Storm Warning
Mark 4:35-41
My college
roommate’s name was Andy. I may have mentioned him before. He majored in
accounting, but he didn’t want to be an accountant. He wanted to be a pilot, but his father who
was paying for his education said accounting was safer. So Andy went to
accounting class. But, after class, he
went flying. He needed to accumulate
airtime for his various certifications so he would just pick out an airport on
the map and fly to it and then come back.
That’s where I came in.
Andy wanted company on these trips so he would invite me to fly
along. Sometimes, when I wasn’t doing
anything in particular, I would go.
Since we were young and immortal somewhere along this carefully planned
route Andy would get bored with flying level at 5,000 feet. To break up the monotony, he would put the
plane on a roller coaster ride that would rival anything you’ll find at King’s
Dominion.
Andy had
fancy aeronautical terms for these aerobatics.
He called them “Shondells,” and “Hammerhead Stalls,” and such. I had a different name for these
maneuvers. I called them “panic
attacks.” But, I was 19 and not about to
admit that I was afraid of anything. So,
I would hold on tight, close my eyes, and weigh my fear against my faith in
Andy’s ability.
Most of
the time my faith in Andy held, but every once in a while when the engine was
screaming and the earth was filling our windshield, fear would prevail, and I
would yell out with every fiber in my being, “Andy, pull up!” I always felt bad when I did that, when fear
triumphed. I don’t know why, maybe it
was hearing Andy’s sly snicker, but somehow it felt like failure.
Chuck
Swindoll described a similar experience while flying and landing in a blanket
of fog:
Fear—the phantom giant.
Drifting in through cracks in the floor boards or filtering down like a
chilling mist, the fog called “Fear” whispers omens of the unknown and the
unseen. Surrounding individuals with its
blinding, billowy robe, the creature hisses, “What if...what if...” One blast of its awful breath transforms
saints into atheists, reversing a person’s entire mind-set. Its bite releases a paralyzing venom in its
victim, and it isn’t long before doubts begin to dull the vision.[1]
Our story
from the Gospel of Mark is about the polarity between faith and fear. It is about people like you and me who find
themselves tossed about by forces beyond their control. It seeks an answer to the question, “How deep
is my faith?” Before we set course on
these troubled waters, let us pray:
Lord, you
have said, “perfect loves casts out all fear”.[2] So, we yearn for that love, because we struggle with the
fears that come from living in an uncertain world. There are so many unknowns and too many
questions. We yearn for the peace that
comes when you still the storm.
Still the
storms within our souls, we pray, that we may leave the troubled waters
behind. This we ask in the name of the
One who has that power, Jesus Christ.
Amen.
The Sea of
Galilee is only eight miles wide and 13 miles long, but it sits in a basin
between high hills. Sometimes the warm,
moist air of the Mediterranean clashes with cooler air that funnels down from
Lebanon. Violent storms erupt and turn
the lake into a washing machine.
The day
described in the fourth chapter of Mark was evidently one of those days. “On that day, when evening had come, Jesus
said to them, ‘Let us go across to the other side...’ And a great storm of wind
arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already
filling. But, Jesus was in the stern,
asleep on the cushion”.[3]
For a time
Jesus remained asleep because Peter and Andrew and a few of the others were
fisherman were well acquainted with the lake.
It was where they made their living.
They had weathered rough water before so they didn’t think they needed
any help. The strength of their arms,
the wisdom of their own experience had brought them through white-capped waves
before. So, they let Jesus sleep while
they relied upon themselves.
That set a
pattern that has been followed over the years by many a disciple of Jesus
Christ. Upon peaceful waters we do tend
to rely upon ourselves and let God remain asleep. God is not sleeping, of course. We just treat
him that way. Days and days can go by
and we give God no more thought than we would a sparrow fluttering in a
tree. We may have some awareness through
some inner sense within us that God is here, but in all honesty we really pay
no attention.
It is like
the story told by an adventurer Harry Pidgeon.
He had circled the globe in a small sailboat. Once, during an interview, he asked the
interviewer, “Do you know the most dangerous thing a man sailing alone has to
face?” The interviewer responded, “I
suppose storms and rocks.”
