Monday, July 30, 2012

He Makes the Impossible Possible


The Ninth sunday after pentecost (vogel/jones installation)

Shepherd of the Hills Ev. Lutheran Church (WELS)

Mark 10:17-27

17 As Jesus started on his way, a man ran up to him and fell on his knees before him. “Good teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” 18 “Why do you call me good?” Jesus answered. “No one is good—except God alone. 19 You know the commandments: ‘You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, you shall not defraud, honor your father and mother.’” 20 “Teacher,” he declared, “all these I have kept since I was a boy.” 21 Jesus looked at him and loved him. “One thing you lack,” he said. “Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”

22 At this the man’s face fell. He went away sad, because he had great wealth. 23 Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God!” 24 The disciples were amazed at his words. But Jesus said again, “Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! 25 It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” 26 The disciples were even more amazed, and said to each other, “Who then can be saved?” 27 Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God.”

He had poured his heart and soul into the project his boss assigned him.  He sacrificed time with his family, to the point that his relationship with his wife had become quite strained, and his children would hardly catch a glimpse of him over the course of each week.  Long and late hours at the office had become the norm.  He had done his research.  He had consulted experts in various fields.  He had received positive feedback from others throughout the duration of the project.  As the deadline approached, he was on track to have everything completed and ready to present.

But when the moment of truth arrived, he was dealt a horrible blow: his boss rejected it.  Impressive as it might have been to others, it was missing a certain element that the boss had determined was too crucial, too essential to be without.  He was asked to scrap the whole thing and start again, approaching the project from another angle.  He was absolutely crushed.  He was convinced he had put together something pretty special, something that would knock his boss’s socks off.  He didn’t think it was merely “good enough”; he thought it was above and beyond what was expected.  He was devastated.

So it was with the young man who visited Jesus.  He thought he had all his ducks in a row.  He had made great effort to carry out what he thought was necessary for eternal life.  He had researched, he had studied, he had lived as he thought he should live.  Now it was just a matter of seeking approval.  He was fairly confident, but in the event that he had missed or overlooked something, he wanted to approach a respected rabbi just to be sure. 

It must have initially been refreshing to hear the “to-do” list Jesus gave the man, a list which he was (overly) confident he had kept carefully ever since he was a young boy.  He assured Jesus, “all these I have kept since I was a boy” (v.20).  And then he got hit by a freight truck with Jesus at the wheel when Jesus told him, “One thing you lack. Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me” (v.21).  He was crushed.  He was devastated.  He thought he had put together the perfect project of a righteous life, only to find out it was a failure, a bust.  Knowing what a tall order it was that Jesus had just given him, to go and sell it all and give it away, the man went away dejected.

Equally shocked were the disciples, who, after hearing Jesus say how hard it was for the rich to enter the kingdom of God, must have thought to themselves, “if this guy, who has led a virtually flawless life can’t get in, then what hope do we have?”  After all, the implication of Jesus’ words, “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God!” (v.23), was that the young man didn’t cut it; he wouldn’t get into heaven the ways things currently stood.  They were shocked.  They were astonished.

Jesus gave them hope. He said, “With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God” (v.27).  Our Sky VBS theme said it this way: “Everything is possible with God.”  Last week the words gave confidence to all the VBS children that they could trust God.  Each day of the week that theme was underscored in a different way: no matter who you are… no matter how you feel… no matter what people do… no matter what happens… no matter where you are, trust God.  We emphasized that we can trust God because he keeps his promises, just as he did in sending Jesus.  “Everything is possible with God.”  Those words also undoubtedly brought peace to Jesus’ disciples.  They were worried about their salvation, about their eternal life.  It had been brought into question and they weren’t so certain they were able to be saved.  Jesus calmed their nerves by reminding them that God Makes the Impossible Possible.

“Everything is possible with God.”  Those words bring no small amount of comfort and hope to Christians.  But they also pose a potential danger if taken out of context or if the emphasis is misplaced.  Misused, they can become relegated to nothing more than the Christian’s lucky charm.  A person can emphasize the “everything” and draw the conclusion that the sky’s the limit, so long as a person is a Christian.  He can do anything, because God can do anything.  You want to be a successful businessman?  It doesn’t matter if you have no business acumen whatsoever, because “everything is possible with God.”  You want to get into a prestigious university?  It doesn’t matter if you aren’t the sharpest tool in the shed, because “everything is possible with God.”  You want to play in the NBA?  It doesn’t matter if you can’t walk and chew gum at the same time, because “everything is possible with God.”

