When The Boat Begins To Sink
Sermon
Sermons On The Gospel Readings
Series I, Cycle B
In the Gardener Museum in Boston hangs Rembrandt's painting of The Storm on the Sea of Galilee. The artist recreates the scene so powerfully that a viewer can sense the danger the small craft is in and the panic of those who are on board. The small boat is being lifted on the crest of a giant wave; sail and lines are torn loose from the riggings and flailing wildly in the gale. Five disciples are struggling to reef the sail while they hold on desperately to the mast. The rest are in the stern of the boat, clustered around Jesus, some frightened almost to death, one miserably seasick, hanging over the side, and others frantically waking Jesus from his sleep. It is apparent from the calm expression on the face of Christ that this is the moment when he says, "Why are you afraid?" Fourteen figures are in the boat: the twelve disciples, Jesus, and Rembrandt himself. There he stands, clutching one of the stays, holding his head in terror. That is where the artist saw himself. And it is there that many of us find ourselves, with little hope and much fear, as the furious storms threaten to sweep us overboard also.
It is to such persons as we are that this incident is directed. The Gospel writers felt that this incident was important enough for three of them to include it. Though they were reporting an incident from their close association with Jesus, they were aware that the significance of the event went beyond the experiences of that day. I think that the story has several things to say to us today.
In the first place, it tells of the fury of the storm. The Sea of Galilee is as dangerous as it is beautiful. W. M. Christie, who spent years in Galilee, tells of an occasion when a company of visitors were standing on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, and, noting the glassy surface of the water and the smallness of the lake, expressed doubts as to the possibility of such storms as those described in the Gospels. Almost immediately the wind sprang up. In twenty minutes the sea was white with foam-crested waves. Great billows broke over the towers at the corners of the city walls, and the visitors were compelled to seek shelter from the blinding spray, though they were 200 yards from the lakeside!
Such was the experience of the disciples in our story. The day had been a busy one. Mark states that Jesus had preached his message to the people using many parables. Being exhausted, he left the crowd, took his disciples with him, and got into a boat. Jesus went to the back of the boat, stretched out on a pillow, and went to sleep. Suddenly, a strong wind blew up the waves, and water began to spill into the boat. The disciples panicked and rushed to wake the sleeping Jesus.
Certainly the early Christian church heard this story gladly. They saw the boat as the church trying to make its way in a turbulent time. They saw the sea as the realm of evil, dominated by demons. They saw the storm as the persecution they were undergoing in the time of Nero. Sometimes it seemed to them, too, that the Lord was asleep or uncaring. They needed to be reminded that their Lord was with them in a time of persecution, and he would rise to strengthen their faith at the critical moment. This incident became for them an allegory, designed to bring them comfort and hope.
And, of course, we too are confronted with storms. We may stand for something we believe to be right, only to discover opposition, ridicule, a storm of protest. Headlines tell us that it happens today: "Holdout Juror Results in Hung Jury." "Union Activist Fired." "Whistleblower Demoted." We may find ourselves standing there, seemingly alone, clutching for life to some guy wire of integrity, not knowing whether it will hold us.
We may discover that those things we previously relied on for security are swept away: "Merger Leads To 5,000 Layoffs Locally." "Church Divides Over Abortion Issue." "Families Lose Life Savings In Investment Scam." When those headlines are about us, it feels as though everything is falling away beneath us. The boat is beginning to sink. Trusted landmarks have disappeared; navigation is out of control.
The second thing this story takes note of is the fear in the disciples. They shared the world view of their time. As far as they were concerned, every kind of trouble, disaster, or disorder was due to demonic forces. These forces were personal; they were creature-like servants of the evil one. Nature was governed by powers which possessed personalities and wills. Disease, deformity, and mental disturbances were signs of demonic possession. Storms, earthquakes, and natural disasters were the raging activity of demons. When the storm suddenly arose from nowhere, the winds beat against them, the lightning struck, and the waves whipped about them, threatening to capsize their little boat, they must have thought that a whole legion of demons had attacked them. Their cry for help is not only the cry of persons afraid of dying, but of persons afraid of falling into the hands of the evil one.
