Takoma Park Baptist Church, Washington, DC May 3, 1987
It’s a great gift to be self-contained, to be so secure within your own person that whatever is happening around you just does not get to you and shake you.
It's a great gift to have the presence of mind to focus on what you need to do, even when your life is disturbed by a thousand interruptions. I have had to learn at least a little about that, because I have found over the past few months that nobody, absolutely nobody, gets in and out of this building without coming right past my door, whether they are on their way to the office or to the kitchen or wherever, they come right past that door and sneak a little of my attention.
Now don't get me wrong; I like it. I like to be aware of you and I like to be able to greet you and to see you when you come through -- that's wonderful. But I have also learned that I have to be flexible enough to recover my concentration and to bounce back to whatever I'm doing without getting discombobulated. I well remember the Wednesday afternoon that everything from telephone calls to deliveries to folks looking for a few dollars worth of charity soaked up my time, and I shouted to one of our deacons, “We are just not going to have prayer meeting tonight.” But of course we did have it and survived, because I am learning, at least a little, how to focus and to concentrate in the middle of this happy chaos we call church.
But obviously I don't have what Jesus had. In a thousand ways I don't have what Jesus had. But in this particular especially. First there is the crowd, pressing on him, demanding to be taught, asking questions, draining him of energy. And so Jesus, in order to focus, in order to contain himself and to recoup his concentration, climbed in a boat. Curiously enough, the Scripture says, “Just as he was.” He didn’t take time to pack, to plan his itinerary, to buy travel insurance, I’ll bet he even left home without his Galilean Express card! But he knew his own needs and he was secure enough in himself that he just did what he needed to do. Into the boat for a little rest and recovery.
But then there is the boat ride. Jesus, asleep on a pillow in the stern, and the waves begin to mount up. Asleep when anybody else would be crying and screaming and probably losing his lunch, or at least bailing out with his shoes. Although I guess you don’t bail out much with sandals, do you? But picture it: the sudden squall whistling all around, little boats pitched about like so many matchsticks, waves roiling and roaring, helpless sailors trying to maintain some element of control and just trying to keep from taking an unscheduled bath … and in the stern of the boat the calm and collected snores of a tired teacher. What a picture!
Do you wonder why they woke him up? Why would they bother to disturb such calm? The text says that they woke him up and asked him, "Teacher, do you not care if we perish?" Teacher, do you not care if we perish; let's just say that a freer translation, the Smith Unpublished Version … another translation might be, "If I'm going to drown, at least I want you to see it. At least I want you to know about it, just in case you who speak so freely about God and His power might want to do a little something.” Hey Jesus, don't you see we've got problems here?
“And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, ‘Peace, be still.’ And the wind ceased and there was a great calm. He said to them, 'Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?’ And they were filled with awe and said to one another, 'Who then is this, that even wind and sea obey him?’"
What a great gift, in the middle of the storm, to be able to rest, and then to focus and to concentrate, and to calm the troubled waters. "Peace, be still". He rebuked the winds and said to the sea and to the seafarers, “Peace, be still.” And you and I yet wonder, “Who then is this, that even wind and sea obey him?"
Without question you and I live in turbulent times. If there were not the turbulence of our own emotional overloads, there would still be the torrent of torn relationships. If there were not torn relationships, there would be these who drown in drugs and alcohol and other self-inflicted abuses. If there were not those abuses, there would be the whirlpools of economic collapse. And if there were not the financial problems, over it all we would feel the strong winds of war. We too live in turbulent times.
And like these ancient mariners, there are times when we would cry out, “Teacher, do you not care if we perish?” Lord God, do you not care, will you not do something? Lord God, are you awake? Do you understand that we are in troubled waters out here?
But I want to say to you this morning that this Jesus still rebukes the winds of disturbance. This one who calmed the Sea of Galilee and who rebuked the winds which threatened His people still rebukes the winds of war and confusion. You see, what this little story is telling us is something very profound indeed; it is a whole lot more than a simple story about a boat capsizing and a few frightened fishermen. Instead, it’s a story about the Kingdom of God. It’s a story designed to show us that this Christ Jesus is more than meets the eye; clothed in simple garb and teaching sometimes puzzling truths about a heavenly Father, He must have appeared to some who heard Him as another of the starry-eyed dreamers they had heard so often, spouting wonderful but impractical things about a remote God in heaven.
But when you see the Lord of the storm, then you suddenly recognize that you are dealing with one who in some mysterious way is the very embodiment of the Kingdom of God, who in His own person and in the depths of His own soul is able to contain the promise that God's kingdom is coming.
Who is this that even wind and sea obey him? Who is this? Now we know. He is Lord of nature, so that even the incompleteness of this world is subject to him; He is lord of humanity, so that He will hear the pleadings and the needs of his people. And He is Lord of history, invading our time and our space and rebuking those things which would threaten our very existence and which would distract us from our real purposes.
Have you heard all of that? Have you picked up, since Easter, the core of the message as to who this Christ is and what he is about? He is Lord of all things; and as Paul says, all things are subject to him, things on earth and things in heaven, God has named the risen Christ Lord of all things. And that means that he is still about the business of rebuking the winds. He is still about the business of calling to account those forces which would threaten his people. And he is calling you and me to be islands of calm and makers of peace amid the storms of chaos.
He said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” And I am convinced that today he would say to us and to our nation … and, yes, to other nations and peoples as well: You prepare for war, and you do so because you are afraid; you have no faith. You build nuclear warheads in quantities sufficient to destroy every man, woman, child, dog, cat, and goldfish ten times over, and you do it because you are afraid and have no faith.
Ah, preacher, now you’ve quite preaching and gone to meddling. And the last thing we want here is a preacher who gets into politics. All right; no politics, no partisanship, and, I hope, not too much naiveté. But isn’t it interesting that while we say we are afraid of the Russians, friends of mine who have visited in the Soviet Union – who have visited Russian Christians, Russian Baptists, mind you – those friends report, every one of them, that the Russians are afraid of us. Their nation lost perhaps twenty million people, soldiers and civilians alike, in the Second World War, and they are afraid. They say they will never again allow it to happen. What can we say to that?
We can say that we do understand that this Christ is Lord of history, he is lord of all things … all things … and that he rebukes the winds of disturbance, he calls them to peace and summons them to be still. And he rebukes us too: “Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?"
I must confess to you today that I am shaken by much that I see around me. And just as it can be a little tough to keep my concentration on the things that matter when my hallway is full of folks coming and going, so also it can be more than a little tough to keep my concentration on the work of the kingdom when I see a world pockmarked by violence and preoccupied with preparing for war. I cannot fully understand this one who sleeps in the stern, and I want to shake him and to say, "Do you not care that we are perishing?" That's exactly what I want to do.
But then he brings me out of the raging storms and sets a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. And he promises me at this place, right here in this island of sanity and serenity, rising above a sinking world, that surely, surely, his goodness and his mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and that he and I and you and all His church gathered need fear no evil, but rather can labor together to make for peace. Peacemaking, calming the storms; peacemaking owns the future.
