Welcome on this Father’s Day 2015. We know that not every Dad is a great Dad. And yet we know that some of the men in this church have committed themselves to being great Dads, and we want to give them the recognition they deserve.
According to one expert, children go through 4 stages of dealing with their fathers. In stage one, they call you da-da. In stage 2 they grow and call you Daddy. As they mature and reach stage 3 they call you Dad. Finally in stage 4 they call you collect.
A certain mother tells about her two daughters who were having a discussion about family resemblance.
“I look like Mom,” said her nine-year-old, “but I have Dad’s eyes and Dad’s lips.”
The six-year-old said, “And I look just like Dad, but I have light hair.” Then the six-year-old turned to her mother. “Mom,” she asked, “what does Dad have to do with us being born anyway?”
Her older sister jumped right in. “Don’t be stupid, Christina. Dad is the one who drove Mom to the hospital.” (1) Well, Dads serve one vital function anyway.
Hilding Halverson, a gospel musician, overheard his son one day talking to two other boys. The boys were bragging about their fathers--which Dad was more powerful.
One boy bragged, “My Dad knows the mayor of our town!”
“The other boy said, “So, my Dad knows the governor of our state!”
Halverson’s son was the last to speak and he said, “That’s nothing, my Dad knows God!” Upon hearing this Halverson quickly slipped away to his room and with tears in his eyes he prayed, “O God, I pray that my boy will always be able to say, ‘My Dad knows God!’” (2) Let’s pray that one day all the boys and girls in this church will be able to say that about their Dads, “My Dad knows God!”
Those of you who were fans of the late, great cartoonist Charles Schultz remember how Charlie Brown’s dog Snoopy was often pictured on his doghouse with his trusty typewriter. He was a would-be writer who always seemed to begin his novels with a certain phrase. Anybody remember what it was? “It was a dark and stormy night . . .” Today’s lesson from Mark’s Gospel takes place on a dark and stormy evening.
It has been suggested that the vivid details in today’s lesson indicate that the writer of Mark, who was not an immediate disciple of Jesus, must have gotten his account from one of the disciples who was an eyewitness. This was most likely Simon Peter because, according to tradition, Peter was a mentor to Mark. Let’s take a few moments to reflect on this wonderful story.
Jesus had been teaching all day. Some of you who have tried teaching know how exhausting that is. Imagine teaching to hundreds of people all day with no microphone--a daunting task, indeed. It was now evening and Jesus decides to cross over to the other side of the Sea of Galilee with his disciples. Though not stated, it may be assumed that Jesus desired to rest, away from the crowd and from teaching. This was not an easy undertaking. Verse 36 tells us there were people in other boats who wanted to remain with Jesus. When he shoved off, they tagged along. No rest for the weary.
The voyage was interrupted by a sudden storm. We read, “A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped.” A storm such as this was common on the Sea of Galilee, which was surrounded by high hills and narrow valleys that acted as wind tunnels. An evening storm was especially dangerous. And on that evening, the waves were raging so that they kept spilling over into the boat. Yes, the same boat with Jesus in it. Let’s pause again for a moment.
Sometimes in our lives we face situations that threaten to overwhelm us. Despite the fact that we are people of faith, these storms come into our lives so suddenly and with so much fury that we are not prepared for them. Storms of sickness, disease and even death; relationship issues; parenting issues; employment woes. These storms come, no matter how faithful we are in our service to God. They come no matter how perfect our attendance in church may be. They come no matter how well we know our Bible. Of course, if you really know your Bible, you already know that. In fact, we read in the first verse of the Epistle of James, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” (2-3).
Well, I don’t know about you, but whenever I am in a storm that is threatening to overwhelm me, I rarely feel joy, pure or otherwise. Joy comes when the storm has finally passed. I’m like Jesus’ disciples. You remember their reaction to the storm.
Get the picture. Jesus, exhausted from a full day of teaching, decides to take a nap in the stern of the boat. When the waves begin lashing the boat, his disciples, some of whom were professional fishermen, are so terrified that they decide to wake him.
