Peace! Be Still!
Sunday, June 25th, 2006
Pentecost 3
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
Mark 4:35-41
Our text this morning picks up where we left off last week – the very next verse. The setting changes, and there are, of course, different events taking place: Jesus is not telling a parable, he is dealing directly with the disciples, you remember, the ones of whom 4 were professional fishermen, familiar with the water they were crossing, accustomed to the unexpected perils that could strike at any time while they were out on the water. And we see them caught in a sudden windstorm; one so bad that even these weathered fishermen tremble alongside the accountant among them in the face of the wind and waves. And what do we find Jesus doing?
Sleeping.
Yeah, he’s sawing logs in the back of the boat on some cushions while everyone else is busy scribbling down their last wills and testaments in the face of their apparently all-too-certain impending death.
A couple of explanations for Jesus’ snoring come to mind. The first is pretty easy. Being a minister means being available – providing presence as much as being present. Let me explain. Say someone is taken to the emergency room. The minister is called, and he or she comes, and sits with the family outside in the waiting room. The church member is in the back, being put through a series of tests, being poked and prodded, given doses of this and that, being asked to give samples of this and that, you know, the usual stuff. At some point the minister makes his or her way back to the bedside. For a brief few minutes the two are able to carry on a conversation, and have a quick word of prayer together; a prayer for comfort, for rest, for peace, and for swiftness in treatment and release. There’s nothing unusual or out of place with the sequence of events, except that the call came at midnight, and minister drove half an hour or an hour to be with the family and at the bedside. That’s an example where being present in a situation provided a sense of the presence of God with the family as well as the member. It is not equating the minister with God, but it is recognizing the fact that in their being present, the ministers serve as a concrete representation of the spiritual reality of God’s presence.
Speaking as one who has received a few of those calls, and please understand, this is not complaining, nor am I limiting it to ordained ministers, I fully realize that these kinds of calls go out to trusted friends and extended family who respond in exactly the same way with exactly the same results, but it can be a very draining experience. The day or two after an event like that can be spent in something of a fog as your body catches up on rest and you try to continue to function as close to normal as possible.
So the first response that comes to mind when Jesus is sleeping in the back of the boat is one we sometimes use with the boys when we look back at them in the back of the van and they are sound asleep: “he’s tuckered out!” Jesus had just finished teaching hundreds if not thousands of people – he’d been healing folks and performing miracles, so I can imagine how worn out he must have been.
I fully believe in the divinity of Christ. I also believe Jesus was fully human, and his body needed rest and food just like the rest of us. There have been times when I’ve been sitting in a waiting room with someone, waiting for the doctor to come in, and have nearly fallen asleep sitting straight up in the chair I was in. There’s a degree of exhaustion beyond which you have little control over what your body is going to do on it’s own in terms of shutting down and resting. As much as you try to will it to remain alert and active, you find yourself nodding off in situations that would otherwise call you to full awake status, Including a storm-tossed boat on the Sea of Galilee.
The other reason is a subtler one, maybe a little harder to define.
For me, there are three places where I can sleep peacefully regardless of when I am there or what might be going on around me. The first is in my own bed. The second and third places are in my parent’s home in Louisville and in the home of my in-laws in Virginia Beach. I realize that as soon as I say that, I am walking into any number of smart-alec jokes come lunchtime, mostly surrounding the phrase ‘why stop there?’, but my point is this: you sleep best where you are comfortable. And that comfort doesn’t always mean a nice bed, or a soft pillow. It means environment. It has to do with feeling safe, with feeling … loved, cared for, watched over.
It’s the same response that I see in babies when they begin going through their immunizations. They are in a strange place, a doctors, office, with nurses and other people who are speaking a language they are not used to hearing, PEOPLE they are not used to SEEING, and suddenly their legs are pierced by these needles, and this stuff is pumped into them that HURTS – and so they do what anyone would do, given the circumstances, they cry!
The nurses, though, are well trained. They know how to give the shots quickly and to move out of the way as quickly as they swooped in. They invariably tell the mommy to pick the child up. And it’s amazing what happens. The place where the injection was given more than likely still stings, and the baby is still unhappy with the surroundings, but almost as soon as they get into their mother’s arms they quiet. They rest their head on mommy’s shoulder and in an astonishingly short time, they fall asleep.
That is, I think, the picture I’d rather keep in my head of Jesus sleeping in the back of the boat in the middle of the storm.
