Sun Kwak, “Into the Storms”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Jid_D52QP8

TEXT: Mark 4:35-41

[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, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. And other boats were with him. [37] And a great windstorm arose, and the waves were breaking into the boat, so that the boat was already filling. [38] But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion. And they woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” [39] And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. [40] He said to them, “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?” [41] And they were filled with great fear and said to one another, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?”

SERMON: “Into the Storms”

There’s a children’s book written by Jonny Gibson, who teaches at Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia, and it’s a book titled The Moon Is Always Round — a book that I know has had some significance to some of you in here. The genesis of that little book was this little catechism of three questions and answers that Jonny wrote for his little son Benjamin. And the first question is — What shape is the moon tonight? And depending on the night, it might have been a new moon or a half moon or a waning or waxing crescent. Or, a gibbous. Or, it might have been an actual full moon. It could have looked like a variety of Ritz crackers. But what this question was going after was that the shape of the moon is always changing when we see it in the night sky, according to the time of the month. Meaning this shape is perceived from our vantage point, from our perspective. And so, Benjamin would answer according to what he saw in the moment. But then, the second catechism question is — What shape is the moon always? And the answer that would come back regardless of what shape the moon was that night — The moon is always round. That no matter what Benjamin saw with his eyes, it didn’t change what shape the moon was. So then, the third and final question of this three part catechism is — What does that mean? To which Benjamin would answer — It means that God is always good. And it was a simple catechism tool and something that Jonny would use with Benjamin to teach him about God’s providence and his unchanging promises. Because sometimes, what we see with our eyes doesn’t necessarily match what’s actually real. What we experience doesn’t always match with what’s promised. Because the night sky might hide God’s goodness from our vision. But this doesn’t change who God is or what he’s said through his promises. Because circumstances don’t have the power or authority to change, once again, who God is or what God has said. And for Jonny, he didn’t know how timely this exercise between him and Benjamin would be until a later time.

Because several months after they started reciting this together, Jonny’s wife gave birth to a still-born daughter. They named her Lela. And as Benjamin went home after saying goodbye to his little sister at the hospital, he asked his dad these series of questions — Daddy, will Mommy ever grow a baby that wakes up? To which Jonny answered — I don’t know, son. And then, little Benjamin asked — Daddy, why isn’t Lela coming home with us? And to this, Jonny answered — Jesus called her home. To which Benjamin then asked — Will Lela ever go home with us? And Jonathan answered — No, when you’re with Jesus, you never want to go anywhere else. So finally, Benjamin asked — Why is she not coming home with us? And Jonny answered — Son, I don’t know why. And as Jonny is sharing this, he recalls that he was choking back tears, doing everything he can from collapsing on the wheel. But then, he remembered the catechism. And so, he asked his questioning son — Benjamin, what shape is the moon tonight? What shape is the moon always? What does that mean? To which Benjamin responded in order the shape of the moon that night, that the moon is always round, and it means that God is always good, no matter what we see from our vantage point. Because like Benjamin, like Jonny, there are things that happen in our lives that we often can’t equate God’s goodness to. And I’m aware that hits too close to home for a number of us in here today. Whether it’s an experience similar to Jonny’s and Benjamin’s. It might be the loss of a loved one — a spouse, a mother, a friend. You might have experienced circumstantial difficulties that seem shadowy. Maybe, it’s the heartbreak involving your own children — where life just seems to be pressing in on them. And of course, there are the anxieties involved with a difficult pregnancy and the hopes of delivering children safely from the womb. As your pastor and as your brother in the faith, I know stories like these may sting. But I know a friend, and he knows every moment and weight with your heartbreak. And he’s committed to your story, because your stories are enveloped into his. Because the moon is always round. And that means that God is always good. No matter the circumstance and situation, he is always our God. Because God is good, all the time. Meaning forever and ever, his goodness is unchanging. And yet, all the time, God is good. Meaning in every season and circumstance, he is still good. For as the author of Hebrews reminds us, Jesus is the same yesterday, today, and forevermore.

For as we’ll examine through our passage today, when confusing things happen in life, like Benjamin, like Jonathan, sometimes our vision of Jesus can get clouded. It seems like he might not care, like he’s distant from our problems, like he’s asleep while we’re frazzled. Because it’s not a matter of if when it comes to the storms in life — they will come, and some come aggressively and maliciously. And this has everything to do with what it means to follow Jesus. For these disciples in the boat, for little Benjaminand his dad Jonathan, for you and for me — with our little to great fears that keep us wondering if Jesus is asleep. To these, we heed to the words of St. Augustine — that when the storms overwhelm us, we must learn to awake the sleeping Jesus to assure us. And assure us he will, through his presence and his promises. Or, what George Herbert poetically expresses in the same vein — that Storms are the triumph of his art; though he may close his eyes, yet not his heart. And so, through our time in this passage this morning, it’s my hope that this can serve as a reference point to how to navigate through the storms in life. Because I know that times right now are scary, lonely, anxious, uncertain, or all of the above for some of you in here. But following Jesus is not about avoiding the storms but about enduring through them, and at times, being sent into them. And the greatest treasurein this is that in every circumstance, we will find that Jesus is not only Lord over the storms but that he is Lord in these storms, as he who came into our storms.

