To Perish and Live
Mark 4:35-41
4:35 On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, "Let us go across to the other side.” 36 And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. 37 A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. 38 But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?" 39 He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Peace! Be still!" Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. 40 He said to them, "Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?" 41 And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, "Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?"
-------------------------------------
Forgive me the clichéd metaphor, but a devastating windstorm has hit my life, and it is not subsiding. I'm sinking as wave after wave of heartache and despair crashes into me. In fact, I am “already swamped." I can’t take it anymore. I don’t have the ability to stay afloat, let alone sail. I don’t think I’m going to make it to the other side. Except for a niggling, erratic little faith, I am pretty much convinced that I am perishing.
Sure feels like it.
I have the great windstorm, the lashing waves, and the already swamped boat to prove that I am perishing. Often feels like Jesus is asleep at the stern of my life. Those disciples on the boat are not the only ones to ask the question of the Lord Jesus Christ, “Do you not care that I am perishing?” It sometimes looks like He doesn’t, when I look around my life, and it feels like He doesn’t, as I struggle to stay afloat.
Am I talking to someone who knows how I feel?
Do we both have something to learn from this reading?
"Let us go across to the other side," Jesus says innocuously enough.
So, the disciples leave the crowd behind, and embark on a journey with Jesus in the boat with them. It was a simple request. They weren’t anticipating trouble. The disciples were on that boat away from the shore when the “great windstorm” struck, not because of any irresponsible behavior on their part, but only because Jesus had wanted to get to the other side. As good disciples, they wanted to follow and please Jesus.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, they’re faced with lashing, high waves that swamp the boat with water, and gale force winds that rock the boat dangerously, leaving these seasoned fisherman reeling, overcome by fear because they believe they’re facing imminent death.
And Jesus, who is the reason they’re out there in the stormy waters, is asleep!
It feels like they are about to perish, along with their hopes of getting to the other side. And it looks like their teacher doesn’t care.
They were about to discover otherwise. They were about to learn more about Him.
“Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” They wake Him up, terrified and probably annoyed that He was sleeping.
They assume because Jesus is sleeping that He didn’t care about them. Their question is an accusation. An insult. It probably deeply hurt His feelings that His chosen were assuming the worst about Him. But, while the good Lord rebukes the wind to save them from perishing, He does not rebuke them. Instead, He demonstrates that they were wrong about Him, and points them to a deeper understanding of who He is -- and how much they can count on Him.
He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Peace! Be still!" Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm.
Then Jesus, probably disappointed in them, asks them a probing question. "Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?"
It is one they have to answer for themselves. The experience on the boat probably will affect their response. It is a question that we are faced with today. And, like those disciples, our answer will be depend on how well we know the Lord Jesus Christ.
Filled with great awe by what He had done to save them -- when they couldn’t save themselves -- they ask the right question.
"Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?"
I think it is significant that it took almost perishing for the disciples to reach that point. I think it is significant that it is in the boat, which is where they are probably most at home, most secure, most comfortable, and usually most in control, that they are shown the pathetic limits of their abilities, and the limitless power of God. They learn their complete dependence on God at that very place where their greatest strength perishes. When their human strength is shown for the sham that it is, they learn about God and His strength, and how much they do and can depend on Him. This is a lesson not only on the paucity of their faith and abilities, but on the infinite power of a living, caring God.
The truth is that even though it looked otherwise, Jesus did care – and, as long as He was in the boat with them, they were not going to perish. They did not realize this when they began that journey. They did not recognize who He was and what He could do.
They do, in fact, get across to the other side. But, not before a “great” windstorm had risen. Not just a windstorm, but, a “great” one. And waves beat into the boat. And the boat was “already” being swamped. Not just a little water coming in, but the boat was being “swamped.”
I think I know how that feels. Do you?
As the disciples wake up their sleeping teacher, they were about to wake up to who He really was. They were about to wake up to how much they could count on Him.
When Jesus wakes up, He demonstrates quickly and dramatically that He does care about their lives, and that He has the power and willingness to do something about it.
But this display of who He really is occurs only after the boat was already being swamped.
I am struck by the fact that they wouldn’t have seen this side of the Lord, if they hadn’t been caught in a storm that they could not handle at all, even though they were experienced fisherman. If things weren’t dire, they wouldn’t have needed Him, or felt the need to wake Him up, and they wouldn’t have seen Him do what they knew they could not. What if the wind had been strong, which made things difficult to navigate, but hardy, skilled fisherman that they were, they were up to the task? Well, they would have taken pride in steering that boat safely to the other side as the Lord had wanted. They would have reached there, and then woken Him up, and told Him the story of how they had weathered the strong wind, and safely navigated the boat. They may well have honed an inflated rather than sober sense of self.
All to their detriment.
