Jesus is the shelter in the storm

Mark 4:35 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!"

A wealthy man wanted to have a painting that captured the ultimate picture of peace. Many artists entered their paintings. They all made noble attempts at putting down on canvass what peace really was. Some featured a mirror-smooth lake. Others featured quiet trees under a soft, evening sky. Still others featured a grassy meadow where a flock of sheep grazed undisturbed.

The winning picture, however, had none of that. On the contrary, it contained elements that were not peaceful at all. An angry waterfall hurled itself down a rocky cliff. Overhead, dark clouds were beginning to explode with lightning, wind and rain. Everywhere in this picture there were signs of danger, menace and trouble.

But there was something else. Near the middle of the picture, a small, frail tree clung to the rocks at the edge of the falls. One of its branches reached out in front of the falls itself. And there, in the elbow of that single branch, a bird had built a nest. Her little ones were asleep; content and undisturbed under the shelter of her wings.

In this life, peace is not the absence of trouble or turmoil. After all, we live in a fallen, broken world, and by nature you and I are fallen, broken people. Unexpected storms, sudden grief and jarring disappointment will be with us until the day we die.

Maybe the winds of adversity are blowing strongly upon your life. Perhaps it is the waves of uncertainty. Maybe it is the endless succession of unresolved problems. Perhaps it is the storm of sickness. Or maybe it is the inevitability that you are crashing upon the shores of death.

And like the disciples in the middle of the storm on the Galilean Sea, we are scared. All seemed lost. There boat was going to capsize and they were all going to drown. And Jesus was sleeping through it all. Only one thought crossed their minds, and eventually made it to their lips, “Jesus, don’t you care!?”

Of course, Jesus cares. He is the One who gives us peace in the storm. He grants us courage and confidence in the midst of the storm. That’s because Jesus is our shelter in the storm.

It was Jesus’ idea to go across the Sea of Galilee that evening. So they loaded Jesus into their little boat and set out on the Sea. A bunch of other boats followed, a rag-tag regatta heading out on the waves as the sun set and the sky turned crimson. As the air cooled, the winds picked up, howling over the hills and blowing like a mighty breath over the water. It was an echo of Genesis 1:3 all over again, when the Spirit of God blew over the swirling, chaotic waters of creation. Or the Exodus, when the breath of God parted the waters of the Red Sea.

But the disciples weren’t thinking theologically or even scripturally. They were thinking, “We’re gonna’ sink.” The waves were swamping over the sides; the disciples were being tossed around. Matthew, accustomed to the firm ground of a tax office under his feet, was probably turning a sickly gray-green color, leaning over the side. Even the fishermen were panicked. “All hands on deck! Start bailing! We’re taking in water! Whose idea was it to go sailing, anyway?”

Their eyes turned to Jesus. There He was in the back of the boat, on the captain’s cushion, out of the way of the real fisherman and experienced sailors, with His arm draped over the rudder, sound asleep. He couldn’t have been more at peace, or more in control. He’s the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. He’s the Word through whom all things were made, and in whom everything in the universe holds together. He’s the Word who told the waters of creation, “This far you may go and no further,” who separated sea and dry land. This storm is no more threatening to Jesus than a Jacuzzi.

So what’s the problem? If the boat goes under, Jesus goes with them. They couldn’t be safer. There was no safer place on the face of the earth than that sinking little boat with a sleeping Jesus at the helm.

But the disciples don’t see it that way. At least not yet. Not in the middle of the storm. They ask, “Don’t you care that we’re drowning?!”

We become afraid, just like the disciples, don’t we? When the economic winds begin to howl and all our safety and security goes overboard. When the waves of broken appliances or broken down vehicles break over the side of the boat, followed by the wave of a job loss, followed by the wave of taking our child to the hospital. When our boat is about to capsize. When the doctors say, “I’m sorry but there’s no more we can do for you.”

And we start to sound like the faithless disciples. As Christians we trust that the Lord is in control. Indeed, there is nothing in this universe that is beyond the scope or vision of the all-knowing God. So in our prayers we wonder why God isn’t using a smidgen of that power to make things better for us. Or we rightly believe that God isn’t going to give us more than we can handle. But then we mutter under the breath of our prayers, “Lord, give me a weaker faith, and then I won’t have to suffer so much.”

It’s easy to trust Jesus when the water is calm, isn’t it? When all is right and well with your life. No winds, no waves, no water coming into your boat. Just a nice leisurely sail with Jesus. More of a cruise, actually. “Jesus, Savior pilot me,” means “Jesus, put wind in my sails so I can take in the scenery, do a little fishing. Jesus and me out on the water. What a great time that would be.”