Then what happens when the business fails, the university application is rejected, and you’re cut from the high school basketball team?  One of two things: the conclusion is drawn that you must not have trusted God enough, because after all, everything is possible with God.  If you conclude you didn’t trust enough, then you end up spiraling into despair and lamenting that you’re such a weak Christian.  You may even begin to wonder if you deserve to be called a Christian at all.  With that conclusion, Satan has successfully shifted the Christian’s focus from the cross onto self.  The other conclusion that may be drawn is this: you conclude that it’s God’s fault, and he is supposed to take the fall for your failure, as if he needs to answer to you when this or that doesn’t pan out.

Those being installed, this promise can even be misused in the classroom.  A teacher who expects a student with C gifts to be getting A’s, even though he’s trying as hard as he can, may be emphasizing “everything is possible with God” in the wrong way.  A teacher who skips classroom preparation because “God can get it done either way” is not trusting, but testing, and is abusing these words of comfort.

But the grossest misuse of this promise of God is to misuse them in the realm of salvation. Some apply these words to salvation, but rob them of any comfort, reasoning that all God has done is made salvation possible, but that it is still necessary for us to do our part to make it certain.  “Yes” they agree, “Jesus has made it possible to acquire life eternal, but we still have to do the work.  To make sure we’re saved, we must live rightly in obedience to God, in order to make it through the door into heaven that Jesus opened for us.” Such an understanding cheapens grace, nullifies the cross, and makes a joke of Jesus.  What could be more offensive to God than that?

No, to rightly understand these words is to let them remain in the proper context.  Jesus was speaking with the young man about his salvation.  When the disciples had drawn the conclusion that it was impossible for anyone to be saved, Jesus spoke these words to emphasize that God makes the impossible possible.  Even when it seemed to the disciples that the young man’s situation was hopeless, that their situation was hopeless, and that yes, all people’s situations were hopeless, Jesus told them that nothing was impossible with God.  And the focus of that statement needs to be and remain on the God part, not the “everything” part.  Yes, God can do all things, but Jesus’ point was that God can do salvation.  God makes the impossible possible.

Who would know that better than Jesus, who himself would be the means by which God made salvation possible?  For the rich man, salvation seemed impossible because he couldn’t let go of his wealth and replace that love with a love for God above all. But God made the impossible possible.  Jesus looked at man – and this is no small detail that Mark shares – “and loved him” (v.21).  God loved man enough to pull the impossible.  He sent a Savior.  Everything is possible with God.  Death has been swallowed up and rendered powerless.  Everything is possible with God.  We are no longer slaves to sin and Satan.  Everything is possible with God.  Forgiven in Christ, we have an inheritance in heaven that awaits us, one that it would be impossible for us ever to attain on our own.  Everything is possible with God.

The story is told of a poor woman who looked longingly at the beautiful flowers in the king’s garden.  Her daughter was sick, and she hoped to buy some of the flowers for her.  The king’s gardener refused, rather rudely informing her that the king’s flowers were most certainly not for sale.  At that same moment, the king himself came by, plucked a bouquet of flowers and gave them to the woman.  “It is true” he said, “that the king does not sell his flowers; but he does give them away.”  So, too, our Great King does not sell eternal life.  He gives it.   If it were for sale we would be helpless to purchase it.  But since he gives it freely, by faith we can receive it.  Were it up to us, salvation would have been impossible, but God makes the impossible possible.  He makes eternal life a reality for all who believe. 

