. He acts in the very role reserved for Israel’s God.^9 Even the language employed by Mark strengthens this conclusion. Jesus “rebukes” (epetimēsen) the wind and commands the sea to be silent (Mark 4:39). The same terminology appears elsewhere when Jesus confronts demonic powers (Mark 1:25; 9:25). Many scholars have therefore observed that the storm is portrayed not simply as bad weather but as a manifestation of hostile forces opposing God’s kingdom.^10 The calming of the sea becomes an enacted parable of the Messiah’s authority over every power that threatens God’s purposes.

The theme continues in an often-overlooked passage near the conclusion of Acts. Luke devotes an astonishing amount of space to Paul’s shipwreck (Acts 27–28). At first glance, the narrative appears excessively detailed. Yet Luke’s literary artistry suggests otherwise. The voyage functions as a theological drama in which God’s purposes advance despite seemingly overwhelming opposition. As the storm intensifies, experienced sailors despair of survival. Cargo is thrown overboard. Hope disappears. Chaos once again threatens God’s people. Yet Paul emerges as the calm center of the narrative. Unlike Jonah, whose rebellion endangered everyone aboard, Paul becomes the means through which others are preserved. God’s promise ensures that every life aboard survives the storm. The narrative thus presents Paul as a faithful witness whose confidence rests not in favorable circumstances but in divine faithfulness.^11

The ending of Acts becomes especially significant when viewed through this lens. Following the shipwreck, Paul arrives in Rome and spends two years proclaiming the kingdom of God and teaching about Jesus Christ “with all boldness and without hindrance” (Acts 28:31). Chaos fails to stop the mission. The sea cannot prevent the kingdom from advancing. The storm becomes another testimony that God’s purposes move forward despite every obstacle. The biblical story ultimately culminates in Revelation’s vision of new creation. Among the most intriguing statements in the book appears in Revelation 21:1: “the sea was no more.” For modern readers who enjoy oceans and lakes, the statement can seem perplexing. Yet within the broader framework of biblical theology, the symbolism becomes clearer. Revelation does not suggest that God’s renewed creation lacks beauty or water. Rather, the sea functions as a symbol of the chaos, evil, rebellion, and death that have plagued creation since Genesis.^12 The elimination of the sea signifies the final removal of everything that opposes God’s kingdom. The story that began with chaotic waters in Genesis concludes with their ultimate defeat in Revelation.

The biblical witness therefore presents storms as far more than natural phenomena. They become theological symbols pointing toward a larger reality. Throughout Scripture, God’s people repeatedly find themselves surrounded by forces that appear overwhelming. The sea rages. The winds howl. The future seems uncertain. Yet again and again, the biblical authors direct our attention not to the size of the storm but to the One who stands above it. From Genesis to Revelation, from the Exodus to Jonah, from Galilee to Rome, the story remains remarkably consistent: chaos never gets the final word. The God who separated the waters in the beginning continues to rule them in the present and will one day eliminate every vestige of chaos in the age to come.

CONCLUSION

The goal of discipleship is not a storm-free existence but a deeper confidence in the God who stands above the storm. Perhaps the most surprising truth in all of these narratives is that God’s greatest work often takes place not after the storm has passed, but in the middle of it. The sea reveals what calm waters often conceal. Storms expose our fears, our idols, our misplaced trusts, our assumptions, and sometimes even our calling. They strip away the illusion that we were ever in control to begin with. What remains is the question every generation of believers must answer: Is God enough when the ship begins to break apart?

Most of us spend our lives trying to preserve the ship. We cling to plans, expectations, structures, ministries, careers, relationships, reputations, and dreams. We thank God for these gifts, and rightly so. Yet somewhere along the journey we can begin to trust the vessel more than the One who called us into it. Then the storm comes, and we discover that faith was never about preserving the ship. Faith was always about learning to trust the Captain. One of the most overlooked verses in Acts records that some reached shore by swimming while others arrived clinging to broken pieces of the vessel. It is hardly the triumphant ending we would have scripted. No one arrives looking impressive. No one is celebrated for keeping everything together. They simply arrive. Wet. Exhausted. Empty-handed. Alive.

That may be one of the most beautiful pictures of grace in all of Scripture.

Some readers will recognize themselves there. Perhaps the ministry survived, but not in the form you imagined. Perhaps the marriage survived, but only after years of difficulty. Perhaps the dream changed. Perhaps the career ended. Perhaps the certainty disappeared. Perhaps the ship was lost altogether. Yet somehow, by the mercy of God, you found yourself standing on a shore you never expected to reach. The testimony of Scripture is not that God’s people never lose ships. The testimony of Scripture is that God never loses his people.

The same God who hovered over the chaos waters in Genesis, who parted the sea for Israel, who pursued Jonah into the deep, who slept peacefully in the storm, and who carried Paul through the shipwreck remains faithful today. The waves may be real. The wind may be strong. The night may feel long. Yet none of these things have ever possessed the authority to overturn the purposes of God. In the end, the story of Scripture is not about chaos becoming stronger. It is about the kingdom of God advancing steadily through every storm until all chaos is finally undone. One day every raging sea will be stilled. Every storm will cease. Every tear will be wiped away. Until then, we take courage from the faithfulness of the One who rules the waters.