“Teacher,” they cry, “don’t you care if we drown?”
That sounds like so many of us, doesn’t it? When we are in our storm, we, too, wonder if God still cares about us. When tossed about by the storm, we often call out to God; not out of surrender; not out of knowing that He’s there and able to deliver us, but because we feel abandoned. Our call is, “Where are you, God? Why have you abandoned me? Am I not your child?”
I love the way Pastor Ray Pritchard tells the story. He says that the disciples woke Jesus with questions that we have all asked in moments of desperation:
“Lord Jesus, don’t you care that my child is sick?
“Lord Jesus, don’t you care that my marriage is falling apart?
“Lord Jesus, don’t you care that my friends have deserted me?
“Lord Jesus, don’t you care that I have no money?
“Lord Jesus, don’t you care that I feel so alone?
“Lord Jesus, don’t you care that I want to give up?
“Lord Jesus, don’t you care that my husband has died?
“Lord Jesus, don’t you care that I lost my job?
“We have all asked [these questions] in a million ways a million times. We never question the Lord’s compassion when things are going well. But,” says Pastor Pritchard, “God’s compassion is not measured by our circumstances nor is His kindness limited to our understanding. God cares just as much when the tempest is raging as when the seas are calm and the sun is shining. His mercy is not limited to the sunlight nor to the stillness of the waves.” (3)
That is why we read in verse 39, “[Jesus] got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, ‘Quiet! Be still!’ Then the wind died down and it was completely calm.”
What an amazing statement: “Then the wind died down and it was completely calm.”
Jesus can still the storms in our life. This is the message of today’s lesson: Jesus cares and he can still the storms.
“Jesus got up,” says the writer of Mark. Thank God for that. The Lord who keeps us will not let the storms overcome us. Says the Psalmist, “He who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, He who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.” (121:3b-4). Jesus got up and rebuked--literally ordered--the wind and the waves and made them behave! At Jesus’ command, the winds and waves became completely calm.
Do you possess the Spirit of Christ? Then be calm. “Greater is He that is in you” than any force trying to overwhelm you (1 John 4:4).
He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?”
We all know what it is to be afraid, don’t we? It’s the most common of all human emotions. Of course, some of us have a higher threshold for fear than others.
One man, we’ll call him Bob, tells about a friend of his named George, an ex-Marine pilot, who wanted to show off his new twin-engine plane. George invited Bob to ride along as he put the plane through its paces. Suddenly, they were caught in a violent thunderstorm with lightning crashing all around them. Everything went black. Then they lost the radio and most of their instruments stopped working. As they were being tossed about in the sky, George, the ex-Marine pilot, said, “Uh-oh!”
Fearing the worst, Bob asked, “Good grief what’s happened now?”
George replied, “I got the hiccups.” Then George added, “Do something to scare me.” (4) Now there’s a man with a high threshold for fear.
Most of us are more like the little boy I read about. He was visiting the local zoo and somehow got separated from his parents. They were in an attraction known as the “House of Night,” where nocturnal creatures crawled and flew about. All of a sudden the exhibit was plunged into total darkness. Almost immediately, the little boy grabbed the hand of a woman standing nearby. “And who do you belong to?” she asked.
The little boy’s voice spoke in the darkness, “I’m yours till the lights come on.” (5) I can relate to that, can’t you?
Jesus said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?”
Jesus was disappointed in his disciples. Despite all his teachings, they were still ruled by the spirit of fear, not faith. “Do you still have no faith?” he asked them. The same question could be asked of each of us. After all that God’s done for us through the years, do we still have no faith? Hasn’t God come through for us before? Though they called Him “Rabbi,” meaning teacher, his disciples yet didn’t understand his teachings. And we make the same mistake. Though we call him Savior (which means Deliverer), when our back is against the wall, we despair instead of trust. We murmur instead of praise. We forget how many times he’s brought us through the storm in the past. We forget in the dark times of our lives what he’s said to us in the light.