This is the first of four miracles in this next succession of passages here in The Gospel of Mark. Just as there were four parables before — (1) The Parable of the Sower, (2) The Parable of the Lampstand, (3) The Parable of the Seed Growing, and (4) The Parable of the Mustard Seed. Now, we have four miracles that follow in these subsequent passages — that Jesus is (1) The Lord over storms, (2) The Lord over demons, (3) The Lord over diseases, and (4) The Lord over death. And J. Vernon McGeesays that these are at the heart of The Gospel of Mark. And as the saying goes, the heart of the matter is the matter of the heart. So, we’ll do a surgical work on this passage that it might do likewise to us.

This story is both my sons’ Jones’ and Rowe’s favorite story in the Bible. And at different points in time, when I asked them each why it was their favorites, they actually both pointed to the exact same thing — which was fascinating to me. And what they were drawn to was the picture in The Jesus Storybook Bible of Peter hanging on for dear life in the middle of the sea and in the middle of the storm. And in the picture, he’s hanging onto a pole, and completely horizontal. And all the while Jesus is getting some serious shut eye, with his hands rested calmly upon his chest. And what they shared was that they found it amusing for Peter to look the way he did, in complete panic. And yet, at the very same time, what piques their curiosity is that Jesus looks very much the opposite.

And it’s an amusing picture recaptured for the entertainment of children. But it certainly wasn’t a laughing matter at the time. The question that the disciples raise here in verse 38 is — Don’t you care?And I don’t know if you have anyone you love who’s said that to you or accused that of you. It hurts, because they’re making an assessment on your investment into their welfare. As a parent, these are some of my least favorite words to hear, because it’s usually the result of me half listening while distracted or looking uninterested in something they’re showing me — whether it’s a bruise or a picture they drew or a story they want to share. It has to do with my lack of attentiveness that they observe with hurt feelings. And as God’s children, we do the same thing, don’t we? We ask our God — Don’t you care? Are your eyes elsewhere? Don’t you care? I asked for answers, but all I’m getting is more questions and uncertainty. And so, here these disciples are feeling like they’re on the brink of death, and they’re asking Jesus — Don’t you care?

You consider the setting of this particular storm, this windstorm in our passage today. It’s at the Sea of Galilee. And you think about what and where the Sea of Galilee was. It wasn’t a particularly large body of water. In fact, what Jesus and his disciples were doing wasn’t something abnormal. Travels were often made from one side to the other, because it was relatively small, stretching about thirteen miles north to south and six miles east to west. And so, the word sea might be a little misleading, which is why Luke, in his Gospel account, calls it the Lake of Genneserat. And what’s also important is that the Sea of Galilee was this compacted body of water that was kind of like a bowl. Around it were these mountains, notably Mount Hermon, which was a little under 10,000 feet above sea level. And this was where these cool airs would descend from. And because the Sea of Galilee is known even today as the lowest freshwater lake in the world and the second lowest lake after the Dead Sea, these cool airs would descend almost a thousand feet below sea level. And so, here was this bowl that mixed together cold air and hot air. And with these extreme mixtures created winds and collisions. Listen to what’s written in an article from Britannica — When two different and extreme air masses come into contact, they don’t mix. But rather, they push against each other along a line called a front. This configuration gives rise to cumulonimbus clouds, often associated with heavy precipitation and storms. And in the words of Tim Keller, this had everything to do with what it means to follow Jesusand to be in nearness to him. That the closer we get to Jesus, we will feel these storms created through extremes. When our weakness meets his strength, when our pride meets his humility, when our filth meets his cleanliness, when our sinfulness meets his holiness, when our needs meet his desires. That if discipleship is about following Jesus and being near to him, then these storms are bound to happen — not just incidentally but intentionally and purposefully. That these storms are for the sake of our formation.

Because you think about why these disciples are here placed into the storm. It’s not that they were put in the storm due to their disobedience — it’s not a punishment. Charles Spurgeon notes here that there’s nothing recorded where they’re deliberately disobeying Jesus. They’re actually just doing what Jesus asked them to do. So, it’s not their disobedience but actually their obedience that leads them into the storm. Because that’s what it means to follow Jesus sometimes. Words that I have to regularly remind myself and share with fellow siblings in the faith who wonder — Why is God putting me through this? Is he punishing me for something I’ve done wrong? The words from Psalm 103:10-12—

    [10] He does not deal with us according to our sins,

        nor repay us according to our iniquities.