Our congregation exists to proclaim that very message.  Our school is one of the ways we communicate it.  Tim and Mary, as you are installed to teach at Shepherd of the Hills, you have been called to teach about the gracious God who made the impossible possible.  You have the joyful privilege not just of educating young minds, but of transforming hearts and lives as Jesus and his salvation shines brightly in everything you teach.  Yes, you will prepare young people academically.  You will prepare them socially.  But more than anything, you will prepare them spiritually.  It’s why we exist, and there’s nothing more important, in our world today as much as ever, than Jesus and the gift of eternal life he offers to all.  May God richly bless you as you faithfully teach Jesus, through whom God makes the impossible possible. Amen.
“For the freer confidence is from one’s own works, and the more exclusively it is directed toward Christ alone, so much better is the Christian it makes.” (Luther)

Thursday, July 19, 2012

"Absurdities" of Christ


The sixth sunday after pentecost

Shepherd of the Hills Ev. Lutheran Church (WELS)

Mark 5:21-24a, 35-43

21 When Jesus had again crossed over by boat to the other side of the lake, a large crowd gathered around him while he was by the lake. 22 Then one of the synagogue leaders, named Jairus, came, and when he saw Jesus, he fell at his feet. 23 He pleaded earnestly with him, “My little daughter is dying. Please come and put your hands on her so that she will be healed and live.” 24 So Jesus went with him.

35 While Jesus was still speaking, some people came from the house of Jairus, the synagogue leader. “Your daughter is dead,” they said. “Why bother the teacher anymore?” 36 Overhearing what they said, Jesus told him, “Don’t be afraid; just believe.”
37 He did not let anyone follow him except Peter, James and John the brother of James. 38 When they came to the home of the synagogue leader, Jesus saw a commotion, with people crying and wailing loudly. 39 He went in and said to them, “Why all this commotion and wailing? The child is not dead but asleep.” 40 But they laughed at him.

After he put them all out, he took the child’s father and mother and the disciples who were with him, and went in where the child was. 41 He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha koum!” (which means “Little girl, I say to you, get up!”). 42 Immediately the girl stood up and began to walk around (she was twelve years old). At this they were completely astonished. 43 He gave strict orders not to let anyone know about this, and told them to give her something to eat. (NIV)

You don’t have to know much about the background of the synagogue ruler named Jairus to recognize that he loved his only daughter with a father’s heart.  It is quite clear that he treasured his sweet little girl and dreaded the possibility of losing her.  Death was near for her.  We don’t know how long it had been looming.  We don’t know if there had been other trips to numerous physicians or if the family was up to its ears in doctor bills.  We just know that a father loved his daughter, and he shuttered to think about life without his little girl, so he did what we wish all would do when faced with hardship… 

… he went to Jesus.  Really, it was an uncommon course of action for a man of his position, as most associated with the synagogue – especially on overseer – did not look favorably on Jesus.  Nevertheless, Mark tells us, “Seeing Jesus, he fell at his feet and pleaded earnestly with him, ‘My little daughter is dying. Please come and put your hands on her so that she will be healed and live” (v.22,23).  Word traveled quickly when Jesus was near, and his ability to make well was no secret.  Jairus, knowing this, humbly dropped before Jesus and begged him to heal his little girl, knowing that even just his touch would be sufficient to make her well.  This was not a man who had run out of options or was resorting to his last hope with nowhere else to turn; rather, this was a man who fully trusted that Jesus had the ability to completely restore his daughter’s health and extend his time on earth with her father.  Jesus’ reaction to his request filled him with hope, for Jesus didn’t refuse him.  Mark tells us, “Jesus went with him (v.24).

But then things went from bad to worse.  Jairus’ worst fear was realized when some from his house came to meet him prior to his return “Your daughter is dead” they said. “Why bother the teacher anymore?” (v.35).  The implication was that it was too late.  They hadn’t made it in time.  Healing the sick is one thing, but now Jairus’ daughter was beyond help.  Now she was dead, and there was quite obviously nothing that could be done.

How does Jesus respond?  Was Jairus’ daughter now a lost cause?  Were they too late?  Does Jesus suddenly now have more pressing matters to deal with at the moment?  Or, does he wave his hand or put on an elaborate, attention-getting display for all to see, or prescribe for the synagogue ruler some ritual or set of steps on which to follow through to make her well?  How does Jesus respond?

“Ignoring what they said, Jesus told the synagogue ruler, ‘Don’t be afraid; just believe’” (v.36).  Really?  That’s it?  “Just believe?”  Believe what?  That they weren’t really too late?  That Jesus could still help her?  No disrespect to Jesus, but didn’t Jairus already believe?  Isn’t that why he came to Jesus in the first place?  He did believe, but now it appeared as if that belief was wasted and they were too late.  One could almost imagine the messengers’ skeptical reactions in their minds: “Just believe?  Umm, didn’t he just hear us say that she was dead?”