Now, what does this have to say to us today? We are too sophisticated to believe that demons have any power in our world, aren't we? Maybe, but there is still plenty of superstition to go around. My neighbor changed newspapers because the one she was reading didn't carry the daily astrological forecast. I took an elevator to the fourteenth floor of a modern office building without ever passing the thirteenth floor because none was listed. I have been instructed that the proper way to hang a horseshoe over a door is with the opening up, so that all the good luck doesn't pour out. No matter how educated we become, there is a feeling that there may be some forces at work in the world which have a say in what befalls us, and we are concerned about their power. Like those disciples, we too have fears about who, or what, is in control.
Fear, of course, is ruinous of life. It robs us of the ability to enjoy life. Recently, all the television news programs devoted themselves to the story of a man in Atlanta, Georgia, who killed twelve people and himself in an upscale business neighborhood. He was a day trader in the stock market, and had recently lost more than $100,000 in a week of trading. He was enraged, but also frightened about what this meant for him and his family. He couldn't face the future without his money, so he went home and killed his wife and two children, in order to spare them the agony of fear he was experiencing. Of course, the man was unbalanced, but fear causes people to do crazy things.
Whoever we are, these words about the fury of the storm and the fear it can create still speak to us. The movie Titanic captured the interest of people of all ages. One of the things that was obvious to moviegoers was that many of the lifeboats that were lowered were only half full. Yet hundreds of people were left behind to drown because of fear on the part of those in the boats. Survivors told of a swimmer who succeeded in making his way to one of the half-empty boats. He clutched the side and tried to climb in, but no one lent him a hand. In fact, one woman took an oar and pounded his hands until he couldn't hold on any longer, and he slipped back into the sea. She did it, not because there was no room in the boat, but because she was brutalized by fear. Fear can cause us to do things we would never have done if we felt secure.
One could go on and on describing the things that make us fearful and what happens to us as a result. Suffice it to say that fear is a common human experience and that it often robs life of its fulfillment.
In their fear the disciples cried out, "Teacher, don't you care?" Of course they knew that Jesus cared. But at this moment, as they fought for their lives and Jesus slept, it appeared that he didn't care. They got sucked into the panic of the moment, and they asked the question, "Don't you care?"
That is a feeling that is frequently expressed by us when life becomes stormy and we don't know if we can hold on. It is interesting that the word in this story that is translated "great storm" is also the word for "earthquake." As a Californian, I can certainly relate to that! Those who have not experienced earthquakes have certainly seen news footage over and over again of people who have had everything they have struggled to accumulate turned into rubble. Doesn't God care? Elsewhere, the problem is wildfire. People pray that it will not come near them, but it does come to many, and it brings devastation in its wake. Doesn't God care? For others, it is the rising of a river. The whole community turns out to fill sandbags and to patrol the levee, but the water breaks through anyway. Doesn't God care? Each of us knows from one experience or another, what it is like to be caught in a storm, to feel alone, and, like those disciples, to be afraid.
The third thing the story mentions is the response of Jesus. "Peace, be still," he said. There are those who say that he was really addressing the frightened disciples, that he was telling them, "Hush, get hold of yourselves!" Then, when they did get hold of themselves, they settled down, and when the storm ended as abruptly as it began, as is often the case on that lake, they felt that Jesus had brought it to pass. When they got calmed down because of his calm manner, they were able to cope with their situation. Certainly, there is something to be said for such an interpretation, for frequently, when we cry out in our distress, we find that we are not delivered from the situation, but are given grace to endure, given a new attitude that makes it possible to cope.