    [11] For as high as the heavens are above the earth,

        so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him;

    [12] as far as the east is from the west,

        so far does he remove our transgressions from us.

It’s not disobedience that’s bringing about these storms — it’s actually obedience to Jesus. Because Jesus knows exactly what he’s doing here. For he wasn’t unaware of what’s going to happen. And this wasn’t some kind of navigational mishap. He knew what would happen and what problems would present themselves when their boat would touch the sea. But he brings his disciples through this storm anyway, because there’s something to learn here.

You consider who some of these disciples are and where they are. A good number of them are fishermen, and with the Sea of Galilee being a freshwater lake, this was a place that fishermen frequented due to the number of fish in the sea. And I don’t know what you do when you’re out of sorts, but I’ve found it that I start doing things I know how to do and things I regularly do. I start roasting coffee beans, I start writing prayers, I revisit old sermons that spoke to me, I sit in my favorite Scripture passages. And from there, I slowly find my grounding again. For these disciples, if you recall at the very end of the Gospel of John, when they’re out of sorts after the death of Jesus that they’ve yet to fully comprehend. In their places of being discombobulated, what are they found doing? They’re fishing out at sea — seven of them. And so, fishing and navigating the sea was not just something that they did well, but it was therapeutic for them. It was a place of recalibrating, because it was familiar. And don’t let the evening aspect fool you. We might think of the movie Jaws or some horror in the ocean when we think of night and the sea. But it’s said that fishermen often went to the sea at night, in order to avoid the sun. And that’s not to minimize the dangers and rigors involved with the sea in the middle of the night. And fishing during this time was a rigorous job. Yet, at the very same time, this is familiar territory, and this night journey across the Sea of Galilee was supposedly their realm of expertise.

And so, it’s as they were presumably in control, in an environment that they’re used to, in their wheelhouse and area of strength, where Jesus shatters their self-confidence and brings them to weakness. Because discipleship is not about strength in oneself but it’s about admitting to our weakness and following he who commits to being yoked onto us — not because it serves as an advantage to him but quite the contrary. Because in his being disadvantaged is the only place of salvation for us who are weak and needy. It’s in this place of weakness where these disciples begin to learn about discipleship — that it’s in our helplessness that we learn to call out to Jesus. And what’s the detail we find here? It’s not just that Jesus is asleep on the boat but that he’s asleep on a cushion. And the importance of this detail is not just to say that Jesus found a good resting place. But the cushion was specifically for the seating of passengers. This is where Jesus presumably had all hands off when on the boat with these disciples. Because they perceived themselves to be the masters of their setting. Where they were in control, thinking it was their comfort zone. But when that gets shattered, where they begin to admit to complete helplessness precisely in their places of strength and area of expertise that these disciples learn and teach us what it looks like to follow Jesus. That when we admit to our helplessness, when we let go of our perceived strength, when we acknowledge our destitution and the size of our opponent — that we are no match for the powers of sin and darkness and often times, the storms of this life. There, we place our trust in the one who commits to rescuing his helpless people who feel we are perishing in the storms of life.

Because one of the things we learn through this passage is that contrary to what we’d like to think, being loved by God doesn’t mean that we’re spared from hardship. I think that’s something we’d like to think, when we read words like Psalm 34:18 — The LORD is near to the brokenhearted; he saves the crushed in spirit. And we might falsely conclude that when God draws near, it’s so that he’ll take us outof whatever difficulty we’re in. But that’s not the case. When I was having a particularly difficult time in the middle of the Coronavirus, when I felt drained and emptied, something I heard from someone Judyfirst directed me to — Alia Joy, who blogs and is a Christian writer regarding the topics of depressionand its darker cousin. That our comfort is not that Jesus takes us out of darkness but that he’s willing to sit with us in the darkness. Because nearness to Jesus doesn’t mean that the dark clouds and the storminess of life will disappear. In fact, sometimes, they will intensify, because that’s what it looks like to follow Jesus, our upside down king who calls us into his upside down kingdom. Because him drawing near means that he enters the storm. Where the extremities of God’s perfect justice and our sin, his wrath and our defiance, his holiness and our transgressions. For the place where these things come crashing for the sake of our forgiveness is where the greatest of storms occurred, when the darkness settled over the land when our innocent King was hung on the cross to die for our sins. And so, in the midst of our stormy experiences, it’s there where we are awoken to see what can never be changed, no matter how dark the night or how cloudy our vision — the vision of our King and our captain taking on the storminess of the cross. For there, we not only see Jesus with us in our storms, but we see him taking our ultimate storms in our place. In order to punctuate upon our hearts that in all circumstances, even when the night is dark, when the clouds cover our vision, when the moon is only half lit, that the moon is always round. And that means God is always good. That Christ has died, Christ has risen, and Christ will come again. Nothing can change that fact. Fall into these truths, friends, and find comfort and rest in the unchanging promises given to us in the story of the gospel.