I think Jesus knew of the coming storm – the bigger storm that would ultimately end in his crucifixion, he understood that there were things he had to get done before that time, including crossing the Sea of Galilee to get to Decapolis, an area that was predominantly gentile territory – it was already out of their comfort zone for most of his disciples, and the fear they expressed in the boat in the storm may have been as much for their safety as for their … sense of understanding of how the world was – they had not contemplated the possibility that God might want the gospel shared beyond the borders of their own nation. It would certainly have been a challenge to find someone among them who understood what God’s charge to Israel to be a blessing to the Nations of the World was all about, but Jesus knew. And this crossing of the Sea of Galilee was just a first step in showing the disciples that they were going to be a part of.
What does that mean for Jerusalem Baptist Church at Emmerton?
Jerusalem has certainly weathered storms, as the history of most churches will show, there are storms that assail from the outside and there are storms that rage from the inside. As with the small boat and the few men that were caught in the open on the Sea of Galilee that day, there was a purpose in the journey that perhaps they could not entirely grasp, there is a guide to show the way, both in direction as well as manner.
Not to draw the analogy out too far, but wouldn’t it be wonderful if when we embarked on a perilous-for-our-comfort-zone-trip into a new area to which we sense God’s calling, we had enough peace about it that we would be able to figuratively sleep in the midst of the storm? How many of us have laid awake at night over some issue that has come up here, and fretted and worried and tossed and turned about it?
Jesus’ command, “Peace! Be Still” may not have only been directed at the wind and the waves that day, it may have just as readily been directed to the disciples, and by extension, to us here today.
And in the middle of it all – in the middle of either kind of storm – those from within or those from without – God is telling us, offering us – giving us Peace! Be still – and know that I am God!
Sunday, June 25th, 2006
Pentecost 3
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
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 behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. 37A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. 38 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?” 39 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. 40 He said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” 41 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?”
Our text this morning picks up where we left off last week – the very next verse. The setting changes, and there are, of course, different events taking place: Jesus is not telling a parable, he is dealing directly with the disciples, you remember, the ones of whom 4 were professional fishermen, familiar with the water they were crossing, accustomed to the unexpected perils that could strike at any time while they were out on the water. And we see them caught in a sudden windstorm; one so bad that even these weathered fishermen tremble alongside the accountant among them in the face of the wind and waves. And what do we find Jesus doing?
Sleeping.
Yeah, he’s sawing logs in the back of the boat on some cushions while everyone else is busy scribbling down their last wills and testaments in the face of their apparently all-too-certain impending death.
A couple of explanations for Jesus’ snoring come to mind. The first is pretty easy. Being a minister means being available – providing presence as much as being present. Let me explain. Say someone is taken to the emergency room. The minister is called, and he or she comes, and sits with the family outside in the waiting room. The church member is in the back, being put through a series of tests, being poked and prodded, given doses of this and that, being asked to give samples of this and that, you know, the usual stuff. At some point the minister makes his or her way back to the bedside. For a brief few minutes the two are able to carry on a conversation, and have a quick word of prayer together; a prayer for comfort, for rest, for peace, and for swiftness in treatment and release. There’s nothing unusual or out of place with the sequence of events, except that the call came at midnight, and minister drove half an hour or an hour to be with the family and at the bedside. That’s an example where being present in a situation provided a sense of the presence of God with the family as well as the member. It is not equating the minister with God, but it is recognizing the fact that in their being present, the ministers serve as a concrete representation of the spiritual reality of God’s presence.
Speaking as one who has received a few of those calls, and please understand, this is not complaining, nor am I limiting it to ordained ministers, I fully realize that these kinds of calls go out to trusted friends and extended family who respond in exactly the same way with exactly the same results, but it can be a very draining experience. The day or two after an event like that can be spent in something of a fog as your body catches up on rest and you try to continue to function as close to normal as possible.
So the first response that comes to mind when Jesus is sleeping in the back of the boat is one we sometimes use with the boys when we look back at them in the back of the van and they are sound asleep: “he’s tuckered out!” Jesus had just finished teaching hundreds if not thousands of people – he’d been healing folks and performing miracles, so I can imagine how worn out he must have been.
