Summary: Jesus’ job is not to make things easy for us. It is to save us from sin and death, not from suffering and life. Life includes suffering.

Just a few weeks ago we celebrated the 150th anniversary of this church: a century and a half of vital, energetic, faithful ministry and worship. And in just another couple of weeks we will be closing the door on that history. This is not what you expected when you first embarked on your journey with this congregation. But you’re not alone. All around the country, large churches are shrinking and small churches are closing. I personally know of two in the Twin Cities who are undergoing “discernment” about their futures, or about whether they will even have a future at all. How can this be happening? We have been faithful, to the best of our ability. Has God lost interest? Doesn’t he care that we’re in danger of sinking?

Let me take you back to Palestine, to the Sea of Galilee.

It is a freshwater lake 13.5 miles long, 7.5 miles wide, and 690 feet below sea lev-el. Because it is surrounded by steep hills, the wind rushing down them creates sudden, violent storms. Peter, Andrew, James and John would have been very well acquainted with these storms, and had probably had any number of narrow escapes during their fishing careers.

How many of you have experience in small boats? They’re a whole lot different than ocean liners, aren’t they? You can ignore just about any kind of weather on an ocean liner unless you get seasick. And if you don’t get seasick, it can even be kind of fun, the way a blizzard can be fun - if you’re inside by the fire. But small boats are something else. My brother Jeremy was a fisherman in Alaska for over 20 years; he quit about when he was approaching 50 because too many of his friends had gotten killed; seven of them went down with their boat in March of 95. Jeremy figured his time was running out. He stayed in boats - but he became a mate and then a captain on a big one instead of a hand on a small one. He could sleep at night.

I spent a fair amount of time on boats when I was young. I’ve crewed on a two-man sloop and rowed a dinghy up the harbor to visit a neighbor. I’ve even been caught out with small-craft warnings up and a broken rudder cable. But the scariest time of all was when I was 11, coming back from a picnic in Argentina. We lived on the banks of the River Parana, the longest river in Argentina, and by the time it got to where we lived it was also the widest. We were in the habit of gathering up family and friends and food on Sunday afternoons and going out to an island in the middle of the river for picnics. We had a sort of long skinny open boat called a canoa, with an outboard motor, and it held about ten people. But this Sunday, before we had finished our picnic, an unexpected storm blew up. The island we were on was very flat and sandy; I think the reason we didn’t stay there until the storm was over was that when the river was high the islands were covered. At any rate we gathered up our things and got into the boat and started back. I don’t remember being scared at the beginning. I was sort of a space cadet; you could always count on me not noticing what was going on because I was always thinking about something else. And we’d been on the river in the rain before. And my dad knew what he was doing. He grew up on Puget Sound, he was a Sea Scout, he had small boat handling papers, and besides, he was MY DAD. He knew what he was doing. So I was just fine, until I looked back during a lull in the bail-ing (we were all bailing) and he was white as a sheet and one of the other men had joined him to try to hold the tiller steady against the push of the water trying to force us downstream with the current. And then I got scared. It’s smart to be scared when your life is in danger.

Let’s look at our Scripture passage again:

...Jesus said to them, “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 and said to him, “Teacher, don’t you care if 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?” They were terrified and asked each other, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!”

Peter and Andrew and James and John knew the power of the water. They had proba-bly lost friends to Galilee’s storms. They were neither fools nor cowards. They had every reason to be afraid; the sea had killed and would undoubtedly kill again. Why shouldn’t they wake Jesus up?

This is a very famous passage.

The first point everyone makes is that even the wind and the waves obey Jesus. And this is an important point, one of the key signs of Jesus’ identity as the Messiah. Jesus is Lord over the created order, not just a traveling teacher and healer. And I have customarily heard this passage preached to assure his followers that He who calmed the wind and storm can also calm whatever in our life is frightening or disturbing us. And this is true. Make no doubt about that. Jesus can still calm the sea. But I don’t believe that the lesson we are to learn from this passage is that when storms come up we are to ask Jesus to make everything smooth for us. He can, of course, and He does so when it pleases him. But Jesus’ job is not to make things easy for us.

The points I want to make are quite different.

First, Jesus was sound asleep. This is a small boat, folks. He was probably wet as well as tossed about. What does it say about him that he could sleep through all this?

Second, if Jesus woke up, what did the disciples expect him to do? He was a carpenter, not a sailor!

