Overcome

Mark 4:35-41

Have you ever gone to bed during the raging cacophony of a violent thunderstorm and then awoken to a sweet symphony of birdsong the next morning? Did you ever stop and wonder, “How the heck did those birds survive the storm?” It’s one thing to sleep through a storm in your own bed in the safety and shelter of your cozy home…it’s another thing entirely to sleep when you are in out in the elements, pelted by the rain, tossed by the wind, clinging to a branch as the storm rages all around you. Somehow the birds do it and wake up singing. Pretty amazing.

Somehow, Jesus managed to do it, too. He fell asleep in the back of a fishing boat while gale-force winds shook the surface of the sea and waves crashed over the gunwales. The disciples, meanwhile, probably felt a lot like the person I described in last week’s sermon: buried, in over their heads, overwhelmed, stressed-out, overcome with fear. They cry out in their distress [my translation], “Jesus, are you kidding me? How are you sleeping right now when we’re about to die?” Imagine the scene: cold, dark, wet, and the wind is howling so loud you can barely hear the disciples screams of despair. It’s chaos.

Jesus gets up and speaks: “Peace, be still.” Mark tells us he “gave orders to the wind” and “spoke to the lake”, but something tells me he was speaking to his disciples, too. “Shhh…calm down.” As soon as he’s done addressing the storm, he turns to his disciples and asks what seems to be a pretty dumb question to ask a group of human beings who up until 5 seconds prior thought that they were going to die, “Why are you frightened? Don’t you have faith, yet?”

Why were they frightened? What does Jesus expect of them? And what does he mean by, “Don’t you have faith, yet?” The disciples, previously overcome by fear are now overcome with awe. “Who is this guy?” they ask one another. These two questions: “Who is this guy?” and “Don’t you have faith, yet?” are the crux of not only this passage, but perhaps of the entire gospel of Mark. “Who is Jesus?” and “Will you trust him?”

I don’t think I mentioned, last week, where Jesus had been while he was teaching parables to the crowds. Mark 4:1, “Jesus began to teach beside the lake again. Such a large crowd gathered that he climbed into a boat there on the lake. He sat in the boat while the whole crowd was nearby on the shore.” As soon as he finishes teaching for the day, Jesus says to his disciples, “Let’s cross over to the other side of the lake.” This comment is particularly interesting if you know a bit more about the geography of this story and about the social/political climate of the audience to whom Mark writes.

Jesus and his disciples are crossing the Sea of Galilee. “This unit lies between Jesus ministry on the west bank…and his first mighty work in pagan territory.”[1] Lamar Williamson wonders if Mark wasn’t using this transition story to hint at the metaphorical storm raging within the waters of early Christianity between Jewish Christians and Gentile Christians.[2] When Jesus tells his disciples, “Let us cross over to the other side of the lake,” is this Mark’s way of challenging his own audience to cross over and mingle with those with whom they have the most turbulent disagreements? And might the same apply to us? Might God be challenging us to have faith, to trust in him, and to make a journey out into chaos?

There are times when I look at the world around me—all of the injustice, and suffering, and fear, and the cacophony of anger, and distress, and violence—and I can relate to the disciples: aghast that God appears to be sleeping on the job. And my own storm-tossed heart echoes with their cry, “God, don’t you even care?” And God cries back, “Don’t you have faith?”

Chaos often causes us to question, or even give up on, our faith. One of the hardest parts of my job is climbing on the boat with storm-tossed people who are very afraid and hardly afloat. This is when I, in the role of pastor, face some of the most challenging questions about faith and grace, as people begin to doubt the existence of a loving, caring God in the midst of their suffering, or the suffering of a loved one. But I have also stepped into boats and witnessed some of the most powerful and inspiring faith from families dealing with death or parishioners facing pain and illness. I’ve watched hearts and souls holding fast to faith and hope to stay afloat; I’ve heard brave and courageous voices cry out for justice in the face of injustice. These are the moments where I feel God calling me to have more faith, in the chaos of life. And this is where Mark also challenges the Christian community to have more faith.

There’s another story about God speaking out over a watery chaos, a story with which I am sure Mark and his audience would have been very familiar.

“Let there be light!”

“Let there be peace!”

What do God’s words of creation and Christ’s words of calming have in common? Before we consider how God confronts chaos, let’s think about how we do. When storms rage, when fear takes hold of our hearts and minds, how do we respond? When our faith falters, our response to chaos is often chaotic and harmful. When we break down we break things: relationships, promises, laws….Our response to chaos can be destructive. But God’s response to chaos is creative.

This is why I pray to God. This is why I work on my own faith. When storms rage in a world where the default response is “destruction,” do I have the faith to allow God’s words inspire and empower me respond in creative and life-giving ways? Can I shout out to seas of injustice, “Cut that out!” Can I cry out to the winds of war, “Be at peace!” Can I be a calming companion to those who are desperate and despairing? Does my faith inspire and empower a creative response? Or does my fear insist on a destructive response? Too often we use our fear to justify our destructive behavior towards others—we can do all sorts of inhumane and ugly and awful things when we’re afraid. “Cut that out,” Jesus cries out. “Stop letting fear rule your life. Have more faith.”

“Love God.” “Love your neighbor.” “Love your enemies.” These are the commands of Jesus Christ which defy our destructive impulse and insist that if we are to be his disciples we must surrender our fear, have faith, and trust in the power of our Creator.

Consider the birds…they survive the storm and wake up with the strength to sing. Consider the boat in which you sail and the storms through which you pass. Sing out your faith, O Church, over the wind and the waves. Be a source of peace and calm and hope and justice. Overcome the fearful and destructive ways of this world with the faithful and creative way of our God so that the world might be overcome with awe and ask, “Who is this God that inspires you to create peace in the midst of the storm?” Amen.

[1] Williamson, Lamar. Jr. “Mark” from Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching.

[2] Williamson, Lamar. Jr. “Mark” from Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching. 101.