Master the Tempest Is Raging – Mary Ann Baker

Mary Ann Baker had a story incubating deep inside her as she struggled emotionally and spiritually. Why had tragedy happened? How could a loving God do such a thing? It’s not fair! Why must I hurt this way? These were the vocalized feelings one might have heard her shout in 1874 in the wake, a literal wake, of her heartbreak. It’s probably not unfamiliar to you if you’ve lost someone whose life wasn’t supposed to be over yet. If that is so – and who hasn’t gone through this? – then listen to how Mary Ann Baker dealt with this body blow, this storm (see painting by Rembrandt).

When Mary was 42 she suffered the loss of her brother – her only brother – to a disease that had also stolen her mother and father from her. She had grown up in Illinois and lived in Chicago, giving of herself in the temperance (alcohol prohibition) movement. So, it can be assumed that she rated purity, trying to live a ‘right life’ before God, high on her personal to-do list. So, when she was sick and could not go to be with him as his health became critical, one can imagine her heart searching for meaning. Her dear brother, a man she felt was precious and unique in character and potential, was gone. It was then that she rebelled in spirit, denying that the God she had obeyed since childhood was compassionate.  But, in that period of angst, she says that He responded, becoming the God of peace. In her recovery, Baker recalls that her associate, Horatio Palmer, asked her to compose the words for songs that would address the theme of “Christ Stilling the Tempest”, which was the subject of Sunday school lessons being taught in the church. The rest, as they say, is history. Her personal trial, a tempest, did have meaning after all. In fact, this trial added depth and purity to her faith, she declares.     

Mary Ann Baker must have gone through stages in her storm, according to the three verses she recorded for her fellow believers. And, perhaps they are words for others too, for those who want answers but have no one to ask. Baker’s verses tell me that it’s normal to question Him (verse 1), to remind Him that I have the capacity to doubt when I’m buffeted by events that grimly taunt me. Perhaps that’s what I need, really, to grip His hand even tighter. I could give in and sink outta sight (verse 2), but even then it’s not too late to call out to Him. Verse 3 tells me that endurance will be rewarded. I’m glad she used the familiar example of the Apostles – those closest to the Master – on the Sea of Galilee to tell me how a storm might catch me unawares. It won’t matter how much I’ve done to curry His favor, or how much I think I’ve served Him. I’ll likely go through these phases when something punches me in the gut. Those sucker punches are the only ones the Enemy throws, although he might begin with gentle, pleasant caresses. Isn’t it strange how the Devil and the Lord seem to operate from different ends of the pain spectrum? One might stroke me to win my confidence, and then later knock me flat.  Conversely, hurts that seize me ultimately chase me toward Him, the Comforter. Now, where do you think He’s waiting…on the comfy couch, or in the life raft?        

The source for Baker’s song story is: http://www.hymntime.com/tch/htm/m/a/s/mastertt.htm