And if the ship should break apart before you reach the shore, do not lose heart. The God who commands the sea is fully capable of carrying his children home on the broken pieces.

If you found this article interesting and want to go deeper in this area, consider this article next: INTO THE STORM: the weird pigs passages | EXPEDITION 44

Notes: Special Thanks to Chris Riggs of the TOV community for his investment in the piece

  1. Alexander Heidel, The Babylonian Genesis, 2nd ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1951), 42.
  2. Mark S. Smith, The Ugaritic Baal Cycle, vol. 1 (Leiden: Brill, 1994), 81.
  3. John H. Walton, The Lost World of Genesis One (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2009), 24.
  4. John H. Walton, Genesis, NIVAC (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2001), 70.
  5. T. Desmond Alexander, From Eden to the New Jerusalem (Grand Rapids: Kregel, 2008), 22.
  6. Stephen G. Dempster, Dominion and Dynasty (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2003), 173.
  7. Jack M. Sasson, Jonah, AB 24B (New York: Doubleday, 1990), 116.
  8. Phyllis Trible, Rhetorical Criticism: Context, Method, and the Book of Jonah (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1994), 186.
  9. Richard Bauckham, Jesus and the God of Israel (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 186.
  10. Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of Mark (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2024), 263.
  11. David W. Pao and Eckhard J. Schnabel, Acts, ZECNT (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2016), 535.
  12. G. K. Beale, The Book of Revelation, NIGTC (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), 1042.

Jesus and Egypt

Posted by expedition44 on

In Egypt today we visited several churches, one of which was The Church of Martyrs Sergius and Bacchus in The Cave, also known as the Abu Serga Church, and is one of the oldest Coptic Christian churches in Egypt, dating back to the 4th century.[1] Tradition holds that Saints Sergius and Bacchus Church was built on the spot where the Joseph, Mary, and the infant Jesus rested at the end of their journey into Egypt.

The flight into Egypt is a story told in Matthew 2:13–23 and in New Testament apocrypha. Soon after the visit by the Magi, an angel appeared to Joseph in a dream telling him to flee to Egypt with Mary and the infant Jesus since King Herod would seek the child to kill him.

You might remember, when the Magi came in search of Jesus, they went to Herod the Great in Jerusalem to ask where to find the newborn “King of the Jews”. Herod became afraid that the child would threaten his throne and sought to kill him (2:1–8). Herod initiated the Massacre of the Innocents in hopes of killing the child (Matthew 2:16). But an angel appeared to Joseph in a dream and warned him to take Jesus and his mother into Egypt (Matthew 2:13). Both Egypt and Judea were part of the Roman Empire, linked by a coastal road known as “the way of the sea”,[2] making travel between them easy and relatively safe.

After Herod passed, Joseph was told by an angel in a dream to return to the land of Israel. However, upon hearing that Archelaus had succeeded his father as ruler of Judaea he “was afraid to go there” (Matthew 2:22), and was again warned in a dream by God “and turned aside to the region of” Galilee. This is Matthew’s explanation of why Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea but grew up in Nazareth. Herod died is 4BC, which is stated by Matthew and affirmed by Josephus. Mary and Joseph return to Judah. This is the only time the Biblical Text uses the term “Judah” as a geographical place identifying Judah and Galilee. The text indicates that they first come to Judah but them quickly relocate to Galilee after learning that Archelaus had become the new king who was known to be violent and aggressive.

As an interesting rabbit hole, the beginning and conclusion of Jesus’ parable of the minas in the Gospel of Luke, chapter 19, may refer to Archelaus’ journey to Rome. Some interpreters conclude from this that Jesus’ parables and preaching made use of events familiar to the people as examples for bringing his spiritual lessons to life. Others read the allusion as arising from later adaptations of Jesus’ parables in the oral tradition, before the parables were recorded in the gospels.

Many would deduct the flight to Egypt to fulfill a prophecy by Hosea. Matthew’s use of Hosea 11:1 has been explained in several ways. A sensus plenior approach states that the text in Hosea contains a meaning intended by God and acknowledged by Matthew, but unknown to Hosea. A typological reading interprets the fulfillment as found in the national history of Israel and the antitypical fulfillment as found in the personal history of Jesus. Matthew’s use of typological interpretation may also be seen in his use of Isaiah 7:14 and 9:1, and Jeremiah 31:15. Some have pointed out that “Hosea 11.1 points back to the Exodus, where God’s ‘first-born son’ (Ex 4:22), Israel, was delivered from slavery under the oppressive Pharaoh. Matthew sees this text also pointing forward, when Jesus, the eternal first-born Son (Rom 8:29), is delivered from the tyrant Herod and later brought out of Egypt (2:21).”[3]