They would have missed the vivid demonstration of God at work; they would have missed the unmistakable imprint of a divine encounter. They wouldn’t have needed Him. They would have missed the revelation of who Jesus is. Their lives would have been poorer for it. And, that question in their mind that was voiced, “Don’t you care?” well, it might not have been answered quite so decisively in their own lives.
In our lives, too, perhaps it takes a real fear of perishing, knowing that we are unable to fend for ourselves, for us to come to that place in our faith journey where we cast our very lives in God’s dependable hands. Perhaps it is necessary for our secure worlds to be torn asunder, for us to come to the very end of our abilities, in order to deepen our knowledge of Jesus Christ, raise our faith, and underscore our willingness to trust Him with our lives. Perhaps it is only when we come to the absolute end of our ability, when we are done with the last dregs of everything about ourselves that we trust, that we come to a place where we can know the full truth about Jesus. Both, about how much He loves, and how much we can trust Him.
As human beings, for the most part, if we can take credit, we will. Those disciples heard Jesus speak, and saw the effects. They couldn’t take the credit. Their question at the end is focused on Jesus, and on this new revelation of who He is: “Who then is this that even the wind and the sea obey him?”
Notice that this ends with the right question – they see something about Jesus they hadn’t seen before. If the wind and sea obey Him, well, He is no ordinary man; certainly not just an extraordinary teacher. It would be to their benefit to put their faith in Him, rather than in themselves. Surely, after witnessing this display of both His care and His power, their faith in Him would increase. The winds and seas obey His word, for crying out loud!
What if it is precisely because our boat is “already swamped” and a “great windstorm” is submerging us that we will come to know Jesus more intimately?
What if it turns out that we are not really perishing, after all, in spite of all the evidence to the contrary, because He is in our midst?
What if, indeed, despite all our drowned hopes, we do reach the other side because He travels with us?
What if this Lord we follow proves, yet again, that He is faithful, even when we doubt Him and insult Him?
What if our little faith is transformed to great faith precisely because of this great windstorm, because, stripped of all illusions about our selves and forced to depend on Him alone, He finally has our full attention and now has a chance to show us who He is, and how deeply He cares?
What if we see the works of God demonstrated in our midst in a way that is unmistakable?
What if a steadfast, loving, omnipotent God is working in our midst even now to make us into faithful and fearless disciples, who know Him intimately and love and trust Him completely?
So may it be. Amen.
4:35 On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, "Let us go across to the other side.” 36 And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. 37 A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. 38 But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?" 39 He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Peace! Be still!" Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. 40 He said to them, "Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?" 41 And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, "Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?"
-------------------------------------
Forgive me the clichéd metaphor, but a devastating windstorm has hit my life, and it is not subsiding. I'm sinking as wave after wave of heartache and despair crashes into me. In fact, I am “already swamped." I can’t take it anymore. I don’t have the ability to stay afloat, let alone sail. I don’t think I’m going to make it to the other side. Except for a niggling, erratic little faith, I am pretty much convinced that I am perishing.
Sure feels like it.
I have the great windstorm, the lashing waves, and the already swamped boat to prove that I am perishing. Often feels like Jesus is asleep at the stern of my life. Those disciples on the boat are not the only ones to ask the question of the Lord Jesus Christ, “Do you not care that I am perishing?” It sometimes looks like He doesn’t, when I look around my life, and it feels like He doesn’t, as I struggle to stay afloat.
Am I talking to someone who knows how I feel?
Do we both have something to learn from this reading?
"Let us go across to the other side," Jesus says innocuously enough.
So, the disciples leave the crowd behind, and embark on a journey with Jesus in the boat with them. It was a simple request. They weren’t anticipating trouble. The disciples were on that boat away from the shore when the “great windstorm” struck, not because of any irresponsible behavior on their part, but only because Jesus had wanted to get to the other side. As good disciples, they wanted to follow and please Jesus.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, they’re faced with lashing, high waves that swamp the boat with water, and gale force winds that rock the boat dangerously, leaving these seasoned fisherman reeling, overcome by fear because they believe they’re facing imminent death.
And Jesus, who is the reason they’re out there in the stormy waters, is asleep!
It feels like they are about to perish, along with their hopes of getting to the other side. And it looks like their teacher doesn’t care.
They were about to discover otherwise. They were about to learn more about Him.
“Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” They wake Him up, terrified and probably annoyed that He was sleeping.
They assume because Jesus is sleeping that He didn’t care about them. Their question is an accusation. An insult. It probably deeply hurt His feelings that His chosen were assuming the worst about Him. But, while the good Lord rebukes the wind to save them from perishing, He does not rebuke them. Instead, He demonstrates that they were wrong about Him, and points them to a deeper understanding of who He is -- and how much they can count on Him.
He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Peace! Be still!" Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm.
Then Jesus, probably disappointed in them, asks them a probing question. "Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?"
