Mark 4:35-41 · Jesus Calms the Storm
Walking Through A Storm
Mark 4:35-41
Sermon
by Leonard H. Budd
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Simon was in control of the boat. He was the oldest, and besides it was his boat. He had sailed the waters so often, and usually at night because that is when most of the fishing took place. The disciples pushed away from the shore, a shore still crowded with the village people. The sun had set but still cast a warm, red glow over the hillside, over the men, women and children who had come to hear Jesus and to be healed. The sun's glow worked out upon the gently moving sea. It may have been John, the youngster, who was last into the boat. His push was the final one freeing it from the gravel along the shore.

Soon a small sail was raised. Soon the noise of the crowd was gone. Soon the rocking sea quieted the men and allowed their Master to dip his head in sleep. Soon the glow of the sun was gone. Soon the stars filled the dark sky. Soon, too, the clouds came with the wind. Soon the gentle waves became a churning and dangerous sea. Simon's voice was not as steady, which quickened a sense of fear among the others. Soon Simon's voice was not even heard, nor hearable.

The dark sky seemed to dip down and touch the waves. The wind from distant Mount Hermon rushed upon the disciples as they frantically lowered the sail and bailed water from the boat's bottom. Light was present only because of the lightning. It cast momentary shadows and lighted the white edges of the waves that rushed against the side of the boat. Those lightning flashes also revealed frightened faces. Even the elder Simon's face showed the terror of the rough sea. Yet, the Master slept, still rocked by the motion of the waters. In the midst of that great danger, the Master was calm in his rest.

The Sea of Galilee is known for its sudden storms. The disciples were in the midst of one and it was greater than they had experienced. They didn't know what to do. Those fishermen of the quiet waters were now in a turbulent storm, fearful for their lives. Those experienced workmen of a calm Galilee now faced something very different. And that makes it our story, too!

At one time or another, all of us are afloat on a troubled sea. Worry. Uncertainty. Tangled troubles. Fear. We want the Master to wake up! We want him to quiet the churning waters that are all around us. We want him to solve our problems! We're seasick with worry, with pain, with tension, with fear. "Wake up, Jesus. We're in trouble. Save us!"

When was that last your cry? Life is not always like a calm sea. We are not always rested by the gentle wake. There is much that disturbs us! Each evening, the television news of our city reports sudden death. In the United States there were 23,000 murders last year. Life comes to a sudden end, with finality and brutality. That feeds our fear!

We are frightened by an unknown future in an ever-changing world. Dr. Elizabeth Tracy, a professor at Case Western Reserve University, reported on the changing family. Only 10 percent of families today are of the traditional variety, with father working, mother at home, and marriage of lifelong commitment. In this changing nation, there are 1,300 "step families" formed each day. Dr. Tracy, a teacher of social work, reported that children in step families need at least six years to adapt to the changes that have occurred in their lives! She said, "Average married persons today - because of multiple marriages - have more parents than children!" That is something new for us to handle, and its newness feeds the worry, the fear. We are afloat on a troubled sea, and we cry out for Jesus to wake up and save us!

We physically hurt! The pain, deep inside that comes upon us in the dark of the night, is fraught with worry. Our bodies are not immune to disease nor aging. Each day might bring a diagnosis we do not want to hear. Nor do we want to hear that health care costs rose twenty-two percent last year! That is a deep problem for some folks. Other people know another health worry, for they are part of the 40 million Americans who have no health insurance! The storms swirl around us.

And, we emotionally hurt! In our fast-paced world we can so easily be cut apart by the words that others speak or the prejudices that slice into great groups of people. We are not all Hollywood starlets, nor built like some Greek god. We are not all brilliant in mind nor quick in speech. We do not all make friends so rapidly, nor bond so easily. The emotional side of life can be for us the same as that storm up on the Galilee Sea. And we cry for Jesus to wake up and make things right!

Mark's gospel tells us that Jesus did just that! He spoke to the storm and it quieted. He said, "Peace. Be still." And, writes Mark, "there was a great calm." In our modern, scientific way of thinking, we do not easily understand all this. Storms upon seas are caused by wind currents, temperature differences and open spaces. A recent news article told of this climatic possibility on the Sea of Galilee, triggered by the winds coming off of Mount Hermon and moving down upon the waters. Storms just are not controlled by someone's shout off the back end of a boat. But that is the recounting that Mark gives - and Matthew (8:18) and Luke. (8:22)

Some students of the Bible and of psychology have suggested that Jesus' word to the wind and rain, giving his witness to God's care, calmed his disciples so that they could then tackle the storm! That may have been Jesus' greater power. He infused those trembling disciples with a calmness to see the storm through. I have seen that happen! I suspect you have, too!