Such an interpretation appeals to me because that is the way I have found life to be. When we are in trouble, we pray for God's miraculous intervention to get us out of it. There is nothing wrong with that. That is the way children respond to difficulty, and we are children of the heavenly father. But I do not see God regularly interfering in the course of nature to set things right for his favorites or for those who have prayed for deliverance. If that were the case, deeply religious people would never have to face the consequences of their acts or suffer the risks that everyone else must deal with. To think that God could and should keep the rain off of our parade, no matter what is happening to others, is an assumption of arrogance which the life and teachings of Jesus do not support. Jesus, in prayer, asked to be spared the agony of the cross. That is a normal, human request. But he was not spared. Instead, he was strengthened to go through it. In the storm mentioned in this passage, the disciples were being reminded that whether their lives were spared or not, they could not fall outside of God's concern.
The next thing Jesus says is: "Why are you afraid?" God was silent and that made the disciples feel that God was asleep or unaware of their plight, so they were crying out for assurance. Richard Carl Hoefler tells of a little boy who was taking a train ride across the country with his parents. When it came time to go to bed, his mother put him in an upper berth and told him not to be afraid because she was there, Daddy was there, and God was there, and they would all look after him. When the lights were turned down, the little boy called out, "Mommy, are you still here?" "Yes, dear." "Is Daddy still here?" "Yes, dear." "Is God still here?" "Yes, dear." About five minutes later the voice was heard again, "Mommy, are you still here?" "Yes, dear." "Is Daddy still here?" "Yes, dear." "Is God still here?" "Yes, dear." Five minutes later it was the same thing and on through the night until about one o'clock, the little voice was heard again: "Mommy, are you still here?" Whereupon a great gruff voice from the end of the Pullman car roared, "Yes, your mother's here. Your daddy's here. Now shut up and go to sleep." There was a moment of silence and then the little voice spoke up once more, "Mommy, was that God?"1 Surely, sometimes God must feel like responding to us just as that man did in the Pullman car. We keep asking for assurances because, frankly, we're not that convinced that God is there.
So Jesus asks the disciples: "Have you no faith?" Faith is not the conviction that everyone is going to have things work out in their favor. We often talk about faith as though that is what it means. No wonder we are disappointed. In a world that makes sense, everyone cannot have everything work out favorably for them. A ministerial colleague tells of a conversation he had one day with a female medical assistant in a doctor's office, as he was waiting to see the doctor. The woman recognized him because she had occasionally attended his church, though she was a member of another church. "I want to tell you about my experience," she said. "I got saved in the Assemblies of God Church ... I gave my life to God ... and guess what? ... Life tumbled in! I developed a heart problem. My husband lost his executive job ... and he recently died of cancer." The minister says he tried to mumble a few theological sounding explanatory words about God's mysterious ways, thinking that was what the woman wanted. But she went right on with her story, indicating that she had repeatedly asked God, "Why me?" "And what do you think God told me?" she continued. " 'Why not you?' That's what God said. 'Why should you be spared all the crises of life that everyone else must go through?' " Then she wound up her story saying, "One day I said to God, 'Lord, you've forgiven me. Now I forgive you.' "2
There is a woman who, from my point of view, has a healthy faith. Her faith is not a series of propositions, it is a relationship, and as in all relationships, it is one that changes and can tolerate challenges. It is vital because it is honest.
In so many ways our experiences are like those of the disciples: We know what it is to go through stormy times. We know what it is to feel afraid and at the mercy of unfriendly forces. We know what it is to cry out at what feels like an unfriendly universe.
How shall we respond to the question of Jesus: "Have you no faith?" In a devotional article, Milward Simpson, a former governor of Wyoming, tells of flying in a plane that developed engine trouble. When the pilot announced that they were going to try to make an emergency landing, the governor took the hand of his wife and together they offered a simple statement of faith they often shared:
The light of God surrounds us.
The love of God enfolds us.
The power of God protects us.
And the presence of God watches over us:
Wherever we are, God is.
In the article he added that they knew that asserting this affirmation would not make everything turn out all right. But, he said, saying what they said was their way of declaring their confidence that, living or dying, they were in God's care.