Third, they woke him with an accusation that he was sleeping on the job, not with a confession that they were scared to death and didn’t know what to do.

Fourth, Jesus said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”

What we see in this passage is that Jesus is gentle with those who are immature in their faith. But he calls his followers to grow beyond that point. His disciples knew enough to believe that he could do something to save them, why didn’t they take that a step further? It seems from Jesus’ response that he expected them to understand by this point that they could trust him. As the author of Hebrews tells us:

"In fact, though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you the elementary truths of God’s word all over again. You need milk, not solid food!.... But solid food is for the mature.... Therefore let us leave the elementary teachings about Christ and go on to maturity." [Heb 5:12-14]

Jesus’ job is not to make things easy for us. It is to call us to believe in him, and to follow, and to grow to be like him. And the way we grow beyond the level of immaturity displayed by Jesus’ followers in this passage is by persevering even when circumstances seem to be against us. He told his disciples, and us, that we will have troubles in this world. He told his disciples, and us, that since the world hated him, it would no doubt hate us as well. Peter reminded us in his first letter that we have been called to suffering “because Christ suffered for us, leaving us an example, so that we should follow in his steps.” Jesus’ brother James wrote the following to Christians who were experiencing persecution:

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." [Jas 1:2-4]

Jesus’ job is not to make things easy for us. It is to save us from sin and death, not from suffering and life. Life includes suffering. We won’t grow at all if we base our lives on the premise that God sent his son to die for us so that we might be spared suffering. But even worse than not growing in faith and Christ-likeness is what seems to be happening in some places within the Presbyterian Church. Some of the theology I have seen practiced and heard preached is a theology that rejects suffering altogether. And as far as I can tell it rejects suffering because those who preach it no longer seem to believe that God has the power to redeem our suffering, or that Jesus Christ is present with us in suffering.

It is sometimes very hard to remember, when the winds blow and the waves threaten to calm our boat, that as long as Jesus is in the boat with us, we will not drown. It helps to have other people around to remind us, when our faith falters, when we forget - for a moment - that the battle is already won. Worship, Bible study and prayer

are what make perseverance possible. Bible study and discernment also teach us why it is necessary.

Church membership and attendance has been declining in the United States for decades; it’s not just us. In the last fifty years the number has declined from 90% to 64%. That’s a lot. To some extent that represents a winnowing out of nominal believers, people who go to church because it’s the thing to do on Sundays, not because they are followers of Jesus. And there’s something to be said for that. But it’s interesting to note that the denominations more likely to grow are the more conservative ones. For instance, the PCUSA is declining, while the PCA – Presbyterian Church in America – is one of the fastest-growing denominations in the country. Of course, I’m not happy that they believe women don’t belong in the pulpit, but I do admire their commitment and dedication.

National Council of Churches researcher Dean M. Kelley pointed out in his 1972 book Why Conservative Churches are Growing: “‘Strong’ religious movements make demands of their members in terms of both belief and behavior.” The demands that conservative churches make of their members is no greater than the demands Jesus himself makes of us: faithfulness, hope, obedience, courage. And although our own little rowboat in the increasingly secular sea we are trying to navigate may need to offload to other vessels, those other vessels are there, and many are flourishing. Africa, for instance, has seen enormous growth in the last decade. Christianity is growing faster in sub-Saharan Africa than anywhere else in the world: in Nigeria membership has grown by over 100%, and that in the face of intense pressure – often violence – from the Muslim north. And instead of being on the receiving end of missionary activity, they’re now sending out missionaries of their own. It’s one of the top twelve missionary-sending countries in the world.

In order to calm our hearts in the midst of our storms, we have to lift our eyes beyond our own circumstances to the One in whom we trust. Around the world, we can see the fruit of the work God called us to. He is faithful; what we have done has not been wasted: these missionaries are our children’s children. And as Paul wrote to the Romans regarding God’s people, the Jews, whom he appeared to have abandoned:

"It is not as though the word of God has failed. For … it is not the children of the flesh who are the children of God, but the children of the promise are counted as descendants." [Rom 9:6,8]

God has not abandoned us; he has not forgotten us; he has plans beyond our understanding. As long as Jesus is with us, as long as we trust in him and follow him, the storms cannot do anything but dampen our spirits and - perhaps - make us a little seasick.