I fully believe in the divinity of Christ. I also believe Jesus was fully human, and his body needed rest and food just like the rest of us. There have been times when I’ve been sitting in a waiting room with someone, waiting for the doctor to come in, and have nearly fallen asleep sitting straight up in the chair I was in. There’s a degree of exhaustion beyond which you have little control over what your body is going to do on it’s own in terms of shutting down and resting. As much as you try to will it to remain alert and active, you find yourself nodding off in situations that would otherwise call you to full awake status, Including a storm-tossed boat on the Sea of Galilee.
The other reason is a subtler one, maybe a little harder to define.
For me, there are three places where I can sleep peacefully regardless of when I am there or what might be going on around me. The first is in my own bed. The second and third places are in my parent’s home in Louisville and in the home of my in-laws in Virginia Beach. I realize that as soon as I say that, I am walking into any number of smart-alec jokes come lunchtime, mostly surrounding the phrase ‘why stop there?’, but my point is this: you sleep best where you are comfortable. And that comfort doesn’t always mean a nice bed, or a soft pillow. It means environment. It has to do with feeling safe, with feeling … loved, cared for, watched over.
It’s the same response that I see in babies when they begin going through their immunizations. They are in a strange place, a doctors, office, with nurses and other people who are speaking a language they are not used to hearing, PEOPLE they are not used to SEEING, and suddenly their legs are pierced by these needles, and this stuff is pumped into them that HURTS – and so they do what anyone would do, given the circumstances, they cry!
The nurses, though, are well trained. They know how to give the shots quickly and to move out of the way as quickly as they swooped in. They invariably tell the mommy to pick the child up. And it’s amazing what happens. The place where the injection was given more than likely still stings, and the baby is still unhappy with the surroundings, but almost as soon as they get into their mother’s arms they quiet. They rest their head on mommy’s shoulder and in an astonishingly short time, they fall asleep.
That is, I think, the picture I’d rather keep in my head of Jesus sleeping in the back of the boat in the middle of the storm.
I think Jesus knew of the coming storm – the bigger storm that would ultimately end in his crucifixion, he understood that there were things he had to get done before that time, including crossing the Sea of Galilee to get to Decapolis, an area that was predominantly gentile territory – it was already out of their comfort zone for most of his disciples, and the fear they expressed in the boat in the storm may have been as much for their safety as for their … sense of understanding of how the world was – they had not contemplated the possibility that God might want the gospel shared beyond the borders of their own nation. It would certainly have been a challenge to find someone among them who understood what God’s charge to Israel to be a blessing to the Nations of the World was all about, but Jesus knew. And this crossing of the Sea of Galilee was just a first step in showing the disciples that they were going to be a part of.
What does that mean for Jerusalem Baptist Church at Emmerton?
Jerusalem has certainly weathered storms, as the history of most churches will show, there are storms that assail from the outside and there are storms that rage from the inside. As with the small boat and the few men that were caught in the open on the Sea of Galilee that day, there was a purpose in the journey that perhaps they could not entirely grasp, there is a guide to show the way, both in direction as well as manner.
Not to draw the analogy out too far, but wouldn’t it be wonderful if when we embarked on a perilous-for-our-comfort-zone-trip into a new area to which we sense God’s calling, we had enough peace about it that we would be able to figuratively sleep in the midst of the storm? How many of us have laid awake at night over some issue that has come up here, and fretted and worried and tossed and turned about it?
Jesus’ command, “Peace! Be Still” may not have only been directed at the wind and the waves that day, it may have just as readily been directed to the disciples, and by extension, to us here today.
1 God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. 2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change, though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea; 3 though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble with its tumult. Selah 4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy habitation of the Most High. 5 God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved; God will help it when the morning dawns. 6 The nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms totter; he utters his voice, the earth melts. 7 The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah 8 Come, behold the works of the Lord; see what desolations he has brought on the earth. 9 He makes wars cease to the end of the earth; he breaks the bow, and shatters the spear; he burns the shields with fire. 10 “Be still, and know that I am God! I am exalted among the nations, I am exalted in the earth.” 11 The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. SelahThere are images that are not designed to comfort and give peace, to settle the spirit, because they are true to the situation in which we live. To a degree, the Northern Neck has missed SOME of those bullets, but certainly not all of them. I would invite you to read the headlines from this past week’s news to get an idea of how much we are a part of that hectic, hassled, noisy and violent world.
And in the middle of it all – in the middle of either kind of storm – those from within or those from without – God is telling us, offering us – giving us Peace! Be still – and know that I am God!
Let’s pray.
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