By Jim Nichols

There are some unexpected stories about Jesus in the Bible. That is, stories in which we see Jesus doing unexpected acts. We see plenty of healings, teachings, and contending with the religious leaders, but in one episode (recorded by three of four gospel writers—that gets my attention), we see him sleeping. The accounts record that the disciples and Jesus were in a boat when a significant storm arose on the lake. Fearful for their safety, they expected Jesus to save them from being swamped by the waves. When they looked to him for help, they found him asleep. Let us get this straight, the Savior of the World was taking a nap.

The story continues, of course, with Jesus calming the storm and asking pointed questions of the disciples about the depth of their faith, not the water surrounding them. What is additionally compelling about the story is the demonstration of Jesus’ humanity and his need for sleep. 

The biologist side of me has always been fascinated by sleep. We pride ourselves in our abilities, our drive, our critical thinking skills, and yet sleep exposes our limits and vulnerabilities. We have no choice but to submit to it eventually. We have few truly common human experiences; we do not all marry, become parents, or go to college (for example), but sleep can overcome us all. 

Years ago, I had an older friend named John. He was a World War II veteran, and, for some reason, we were talking together about places we had slept in our lives. He said, “The best night of sleep I ever had was lying on top of the wing of a parked P-51 Mustang fighter plane on the flight line somewhere in the South Pacific. I was so tired, I could have slept anywhere, and I did.” I could not top that story.

When I was a graduate student, I visited a laboratory that studied sleep in cats. There are specific points in brains that cause sleep and wakefulness, and these experimenters had surgically implanted electric stimulators in those sites to control the sleep/wake cycles of the animals. As one would expect, if the workers kept them awake for extended periods, substantial problems developed in them physically and behaviorally. 

There are aspects of sleep that suggest theological consideration. What, exactly, is happening spiritually when we can no longer keep our eyes open? Is there any kind of purpose other than physiological that we encounter there?

Granted, both religious and non-religious individuals sleep, but it seems legitimate for us believers to look for something beyond simply biology and fascination with dreams, both wonderful and terrifying.

When we go to sleep, our lives take a dramatic turn. We meet limits that are not apparent when we are awake. For example, we are unable to defend ourselves and our physical vulnerability is clear. When we were awake, we might have overseen much, but asleep, we oversee nothing. We are not even safe. In very real ways, we are frail and weak. We were productive and now we are not.

This is not an insignificant time; we spend one-third of our lives in this state.

The Bible seems to indicate that sleep is a reminder that we are finite beings. Psalm 121 contrasts that God neither sleeps nor slumbers and, therefore, God protects us whether we recognize it or not. Is this total physical protection? I doubt that, but it is total spiritual protection. Author Tish Harrison Warren speaks of the “. . . holiness of rest and blessedness of unproductivity.”

Long ago I was taking an undergraduate academic Bible class under an instructor who was a spiritual mentor for me. Another student in class asked, “Should I feel guilty if I fall asleep in bed before I am finished praying?” The instructor responded, “I do that all the time and suspect that during prayer may be the best time to fall asleep.”

Do you ever think about death when you go to sleep? There are certainly some parallels. Sleeping involves yielding to God’s grace and abandoning our own human efforts. We are relying on God.

The Book of Common Prayer notes, “Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep.”

Jim Nichols is a retired Abilene Christian University biology professor and current hospital chaplain