As if that wasn’t bad enough, then they arrive at the home, amidst all the weeping and wailing, which was the custom for days in that culture, and Jesus gives the skeptics more ammunition.  “Why all this commotion and wailing? The child is not dead but asleep” (v.39).  Some must have been insulted, being quite confident in themselves that they knew a dead person when they saw one.  One hardly confuses sleep with death.  The reaction of those gathered there was disbelief at Jesus’ words, shown clearly by the fact that “they laughed at him” (v.40) after he had made what was considered his second absurd statement that she was merely sleeping.

If that was the reaction of those present then, we should not be surprised to find the same reaction today, to an even greater degree.  “Just believe.” “The child is not dead but asleep.”  How would the world today welcome such an outlook?  As utter absurdity. 

Today’s experts – and it’s so obvious that our world is full of them if you just ask them – would be quick to point out that there’s no evidence (the Bible doesn’t count!) that the simple act of believing has ever changed a single thing over the course of history.  Empirical evidence reigns supreme.  Proven facts are what matter.  Hard data paves the path to discovery and solving the world’s problems.  These things are what matter – not pie-in-the-sky or head-in-the-sand “believing.”  Of course the irony is that when science and every other avenue fail, then and only then is it acceptable to fall back on the old “just believe.”  But for the most part, believing is something reserved for those simple-minded, uninformed and uneducated Christians.  Believing is a waste of time.

Sad part is, that viewpoint has had a tendency to influence and undermine our own, leading us to sinfully second-guess the real and tangible benefits of believing or trusting in God and his promises.  After all, I believed God could make my sick friend or relative better.  He didn’t.  I believed God was clearly directing me to make the right decisions and follow the right paths in life, but having to pick up all the pieces of one train wreck after another would sure seem to indicate it was a mistake to believe that he was actually directing anything.  I believed God would provide me with a job.  He hasn’t.  I believed God had led me to “Mr. Right.”  He couldn’t have been more wrong.  Lately it would appear that God’s track record of validating my belief in him is not so great. “Just believe?”  Seems kind of absurd after all.

Of course, if “just believe” is absurd, then we don’t really need to bother spending all that much time on Jesus’ other absurdity, “the child is not dead, but asleep.”  A world that already scoffs at belief will do the same at silly talk of “sleep” instead of death.  No breathing, no pulse, no measurable brain activity – these are not signs of sleep, but unmistakable indicators of death.  To confuse the two, sleep and death, well, that’s just absurd.

But the instant that little girl shot up out of bed, absurdity simply went out the window.  Others had been so sure that she was dead.  They had been convinced.  Then, when she was up walking around, when she was eating real food, then they must have second-guessed themselves.  They must have wondered if they had been mistaken after all, and maybe the little girl hadn’t really been dead.  Maybe she was just asleep.  Or maybe Jesus’ second statement wasn’t so absurd.  For that matter, maybe his first statement wasn’t all that absurd: “just believe.”  See how the miraculous changes things!  See how what once was impossible has suddenly become quite plausible?  See how seeds of belief were being sown so that the unbeliever started to wonder if Jesus’ words are true, if “just believe” and “not dead but asleep” actually had some teeth to them?

We all start that way, as doubters and skeptics, that is.  But then the seeds of belief are planted.  The Holy Spirit does what only the Holy Spirit can do, and we’re led to start wondering, “what if?”  What if the vast array that is the universe truly was created in 6 twenty-four hour days?  What if a scheming serpent spoke and deceived the first man and the first woman, and the unfathomable, the incomprehensible, inexcusable travesties that occur on a daily basis in our world really are the result of sin?  What if the virgin Mary was actually a virgin?  What if the Christmas story isn’t actually a story at all, but factual history?  What if the miracles of Jesus are all legit – every last one of them, including this one?  What if all if it turned out to be, well, not so absurd after all?