We trust in God for the “big” things in life: forgiveness, salvation, eternal life. But our trust is shaken and we become ones of “little faith” when the “small” things in life threaten us.  Will we trust Jesus when our lives are threatened, our property is lost or our homeland security breaks down? Will we still trust Him when unexplained illness or cancer or hospice care or death starts pouring over the sides of our life? Will we trust Jesus even when it seems like He’s sleeping and doesn’t appear to be lifting a finger to help us, but is letting us go under into the depths of death? Yes, we panic too, and want to wake Jesus up … forgetting that He neither slumbers nor sleeps.

How are we going to respond in the midst of the storms of suffering, sickness and death? Christian author, C.S. Lewis wrote, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks (to us) in our conscience, and shouts (to us) in our pain. Pain is God's megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” God used the storm to get the disciples’ attention. And God has gotten ours, too.

And now that our attention is focused on Jesus, instead of the storm, we can have disciples’ questions answered. “Don’t you care?” “Who is this?”

“Don’t you care, Jesus?” Of course He cares. He came to earth because we are perishing in our sin, drowning in our death, with a heavy millstone of the Law tied around our necks, pulling us into the deep. He cares all the way to the cross, where He slept in death, bearing our sins. Make no mistake about it, Jesus cares. Compared to His caring on the cross, a little old sinking boat is nothing. Child’s play for the Lord of creation. He rubs the sleep out of His eye, looks around at the wind, the waves, the water, the soggy, frightened disciples. And He says, “Shhh. Be quiet,” the way you might speak to a barking dog. “Be still!” The same word He used to silence the demons, He uses to calm the storm. Peace. Silence. Jesus is the shelter in the storm.

Jesus looks His disciples in the eye. “Why are you so afraid? Don’t you trust me?” He’s asking us the same thing this morning. Why are you so afraid? Why do you live small and fearful lives? Why do you act as though a sleeping Jesus is a useless Jesus, or an invisible Jesus is an absent Jesus? If Jesus single-handedly conquered sin, death, and the Law by dying on the cross, don’t you think He has everything else covered as well?

Because we are sinners living in a sinful, fallen world, storms will arise. But Jesus wants your fear in the midst of the storms. “We should fear, love, and trust in God above all things.” What causes your heart to race; what keeps you up at night. He wants that fear. Don’t fear the wind, the storm, the tumor, the bullet, the burst blood vessel, the grave. Don’t fear what can only destroy the body, but cannot harm the soul. Fear God. Fear the Son of God, for He will swallow up your fear. Who is greater than the Lord?

Mark says the disciples were “filled with fear,” no longer over the storm. Now over Jesus. “Who is this guy, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” He’s the Lord of creation, the Maker of sea and dry land, the creative Word. That’s who He is. And He ought to be feared – and trusted – more than wind and waves and cancers and clogged arteries and terrorists and demons. There’s more power in one little word from Jesus than in all the waves of the Pacific Ocean in a storm.

Jesus awoke from His sleep to silence the storm. Don’t forget that Jesus entered the sleep of death with His Good Friday crucifixion and was placed into the bed of the earth. But it was in that sleep of death that He silenced our greatest fears – sin, death and the devil. When Jesus appears most powerless, most out of it, most unable to do anything constructive, when He’s hanging dead and naked on a wooden cross and all the people are standing around mocking Him and spitting on Him and insulting Him, that’s when He is most powerful to save. His death is our victory over death. It’s the death of the Lord of all, the Word who subdues wind and waves, who takes up our sin and allows Himself be subdued by Death. You are all safe in the death of Jesus who made peace with the world by dying on a cross. Jesus is the shelter in the storm.

God is using His storms and your struggles to toughen you up and strengthen your faith! It’s like viewing a movie after you’ve read the book. When something bad happens, everyone else gasps at the crisis on the screen. Not you. Why? You’ve read the book. You know how the good guy gets out of the tight spot.

God views your life with the same confidence. He’s not only read your story, He wrote it. His perspective is different, and His purpose is clear. One of God’s cures for weak faith? A good, healthy struggle.

You, too, have already read the end of the story. You know how everything is going to eventually turn out. Though the hero or heroine in the story – you – may face crisis or challenges or even be hanging by your fingertips on the side of a cliff – you know that the story ends with you safely at the side of Jesus.

Imagine that you are out there on that stormy sea in the darkness. The wind howls, the waves wash over the side of the boat. You grab on to Jesus and say, “Lord, save us. We’re going to die.” But instead of rebuking the wind and waves, Jesus simply wraps those crucified and risen arms of His around you and says, “Don’t be afraid. It’s finished. You’re baptized into my death. You’re safe. Safer than you could ever imagine. Safe in life and in death. Safe when the winds and waves die down and even when they don’t. I am your shelter in the storm. Just trust me.”

And that’s all you need to hear. Amen.