No wait. There's more to it than that. There's always more to it than that. The story, if you look at it, is always bigger than it first appears. In this case, what we're looking at is Jesus in the boat, having a nap while a storm rages on outside. What you need to know about this story is that the disciples are ostensibly good sailors, or at the very least capable ones. Or at the very least, better than you. I've never been out at sea during a storm, especially not in a tiny boat, so I wouldn't even know what to do. I'd panic, and I've got things like life jackets, outboard motors, and all that noise. Of course, if we didn't have all that, then being out at sea would be a daunting prospect if it starts to get dark, and the wind and the waves start up.
It's when you're in a storm that you realize that there's nothing you can do to control it. We're like that with weather. We've become so adanced that we can accurately predict the weather 20% of the time, we can tell what's going to happen, map weather a month in advance, but we still can't do anything about it. We can see it coming, we can see the storm clouds coming in, but we can't stop them from hitting us. And when you're in the throes of the storm, you realize that there's nothing you can do to stop it. If you're a farmer, and the hail starts coming down, all you can do is watch the ice pellets shred your crops. If you live in Lakeview here in Regina, and the dark clouds gather, all you can do is get the ol' shop vac out, and get ready to suck water off your floor. But you can't stop the storm. You're powerless against it.
The disciples were powerless against the storm. The clouds had rolled in, the waves had sprung up, and things were getting bleak. They really had no escape. And again, these were seasoned, professional fishermen, people who made a living off of sailing and fishing. They had likely been out in storms before. They'd likely been out in storms, and had been dealing with the threats of wind and waves. They'd been sailors for long enough to know what it was like to encounter storms, and long enough to know how storms work. And this is where we have to deal with who the disciples are. The charge usually laid against them is that they're illiterate fishermen, You know, children afraid of the dark, they don't know how the world works, they don't know about science or physics or that noise, so they'd believe that anything was a miracle. Maybe. But here's what I do know about them. I have an ipad, I have two cars, a garage, a phone that takes pictures, and all that, but I would much rather be with someone like the disciples in a storm than someone like me. I'm standing on the shoulders of giants, but in terms of practical, real world ability, they far outstrip me. So when the storm starts coming up, they know they're in trouble. They know what they can and can't handle, and they know they can't handle this.
By the time they rouse Jesus to action, they are a quarter past desperate. They are in trouble, and they know it. They're in a real fix. And so looking to Christ, they ask him a simple question 'don't you care we're dying?' But when Christ does rouse himself, and speaks to the storm, the storm ceases. Not just that it slows down, or peters out, but stops. It reminds me of that page from Sylvester and the magic pebble, which, if you haven't read it, go read it.
Well, Jesus is God. He is their Lord and their God. And they can tell it by what Jesus does, when he causes the storm to cease, he is showing mastery over creation in a way that humans can't. Sylvester knows what it is like for a storm to suddenly cease, and he's a mule! Imagine what it is like for seasoned fishermen, a crew of men who sail for a living, to be around in a storm that instantly stops. It's kind of a big deal. And they're terrified, because maybe for the first time, they have gathered who this Jesus actually is. Not just a teacher, not just a healer, not just a compassionate man, but the speaker of the reading that we had from Job on Sunday. God. The God who spoke the universe into existence, the God who made everything, who fashioned everything from microscopic organisms right the way up to the solar system. That God.
And like the disciples, we too forget about how big our God is. We forget that the God we worship on Sunday mornings, and throughout the week, is really REALLY big. That's what he is, and who he is. He's the God who made everything, who made heaven and earth, and who has control over everything in creation. That's the God we pray to and believe in. But we tend to forget that he is actually able to do things, that he is actually capable of acting in our world. We forget that he is interested in what we do and who we are, and that he can and will and does work on our behalf.
Too often, we wait. We wait for far too long. We wait until things get really bad before we'll start to discuss things with Jesus. Then, when things are at their blackest, when the waves are threatening to swamp over the side of our boat, when our storm is at its darkest, that's when we start to ask Jesus the big question 'don't you care that we're dying? Do something!'
Yes. Do something. We've tried everything else, we've tried bailing, we've tried rowing, and now that we've exhausted our options, now it's time to call out to God. The same God that we'd been ignoring the whole time, now we need him. Now we rouse him from his slumber. Now, all of a sudden, it''s a big deal. So we call out to him in our distress, when our kids are in trouble, or our relationships are failing, or someone is desperately ill, or whatever, and when we call out to him, it is to ask him if he cares. Because it doesn't seem like he does.
But Jesus does care. He cares a lot. He cares so much that he would, and did, die for you. He cares beyond ordinary human limitations, he cares beyond the stars. He cares so much that he was willing to restore your relationship with God, ensuring that nothing would separate you from his love. No matter what you're going through, even up to and including the point of death, is a storm that is passing. It will pass. This all passes. All of it. Even the stuff that doesn't seem as though it will. We are forever people, we are not temporary, but the storms that come, they are temporary. We feel as though they are the real deal, that they can and will flood us and kill us, but Jesus promises us that we have a hope that transcends death. We have a hope that goes beyond the possibility of permanent separation from God and from each other. Whatever storm you're in, it's passing. I promise you. Though it might not seem like it is, it is. Though it may not seem as though the storm you're living through is passing, but it is. And it will come to an end.
That's why Jesus died you know. He died for you of little faith, you who are in the boat, panicking about the waves that are washing over the side of the boat, unsure of your ability to make it through the storms that are coming. You panic, and call out to Jesus 'don't you care that I'm dying? What are you, asleep?' It's not because he doesn't care. He just knows that it's passing. Your storms even the ones that seem to be impossible, are passing. Yes, things will be bad, yes we will perish, yes everything around us is running down, and the universe is slowing down and dying, but these storms are passing. These too shall pass. In many ways, our panic, our desire to see things work out, and our concern for the storm, they're all tempered by the quiet confidence of Christ, who, even as he stills our storms, chides us for our small faith. The small faith that he himself died for.
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