Don’t Be Afraid

Mark 4.35-41
Dr. D. William McIvor
June 22, 2003
Presbyterian Church in Sudbury

Introduction to the Morning Lesson

Near the end of last Sunday’s sermon I mentioned that the Bible’s consistent message in both Old and New Testaments is “fear not!” Have faith in God and do not be afraid no matter what. Today’s message continues that theme as we reflect on the story of Jesus stilling the storm in Mark’s Gospel.

There were many stories in the ancient mythologies of the Bible lands that depicted a storm god triumphing over raging waters and the monster of chaos. When the ancient Hebrew writers expressed this idea, they always put in terms of the one, true God triumphing over the forces of chaos represented by the sea. So when Mark tells the story, he clearly has in mind that Jesus expresses God’s power to still the raging storm.

But this isn’t just about God’s power to control nature. The story takes on a deeper significance when we realize that in the Hebrew mind the seas and the sea monsters represented not just the dark side of nature but the darkness of evil itself. So Jesus stilling the storm shows his power over all the chaos and wrong which threaten us.

Another theme in the story is that the disciples just don’t get it. Mark’s Gospel often paints the disciples in a bad light. In spite of all they see in Jesus, they don’t seem to understand who he is or have faith in him. Of course, writing the story this way also challenges readers, including us, to examine their own faith. I’m sure that most if not all of us would confess our belief that Jesus is the Son of God. But such beliefs don’t count for much if we don’t act in faith on them, trusting that God cares for us even amidst life’s many storms.

We should remember that this story of Jesus stilling the storm comes immediately after a series of parables where Jesus teaches about the kingdom of God. In fact, in the 9 verses just before the text, Jesus told two parables about seeds. The kingdom of God is like someone scattering seed. Eventually it will sprout and grow but the sower doesn’t know how. Or the kingdom of God is like the tiny mustard seed. Looking at a mustard seed we might not expect much of it. In fact, it grows into the largest shrub. The point of Jesus’ teaching seems to be that while the kingdom of God is the most powerful thing of all, it doesn’t always come or maybe seldom comes with a lot of razzle-dazzle.[1] So when Jesus chides the disciples for a lack of faith, he isn’t chiding them for not being awed at miracles. He rebukes them for not having faith in his teaching.

In other words, our faith in Jesus should not come about because he does miracles. Our faith must be based on what he taught about humility, self-sacrifice, and quiet service to the glory of God. Jesus came to die and all his teachings point to the cross. If the cross is not the basis of our faith, then Jesus is little more than a cosmic Mr. Fixit or a divine Wizard of Oz whose only purpose, like the Wizard with Dorothy, is to help us realize our heart’s desire.[2] The real Jesus is so much more. He wants to realize the desire of God’s heart in our lives.

Finally, notice one interesting phrase in the text. It says the disciples took Jesus in the boat “just as he was.” We’ll come back to that at the end. Let’s read it in Mark 4.

Mark 4.35-41 (NRSV)

On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, “Let us go across to the other side.” And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. 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?” 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. He said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” 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?”[3]

Introduction

We moderns are accustomed to daily weather reports, more or less accurate, and we know a thing or two about clouds and storms. So we read this text and tend to wonder how Jesus stilled the storm or if he really stilled the storm. But the problem with modern questions of ancient texts is that we miss the whole point. For let’s imagine that I could convince all of you that stilling the storm really happened. Or, if I took a different tack, imagine that I proved to all of you there was some rational, natural explanation for the phenomenon. Or what if I got you all comfortable with the story being just a pious legend — spiritually edifying no doubt, but not meant to be taken literally and having no basis in reality or history?[4] What would any of these possible approaches gain us?

Not much. For of foremost importance is not whether we believe this story to be literally true or how Jesus did it. At a much deeper level, this text claims us and challenges us to believe in the God who saves. To believe in the God who says to us no matter what has happened or is happening or will happen, “Why are you afraid? Why are you afraid of anything because I am the God who saves?” In other words, this story is a promise of salvation not just for when we die but right now and it puts the question right in front of us: do we believe that in Jesus Christ the power of God saves us? Here are a couple of thoughts to help us grapple with that question.

ONE: We don’t want to go

First, we don’t really want to go. We need to admit that often we don’t want things to change or go where life takes us. We like staying where we are. It’s interesting that in the text it wasn’t the disciples’ idea to venture out on the sea. It was Jesus’ idea. He said to them, “Let us go across to the other side.” I think the disciples would have just as soon stayed where they were. Humans are mostly like that. We don’t want to go. We don’t like challenges or being uncomfortable. We don’t like new ideas. We don’t want to change. We don’t want to venture out on the sea of life.

I’ll mention just two personal examples. Back in March when I interviewed in person with members of your Pastor Nominating Committee, they spent the better part of Saturday asking me questions – good questions, hard questions, interesting questions. But the last question was this: if a call were offered to me, what would or could hinder my acceptance?

I thought of a few things but the real hindrance which went through my mind but which I didn’t express all that explicitly was this: did I want that much change? Did I want to move all the way across the country? Did I want to move so far from family? Did I want to live in an area with which I was not at all familiar? Did I want to serve a church unlike any I had served before? Did I really want to go and endure that much change?