It is one they have to answer for themselves. The experience on the boat probably will affect their response. It is a question that we are faced with today. And, like those disciples, our answer will be depend on how well we know the Lord Jesus Christ.
Filled with great awe by what He had done to save them -- when they couldn’t save themselves -- they ask the right question.
"Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?"
I think it is significant that it took almost perishing for the disciples to reach that point. I think it is significant that it is in the boat, which is where they are probably most at home, most secure, most comfortable, and usually most in control, that they are shown the pathetic limits of their abilities, and the limitless power of God. They learn their complete dependence on God at that very place where their greatest strength perishes. When their human strength is shown for the sham that it is, they learn about God and His strength, and how much they do and can depend on Him. This is a lesson not only on the paucity of their faith and abilities, but on the infinite power of a living, caring God.
The truth is that even though it looked otherwise, Jesus did care – and, as long as He was in the boat with them, they were not going to perish. They did not realize this when they began that journey. They did not recognize who He was and what He could do.
They do, in fact, get across to the other side. But, not before a “great” windstorm had risen. Not just a windstorm, but, a “great” one. And waves beat into the boat. And the boat was “already” being swamped. Not just a little water coming in, but the boat was being “swamped.”
I think I know how that feels. Do you?
As the disciples wake up their sleeping teacher, they were about to wake up to who He really was. They were about to wake up to how much they could count on Him.
When Jesus wakes up, He demonstrates quickly and dramatically that He does care about their lives, and that He has the power and willingness to do something about it.
But this display of who He really is occurs only after the boat was already being swamped.
I am struck by the fact that they wouldn’t have seen this side of the Lord, if they hadn’t been caught in a storm that they could not handle at all, even though they were experienced fisherman. If things weren’t dire, they wouldn’t have needed Him, or felt the need to wake Him up, and they wouldn’t have seen Him do what they knew they could not. What if the wind had been strong, which made things difficult to navigate, but hardy, skilled fisherman that they were, they were up to the task? Well, they would have taken pride in steering that boat safely to the other side as the Lord had wanted. They would have reached there, and then woken Him up, and told Him the story of how they had weathered the strong wind, and safely navigated the boat. They may well have honed an inflated rather than sober sense of self.
All to their detriment.
They would have missed the vivid demonstration of God at work; they would have missed the unmistakable imprint of a divine encounter. They wouldn’t have needed Him. They would have missed the revelation of who Jesus is. Their lives would have been poorer for it. And, that question in their mind that was voiced, “Don’t you care?” well, it might not have been answered quite so decisively in their own lives.
In our lives, too, perhaps it takes a real fear of perishing, knowing that we are unable to fend for ourselves, for us to come to that place in our faith journey where we cast our very lives in God’s dependable hands. Perhaps it is necessary for our secure worlds to be torn asunder, for us to come to the very end of our abilities, in order to deepen our knowledge of Jesus Christ, raise our faith, and underscore our willingness to trust Him with our lives. Perhaps it is only when we come to the absolute end of our ability, when we are done with the last dregs of everything about ourselves that we trust, that we come to a place where we can know the full truth about Jesus. Both, about how much He loves, and how much we can trust Him.
As human beings, for the most part, if we can take credit, we will. Those disciples heard Jesus speak, and saw the effects. They couldn’t take the credit. Their question at the end is focused on Jesus, and on this new revelation of who He is: “Who then is this that even the wind and the sea obey him?”
Notice that this ends with the right question – they see something about Jesus they hadn’t seen before. If the wind and sea obey Him, well, He is no ordinary man; certainly not just an extraordinary teacher. It would be to their benefit to put their faith in Him, rather than in themselves. Surely, after witnessing this display of both His care and His power, their faith in Him would increase. The winds and seas obey His word, for crying out loud!
What if it is precisely because our boat is “already swamped” and a “great windstorm” is submerging us that we will come to know Jesus more intimately?
What if it turns out that we are not really perishing, after all, in spite of all the evidence to the contrary, because He is in our midst?
What if, indeed, despite all our drowned hopes, we do reach the other side because He travels with us?
What if this Lord we follow proves, yet again, that He is faithful, even when we doubt Him and insult Him?
What if our little faith is transformed to great faith precisely because of this great windstorm, because, stripped of all illusions about our selves and forced to depend on Him alone, He finally has our full attention and now has a chance to show us who He is, and how deeply He cares?
What if we see the works of God demonstrated in our midst in a way that is unmistakable?
What if a steadfast, loving, omnipotent God is working in our midst even now to make us into faithful and fearless disciples, who know Him intimately and love and trust Him completely?
So may it be. Amen.
posted by Ruth at 5:20 AM
1 Comments:
I love this. I wish it didn't take that certain sense of our own inability to handle life to make us call on the Lord, that feeling of being "swamped" and "perishing," but it does put things in the proper perspective, doesn't it? He is God; we are not.
Amen.
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