The Orthodox Study Bible states that the citation of Hosea 11.1 “refers first to Israel being brought out of captivity. In the Old Testament ‘son’ can refer to the whole nation of Israel. Here Jesus fulfills this calling as the true Son of God by coming out of Egypt.[4] The Anglican scholar N. T. Wright has pointed out that “The narrative exhibits several points of contact with exodus and exile traditions where Jesus’ infancy recapitulates a new exodus and the end of exile, marking him out further as the true representative of Israel.”[5]

The Masoretic Text reads my son, whereas the Septuagint reads his sons or his children;[6] I typically prefer the Septuagint but, in this case, the Masoretic seems more accurate. The Septuagint seeks to find agreement in the plurals of Hosea 11:2 they and them. I bring this up because Luke does not recount this story, relating instead that they went to the Temple in Jerusalem, and then home to Nazareth. However, both texts can be in Harmony without Luke mentioning the flight to Egypt. A theme of Matthew is likening Jesus to Moses for a Judean audience, and the Flight into Egypt illustrates just that theme.[7]

“[Joseph’s] choice of Egypt as a place of exile … was in line with the practice of other Palestinians who feared reprisals from the government; as a neighbouring country with a sizeable Jewish population it was an obvious refuge. And his subsequent avoidance of Judea under Archelaus, and expectation of safety in Galilee, accords with the political circumstances as we know them.”[8]

We also get some strange tales in the extra biblical apocropha. Jesus tames dragons, the trees bow to Him, and the story of the two thieves that later appear on the cross with Him. [9] These stories have certainly influenced Egypt and the Coptic Orthodox Church which was established by Mark, an apostle and evangelist, during the middle of the 1st century (c. AD 42).[10] There are a number of churches and shrines such as the one I visited today marking places where the family stayed.

There is another difficulty here that I should point out. Nazareth is not mentioned in the Old Testament, or by Josephus or any other rabbinical sources.[11] In other words, the quote, “he will be called a Nazarene” is that it occurs nowhere in the Old Testament, or any other extant source. In Judges 13:5 we see a similar clause of Samson but reads “nazirite.” Did Matthew suggest Jesus was intended to have been a Nazirite? Dis the text change and eventually the area became known as Nazareth? Jesus later would not match the description of a first century Nazarite so this has left scholars scratching their heads.

Much of Matthew was likely penned in Hebrew and when you translate this back to Hebrew you find a wordplay that I think answers our difficulty. Isaiah 11:1 states that there shall come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse, and a Branch shall grow out of his roots:  the Hebrew for branch is נצר (netzer). The priestly clan of the “netzerites” possibly settled in the place which became known as Netzereth/ Nazareth. This leaves us clearly seeing that the title Nazarene alludes not so much to his town of origin as to his royal descent.

At any rate, I hope you enjoyed a venture into my mind and appreciate the way that I view history, theology, and a working through a better lens of agreement within the entire text taking into account several different textures of interpretation. I pray that it deepens your enthusiasm for the Word as it has moved me.

WORKS CITED:

  1. Sheehan, Peter (2015). Babylon of Egypt: The Archaeology of Old Cairo and the Origins of the City. Oxford University Press. pp. 35, 40. ISBN 978-977-416-731-7.
  2. Von Hagen, Victor W. The Roads that Led to Rome published by Weidenfeld & Nicolson 1967. p. 106.
  3. Ignatius Catholic Study Bible, New Testament (2010). San Francisco: Ignatius Press. p. 9. ISBN 978-1586174842
  4. The Orthodox Study Bible (2008). Nashville: Thomas Nelson. p. 1268. ISBN 978-0718003593
  5. Wright, N. T. and Michael F. Bird (2019). The New Testament in its World. London: SPCK; Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic. p. 590. ISBN 978-0310499305
  6. Brenton’s Septuagint Translation of Hosea 11, accessed 4 December 2016
  7. Harris, Stephen L., Understanding the Bible. Palo Alto: Mayfield. 1985. “Matthew” pp. 272–285
  8. France, R. T. (1981). “Scripture, Tradition and History in the Infancy Narratives of Matthew”. In France, R. T.; Wenham, David (eds.). Gospel Perspectives: Studies of History and Tradition in the Four Gospels. Vol. 2. Sheffield (UK): JSOT Press. p. 257. ISBN 0-905774-31-0.
  9. The Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew at The Gnostic Society Library, Christian Apocrypha and Early Christian Literature
  10. Meinardus, Otta Friedrich August (1999). “The Coptic Church: Its History, Traditions, Theology, and Structure.”. Two Thousand Years of Coptic Christianity. American University in Cairo Press. p. 28. ISBN 9789774247576. JSTOR j.ctt15m7f64.
  11. Perkins, P. (1996). Nazareth. In P. J. Achtemeier (Ed.), The HarperCollins Bible dictionary, pp. 741–742. San Francisco: HarperCollins. ISBN 0-06-060037-3.
  12. Galilee Archived 9 May 2006 at the Wayback Machine.