A Miracle of Meteorology

Jesu Juva

St. Mark 4:35-41                                                

June 23, 2024

Proper 7B     

Dear saints of our Savior~

        A great windstorm arose, and the waves were breaking into the boat, so that the boat was already filling.  Welcome to one of the most “preachable” passages in all the gospels.  It’s got a little something for everyone:  humanity and divinity, wind and waves, fear and faith, and near-calamity climaxing in a great calm.  Even the wind and the sea obey him.

        Such a lively account always makes for a great sermon.  I preach this text at every opportunity.  But I do think that we preachers often move a little too quickly past the most important part—the weather, and our Lord’s ability to control it.  The meteorology matters.  We can talk about the “storms of life” in just a bit.  But let’s not skip over that storm on that night—those winds and those waves—and the weary Savior who nearly slept through it all.

        Atmospheric forces were at work which we can scarcely imagine.  Barometric pressure dropping, deepening low pressure, clashing air masses, updrafts ascending, and downdrafts that turned the Sea of Galilee into a roaring, ravenous monster. 

        But for Jesus, it was no big deal.  He rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace!  Be still!”  And there was a great calm.  What does this mean?  It means first and foremost that Jesus is God.  Jesus is God; and we are not.  All we can do is complain about the weather, or try to predict it.  But Jesus?  Even the wind and the sea obey him. He is God; and we are not.

        I personally would have no problem following a messiah who calls the shots when it comes to weather.  Hey, Jesus, can you do something about the dew point?  Hey, Jesus, do I need to be concerned about this tornado watch?  Hey, Jesus, will the rain hold off for our picnic today?  Even the cold fronts and warm fronts obey Him.  Because He is God.

        Or is He?  Because for much of this harrowing account Jesus isn’t acting very god-like at all.  His humanity is on full display.  Jesus Himself gives the command to set sail in the gathering darkness.  Did He forget to check the forecast?  And this so-called Savior doesn’t make for much of a skipper.  In fact, as the weather started getting rough and the tiny ship was tossed, Jesus was snoozing—snoring in the stern.  A very human thing to do.

        St. Mark, as always, gives us the raw facts—no matter how awkward they may be.  Mark is a truth-telling evangelist.  And the truth is that when the boat starting sinking—when the cry went out, All hands on deck!—Jesus was unresponsive.  And the disciples were not calmly trusting Jesus as King of kings and Lord of lords.  No, those elite, hand-picked apostles were panicking like faithless cowards.

        But St. Mark records all these untidy, unflattering details for your sake—so that you might have hope—so that you might be encouraged, especially when you are flailing, faithless, and fearful.  The question posed by the alarmed apostles is telling:  Teacher, don’t you care?

        Perhaps that prayer or one like it has passed through your lips a time or two.  It’s easy to trust Jesus when your life is smooth sailing.  It’s easy to trust Jesus when your health is good, and when you are universally loved and admired, and the wind is at your back.  But it’s not so easy to trust Him when your life feels like the Edmund Fitzgerald on the big lake they call Gitche Gumee.  Do you trust Him?  Do you trust this Jesus who sleeps through the storm—this Jesus who seems a little too comfortable with chaos?

        But it’s precisely in the chaos that Jesus teaches us who’s in control.  It’s precisely when Jesus seems most distant that we discover Him to be right by our side—a very present help in trouble.  While we crave quick fixes and spectacular special effects, Jesus simply speaks:  Peace!  Be still!  It’s only two words in the Greek.  It was nothing more than what you or I might yell at a barking dog in the middle of the night.  Be still.  But as soon as those words left His lips, the wind ceased and there was a great calm.  Within seconds, roaring, foamy waters became smooth as glass.

        In this miracle everything hinges on the words that Jesus speaks.  His Words get results.  His Words accomplish what He desires.  And those same powerful words of His are preserved right on the very pages of your Bible.  Those same words of His are preached and proclaimed by pastors right from this very pulpit.  When you feel like you are sinking in a sea of chaos, listen—listen to Jesus.  Trust what He says.  Don’t despise preaching and His Word.  Don’t ignore it—but hold it sacred and gladly hear and learn it.

        What are you so afraid of?  Don’t you trust me?  That’s what Jesus asked the Twelve as they marveled at the Savior’s divine power.  Those are good questions for us too:  Why are you so afraid?  Why do you live each day in fear and anxiety?  Why do act like your Savior is sleeping and distant?    Why do you live as if a Jesus you can’t see is a Jesus who can’t help you? 

        If Jesus single-handedly conquered sin and death and Satan by dying on the cross and rising again—if Jesus chose the whip and the thorns and the nails for you—if He was willing to suffer as your substitute under God’s wrath against sin—don’t you think that He also has a plan and a purpose for your life—that He will supply the help you need? 

        It takes faith to believe that.  And that’s why we’re here this morning—to hear the Words and eat the meal designed to strengthen our faith and to forgive our faithlessness.  The same powerful Word that stills the storm is also the Word that forgives all your sins and declares you to be justified in Jesus.  In that Word is your safety—in life and in death—when storms are raging, and when all is calm.

        As that great calm settled over the waters, the disciples were no longer asking, “Teacher, don’t you care?”  That question had now been replaced by a different question:  Who is this guy?  Who is this that even the wind and the sea obey Him?  You know the answer.  He is Jesus the Christ, true God begotten of the Father from eternity, and true man, born of the Virgin Mary—your Lord, our Savior.  No one else can still the storm.  No one else can order around the wind and the sea and have them obey.  Jesus is one of a kind.  Salvation is found in no one else.

        This miracle, like every miracle, is the exception rather than the rule.  There are plenty of ships that go down in the storm—some of them not too far east of here.  Airplanes crash, even with plenty of Christians on board.  Flood waters typically don’t bypass churches as they do their destructive work.  So where is Jesus when all this happens?  Is He asleep at the wheel?  Does He care?

        Beloved in the Lord, today’s miracle teaches that Jesus is right here in the middle of it all.  He is God; and we are not.  But He is not just God; He is God-with-Us—Emmanuel.  God-with-us in the preaching and proclamation of His promises.  God-with-us in the wet, watery waves of Holy Baptism.  God-with-us in the bread that is His body and the wine that is His blood.  Jesus is an ever-present help in times of trouble. 

        As the disciples set sail into those evening waters, they were not alone.  Jesus was with them—in the boat with them.  And right here, in this sacred space, is where Jesus joins you on your earthly journey.  The fact that you’re sitting in the “nave” this morning is no accident.  By design most churches have a “nave.”  And “nave,” well, it’s just the Latin word for “boat.”  Beloved in the Lord, you are in the boat with Jesus.  Jesus is in the boat with you. And there’s just no better place to be.  Bon Voyage!

        In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.