“You’re
wrong” Pigeon said. “It wasn’t storms I was afraid of, but the clear, calm
weather when a good breeze was blowing.
In a gale when a man goes on deck, he holds fast to something, for he
knows he might fall overboard; but in fair weather he’s apt to walk around the
deck without thinking. Then, a little
roll of the boat can throw him overboard; and he is lost.”[4]
For many
of us that is the story of our lives.
We’re just wandering around the deck of the boat admiring the blues
skies and the white billowy clouds when suddenly the wind shifts and we find
ourselves in a situation that is over our heads. The roll of the boat can come upon us through
a doctor’s diagnosis, or a pink slip in an envelope, or by the bitter words, “I
don’t love you anymore.” From whatever
direction the storm blows, when the waves begin to fill our boat, we all look
upward and cry out “God, wake up! I need
you now!” So, God becomes for us a life
preserver that we frantically search for when the waves crash over the bow.
One
preacher put it this way, “Fear leads to despair that God does not care!”[5] In the midst of the storm, when things aren’t working out
many of us come to that same conclusion: God doesn’t seem to care.
A while
back two prominent movie stars died in separate alcohol related accidents. William Holden died in a drunken fall,
hitting his head on a table. Natalie
Wood drowned when, after drinking, she fell off of her yacht and into the
ocean. A friend who was close to both of
them, actress Stephanie Powers, was quoted in the newspapers as saying, “Two of
my best friends are gone; how can a God who is supposed to be kind and loving
allow this to happen?” [6]
In grief
and perhaps in fear, this actress came to the same conclusion that even Jesus’
disciples had come to. God doesn’t
care. If God did care, the seas would
always be calm, and God would protect us even when we are drunk or act
foolishly. But, there are no storm-less
seas, and good sailors know they must expect them. As Jesus said, “It rains on the just and the
unjust”.[7] It flat out rains
on everyone.
An old
Quaker once stood up in a Friends meeting and told the congregation about a
young man he knew. “This young man”, he
said, “lived a very undisciplined life and did not believe in the truths of the
faith. One day he asked a pious Quaker
friend to go sailing. A sudden storm
came up and the undisciplined and unbelieving youth was drowned.”
Having
said this, the old Quaker sat down. He
had obviously made his point about where undisciplined and irreligious living
will lead. But after few minutes, he
stood up again and said to the meeting: “Friends, for the honor of the truth, I
think I ought to add that the Quaker was also drowned.”[8]
The
reality of life is that Jesus doesn’t always stand up in the boat and calm the
storm. But, in this case he did, and we
can learn something from that.
Jesus
responds to the disciple’s pleas in two ways.
First, he stills the storm. Jesus
calls out, “Peace! Be still!” and the
“wind ceased and there was a great calm”.
Second, Jesus turns to the disciples who are still gaping at the
audacity Jesus showed at giving a command to the weather and at Jesus’ ability
to change what everyone else can only complain about. Then Jesus asks, “Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?”
From that brief encounter we learn two things. First, Christ is sovereign and in
control. Second, there is a polarity
between fear and faith that each of us must wrestle with.
Jesus is
Lord. Mark had already told us that
Jesus is Lord of the Sabbath and has the authority even over the Law of God.[9] Mark had shown us
that Jesus has power even over the devil.[10] Now Mark reveals
that Jesus is Lord even of creation itself.
The calming of the storm has to do with Jesus’ announcement that “our
God reigns.” Jesus was so confident of
that truth that he could fall asleep in the middle of the storm.
Faith
begins and ends with this understanding.
God is sovereign—God is in control.
We may not know what the future holds, but we believe that God holds the
future in the palm of His hand. We
believe God’s love is perfect and the Bible says, “Perfect love casts out all
fear”.[11]
That’s why
Jesus was troubled by the disciple’s seemingly quite natural fear. For when the waves were once again gently
lapping at the boat, Jesus turned to his friends and asked, “Why are you
afraid, have you no faith?”
This is a
tough question, because fear is an instinctive response and can be a good
thing. It keeps us alive sometimes.