I have seen that spirit-word of Jesus take hold of a sobbing and broken woman whose husband had just then been pronounced dead. "Peace. Be still." In ways that I cannot explain, she was empowered to move through the difficult days that his death brought. His death came so suddenly, leaving her with young children and much debt. Later, with grown children around her, she said, "I remembered Jesus' words and I figured he was talking to me."

Another person, upon learning that his employment ceased with the next paycheck, thought of the faith witness, "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want." (Psalm 23) It became his theme song through difficult days, but days that he did not walk alone. "That shepherd was, for me, Jesus," he said. "And it was Jesus who taught us not to worry about our life." Indeed, that was Jesus' word upon the hillside, "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?" (Matthew 6:25) It is a conscious shift of mental emphasis.

The ultimate teaching of Jesus - which Jesus was living out in that storm-tossed boat - was of God's good care! The birds of the air are in God's care. The little children are in God's good care. The ill, the aged, the lonely - all are in God's good care. And when the storm is heavy, even when a cross is lifted to the dark sky, it is Jesus' faith that God's good care is there. It is a conscious shift of emphasis from self to God.

I have known that in my own life. There have been times when things were dark, when it appeared I was ensnared, and when there was no tunnel to the light. Then, in the darkness, came a sense that God would see me through. I did not know how. I could not imagine how! But faith in that care has not let me down. For some here, that is your story, too. One of our hymns gives that faith. It was written by Civilla Martin on a Sunday afternoon. She was ill, bed-bound. Her husband composed the tune later that day. It is, says one book, "a hymn of comfort."

Be not dismayed what e'er betide,
God will take care of you;
Beneath his wings of love abide,
God will take care of you.

"Peace,'' said Jesus. "Be still!" But we must understand the role of the messenger as well as the message. For the disciples, the power of the peace came through Jesus' words. For the woman whose husband died, peace came through the persons who shared her grief. For that gentleman out of work it came through one close friend. For me it came through a circle of family and a few friends who shared their faith. At one time or another, each of us must be the Master's voice to someone else in a storm! It is so very comforting to hear the Master talk to the particular sea that is upsetting us. It is nice, and so calming, to hear Christ's word upon our predicament. "Be still!" The disciples were calmed by Jesus. But we also are called to share the word of faith.

Remember a later New Testament story. It was of another disciple, Paul, who spoke words of calm to a frightened man. It was not upon Lake Galilee. It was in a dark prison cell during the hell that followed a night-time earthquake in Philippi! (Acts 16:16-40) Silas and Paul were on a missionary journey, traveling over to the European mainland. They had converted the wealthy woman, Lydia. They had met a slave girl who was earning her master a great fortune by telling fortunes. The slave girl was changed by the work of Paul and Silas, which meant a recession in the economy of her owners. They had the disciples thrown into a Philippian prison. In the dark of night an earthquake broke open the prison gates and the jailer assumed all the prisoners had fled to freedom. In the turbulance of that thought he was about to take his own life. But a voice was heard from the depths of the prison, "Do not harm yourself, for we are all here." It was a word to the jailer as powerful as the words Jesus uttered to the sea. Through the voice of Paul, it was the Master's voice initiating a new life for that jailer.

Part of this spirit-ministry in the midst of the storm is that other persons reach out to touch the hurting life, the worried life, the broken life. It is called caring for one another. And it is a blessing shared through the human family. For Christians it is the expression of Christ in our humanity. For some of us this caring is in boxes of food that this day sail upon another sea on a journey to Moscow. Our caring is rooted in our Lord's faith in his Heavenly Father's caring.

Indeed, the storms of life have, for many persons, been the way by which God has opened new and blessed relationships. The dark cloud does have a silver lining! Someone should write a song about that! On one occasion, my wife and I were flying into Washington, D.C. It was one of those flights that are so common today. To get from point A to point B one must, of necessity, go through point C. Washington D.C. was point C between Cleveland and Orlando. The closer we got to Washington and the lower we flew, the evidence of humanity was all about. Ribbons of roads tied together towns and cities. Great shopping malls nested in acres of asphalt. Row after row of houses were clustered near interstate entrance ramps. And, off in the distance I saw a brilliant light shining. It was like a huge diamond set amid a small pine forest. The sunlight danced as it was reflected back to my window in the plane. As the plane circled around for the approach, those diamond lights continued to send strong beams skyward. What could be producing such brilliance and beauty amid the forest land? As the plane got lower on the approach I saw that it was a junk yard. Those diamonds set amid the pines were the mangled metal and broken glass of humanity's highway wrecks. But still, in the tangle of trouble represented in that junk yard, beauty could be discovered.

The thought crossed my sermonic mind that amid the human pain and worry and fear, with the voice of Christ speaking his faith in God's care, there is to be discovered something of value, even of beauty. Christ said, "Peace. Be still." There was great calm. The fierce sea did not destroy. Life was not lost! The faith held.

CSS Publishing Company, The Spirit's Tether, by Leonard H. Budd