Where is God when our boat begins to sink? Right there in the boat, as Jesus was with the disciples. God's presence is not a guarantee of protection, but an offer of maximum support. Support to calm the storm in us, support that helps us to realize that, whatever we are called to go through, at the heart of the universe is Love, and that Love is seeking to find expression through us.
____________
1. Richard Carl Hoefler, There Are Demons In The Sea (Lima: CSS Publishing Company, 1978), p. 101.
2. Pulpit Resources, Volume 16, Number 2, p. 43.
It is to such persons as we are that this incident is directed. The Gospel writers felt that this incident was important enough for three of them to include it. Though they were reporting an incident from their close association with Jesus, they were aware that the significance of the event went beyond the experiences of that day. I think that the story has several things to say to us today.
In the first place, it tells of the fury of the storm. The Sea of Galilee is as dangerous as it is beautiful. W. M. Christie, who spent years in Galilee, tells of an occasion when a company of visitors were standing on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, and, noting the glassy surface of the water and the smallness of the lake, expressed doubts as to the possibility of such storms as those described in the Gospels. Almost immediately the wind sprang up. In twenty minutes the sea was white with foam-crested waves. Great billows broke over the towers at the corners of the city walls, and the visitors were compelled to seek shelter from the blinding spray, though they were 200 yards from the lakeside!
Such was the experience of the disciples in our story. The day had been a busy one. Mark states that Jesus had preached his message to the people using many parables. Being exhausted, he left the crowd, took his disciples with him, and got into a boat. Jesus went to the back of the boat, stretched out on a pillow, and went to sleep. Suddenly, a strong wind blew up the waves, and water began to spill into the boat. The disciples panicked and rushed to wake the sleeping Jesus.
Certainly the early Christian church heard this story gladly. They saw the boat as the church trying to make its way in a turbulent time. They saw the sea as the realm of evil, dominated by demons. They saw the storm as the persecution they were undergoing in the time of Nero. Sometimes it seemed to them, too, that the Lord was asleep or uncaring. They needed to be reminded that their Lord was with them in a time of persecution, and he would rise to strengthen their faith at the critical moment. This incident became for them an allegory, designed to bring them comfort and hope.
And, of course, we too are confronted with storms. We may stand for something we believe to be right, only to discover opposition, ridicule, a storm of protest. Headlines tell us that it happens today: "Holdout Juror Results in Hung Jury." "Union Activist Fired." "Whistleblower Demoted." We may find ourselves standing there, seemingly alone, clutching for life to some guy wire of integrity, not knowing whether it will hold us.
We may discover that those things we previously relied on for security are swept away: "Merger Leads To 5,000 Layoffs Locally." "Church Divides Over Abortion Issue." "Families Lose Life Savings In Investment Scam." When those headlines are about us, it feels as though everything is falling away beneath us. The boat is beginning to sink. Trusted landmarks have disappeared; navigation is out of control.
The second thing this story takes note of is the fear in the disciples. They shared the world view of their time. As far as they were concerned, every kind of trouble, disaster, or disorder was due to demonic forces. These forces were personal; they were creature-like servants of the evil one. Nature was governed by powers which possessed personalities and wills. Disease, deformity, and mental disturbances were signs of demonic possession. Storms, earthquakes, and natural disasters were the raging activity of demons. When the storm suddenly arose from nowhere, the winds beat against them, the lightning struck, and the waves whipped about them, threatening to capsize their little boat, they must have thought that a whole legion of demons had attacked them. Their cry for help is not only the cry of persons afraid of dying, but of persons afraid of falling into the hands of the evil one.
Now, what does this have to say to us today? We are too sophisticated to believe that demons have any power in our world, aren't we? Maybe, but there is still plenty of superstition to go around. My neighbor changed newspapers because the one she was reading didn't carry the daily astrological forecast. I took an elevator to the fourteenth floor of a modern office building without ever passing the thirteenth floor because none was listed. I have been instructed that the proper way to hang a horseshoe over a door is with the opening up, so that all the good luck doesn't pour out. No matter how educated we become, there is a feeling that there may be some forces at work in the world which have a say in what befalls us, and we are concerned about their power. Like those disciples, we too have fears about who, or what, is in control.