Then, dear friend, it is but a small step to believe the biggest wonder of all – what if I really am forgiven because the blood of Jesus truly covers my every last sin, including, but by no means limited to, the sins of questioning whether my own belief in him was a waste of time!?  Suddenly there is a shift.  It is no more, “what if,” but “most certainly!”  “It is finished!” means my work of redemption has been carried out.  Jesus’ Resurrection means there is life for me after death.  God’s blessed declaration of “not guilty” means I am not guilty.  His promise of reconciliation means our perfect relationship with God has been restored in Christ.  His own hand has signed my name in his Book of Life, in the permanent ink of Christ’s blood.  All of it is no longer, “what if,” but “most certainly,” just as the skeptics at the house of Jairus could not deny that their eyes were seeing his daughter alive and well.

We too are alive and well, spiritually speaking, because of Jesus Christ.  It is not absurd at all.  He made every promise and he was the one to carry out every promise.  Just believe… that a splash of water accompanied by the almighty Word of God should save a person from damnation… that a sip of wine and a meager wafer should be bound in, with, and under Christ’s blood and his body for forgiveness – these things are not absurd; they are grace.  And it is grace that has opened our eyes of faith to see it and believe.

Jesus Christ came into the picture and made a statement like, “The child is not dead but asleep” not at all absurd.  He came into our lives and salvaged us from sin, extending to us the invitation: just believe.  At first it was too easy, too simple, too far-fetched.  But then the Holy Spirit worked in me and now it is the greatest comfort to me in all the world.  I am his and he is mine, for no other reason than that his grace has led me to believe it.  It is enough, dear Christian, to just believe. Amen.

“For the freer confidence is from one’s own works, and the more exclusively it is directed toward Christ alone, so much better is the Christian it makes.” (Luther)

Thursday, July 5, 2012

"I'm Spiritual, I'm Just Not Religious." Spare Me.

It has the same effect on me as the word "Irregardless" (an illogical word) or the phrase "I could care less" (so you're saying you do care?).

You've likely heard it yourself.  Or, maybe you've even said it yourself: "I'm spiritual, I'm just not religious."

Spare me.

Frankly, the statement makes me just a little bit sick to my stomach when I hear it. 

You see, I think it's a cop out.  The impression I get when I hear the statement is that the one speaking it lacks backbone.  He wants to appease both the unbeliever and the believer at the same time.  To the unbeliever he says, "Sure, I'm a Christian, but it's not like I'm one of those wacky fundies who quotes Scripture all the time and goes to church every Sunday."  Then he speaks out of the other side of his mouth to the Christian, saying, "Society sure is going down the tubes because of all those godless heathens.  It sure is great to be a Christian."  The problem is, we can't have it both ways. 

Jesus said, "All men will hate you because of me" (Mark 13:13).  So why bother trying to compromise?  Pick a side and stick with it.  You're either committed to a great deal of cross-bearing as a Christian, or you're a lukewarm wanna-be who's looking at getting spit out.

"I'm spiritual, I'm just not religious."  It's kind of like me saying, "I love dessert.  I just don't ever eat it." I do love dessert.  Few things on this earth make me as happy as peanut butter and chocolate.  But one would have to question how much I really love dessert if I never ate it (barring legitimate reasons, of course... assuming a legitimate reason for not enjoying dessert actually exists).

According to the Bible, Christians rejoice at the prospect of going to church, which I suspect is at least in part what people mean to avoid when they claim they're not religious.  A Christian who doesn't relish the opportunity to be in church regularly to hear of the good news of free salvation in Christ Jesus???  "I love dessert.  I just don't ever eat it." 

Now maybe a person claims he's not religious because he's turned off by "organized religion" or claims "the church is full of hypocrites" (to the latter excuse, I had a professor whose response was, "There's always room for one more.").  I will grant you that Christian congregations have messed up - inexcusably at times - and also that they will continue to.  I will also grant that there are indeed hypocrites within the church (just as there are outside of it), but are these reasons enough to stop eating dessert?  I can assure you that if I ever meet a dessert I don't like, I won't swear off desserts altogether.  Why would the Christian swear off the rich blessings of gathering together with other Christians at a local congregation just because he had a bad experience at one?  Wouldn't it make more sense to search for another congregation that adheres faithfully to the Bible, and keep indulging in the rich fare of the Jesus and his forgiveness, rather than assuming that all Christian congregations are suddenly a waste of time?

