"Through the Storm" (Mark 4:35-41)

Mark 4:35-41

Pastor Tom Johnson, June 21, 2015

To be in a storm on the water is terrifying. The threat comes from all directions. The wind pushes and pulls. The water underneath lifts and drops. The waves crash and bang. The clouds flash and thunder. We may have felt safe before in our little boat. But now that is even failing. We can’t scoop up the water fast enough. There is more water coming in from the rain and the waves than what we can manage to throw overboard. The boat that once safely lifted us up out of the water is now slowly becoming a small pool itself. And soon—inch by inch—the boat will disappear into the dark waters. And then the water will churn and try to swallow us alive as well.

Maybe it isn’t the wind. Maybe it’s deadlines, late nights, early mornings, burdens that keep trying to knock you over. We feel tossed and abused. Maybe it is the ruthless reign of time—“Time, like an ever rolling stream, Bears all its sons away; They fly, forgotten, as a dream Dies at the opening day.” Maybe it isn’t the water. Maybe it’s the need to perform better, close more deals, to rise to a standard that seems to be set too high. The weight of it is on your chest. You feel like you cannot breathe. You wonder when you are going to be able to draw in a full and satisfying breath deep into your lungs. Maybe it isn’t the waves. Maybe it’s the verbal abuse of your adversaries beating you down. Words of criticism. Accusations of the evil one. Even our own conscience constantly assaulted by guilt and the rhythmic beatings of despair. Maybe it isn’t the clouds. Maybe it is the future that looks so menacing and dark. Maybe it is financial, medical, or emotional. Maybe it is the news of 9 brothers and sisters in Christ gathered for Bible study in Charleston, South Carolina—two of whom were graduates of a Lutheran seminary. Maybe it’s the news that ISIS is escalating the violence against Assyrian Christians in Syria and Coptic Christians in Egypt or Boco Haram’s continued targeting of young girls. When one part of the body suffers, the whole body suffers. Tragically, there seems to be many things that shroud the sun, the moon, the stars, and the blue sky with darkness without any hint of passing by.

The flash of lightning we see is not there to guide us but to blind us. The crack of thunder we hear will not call us out of the storm but further paralyze us in fear. The fear of these disciples—many of whom are professional fishermen—those who spent their lives on the water like Peter, James, and John—their fear is legitimate. We may have never put our faith in a Galilean fisherman’s boat. But whatever we have placed our faith in can be rocked violently—whether it is our well-constructed theology, our confidence in God to assure us, or promise to bear us up.

It isn’t just the boat that seems to be failing but our Savior as well. Even Jesus appears to be rocked in the stern of our failing vessels. He seems oblivious to the danger, asleep in the stern, not even aware that he too will soon be under the deadly waters. Or even worse, we don’t see an unconscious Jesus. We don’t see God at all. There is no one even to cry out to: “Wake up!” There is no shoulder to grab and shake. Like one pastor said in South Carolina (Bishop Herman Yoos), “In Psalm 130 we read ‘out of the depths do we cry unto you…’ It is out of the depth of our human sinfulness that we look not to ourselves for answers but to our crucified Lord Jesus and his outstretched arms of mercy and forgiveness.” Out of the depths of the stormy sea, the disciples cry out, “Do you not care that we are perishing?” It seems disrespectful, unfaithful, or blasphemous. But once again, Jesus leads the way when out of the depths of death on the cross he cries out and pours out his soul when he says, “My God, my God why have you forsaken me?”

 “Do you care? Do you notice our suffering? Do you even exist?”

These are the prayers of the faithful. This is the obedient response to God, our Creator, who taught us to pray, “Deliver us from evil.” It is the answer to Scripture’s challenge “to cast all your anxiety on him, because he cares for you” (1 Pet 5:7).

Jesus’ response in the boat, “Peace! Be still!” is directed to the wind, the rain, the waves, and the stormy clouds. He does not rebuke the disciples for their accusing him of not caring. He rebukes the wind and the sea. He rebukes the power of sin, evil, and death. Like the “dead calm” after the disciples’ raging storm, in Jesus we have a dead calm. We have the forgiveness of sin, the victory over evil, and the death of death. Maybe the disciples were so bold to cry out to God because they were challenging Jesus to keep his word and fulfill his promise when they began his journey—when he said to them, “Let us go across to the other side.” And that he does; he takes them to the other side through trial and danger but safely through the storm.

In thine arms I rest me; Foes who would molest me Cannot reach me here.
The the earth be shaking, Ev’ry heart be quaking, Jesus Calms my fear.
Lightnings flash And thunders crash; Yet, though sin and hell assail me,
Jesus will not fail me.

Satan, I defy thee; Death, I now decry thee; Fear, I bid thee cease.
World, thou shalt not harm me Nor thy threats alarm me While I sing of peace.
God’s great pow’r Guards ev’ry hour; Earth and all its depths adore Him,
Silent bow before Him.