I am always amused by how this story ends. Jesus has stilled the storm, the wind and the waves. Now, says Mark, the disciples are really terrified and ask each other, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!” Before they were terrified by the storm; now they are terrified by the knowledge that they are in the presence of One who has the power over the storm. We can appreciate that, can’t we?
In calming the storm Jesus assumed the authority that can only be exercised by God. He demonstrated his divine nature and power over nature. The disciples recognized from such authority and demonstration of power, that this was no ordinary man and so they became terrified asking, “Who is this person that even the forces of nature obey him.” The word “terrified” (from the Greek, “phobeomai”) means to have awe and refers to a reverence that overtakes people in the presence of divine power.
We should be in awe and reverence of who Christ is as well. And we ought to trust him when we face crises. He can calm the storm.
Writer Max Lucado tells of taking his young daughter, Andrea, for a walk in their neighborhood. She was about four years old at the time. The area was brand new to her. They walked down streets she’d never seen, says Lucado, and petted dogs she’d never touched. The yards were different. The kids looked older. The houses bigger. Lucado says he thought all the change might trouble her. He thought the new sights and sounds might generate anxiety.
“Are you okay” he asked.
“Sure,” she said.
“Do you know where we are?”
“No,” she answered.
“Do you know how to get home?”
“No,” she replied again.
“And you aren’t worried?” he asked.
Without slowing her pace his daughter reached up and took his hand and said, “I don’t have to know how to get home. You already do.” (6)
In the same way that a small child might have a sense of awe and reverence about her parent’s ability to do the right thing and make the right decisions, so ought we to trust God. God cares about us. God can calm the storms in our lives.
A South Carolina pastor named Ernie Nivens tells about a visit he and his family took to Niagara Falls. On their first night there they stood by the American Falls, as some of you may have done, and felt the pulsating power cascading around them.
Their next day plans included a ride on the “Maid of the Mist.” This boat headed straight for the base of the majestic falls. The closer they got, the slower they moved. Water was showering all about them and they couldn’t hear each other over the tumultuous thunder.
Suddenly they broke through the curtain of falling water into a place of peace. Behind them the water rolled from above and the sides. Ahead the falls were so close they sensed they could reach out for a touch. And yet, there was a sense of peace which Nivens decided must be like being in the eye of a hurricane. Looking up, beautifully arched over their heads, was a rainbow. The wonder of it all filled his eyes with tears. He held his breath and listened closely for he knew that at any moment some great choir would break out in Handel’s “Hallelujah Chorus.” There was peace in the midst of the storm!
Isn’t that a powerful parable of a spiritual reality? Sometimes we are caught in the thunder and power of life’s perplexities . . . it seems we can’t bear much more . . . then suddenly peace breaks in upon us. It is difficult to see rainbows from the backside of the cloud. We are encouraged simply to press on, trusting the Rainbow Maker. The Rainbow Maker never fails! Storms pass, thunder tolls over the horizon and a rainbow appears, it “hosannas” back and forth across the gray?black sky.
“Dear friend, trust God!” writes Ernie Nivens, “If you are caught in the thunder, stand in the assurance that a rainbow is coming your way. In the meantime, be a rainbow for someone else.”
A song from the 1942 Broadway musical Carousel says it beautifully: “When you walk through the storm keep your head up high and don’t be afraid of the dark . . . Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart and you’ll never walk alone. You’ll never walk alone.” (7) I don’t know what kind of storm you’re going through today, but you are not alone. The One who has power to calm the storm is with you.
1. Doc’s Daily Chuckles, http://family-safe-mail.com/lists/?p=subscribe&id=55.
2. Source Unknown.
3. http://www.keepbelieving.com/2013/02/17/dont-you-care-if-we-drown/.
4. Contributed. Source unknown.
5. Reader’s Digest, March 2009, p. 165.
6. Contributed. Source unknown.
7. Rodgers and Hammerstein (New York: Hal Leonard Music Publishing).