It certainly would seem to be worth the effort.  That is, if you really like dessert.

Monday, July 2, 2012

Christ Came to Calm


The Fifth sunday after pentecost

Shepherd of the Hills Ev. Lutheran Church (WELS)

Mark 4:35-41

35 That day when evening came, he said to his disciples, “Let us go over to the other side.” 36 Leaving the crowd behind, they took him along, just as he was, in the boat. There were also other boats with him. 37 A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped. 38 Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke him and said to him, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?” 39 He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm. 40 He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?” 41 They were terrified and asked each other, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!” (NIV)

It’s thought of as being one of the most deadly professions out there.  Watch an episode of the Discovery Channel’s Deadliest Catch, and you’ll know why.  Captain and crew alike risk their lives aboard fishing boats in Alaska’s Bering Sea in order to bring home a prized catch of king and snow crab.  Together with the potentially fatal hazards of just being on deck and operating the necessary equipment, the brutal weather and the treacherous conditions of the sea pose daily threats to life and limb.  The number of fatalities that occur in this line of work make it as risky as any other.  It makes for some fascinating viewing, but I don’t know that I have much of a desire to ever be aboard any of those vessels.

It appears that a number of disciples felt the same way on the Sea of Galilee on the occasion detailed in this morning’s Gospel.  They undoubtedly would have preferred to have been watching safely from shore, rather than scrambling for their lives on a boat quickly caught up in an unrelenting squall.  So furious was this sudden storm, not uncommon at all on the Sea of Galilee, that the boat was filling up fast with water “so that it was nearly swamped” (v.37).  To downplay the gravity of the situation is to ignore that there were seasoned veterans aboard the boat, men whose entire livelihoods were spent at sea as fishermen.  They’d been in sticky situations before.  They’d weathered storms.  But this was bad, so bad that they were at their wits’ end, terrified and running out of options quickly.  They were desperate for help, so desperate in fact that the fishermen turned to the carpenter for help.

And where was the carpenter to be found?  “Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion” (v.38).  Now skeptics of the Bible draw one of two conclusions at this point: 1) if Jesus was able to sleep through it, then the storm could not have been all that serious, or 2) Jesus wasn’t actually asleep.  In response to that, one has to wonder if such skeptics have ever put in a hard day of work.  If so, they’d know from experience that the human body, when exhausted, has little trouble getting the sleep it needs.  It’s not hard to imagine how weary and worn out Jesus must have been after giving of himself teaching the crowds, which certainly has at least a little to do with why they got into the boat in the first place – to take a break.  Finally, if Jesus had in mind all along to use this event as an opportunity to build up his disciples, and his sleeping was a necessary part of it, then we have no problem taking Mark at face value and believing that Jesus was asleep.  Jesus was, after all, a human being, and human beings get tired.

But Jesus was more than just a man, as he was about to show, which made their question of him all the more insulting.  They didn’t just ask the Son of Man, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?” (v.38), they also asked the Son of God.  The implication of that question was either that Jesus didn’t care, or that he wasn’t able to do anything about it.  What Jesus did next clearly proved the disciples wrong on both counts – he did care, and he was able to do something about it.

With a stern rebuke, Jesus brought the chaos swirling around them to an abrupt end.  He calmed the storm. The violent winds and the raging waves were stilled by his spoken words.  How many times have we witnessed footage of unrelenting natural disasters?  How many times in all that footage have you seen one person be able to do a single thing to somehow restrain nature?  Never.  The best we can do is be able to predict or warn when some natural disaster is about to happen so that we can evacuate or properly prepare.  With all our science and technology and brilliance, we cannot divert or put a stop to so much as a harmless light rain shower, even for a moment.  But Jesus demonstrated his divine power over nature by merely mouthing the words “Quiet! Be still.”

Jesus’ human nature was evident – he was tired, and so he slept in the boat.  His divine nature was evident as well - he tamed the untamable wind and waves.  When we see Jesus exert his divine power in performing miracles, it has nothing to do with him wanting to woo the crowds or wow his disciples; rather, his divine power attests to something much more significant: he has the divine power necessary to save.  Why is that divine power needed to save?  Jesus reminded us in his rebuke, not of the wind and waves, but in his rebuke of the disciples.

