Reflection on Mark 4:35-41

 

My youth ministry professor leaned forward, hands on the desk in the front of the classroom, looked us all straight in the eye and said, “Never forget, especially in youth ministry, that some people’s rain storms are other people’s hurricanes.”  He said it again, slowly, for emphasis, “Some people’s rain storms are other people’s hurricanes.” 

It is true.  Just weeks later, my own pastor left in the middle of a meeting at the church when he had received a phone call that a youth in the congregation had just broken up with her boyfriend, and she was contemplating ending her life.  After the pastor left the room, a couple of people in the meeting questioned the importance of leaving an official meeting of the church to deal with the heartbreak that comes when puppy love is over.  And, as they talked the words of my youth ministry professor came back to me, “Some people’s rain storms are other people’s hurricanes.”

I think of my young cousin, years ago, who started flipping out when the boat we were in started rocking back and forth in the waves.  “We’re going to sink!” he cried and hid his face.  The waves and rocking were actually being generated by the other cousins behind him in the boat.  They may have even thrown some water over his head for effect.  And, by “they” I mean to say it definitely was maybe not me and my brother helping in the torment. 

Of course, we knew that the boat was fine.  At that point we were expert boaters…on calm waters; but my younger cousin did not know that the boat was fine.  It was his first time in a boat!  “Some people’s rain storms are other people’s hurricanes.”

Then there are the times when other people’s hurricanes are everyone’s hurricanes.  Take the disciples for example.  As they set off across the lake along with some other boats, a great storm arose on the sea and fear set in. 

This is no little thing.  These disciples are the expert boaters in troubled waters.  They know how to set the boat into the waves.  They know how to recover from the swells.  They know how to preserve the sails.  So when the waters begin to beat into the boat and the waves swamp their only means of survival with drowning waters, the disciple’s concern must have been well founded. 

As they bail out the terrorizing waters, they look to the back of the boat at the sleeping Jesus.  Waking Jesus they cry out, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”

You have no idea how many times I have heard those words.  The young woman, in pain from a life altering car accident, cries out, “Why did God let this happen?”  In other words, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”

The man who lost his job, his wife, and the custody of his children in the course of just a couple of months, in a bewildered state asks, “Has Jesus abandoned me?”  In other words, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”

And, faith communities that once thrived as the cultural centers of their towns now look out the doors on Sunday morning, seeing all of the cars drive past on their way to someplace else, and cry out, “What happened to this world?  Are not the people of God supposed to thrive?” 

And, though they will not say it out loud because it sounds like an inappropriate lament, the pressing thought that they tuck away is: “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”

The truth is that some storms are just too big for us to handle.  In our gospel writer’s time it was the fall of the Jewish temple that shook people to the core, even Christians.  Remember, most early Christians were Jews and the destruction of the temple, God’s home on earth, had them also asking, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” 

It was their 911.  It was their WWII.  It was their pandemic.  It was their fall of civilization as they knew it.  It was hell, delivered in a hand basket.  It was Satan, the strong man of the earth, taking over with his crawling demons by his side and threatening complete annihilation.  And, where was Jesus?  I do not know.  Apparently, he was sleeping!

“I guess that God just formed the earth and planets and then went on a permanent vacation,” some would argue.  “Maybe, God just doesn’t care.  Maybe, God just doesn’t love like we thought,” others would claim.  “Maybe, God’s just isn’t there,” the doubters threaten. 

“Jesus, why are you sleeping?”  “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”

Wait a second. 

Let us just pause right there.

Jesus, why are you sleeping? 

Will you grant us the time to just take a second to pause?  Let us pause all of our fears.  Let us pause all of our accusations.  Instead, can we just to stare at the back of the boat at the sleeping Jesus?   Can we take a moment to honestly ask, not out of accusation, but out of curiosity, “Jesus, why are you sleeping?”  “Why is none of this bothering you?”

You see, it is so easy for us humans to take our eyes off of Jesus and focus on ourselves.  We focus on our fears: “Will we lose what we have?”  “We focus on our desires: “I wish we could figure out how to have more!”  We focus on ourselves, “Don’t you care about us?”  And, in all of that self-focus, whether it be during a simple rainstorm or during a devastating hurricane, we lose sight of Jesus.  Or, more to the point, we forget to look at Jesus.

But this morning, Jesus, you have our attention.  We are going to push all of that other stuff (our fears and desires) aside and just look at you.  Show us what you want us to see.

So, through these scriptures, Jesus does.  Jesus desires us to focus closely on the details of the story. 

Jesus is in the boat, just as he is.  In other words, this story is about who Jesus is.  There is nothing mysterious about him.  Just look at him.

When we look at him, we see that he is peacefully asleep in a storm that we may view as a hurricane.  But, we should never forget, “Some people’s rain storms are other people’s hurricanes.”  Or, more to the point here, “Some disciples’ hurricanes are Jesus’ gentle rains.” 

Here is the problem: the disciples trusted in themselves to defeat these storms of chaos and evil with buckets in hand as they tried and failed to bail out the water.  Little did they realize, they had the savior of the entire universe in the boat with them.  If only they would stop the accusations of not caring and take a good look at him.  Jesus is asleep.  Jesus has no fear of the storm. 

Maybe, the Holy Spirit will urge us to take a pause as we struggle in the middle of the storms that rage against us, and maybe the Holy Spirit will encourage us to take a good look at Jesus. 

He is asleep.  Jesus has no fear of the storm.

In fact, for Jesus the hurricane force winds and rain appear to be a mere drizzle.  The Bible says that Jesus “woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still!’ Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm.” 

In the same way that Jesus rebukes those smaller demons in the chapters before this story, freeing people from their ailments, Jesus too is more than able to rebuke the major forces of evil and calm the waters.  Maybe, the problem is a lack of faith.

But, it might be too much for me as your pastor to just expect you to, “Just have more faith.” 

Jesus states clearly that the disciples had “no faith.”  I find that oddly comforting.  We tend to say, if only Jesus were just right here we would be able to trust more…but those who were right beside Jesus also had “no faith.”  So, I guess it is not the end of the world if I also lack faith at times.  I am quite certain that Jesus can overcome even that.  After-all, the “no faith” disciples did eventually become Jesus’ blessed apostles.

So, I am not going to tell you to just have more faith.  But, is it too much to ask you to at least look at Jesus? 

When the hurricane force winds overtake our lives and our fear sets in, that is your cue to look to the back of the boat.  Stare at the sleeping Jesus.  See the peace of God, even in the middle of the storm.  See Jesus.  Truly see him, just as he is, and maybe the gift of faith will come. 

Maybe, we will remember that we do not live to ourselves; rather we follow the one who does not fear storms, or demons, or the strong man, or Satan, or crosses, or graves.  And, maybe, we will proclaim along with the psalmist in Psalm 107:

 

            You stilled the storm to a whisper

    and silenced the waves of the sea.

         Then were they glad when it grew calm,

    when you guided them to the harbor they desired.

         Let them give thanks to you, Lord, for your steadfast love

    and your wonderful works for all people.

    (Psalm 107:29-31)