(Mark 4:35-41)
We have it wrong. I suppose the easy explanation as to why would be the fall into sin. Ever since the devil led Adam & Eve to question if God was hiding something from them or had their best interest in mind, we’ve followed suit. With the Fall, a default of doubt was established. When coupled with suffering or difficulties in our lives then, that doubt leads us to question God’s care and concern for us. Our upbringing and how we were raised can also add to this challenge. If we weren’t allowed to experience failure or adversity, if parents guarded against any notion of hardship or suffering, then our lives may seem to fall apart when they do hit.
Going a step further, when those storms we face in life are associated with certain people or organizations, we naturally conclude the same about those responsible: they don’t really care about us. The child asked to clean up after himself or carry out chores or help around the house is convinced that dad & mom are out to make life miserable. The teenager who isn’t granted the same permissions or freedoms that his friends’ parents allow presumes his own parents are uncaring or just downright mean. The extra protocols at work and exhausting policies for how everything is to be carried out are nothing more than a power play from management to flex authority. The government imposes this tax or passes that law that is deliberately oppressive just because it can.
We therefore conclude that all hardship or struggle is negative and to be avoided at all costs. The path to peace and happiness is to altogether avoid, limit, or as quickly as possible put an end to whatever is hard or hurts, or distance ourselves from those responsible for it – even God.
But we have it wrong. What if God has other purposes in mind through such adversity? What if, bear with me for just a moment, God actually wants to serve you through suffering? Could it be? Rather than presuming a good God must be a God who removes anything hard or hurtful from our lives, what if a good God is instead one who uses what is hard or hurtful even for our good? This is not easy to believe, which is why it fits in with our current series – only a top-down faith can grasp this!
That kind of faith still had plenty of room to grow in the disciples who were with Jesus as the stormy squall suddenly showed up and nearly swamped their ship. To their credit, when things looked bleak, they did the right thing and sought out Jesus. To their shame, however, they drew the wrong conclusion when they found him sleeping through the storm.
“The disciples woke him and said to him, ‘Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?’” (v.38). In their minds, the fretting and the fear in the face of the storm was normal, appropriate behavior. After all, their lives were in danger, and they knew Jesus could do something about it. Since he wasn’t, they concluded that he must not care about them.
This wasn’t their first outing with Jesus, remember. They had already witnessed many times what Jesus was able to do. Miracles followed everywhere they went. Jesus had cast out demons. Jesus had healed the sick, including Peter’s own mother-in-law. Jesus had shown what he was capable of doing when people were enduring hardship or hurt: he took care of it. So if he had shown himself able to take care of such dilemmas in the past, but wasn’t so much as lifting a finger in the present dilemma, the disciples concluded he must not really care.
Oh how often we draw the same misguided, mistaken conclusion! When God, who can act and intervene on our behalf in the face of hardship or hurt doesn’t, then he must not really care. When my singleness becomes a cross to bear and the God who instituted marriage and brings husbands and wives together in marriage still hasn’t done so for me, doesn’t he care? When the God who has shown he can heal others of their cancer hasn’t done so for me, doesn’t he care? When I struggle to rub two pennies together and find myself financially strapped, doesn’t he care? When others talk behind my back and trash and trample my name and reputation, doesn’t he care?
And we often allow our shock to reach even higher levels when we revisit our own behavior in these situations and like to highlight the good we’ve been doing on our end. I’m using my singleness to give more attention to my faith, to better myself and to grow, but still I’m single. I make my appointments, pay attention to my diet, and go above and beyond, but still the cancer spreads. I give generous offerings, but still have financial hardships. I treat others kindly and respectfully, always avoiding gossip, and still my name is mud.
What we’re telling ourselves and God in those situations is essentially, “God, I’m doing my part – why aren’t you stepping in and doing yours? Why are you letting this storm continue in my life?” When we wrestle with these kinds of conclusions in our own minds, I wonder if we can see ourselves in the boat with the disciples, in line right behind them, waiting for our turn to rustle Jesus awake and chide him for not caring about us more by stepping up and doing something.
The disciples were surprised at what they found when they sought out Jesus in the storm. “Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion” (v.38). How could Jesus nap at a time like that? Why wasn’t he awake, his mind overthinking everything and playing out the worst-case scenarios? “What if a disciple is lost overboard?” “What if the boat capsizes and everyone drowns?” “What if this is a premature end for Jesus and he dies before he has been able to carry out the full work of salvation?” Where was the worry? Where was the concern?
Rather than questioning Christ’s care, they should have been shocked for an entirely different reason. A better question would have been “Where do we find this kind of peaceful rest in the midst of the storm?” That should have been the question on the mind of the disciples. But they could only see what was in front of them. They could only focus on the choppy water and the clouds clapping with thunder and the pelting rain as the boat was thrashing back and forth, completely at the mercy of the sea.
It is so difficult for us to look beyond those things, too, isn’t it? We only see the turmoil and testing right in front of us. We have tunnel vision and the rest of the world – including other people’s concerns and worries and problems – is blurred out to us while our own problems sharpen into focus. That’s all we see – our problems… and God’s lack of intervention to do something about them.
But why was Jesus able to sleep? Because he knew his Father was on 24-hour watch. He could sleep peacefully because he had a perfect faith that trusted his Father’s promise to never leave or forsake him. He knew and believed his Father’s promise to deliver him. He could rest because while he did, nothing would ever escape the notice of his faithful Father, watching over all things at all times and weaving them into good for his people – yes, even the storms.
Nevertheless, Jesus used this opportunity to also remind his disciples of who he was and the authority he had over all of creation. “He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, ‘Quiet! Be still!’ Then the wind died down and it was completely calm” (v.39). Wow. Jesus’ commanding words control nature itself! When we consider that it was God’s powerful word that brought everything into existence at creation, we cannot help but draw the obvious conclusion here – the connection is even more powerful: God was right there in the boat with his disciples! The very author and designer of all of creation was himself present with the disciples, showcasing his absolute authority.
His rebuke of the wind and waves was not Jesus’ only rebuke, however. He then turned from the storm to his disciples. “He said to his disciples, ‘Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?’” (v.40). Even as we marvel at Jesus’ power over nature, his own display of divine might accentuates the absurdity of the disciples and their foolish doubts. Did they really doubt the One who just bid the storm to cease just like that? Did they really question his care for them? Did they really think he didn’t care? That One, who just shut down a storm with his voice? What a faint faith they had!
And… what a faint faith we have. All these years later and we have not only ample evidence in the Scriptures for us to learn from, but even our past personal experience to confirm that God does care. Yet still at times it is as if we have no faith at all. We resort to our default, doubt, even with so much evidence to the contrary. Not only should Jesus have slept out the storm and left the disciples in their doubt; he also ought to leave us swimming in our own doubts to let us see how that works out for us.
Jesus, though, has done far more for us since that storm at sea. By his crucifixion and resurrection, he has since shut up Satan’s accusing charges. He has shut down his power over us. He has shut up hell to those who cling to him. He has shut the door on death’s permanent separation.
And he has calmed much more than a storm at sea; he has calmed the Father’s rage against sin and rebellion by his crucifixion. He brought peace to us because he was willing to be punished in our place. He opened access to heaven in all its holiness – and all this for those who have no right being there on their own! He does not just have power over nature, but over death itself! He makes the dead alive. He kills the deadly storm of death and only through Jesus, the sin-torn soul knows peace and forgiveness.
Does he care about you? May we never doubt his care for us again. He doesn’t just serve us by removing the storms; he does better – he serves us through them.
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