After he brought about a complete calm in the midst of chaos by his rebuke of the wind and waves, Jesus then rebuked his disciples: “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?” (v.40).  Think about how tied together those two questions are.  Isn’t the one going to naturally follow the other?  The second question essentially serves as the answer to the first – you’re so afraid because you have no faith.  Isn’t that what is really at the core of being afraid?  Isn’t it a lack of faith?

Now take that a step further.  We rejoice that salvation is a gift received freely by faith.  Yet even our faith, which does nothing but receive that gift, would be completely inadequate if it were not for the divine power necessary to sustain that faith.  Faith alone saves, but even faith itself, if left up to us would falter and fizzle.  We need that divine Savior.  We need the one who controlled the storm on Galilee to control the chaos that would otherwise reign in our hearts and choke out any faith.  Man is inadequate on his own.  We need the divine.  We need Jesus.

We’re guilty of that same lack of faith, that same fear that caused the disciples to be seen by Jesus as cowards.  We are adrift at sea with our problems and troubles, and because they’re beyond our control, like the disciples, we ask, “Don’t you care, God?  Can’t you do something about my lack of income?  Can’t you fix my relationship?  Can’t you this?  Can’t you that?  Don’t you care???”

Eventually, it usually becomes clear, though it can take a while because we’re slow learners.  At some point we finally recognize that sometimes God allows the turbulence in life to happen so that we regain the proper perspective on how much God cares, ironically enough.  God does care, but he cares about something with the potential to do much more damage than mere worldly troubles or inconveniences; he cares about our sin.  He cares about our sin because that is the only thing that stands to separate us from him for eternity.  

“Don’t you care?”  What an insult to God!  How dare we ask such a question of the Creator. No one cares more.  The evidence overwhelmingly supports it – had he not cared, Jesus wouldn’t have given up holy heaven for the enticement-filled earth.  Had he not cared, the Father wouldn’t have allowed his own Son to be tempted and tormented by the devil in the desert.  Had he not cared, the Father wouldn’t have exposed his Son to the ridicule and the constant challenges from his enemies.  Had he not cared, his only Son wouldn’t have been beaten and bruised and bloodied.  Had he not cared, he would not have given up his own Son to die in our place.  Yes, God cares.  More than anyone, God cares.

He cares, and that is why Jesus came.  He came to calm, not to calm nature when it becomes unruly, but to calm hearts troubled by guilt and sin.  No one on earth knows your sin better than you do, but there is one in heaven who does.  And he knows your sin because he willingly faced it head on in order to forgive it.  Your fickle faith and your unfounded fears and even your fist-shaking at God – all of it has been forgiven.  Christ came to calm.

Now we might ask why, if Christ came to calm, were the disciples so terrified after this miracle?  Mark records, “They were terrified and asked each other, ‘Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!’” (v.41).  It doesn’t seem like they were very calm at all!  Indeed, having just witnessed what they did, how can there be any reaction but great fear?  How on earth could they hope to stand in the presence of one so powerful to be able to do what Jesus just did?  And, on top of it, just moments ago they had accused him with their “Don’t you care?”  How they must have regretted being so brazen with one who held so much power in even just the words from his mouth!

But how it changes things to recognize that such almighty power is not aimed at or directed against us, but is directed against the devil and against all who oppose the One who himself is the Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier.  That is the very power that was unleashed on the devil to crush him and overturn his wicked work.  It was that power that took the sting out of death.  It is that power by which we are kept safe and secure in the one true faith.

That power exerted by Jesus on that lake on that day is the power that goes with you when you leave here.  It is power to protect you from physical harm. It is power to heal you from injury and sickness.  It is power to rescue you from physical death. And we should not look on such power lightly, for it is at our disposal each and every time we approach God in prayer.

That power is also the power to provide us with peace.  The devil tries to stir up the waters all around us, but in Christ our ship sets sail on the smooth, glassy, mirror-like waters that he has laid out for us, where nothing but tranquility and serenity abound.  So it is in our hearts.  So it is because our ship is called grace, and where there is grace, there is no fear or worry, for Christ came to calm.  Amen.

“For the freer confidence is from one’s own works, and the more exclusively it is directed toward Christ alone, so much better is the Christian it makes.” (Luther)