On June 23rd, I had the gift of preaching at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church in Aiken. They have three services; here’s the link to the 11am. Thanks to the fine folks in Aiken for their hospitality!
The gospel starts about 17:35, with the sermon just after.
Mark 4:35-41
35 When evening had come, [Jesus said to the disciples,] “Let us go across to the other side.” 36 And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. 37 A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. 38 But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” 39 He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. 40 He said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” 41 And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?”
I love the disciples. They get a bad reputation for not understanding what’s going on sometimes, but I think that’s what makes them relatable.
Take this boat incident, for example. It’s been a long day. Jesus has told lots of parables about seeds and plants, and probably healed a few people, too. As the sky darkens and the day ends, Jesus tells his trusty crew of fishermen and other disciples that it’s time to head out across the lake. So they do.
As many a good preacher does after a sermon, Jesus takes a nap.
While he rests on that pillow, a storm blows up. A Great storm, the Bible says. And it must have been something, because these experienced fishermen are convinced that they are going to die.
Can you picture it? The wind is blowing, the rain is pouring, Jude and James are bailing water out by the bucket, and they wake Jesus up from his rest. “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” And he gets up, and tells the wind to Hush and the sea to Calm Down. And they do it.
Then, Jesus turns to the disciples. They’ve seen him cast out demons. They’ve seen him teach with the very authority of God. They’ve seen him heal the sick and injured. But they thought he was about to let them die in a storm. Ha. “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”
And this is the part that gets me. They don’t respond. How would you respond to that? Instead they look at each other in wonder and say, “WHO IS THIS GUY?” The Greek actually says that they are filled with Great Fear, like the Great Storm that they have been in.
There are two ways we could take this question, of course. The first is that they are genuinely confused. They know that only God can set the limits of the sea. Only the one who created the waters in the first place can tell them to Settle Down Now. And Jesus has done it. They don’t know what to do with this information. As one of my seminary professors used to say, they don’t have a file for that.
The second option is that the disciples aren’t confused. They get it, at least for a minute. They understand that Jesus, the man in the boat with them right that second, is God Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth. And that realization is what scares them so badly.
To be in holy fear of God seems like a normal reaction. When Isaiah saw the hem of God’s robe fill the temple, he was terrified. Woe is Me, he cried, for I am a man of unclean lips and I come from a people of unclean lips. Moses was worthy only to see God’s backside for a split second and he glowed with God’s glory. Imagine what it must be like for these men to realize that they have been eating breakfast with and walking next to the Lord. That’s a lot to process.
God, the Lord of all that is, was a man in a boat with the power to tell the sea what to do. God, the Lord of all that is and was and evermore shall be, chooses to be in the boat with us, his creations.
There are lots of ways we could talk about storms in our lives and in our world. We could describe the haze of gunfire and powerlessness of civilians in a war zone. We could think about diseases, hunger, our human ability to separate ourselves from one another in a thousand painful ways. We could think about the personal storms we have weathered—illnesses and injuries, the ending of relationships, the uncertainty of having a million options and not knowing how to choose. We could think, even, of the church in a culture that’s shifting and not giving it the prominence church used to have. There are lots of ways that we can get overwhelmed on the shifting seas of life.
What would it mean for us to realize that in our storms, Jesus is there in the boat with us, so relaxed that he’s fallen asleep? How much confidence would we have if we knew we could just reach over, wake Jesus up, and let him take care of it?
I’m not saying that every time we pray about a situation, Jesus is going to speak a word and handle it for us. That isn’t how God chooses to work, most of the time. If we expect that, we are going to be frustrated.
What I’m saying is that we are never alone in the storm. We are never the only one waiting for the one we love to get their life together or to see what we see in them. We are never the only one praying and working for peace. We are never the only one walking into that hard conversation. We are never the only one speaking up for justice or telling a new story.
God might work a miracle, speak a word, and take care of things. It’s more likely, though, that God will send the right person at the right moment, that God will open up a new viewpoint, that God will give us patience while we wait or a glimpse of joy in the middle of our grief.
Look at where Jesus is in the middle of this huge, terrible storm. Jesus is resting. Jesus isn’t worried about it. Jesus doesn’t get worried about the storm. He knows that in the end of every storm, there is peace. God wins. We win.
Look at those poor disciples, standing there, wet as mad hens, jaws open, putting together for the first time that Jesus is the Christ. Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?
Don’t you know who I am? Jesus says. Don’t you know that I’m here? Don’t you see that I have all things under control?
And for all that we might think that Jesus is scolding the disciples, look at how this story ends. The boats come to the shore and they continue their adventures. They continue learning, walking together, growing in faith, making mistakes, being forgiven, and moving forward. They walk with Jesus all the way to the cross. After he rises from the dead, these are the people who will start carrying God’s good news across all the oceans, rivers, and lands.
The story doesn’t end with Jesus abandoning them. The story ends with them taking Jesus’ message everywhere. They figured out who this Jesus guy is. Because of them, and many others like them, we have also met him and can talk about it.
In our storms, we can reach out for Jesus. He’s waiting for us to realize that he has everything under control. He’s right there, full of love, hope, compassion, and forgiveness.
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