Rocking the Boat

(Scriptures:  I Samuel 17:32-49, 2 Corinthians 6:1-13, Mark 4:35-41)

Any horror movie fans in the house today? I have to confess, it’s not my favorite genre of film, but I’ve seen a few over the years. In many horror movies, you can tell when something – er….horrible…is going to happen, because the creepy background music starts up. It’s predictable, as predictable as a scene of a woman being chased by the bad guy or monster and tripping over something while they run….they always trip and fall. In many movies, such non-verbal cues such as changes in background music or lighting and camera angles help prepare the viewer for what is to come.

The writer of Mark’s Gospel is, among other things, a master storyteller. Our Gospel reading, about Jesus calming the storm, marks a transitional moment in the early days of Jesus’ early ministry. Up until this point, Jesus has been ministering mostly among Jews. Having taught the crowds along his side of the sea of Galilee, Jesus launches across the sea to heal and preach among the people on the other side of the sea. And these people are…..for the most part, Gentiles. Non-Jews. People of different beliefs than those whom Jesus has encountered thus far. So Jesus is moving out of his comfort zone, and dragging his disciples with him. If Mark’s Gospel were a Star Wars movie, right about now Peter or one of the other disciples would probably be saying, “I have a bad feeling about this.”

The boat sets out on the water – Mark tells us other boats were him. As Jesus is in the back of the boat, asleep on the cushion – Mark gives us that level of detail – a violent windstorm comes up. It’s almost as if nature itself is aroused and trying to prevent Jesus from crossing. The disciples wake Jesus up with words, not only of fear, but of reproach – “Don’t you care that we’re dying?” We’re told that Jesus rebukes the wind and says, “Peace, be still” – and conditions become dead calm. The exchange between Jesus and the disciples bears mentioning: Jesus says, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” But we’re told the disciples are filled with great fear and ask, “Who is this, that even the wind and waves obey him?” One wonders, after all this happened, whether they were more afraid of the storm that had threatened to drown them or of this Jesus, who appears so nondescript but who could calm the storm, just like that.

The story of Jesus calming the waves is so important that accounts of it appear in all four Gospels. Apparently the early church saw this story as crucial to understanding who Jesus is. The sea was seen as large, threatening, beyond human control or even comprehension – but very much within Jesus’ control. The story also foreshadows what will happen on the Gentile side of the Sea of Galilee – Jesus casts a demon out of the Gerasene demoniac, who lived among the tombs. Jesus who could calm the storms swirling around the disciples could also calm the storm going on within the man living among the tombs.

For the earliest readers of Mark’s Gospel, Jesus’ miracles were not just along the lines of cosmic good deeds done to impress and instruct his disciples. Rather, they were seen as a strategic advance of the Reign of God, an attack by the forces of God against the forces of evil, as represented by the storm and the demon that possessed the man who lived among the tombs.

This story – of Jesus crossing the sea of Galilee into Gentile territory, of storms threatening to end the mission before it began, of Jesus calming the storms and casting out demons on the Gentile side of the sea as he had on the Jewish side – would have resonated strongly with the earliest Christians. For they encountered the same obstacles. The 27th chapter of Acts tells of another sea voyage – a voyage of Paul to Italy - in which the ship encountered violent storms, and while the ship was run aground and destroyed, miraculously everyone’s life was saved. Paul, like Jesus and the disciples in our Gospel reading, traveled far from his own people to share the Gospel, encountered danger both from the sea and from opposition – and found that God was present, even in the midst of the storm. Reflecting on his experiences, in his letter to the church at Corinth he writes: “As servants of God we have commended ourselves in every way: through great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger; by purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love, truthful speech, and the power of God; with the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left; in honor and dishonor, in ill repute and good repute. We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet are well known; as dying, and see — we are alive; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything.”

Our little congregation, and our individual lives, may feel like small boats caught in a hurricane. We may find the deck swaying and our teeth rattling, may shake, rattle and roll as we’re tossed up and down and side to side. Especially if we are faithful to the Gospel, we are guaranteed to encounter pushback. After all, the best way to avoid getting caught in the storm is never to leave the dock. While it’s safe to stay on shore, it’s not faithful. Like those early disciples, like the Apostle Paul, we’re called to leave the safety of our backyards to set out for unknown territory, to go where God calls us to go. And we’ll encounter opposition and discouragement – if are serious and committed about doing the work of the Reign of God and taking on powers and principalities and spiritual wickedness in high places, the powers and principalities are going to push back. Our fear will make us want to turn around and go back to what’s familiar. The Bible doesn’t promise us blue skies and calm seas, but rather that God will be with us in the midst of the storm. In our fear we may cry out to God, “Don’t you care that we’re about to go under!” It is then that we can remember that we worship an awesome God who is very much in control.

Let me close with these words:

Be still, my soul, thy God does undertake to guide the future as he has the past.
The hope, thy confidence let nothing shake; all now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the wind and waves still know his voice who ruled them while he dwelt below.

Amen.