Another example happened a few years ago. Some of you know that beginning in the fall of 2000 my wife Merrie was a Fulbright Exchange Teacher and spent the better part of ten months teaching in Spain. Once we learned that she had been selected by Fulbright, many people had a very interesting reaction. Merrie would tell people where she was going and how long she would be gone and before asking anything about her adventure, the very first thing many people said was, “What about Bill?” In other words, the very first question that popped into people’s minds was how would I cope with all the changes resulting from my wife being gone for almost a year.

Good question! Of course, Merrie and I had talked about that and we knew that the experience would change us, certainly in some good ways but also in some unknown ways. We knew that while this was obviously an adventure that had been chosen, there were some things about it that we would not choose were it possible to choose otherwise. And while we knew our separation would be temporary, God willing, there are many separations that are permanent, at least in earthly terms. Many of you have faced the loss of a spouse, a parent, a child, a best friend. All of us will face such loss and by our dying cause such loss for others. There is very little if any choice in all of this. Sometimes we can choose how to change but we have no choice about whether we will change. Change is hard and sometimes we resist it like crazy.

But change is inevitable, especially for disciples of Jesus Christ. Just like those first disciples, Jesus is always saying to us, “Let’s go to the other side.” Life for the Christian is getting into the boat with Jesus, whether we want to go or not, and venturing out on the sea of life. In fact, that is literally what being a Christian is. Being a Christian is being in a boat with Jesus on the sea of life. We don’t use the word much anymore but the main part of a sanctuary where all of you are seated right now is called the nave. It comes from the Latin word navis which means “a ship.” The word “navy” obviously comes from the same root. The church is literally a ship and it’s God’s idea that in that ship we set sail on the sea of life. Oftentimes, we would just as soon not go but that’s not our choice.

The point is that the text doesn’t present a strategy for coping with or avoiding storms — it is God who puts us on the sea of life — but it promises us salvation — God sails with us. We may not want to go or face many of the changes of life. But the text says, “That’s too bad. Life is change. Even if you don’t want to go, do you have faith in the God who saves?”

TWO: Does God care about us?

Which leads, of course, to the biggest question of our hearts: does God care about us? Stephen Crane wrote a poem:

A man said to the universe, “I exist.”

“That may be true,” said the universe,
“however that has never created in me
a sense of obligation to you.”[5]

And is that not what we most fear? Do we not fear or at least worry that when we face the raging storms of life, no one really cares for us. To put it crassly, does anyone up there care about us down here? Does God care about us?

The answer is, yes, but the text doesn’t give us that answer in a warm, fuzzy way. Jesus calms the raging storm but then he rebukes the disciples: “have you still no faith?” The question is never, does God save? The questions is always, do we believe?

Let’s put this in terms of the storms we probably most fear: our own illness and death or the illness and death of someone we love. Every time I visit someone in the hospital or talk with someone who is sick, I pray for healing, usually with that person but always afterwards. I pray for healing because the Bible tells us so to pray. Sometimes there is healing, not because of the power of my prayer but because of the power of God to save and heal. Sometimes there is not healing. Why is there not healing sometimes?

Friends, in many ways it’s a lot easier to not have faith in the God who stills the storms of life. For if God does not ever still the real storms of life, then there are no tough questions. Then we don’t have to fret about why the storm is stilled in happy ways sometimes and unhappy ways other times. If we don’t believe in the God who stills the storms, then Stephen Crane is right. The universe has no sense of obligation to us and we can just get by as best we can. Sometimes we’re lucky, sometimes not so lucky.

Jesus won’t let us off that easily. “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” The text is about faith, not miracles. Faith that Jesus loves us and is working for an ultimate good, even when waves beat around us and our boat is swamped. Faith that God has created the world and is in control of it, even when chaos seems to reign and evil seems to triumph. Faith that the Holy Spirit is giving us strength and peace, even when we’re feeling exhausted and stressed and at the end of our ropes. Faith keeps us going in spite of the depressing, disappointing, and demoralizing circumstances around us. Faith lets us face an uncertain future without fear.[6] The God who cares about us cares enough to challenge us to have faith.

Conclusion

Does this faith answer all our questions? No, it gives us more and harder questions. Does this faith keep us from problems or make them all go away? No, but it tells us that the one who holds even the power of wind and sea in his hand, sails with us.

Remember that little phrase I asked you to note: “they took [Jesus] with them in the boat, just as he was.” That gets at the heart of what this text teaches. On one level it simply means that Jesus had been already been in the boat all day while teaching the crowds on the shore. When they set sail, he didn’t have to move. He could go just as he was.

But at a deeper level that little phrase describes the challenge of having faith in Jesus. A writer name Scott Hoezee describes how humbly simple that scene was. Here’s Jesus, bobbing around in a boat, teaching parables that almost no one understood. He never taught in fancy churches. He never stood in a grand pulpit or in a sanctuary with stained glass. His church was just an old wooden fishing boat with pealing paint, rusty oarlocks, and ratty sails. He taught about seeds and birds and trees and most people probably went away scratching their heads and wondering when they were going to see some of those razzle-dazzle miracles they had heard about. But the disciples took Jesus “just as he was” and the challenge for them and the challenge for us is to look upon this humble, simple Jesus and know that in fact we are gazing upon the very face of God. The challenge was to believe in God’s kingdom despite a world so filled with storms.[7]

That’s the faith we need to help each other find and find again and when we find it we won’t be afraid. When the seas are calm and the days sunny, have faith. When the storms rage and the night is dark, have faith. And through Jesus Christ, we need not be afraid because God will be with us.

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