I remember
years ago, walking along the Appalachian Trail on a beautiful summer’s
day. Lost in thought, I was listening to
the birds sing and watching puffy clouds laze against an azure sky, when
suddenly out of the corner of my eye I saw that I was about to step on the
biggest blackest snake I’d ever seen.
Fear instantly kicked in and pumped enough adrenalin into my blood to
enable me to jump at least twenty-five feet straight up in the air. There are dangerous things we are supposed to
be afraid of.
A great storm would seem to fit into that category, so
maybe it was not fear of the wind that Jesus referred to. Maybe it was something else. Maybe it was a fear that God wasn’t there or
doesn’t care and that’s why Jesus just kept sleeping while the waves washed
over the bow? Maybe they were afraid
that Jesus was not who they thought he was.
If that’s
the case Jesus question, “Why are you afraid, have you no faith”, makes perfect
sense. Each one of must weigh our faith against our fear. Each one of us must struggle against the fear
that leads to despair that God isn’t there or doesn’t care.
Mark Twain
put it this way. “The difference between
what you believe and what you almost believe is the difference between the
lightning and the lightning bug.”
This story
of troubled waters follows a parable that Jesus told of different kinds of
faith. You may know the story. A sower went out to sow. Seed landed on different kinds of soil: hard,
rocky, weed-infested, and good. The
seed that fell on the hard ground never takes root. The seed that falls on the rocky soil takes
root, but the soil is shallow. The seed
that falls on the weed-infested soil takes roots but is choked out by worldly
concerns.
Finally,
seed lands on the good soil, takes root, grows, and bears fruit. Now, I am sure that when Jesus’ disciples heard
this story, they were thinking, “Thank God, I’m the good soil.”
They had
followed Jesus, listened to Jesus, and seen him perform miracles. They had to be thinking that they were the
good guys in this parable.
Then they
get in a boat, and the wind kicks up, and water starts to fill the boat. Now, they’re not so sure. Maybe their faith isn’t so deep after
all. Remember what Chuck Swindoll said,
“Fear transforms saints into atheists”
and I think sometimes atheists to saints.
The
mystery of faith, though, is that we will be tested. The Apostle Paul endured literal storms at
sea that resulted in at least four shipwrecks.[12] Yet he wrote:
We have this treasure in earthen vessels, to show that the
transcendent power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not
crushed; perplexed but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken;
struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus,
so that the life of Jesus may also be shown in us.” [13]
William
Barclay in his book entitled, A Spiritual Autobiography, describes his
view of this story. He writes, “The
storms Jesus stills are in the hearts of men, so that, no matter what tempest
of trouble or pain or sorrow may blow upon life, with him there is calm.” For Barclay, these words—this faith—was
tested the day his twenty-one year old daughter and her fiancée were both
drowned in a yachting accident. Of that
day, Barclay said, “God did not stop that accident at sea, but he did still the
storm in my own heart, so that somehow my wife and I came through that terrible
time still standing on our own two feet”.[14]
God stills
storms even today. If your soul is in
troubled waters, God will stand by you and still those waters and bring you to
safe harbor. The vessel that will carry
you is faith. And that vessel, leaky at
times, rudderless on occasion, will hold you as you hold onto it. For God has promised to stand by you.
Let us pray:
Lord, long
ago you said, “Let not your hearts be troubled and neither let them be afraid.”[15] But, we live in a
scary world with dangers lurking around every corner and blazoned on every
headline, and there are people here today who feel tossed about as in a great
storm. Still those winds we pray and
calm those seas and give us the strength to hang on until they do. Amen.
[1] Swindoll, Chuck, Killing Giants, Pulling Thorns.
Multnomah Press. Pg 15.
[2] 1 John
4:18
[3] Mark
4:35-38
[4] Our Daily Bread, August 12, 1983.
[7] Matthew
5:45
[9] Mark
2:27
[10] Mark
3:22
[11] 1 John
4:18
[12] Corinthians.11:25, Acts 27:39.
[13] II
Corinthians 4:7-10
[14] pg 45.
[15] John
14:1
No comments:
Post a Comment