Fear, of course, is ruinous of life. It robs us of the ability to enjoy life. Recently, all the television news programs devoted themselves to the story of a man in Atlanta, Georgia, who killed twelve people and himself in an upscale business neighborhood. He was a day trader in the stock market, and had recently lost more than $100,000 in a week of trading. He was enraged, but also frightened about what this meant for him and his family. He couldn't face the future without his money, so he went home and killed his wife and two children, in order to spare them the agony of fear he was experiencing. Of course, the man was unbalanced, but fear causes people to do crazy things.
Whoever we are, these words about the fury of the storm and the fear it can create still speak to us. The movie Titanic captured the interest of people of all ages. One of the things that was obvious to moviegoers was that many of the lifeboats that were lowered were only half full. Yet hundreds of people were left behind to drown because of fear on the part of those in the boats. Survivors told of a swimmer who succeeded in making his way to one of the half-empty boats. He clutched the side and tried to climb in, but no one lent him a hand. In fact, one woman took an oar and pounded his hands until he couldn't hold on any longer, and he slipped back into the sea. She did it, not because there was no room in the boat, but because she was brutalized by fear. Fear can cause us to do things we would never have done if we felt secure.
One could go on and on describing the things that make us fearful and what happens to us as a result. Suffice it to say that fear is a common human experience and that it often robs life of its fulfillment.
In their fear the disciples cried out, "Teacher, don't you care?" Of course they knew that Jesus cared. But at this moment, as they fought for their lives and Jesus slept, it appeared that he didn't care. They got sucked into the panic of the moment, and they asked the question, "Don't you care?"
That is a feeling that is frequently expressed by us when life becomes stormy and we don't know if we can hold on. It is interesting that the word in this story that is translated "great storm" is also the word for "earthquake." As a Californian, I can certainly relate to that! Those who have not experienced earthquakes have certainly seen news footage over and over again of people who have had everything they have struggled to accumulate turned into rubble. Doesn't God care? Elsewhere, the problem is wildfire. People pray that it will not come near them, but it does come to many, and it brings devastation in its wake. Doesn't God care? For others, it is the rising of a river. The whole community turns out to fill sandbags and to patrol the levee, but the water breaks through anyway. Doesn't God care? Each of us knows from one experience or another, what it is like to be caught in a storm, to feel alone, and, like those disciples, to be afraid.
The third thing the story mentions is the response of Jesus. "Peace, be still," he said. There are those who say that he was really addressing the frightened disciples, that he was telling them, "Hush, get hold of yourselves!" Then, when they did get hold of themselves, they settled down, and when the storm ended as abruptly as it began, as is often the case on that lake, they felt that Jesus had brought it to pass. When they got calmed down because of his calm manner, they were able to cope with their situation. Certainly, there is something to be said for such an interpretation, for frequently, when we cry out in our distress, we find that we are not delivered from the situation, but are given grace to endure, given a new attitude that makes it possible to cope.
Such an interpretation appeals to me because that is the way I have found life to be. When we are in trouble, we pray for God's miraculous intervention to get us out of it. There is nothing wrong with that. That is the way children respond to difficulty, and we are children of the heavenly father. But I do not see God regularly interfering in the course of nature to set things right for his favorites or for those who have prayed for deliverance. If that were the case, deeply religious people would never have to face the consequences of their acts or suffer the risks that everyone else must deal with. To think that God could and should keep the rain off of our parade, no matter what is happening to others, is an assumption of arrogance which the life and teachings of Jesus do not support. Jesus, in prayer, asked to be spared the agony of the cross. That is a normal, human request. But he was not spared. Instead, he was strengthened to go through it. In the storm mentioned in this passage, the disciples were being reminded that whether their lives were spared or not, they could not fall outside of God's concern.
