Reverend
Debbie Cato
Mark 4:35-41
Fairfield
Community Church
June 23 2024
Let us pray: Holy, Holy God. We pray that our time of worship this morning will transform our lives so that we can be all that you have called us to be. O God, by your Spirit tell us what we need to hear this morning, and show us what we ought to do, to obey Jesus Christ our Savior. Amen.
Cool,
Calm & Collected!
As we continue our journey through Mark’s Gospel
this week, we find Jesus and his disciples crossing the Sea of Galilee. We don’t really know why. We don’t know if Jesus has a particular
destination in mind. We are only told
that when evening came, Jesus said to his disciples, “Let us go over to the other side.” And so, they leave the crowds behind that
had gathered to hear Jesus teach, they get into a boat, and they begin to cross
the Sea of Galilee.
The Sea of Galilee is actually a fresh water lake –
the largest freshwater lake in Israel - surrounded on all sides by mountains.
It is the lowest freshwater lake on earth at nearly 700 feet below sea level. And because of the geography of the lake, it
is prone to sudden and violent wind gusts that churn
water into giant waves with very little notice.
I’ve spent a lot of time on the coast of
the Pacific Ocean, and I’ve seen how vicious the ocean waves can get during a
storm. I’ve watched as the waves toss a
fishing boat about as if it were nothing more than a toy. It’s incredible how quickly the waves can
pick up speed and power. Maybe we can all
imagine being on a boat – in the middle of a large lake surrounded by mountains
when a violent storm suddenly strikes.
The disciples—some of them anyway—were
fishermen who made their living on this lake.
They knew the risks of these treacherous waters. The
story we are
reading is realistic. Even if we have
never been in a boat, we can feel the disciples’ terror. I imagine the wind was howling and the
water was making a loud slapping noise on the wood of the boat. Mark 4: 37 tells us that “the waves broke over the boat so that it was nearly swamped.” The boat was filling with water. It was tossing and turning on the top of the
waves. In all probability, the boat was
going to capsize. The disciples would have had to shout at one another to be
heard over the roar of the waves and the wind; frantic to gain control of the
boat. Can you sense the chaos; the fear?
Most of us
know how life can turn from sunny to stormy in the blink of an eye. Life is going along as planned and then
suddenly, we are out of control; overwhelmed.
Perhaps, we
can feel the disciple’s frustration, even anger, when they look over and see that Jesus is sound
asleep. Asleep in the midst of the
storm; the chaos. You could say he’s
cool, calm, and collected. He’s sound
asleep.
“Teacher, do you not care if we
perish?”
“Do you not care if we perish?” We thought you cared about
us. We thought you loved us. We thought we were your friends. We’ve been watching you do miracles; heal
people; drive out demons. We are about
to die, and you sleep? Don’t you care?
Their cry echoes the heartbreaking
desperation of all those prayers we pray
for ourselves and for those we love; prayers that seem to bounce back from the ceiling; or from some infinite, empty space out there. It is in this
passage that we hear echoed our own skepticism
when we plead earnestly to heaven but later say “he must have been asleep in
the boat.”
Fear. It’s a terrible thing. The primitive response of Jesus’ terrified disciples in a frail storm-tossed boat resonates in our individual lives as Christians, in our corporate life together as a congregation and in our life together as a community in Fairfield, Washington. We are afraid of the “wind and waves” that attack our fragile vessels – our lives, our churches, our cities, our nation. We fear disapproval, rejection, failure, meaning-lessness, illness, and of course, we fear death – our own death, the death of those we love, and the potential demise of the communities we cherish – including our church.[1]
Fear is
confronted in this story in Mark; but not by a sudden burst of courage or
resolve on the part of the disciples. In
the course of the storm, they never pull themselves together. They do not, at least not on their own,
discover an inner resource they did not know they had. Rather, it is Jesus who calms both them and
the storm with the power of his presence.
When they wake up Jesus, he responds immediately. He speaks 3 small words; 3 small words: “Peace!
Be still!” and there is a great calm. A great calm. “The wind died down and it was completely calm.” Imagine the stillness, the quiet, compared to
the noise and the chaos of the storm.
Peace! Be still!
Notice that Jesus never says, “There is nothing to be afraid of.” The storm on the Sea of Galilee was undoubtedly something to be very afraid of; it was deadly. So are the “wind and waves” that threaten us. Jesus asks, “Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?”
A small child wakes up in the dark of the
night, terrified at some dream that has disturbed their sleep; terrified of
some monster hiding in the bedroom closet.
Her mother rushes into the bedroom and scoops the little child into her
arms and sits in a chair. She wipes the
sweaty hair off her child’s forehead, caresses his head, rocks him gently, and
then she whispers what a thousand mothers have whispered since the beginning of
time, “Hush now, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
The truth is, there is a lot to be afraid
of. Isolation, pain, illness,
meaninglessness, rejection, losing one’s job, money problems, failure, war,
violence, and death - they are all very real.
As we grow in faith, we come to understand that even though fearsome
things are very real, they do not have the last word. They do not have ultimate power over us,
because reigning over this world of fearsome things is a God who is mightier
than they. Time and again in Scripture
the word is, “Do not be afraid.” It is the word the angels speak to the
terrified shepherds and the word spoken at the tomb when the women discover it
empty: “Do not be afraid.” Not because
there are no storms, no fierce winds or waves, but rather, because God is with
us.
Instead of saying, “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” the whole truth would be for the mother comforting her frightened child to say, “Don’t be afraid, because you are not alone.” The easy part of the truth, which every child figures out sooner or later, is that some things that frighten us are real and some are not. But the rest of the truth; the deeper truth that only faith in the God who raised Jesus Christ from the grave can teach, is that even though there are real and fearsome things in his life, they do not need to paralyze us. They need not have control over us; they need not own us; because we are not alone in the boat. Jesus is with us.[2]
The disciples
were stunned when Jesus spoke those 3 simple words and the wind and the waves
immediately obeyed and the chaos of the storm ended just as suddenly as it had
begun. “Who is this man, that even the wind and the waves obey him?” they asked one another. It wasn’t a question so much as an exclamation
of awe and wonder. Jesus even had
control over the forces of nature.
By telling us this story, Mark wants to make sure we know “who this man is” and how he shows how much God cares. Not only is Jesus God in the flesh; He is also our fellow traveler. He is in the boat with us. According to the story, it is by Jesus’ invitation that we are even in the boat.
“Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” The disciples
yell in overwhelming fear. And the
answer is yes, Jesus does care. He is with us.
He is
there in the boat; bearing the
same scars and marks of the journey that we bear. And in the midst of the most chaotic storms
of life, he says to us, “Peace. Be
Still.” Amen.
[1] Feasting on the
Word: Year B, Volume 3. Pastoral Perspective. Michael L. Lindvall. P164.
[2] Feasting on the
Word: Year B, Volume 3. Pastoral Perspective. Michael L. Lindvall. P164.
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