The Gospel isn’t meant to be gulped down on Sunday morning, but gnawed on through the week so it really becomes a part of us. You’ve got to work at it, like a dog with a good bone! Here’s the Gospel for this coming Sunday — the Ninth Sunday After Pentecost — with food for thought on the difference between observing and following Jesus — and what it means to live a life of faith in stormy times. Gnaw away!

Mark 4:35-41 – When evening had come, Jesus said to his disciples, “Let us go across to the other side.” And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. 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?” 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. He said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” 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?”

The Backstory – What’s Going On Here?

As we heard Jesus tell parables in the first part of Mark 4, a distinction emerged between the disciples and “the crowd.” The crowd is a character in and of itself in Mark’s Gospel … this is common in Greco-Roman literature (think about “the chorus” in Greek plays). Like the disciples, the crowd is audience and witness. It reacts to Jesus, sometimes embracing him and sometimes turning against him. But in Mark 4, we learn that Jesus has a different relationship to his disciples than with the crowd. He speaks to them differently, as we hear at the end of last Sunday’s reading:

“With many such parables he spoke the word to (the crowd), as they were able to hear it; he did not speak to them without a parable, but privately to his own disciples he explained everything.”

There is a difference between being an observer of Jesus and a follower of Jesus. It is the difference of how much you are going to invest. How much you are willing to put your life in Jesus’ hands. How much you are going to trust. To those who are willing to put their lives in Jesus’ hands, to fully commit themselves to him and be called his disciples, a much greater level of knowledge is available.

In this reading, Jesus reveals something about himself … but he only does it apart from the crowd alone with his disciples. And what the disciples learn is something that Jesus could not just tell them, they had to experience it for themselves. They had to know that their lives were literally in Jesus’ hands for them to discover the power he has.

A few things to chew on:

*Mark’s Gospel makes a curious notation here … and then completely leaves us hanging. It says that the disciples took Jesus in the boat with them, and then makes a point of saying “Other boats were with him.” That’s the last we hear of those other boats. What happened to them? Did they get swamped by the storm? Did they turn back? Did they from a distance see the commotion in Jesus’ boat and see what looked like him calming the storm? Or were they in the middle of their panic and preparing to die when all of a sudden … to their amazement and confusion … the sea calmed, leaving them wondering what in the world happened and looking for a “rational explanation.” What do you think?

*[1]Will Willimon writes this in his commentary on Acts talking about Paul being caught in a storm on the way to Rome. But it applies just as well here:

“People of the ancient world were totally at the mercy of the whims of the natural elements and the vicissitudes of nature. They sought power over their destinies. Perhaps we modern people, who have gained such great control over the forces which once brought havoc to our ancestors, are no longer impressed by stories of the power to calm the waves and to heal the fevered brow. Our physicians and pilots do this every day. We think it is our right to be able to control all of the forces in our world, just like God, and feel terribly hurt, terribly betrayed when we cannot.”

What do you think?

Try This:

Our journey together is a pilgrimage. Pilgrimages are unique journeys. Unlike tourism (where we are consumers of goods, services and experiences) and mission (where we go to change things for the better) in pilgrimages the goal is for us to be changed. Because of this, pilgrimages almost always take us out of our comfort zones. Like the disciples on that boat in the storm, they take us into places where we are afraid — sometimes even for our lives.

For some of us, this is nothing new. For some of us, life is fearful and our comfort zones are small. If that is us, our task is — individually and especially together — to trust in Christ in the midst of the storm.

For some of us, venturing out of the comfort zone is choice. Because of the privilege we have, we can choose to stay on the shore. If that is us, our task — individually and together – is to get into the boat and venture into stormy seas,

This week, take a few minutes at the beginning of each day and … as your life is already stormy and out of control … ask Christ to be with you and to help you trust Christ more. And as your life is feeling pretty calm and safe … ask Christ to guide you into the storm, into that place where you are so out of your comfort zone that fear begins to well up in your heart … because that is the place where pilgrimage happens. That is the place where we become the Body of Christ.

Trust me.

“Learning to trust is one of life’s most difficult task” – Isaac Watts

Trust is hard. It has to be earned. It can easily be betrayed. And once it has been betrayed, even once, it is that much harder for us to trust or be trusted again.

Our lives are full of people asking for our trust only to come up wanting — politicians and ad executives, parents and children alike.

Particularly if we have been burned before, “Trust me” is often the last thing we want to hear.

I’m not sure life was too different in the first century, either.

“Don’t you care? Don’t you care that we are perishing?”

That’s the cry of the disciples in the boat. It is a cry not just of panic over impending death, but of incredulity at a sleeping Jesus in the midst of it and, even more, the pain of betrayal. They trusted him … and now look what’s happening!

“This one whom we left everything to follow, who said he loved us and make us ‘fishers of people’ … he is just going to let us die?

“Is Jesus one more person in whom we put our trust who has yet again disappointed us?”

It’s interesting to note that Jesus doesn’t answer their question. Instead, Jesus renders it irrelevant.

Jesus doesn’t say, “Yes, I care.”

Jesus doesn’t even say, “You’re not dying.”

Instead he creates a place of calm.

He says “Peace. Be still.”

He calms wind and shows he is more powerful than that which they feared.

Jesus doesn’t argue with them. He proves himself trustworthy.

But Jesus isn’t done. He turns to his disciples and his response isn’t the soothing reassurance of a mother to a scared child. No way. It is rebuking! “Come on! See the big picture! Have some perspective!”

“Will you trust me already!?!?”

Jesus does not want to affirm and reassure the disciples in their fear. Jesus wants to lead them into fearlessness.

You would think the disciples would be there by now. After all, they had left everything to follow Jesus. You would think that would be enough trust, wouldn’t you? But as so often happens, when the storms blow up, they — like we — revert to our default. We forget. And we fear.

Trust is hard. It has to be earned. And Jesus knows this. That’s why Jesus stays calm … and stays with the disciples. His plea of “have you still no faith?” shows a little exasperation on his part, but his patience is far from exhausted. His capacity to stay with us in peace and calm and love will outlast our penchant for fear and mistrust.

We are not called to avoid the storms. We are called to sail right into the teeth of them. The storms are where anything that is worth anything happens.

What we are called to do is to trust. To trust God, to trust Jesus and to trust one another.

What we are called to do is to trust that the story is nothing compared to the power of a God who loves us beyond measure and to whom even the power of death is something to be brushed away like a bead of sweat off our forehead.

We are not called to avoid the storms. We are called to sail into them together … and know that Jesus is with us. And know that is all that matters.

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Check out the rest of Sunday’s readings

The Lectionary Page has all of the readings for this Sunday and every Sunday – just click here

Collect for Sunday

Pray this throughout the week as you gnaw on this Gospel.

O Lord, make us have perpetual love and reverence for your holy Name, for
you never fail to help and govern those whom you have set upon the sure
foundation of your lovingkindness; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives
and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Want to read more?
“The Text This Week” is an excellent online resource for anyone who wants to dive more deeply into the scriptures for the week.
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References

1. http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B005THAI9W/ref=docs-os-doi_0