Mark 4:35-41

“A Three Hour Tour, A Three Hour Tour . . .”

 

Associate Pastor Doug Forsberg

June 25, 2006

 

  I have to tell you that I was really hoping that Denis and the Praise Team, would help me out this morning by playing an all time classic song.  I kept pestering them.  I even badgered them.  Alas, they kept telling me that they could not find the music to the theme song from Gilligan’s Island.  Or maybe they said that they did not want to find the music.

You’ll recall that this song told the story of a group of castaways, a millionaire, his wife, a movie star, the professor and Mary Ann, that had joined Gilligan and the captain for a sight seeing cruise.  It was only supposed to be a three hour tour . . . a three hour tour.  But then unexpectedly, the weather started getting rough and the tiny ship was tossed.  If it had not been for the fearless crew, the Minnow would have been lost.  This group had expected to enjoy a normal, uneventful three hour boat ride.  They ended up stranded on some island in San Diego harbor.  The storm just surprised them and took them off guard.

For some reason, we often expect our lives to be cozy, uneventful three hour tours on calm seas.  This is, of course, what we sign up for when we come to follow Jesus, isn’t it?  We expect that he will set a smooth course for us, so that with him on our side, we will do the things we really want to do.  We like to think that Jesus is all about taking care of what we want.  When we sign on with Jesus, we might expect a normal, uneventful ride, but in our sin stained world, normal doesn’t exist.  We discover an unsettling truth in the midst of the storms of life: Jesus is the Lord of the universe.

The Lordship of Christ over all creation is unsettling to our hearts because we want to be in charge, we want to call the shots in order to insulate ourselves from suffering and the from troubles of the world.  It is frightening when we discover that we can’t do that, yet the One who does call the shots stands with us in the midst of whatever storm we face.

 

 

One day Jesus’ disciples found themselves on the shore of the Sea of Galilee.  Jesus had been making quite a name for himself driving out evil spirits, healing the sick, and rebuking the religious authorities.  Everywhere he went huge crowds followed him and clamored for his attention.  On this day, the crowd was so large and so demanding that Jesus had to teach from a boat out in the lake so that the crowd wouldn’t crush him.  The disciples probably hadn’t been with Jesus for very long.  They knew he had chosen them, but they weren’t really sure who he was.  In fact, as we read Mark’s gospel, the only ones, up to this point in Jesus’ ministry, who know who he really is are the evil spirits, and he keeps telling them to be quiet.

As Jesus teaches this crowd of people he speaks to them in simple stories called parables.  He spends the entire day with this crowd, a crowd that was full of people who wanted to see a miracle worker, a celebrity.  People like miracle workers because they can be kept at arms length, they don’t actually make any demands of you, and they often provide entertainment in an otherwise dreary world.  Perhaps we can imagine how weary the Teacher must have been after spending the day amidst this crowd and its demands. 

As evening came, Jesus, his disciples, and the crowd were still gathered on the shore; Jesus needed to rest.  He told his disciples to take him to the other side of the lake.  He must have sat down in the boat by this time.  He didn’t even dismiss the crowd, he just left them.  Jesus’ disciples might not have known exactly who he was, but they were smart enough to do what he told them.  Crossing the lake would be no problem for these men.  After all, they were experienced fisherman.

The boats left the shore.  The waters were calm and a slight breeze was at their backs.  This trip had all of the makings of a three hour tour.  Until, that is, a great windstorm buffeted the boats and pushed water over their sides.  These fishermen, Jesus’ disciples, knew the water, and they knew they were in big trouble.  In desperation, they turned to the only person on board who could help them; a man who by trade was a carpenter.

Of course, he was more than a carpenter, and the disciples had some sense of that, so we aren’t surprised that they turn to him in their need.  What might surprise us is the way they turn to him, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?”  The disciples, who only a short time earlier had enjoyed smooth sailing, rebuke their master.  They take Jesus to task and question both his purposes and his care for their lives.  It is easy to point an accusing finger at the disciples and chastise them for their severe lack of faith during this storm.  Many draw on this account and tell us not to be like those foolish disciples.  Well duh, we all know that, but the fact of the matter is that when our nice three hour tour gets interrupted, we are exposed and our faith is always left wanting.

This isn’t a bad place to be.  If we could do it all ourselves, if our faith was perfect, we wouldn’t need Christ.  When the weakness of our faith is exposed, we can fall on our knees and cry out to Jesus, “Save me.”  That’s what the Gospel is all about.  Notice that before calming the storm Jesus does not rebuke his disciples.  He doesn’t say, “How dare you speak to me that way?”  Instead, he takes a moment to wake up, rebukes the wind, and says, “Be still,” to the waves.  Jesus answers the disciples’ question, “Don’t you care . . .,” through his actions, for indeed, he cares, and he shows his care by quieting the storm.