The next thing Jesus says is: "Why are you afraid?" God was silent and that made the disciples feel that God was asleep or unaware of their plight, so they were crying out for assurance. Richard Carl Hoefler tells of a little boy who was taking a train ride across the country with his parents. When it came time to go to bed, his mother put him in an upper berth and told him not to be afraid because she was there, Daddy was there, and God was there, and they would all look after him. When the lights were turned down, the little boy called out, "Mommy, are you still here?" "Yes, dear." "Is Daddy still here?" "Yes, dear." "Is God still here?" "Yes, dear." About five minutes later the voice was heard again, "Mommy, are you still here?" "Yes, dear." "Is Daddy still here?" "Yes, dear." "Is God still here?" "Yes, dear." Five minutes later it was the same thing and on through the night until about one o'clock, the little voice was heard again: "Mommy, are you still here?" Whereupon a great gruff voice from the end of the Pullman car roared, "Yes, your mother's here. Your daddy's here. Now shut up and go to sleep." There was a moment of silence and then the little voice spoke up once more, "Mommy, was that God?"1 Surely, sometimes God must feel like responding to us just as that man did in the Pullman car. We keep asking for assurances because, frankly, we're not that convinced that God is there.
So Jesus asks the disciples: "Have you no faith?" Faith is not the conviction that everyone is going to have things work out in their favor. We often talk about faith as though that is what it means. No wonder we are disappointed. In a world that makes sense, everyone cannot have everything work out favorably for them. A ministerial colleague tells of a conversation he had one day with a female medical assistant in a doctor's office, as he was waiting to see the doctor. The woman recognized him because she had occasionally attended his church, though she was a member of another church. "I want to tell you about my experience," she said. "I got saved in the Assemblies of God Church ... I gave my life to God ... and guess what? ... Life tumbled in! I developed a heart problem. My husband lost his executive job ... and he recently died of cancer." The minister says he tried to mumble a few theological sounding explanatory words about God's mysterious ways, thinking that was what the woman wanted. But she went right on with her story, indicating that she had repeatedly asked God, "Why me?" "And what do you think God told me?" she continued. " 'Why not you?' That's what God said. 'Why should you be spared all the crises of life that everyone else must go through?' " Then she wound up her story saying, "One day I said to God, 'Lord, you've forgiven me. Now I forgive you.' "2
There is a woman who, from my point of view, has a healthy faith. Her faith is not a series of propositions, it is a relationship, and as in all relationships, it is one that changes and can tolerate challenges. It is vital because it is honest.
In so many ways our experiences are like those of the disciples: We know what it is to go through stormy times. We know what it is to feel afraid and at the mercy of unfriendly forces. We know what it is to cry out at what feels like an unfriendly universe.
How shall we respond to the question of Jesus: "Have you no faith?" In a devotional article, Milward Simpson, a former governor of Wyoming, tells of flying in a plane that developed engine trouble. When the pilot announced that they were going to try to make an emergency landing, the governor took the hand of his wife and together they offered a simple statement of faith they often shared:
The light of God surrounds us.
The love of God enfolds us.
The power of God protects us.
And the presence of God watches over us:
Wherever we are, God is.
In the article he added that they knew that asserting this affirmation would not make everything turn out all right. But, he said, saying what they said was their way of declaring their confidence that, living or dying, they were in God's care.
Where is God when our boat begins to sink? Right there in the boat, as Jesus was with the disciples. God's presence is not a guarantee of protection, but an offer of maximum support. Support to calm the storm in us, support that helps us to realize that, whatever we are called to go through, at the heart of the universe is Love, and that Love is seeking to find expression through us.
____________
1. Richard Carl Hoefler, There Are Demons In The Sea (Lima: CSS Publishing Company, 1978), p. 101.
2. Pulpit Resources, Volume 16, Number 2, p. 43.