Once the wind and sea become completely calm, Jesus says to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid?  Do you still have no faith?”  We might have expected Jesus to say this upon being woken up and challenged.  Indeed, many read the account in this manner saying that Jesus is referring back to the disciples’ original question.  But this is an incorrect reading and understanding of Jesus and what happened on the boat. 

The storm is over, Jesus has commanded it to cease and it has.  The disciples aren’t afraid of the storm anymore.  They’re afraid of Jesus, and when he asks them if they still have no faith, he’s really asking them if, having seeing his rule over nature, they are willing to believe that he is Lord.  The storm had a purpose in the disciples’ lives; it exposed them to their own weakness and to the reality of Jesus’ Lordship and power.  As the disciples continued to experience what we can only refer to as holy terror, they ask each other, “Who is this?”  Who is this?

It’s an unsettling question isn’t it?  “Who is Jesus?”  Truth be told, it’s the question that Mark’s Gospel is trying to answer.  We who are quick to make sure that Jesus fits into our image should be challenged by this question.  The disciples were terrified; their minds and hearts raced trying to comprehend just who Jesus was and what he was doing in their lives.  Their terror was a mixture of fear and reverent awe.

Perhaps you yourself know this kind of holy terror, for you find yourself in a situation or circumstance in which you have been forced, or will be forced, to cry out to Jesus in your weakness and discover again that he reigns.  How easy it is to come to a place where our faith doesn’t seem to be as strong as we thought it was: a loved one dies, a relationship sours, a child strays far away or temptation knocks at the door and leaves you helpless.

One writer describes the feelings we have in these situations in this way, “Whatever the cause, you’re standing on the edge of a sinkhole that has opened before you, into which everything dear and familiar slides: your job, your health, your family, your security, your reputation, your career.  The entire structure of your life is about to slip into the chasm.  And you can’t go back to the way things were.”[1]

As the disciples on that boat faced their storm, they saw their lives slipping into the deep chasm of the sea.  Perhaps you’ve been there too, or maybe you’re there now.  The only thing you can do is to cry out to Jesus, “Teacher, don’t you care that I am perishing?”  When you cry out to him, he will respond saying, “Peace! Be still.”  He won’t be saying “Peace,” because of your great faith.  He’ll be saying “Be still,” because he is able to bring stillness to chaos and because he’s seeking to strengthen your faith. 

Sometimes, as in the account we are considering today, the Lord acts to bring an end to the storm we face: a disease is healed, a relationship is restored, a child comes home.  Other times our external circumstances will not change, for physical healing may not be found, a job may still be lost, and a reputation may still be destroyed, but in the midst of this struggle, Jesus will be standing with you saying, “Peace.  Be still.”

When our circumstances don’t change it is difficult to reconcile our hope with what we perceive to be God’s lack of action.  Romans 8:28 reminds us that, “ . . . in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”  Such a verse of hope can be trite when offered as an excuse for the pain that someone is experiencing.  But the promise contained in the verse is freeing for those who know that Jesus is in the storm with them.  Remember that the disciples followed Jesus into that storm and that they turned to him even though their faith was weak and in so doing they saw Jesus as he really was and is. 

We can do the same thing, and when we do, we will bow down in terror and reverent awe, for we will see clearly the ways in which we have sought to control Jesus and manipulate him to achieve our own ends.  We will also clearly see the power of the living God at work: the same power that willingly hung on the cross, the same power that paid the price for our sin, the same power that defeated death so that we would know life and life abundant. 

He wants you to follow him as he is.  He wants you to believe that he will bring you through the one reality we all run from: death.  He is building up your faith not through pleasant three hour tours but through struggle and even suffering. 

Friends, Jesus is not safe, but he is good, and he is seeking what is best for you.  His disciples needed to experience this storm in order to begin to grasp who Jesus was.  Whatever storm you are suffering is an opportunity for you to see who Jesus is and to allow him to shape your life and strengthen your faith, joining with the Psalmist when he says, “In my anguish I cried to the LORD, and he answered by setting me free.  The LORD is with me; I will not be afraid.”

 

Jesus is the Lord of the universe.  Will you trust him with your life?

 

May it be Lord.  May it be.



[1] Larry Libby, “Prayers From the Edge,” The Discipleship Journal, Issue 153, May/June 2006, p.26.