Mark 4:35-41
June 25, 2006
Sermon preached by Rev. Donald Ng at the First Chinese Baptist Church in San Francisco.
Two weeks ago, Joy and I fulfilled one of our grandparents’ tasks of taking our two grandchildren Evi and Gavin to the Magic Kingdom in Florida. Although I wanted to ride the Alice in Wonderland and the Peter Pan attractions, their mother wouldn’t allow it. These rides had the “parental warning” icon that suggests that it may be too scary for children. And when I convinced their parents that the Pirates of the Caribbean ride where you sit in a boat was actually not that scary, we found that it was under renovation for our future enjoyment!
It’s interesting that we would pay lots of money to experience the fear factor when we are quite often scared in our everyday life. Some of you might be unaware of the fact that literally thousands of churches across the country at this very moment are scared about their future outlook. Thousands of churches have surpassed anniversary milestones but find that not one member lives within walking distance of the congregation anymore. Some find their neighborhoods so dangerous that they are forced to install expensive alarm systems to keep out local criminals. Choir lofts that once were filled are almost empty except for five or six paid singers. Over half of the pews in America are unoccupied. In thousands of churches, there is a somberness that has settled over the congregation. It is fear. There have been times in the history of our church that we experienced fear like this before.
There is much fear in mainline Protestant churches these days. There’s sadness that our best days are past us, a fear that we may not have what it takes to weather the storm, and a terror that we may, despite our glorious past, go down in the present.
Same Boat
In today’s gospel, Jesus and the disciples are in the same boat. The disciples were not sure if they have what it takes to weather the storm. It is night, a dangerous time for sea journeys. And yet, even though it is dark, Jesus invites them to go sailing.
Back in 1986, during a drought in Galilee, the bones of an ancient boat were uncovered. Carbon dating placed its age between 100 B.C. and A.D. 100, right smack during Jesus’ time. At 26 feet in overall length and seven feet in the widest point, the boat could fit 15 persons, including a helmsman and a crew of four. It would take a boat that size to haul Jesus and his disciples from one shore to another.
In the darkness of the night, a great gale arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already swamped. While the winds raged and increased, tossing the boat about on angry-white-topped waves, Jesus slept soundly and comfortably cuddled on a wet deck. This boat ride at night has the parental warning fear factor to be inappropriate for children!
Jesus’ disciples cry out, “Teacher! Don’t you care that we’re sinking?” Jesus wakes up from his soft cushion in the stern, unconcerned about all of the tumult, rebukes the wind and waves, “Quiet! Be still!” And a miraculous calm settles over the sea.
Two Kinds of Fear
Having spoken to the sea, Jesus then speaks to the disciples, “Why are you afraid? Don’t you have faith?”
In our gospel lesson, it reads, “And they were filled with great awe.” But if we read the Greek, it actually says, “and they feared a great fear.” Our translation is not quite strong enough. In fact, from the word, “awe” we get the word, “awful.” When Jesus calmed the storm, the disciples remained filled with this awful great fear that stayed with them.
Do you find it curious at the end of the storm, that the disciples still “fear a great fear”? Jesus doesn’t say, as you might expect, “Why were you afraid?” He asks, “Why are you afraid? I have stilled the storm, calmed the waves. Why are you, even yet, afraid?”
And then the disciples ask one another, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him?”
Who is this? That’s the question on the table every time we get in the boat with Jesus. One of the earliest symbols of the church is a boat. A boat with the cross as its mast is a fitting image of the church. Every time we come to church or live out our faith in the world, we climb into the boat with Jesus and ask the question, “Who is this?”
There are at least two kinds of fear. There’s the fear of dealing with the death causing storm. The beginning of the hurricane season that produces rain and waves gives us fear. There’s the fear of getting a bad report after your yearly physical or not passing the high school exit exam. There’s the fear of seeing towers fall, subways filled with poisonous gasses, and the need for storing millions of seeds in a seed vault in Norway if for some reason the world that we know comes to an end. There’s the fear that exists in thousands of churches that have empty pews. We cry out, “Jesus, don’t you care that we perish?” This is the Good Friday sort of fear.
But Jesus rises from his cuddled and comfortable sleep at the stern of the boat, rebukes the wind and the waves, and it is calm. The second kind of fear is Easter fear.
Surely there are many things about life that cause us to be in fear—serious illness, death, defeat, disappointment, and national crisis. Jesus is the one who ministers to our fears, overturns our fears, and enables us to live with hope and confidence, despite our fears.
Yet sometimes, it’s the living Christ that causes us to fear. Just as the disciples ask, “Who is this who can command the wind and the waves to obey him?” we are afraid of this Jesus. Jesus comes to us, commands us, leads us into the storm, and that produces great fear.
Easter Fear
As a preacher, one of the fears that I have is that most of the things that I have to say is not being heard by you. We preach, struggle mightily to proclaim the gospel to you, and there you sit, zombie-like stares, utterly unmoved. That’s what we preachers fear.
But I’ll tell you God’s truth. If there’s one thing scarier than not being heard in a sermon, it’s being heard.
I preach a nice, middle-of-the-road Baptist sort of sermon, we sing a hymn, march out, you greet me at the door saying, “That was a great sermon! I get the gospel! I’m going to sell my house, quit my job, learn Thai and move to Chiang Mai, Thailand as a missionary!”
And I say to you, “I was just preaching! You’re not supposed to take this stuff literally!”
And I say to the Lord with trembling voice, “Don’t you ever do that to me again!”
That’s the reason why the predominant emotion on that first Easter wasn’t joy. It was fear. When the women came out to the cemetery, the angel announces, “He is risen from the dead! Go, tell!” and the women “don’t tell anyone because they were afraid.”
Afraid of what? Afraid that Easter might just be true. When everyone says that it’s all over—that death has the last word. Jesus is saying that it’s not over until he says so. He makes a way when there is no way.
And this scares the wits out of us.
Church Fears
Our church may just be running against the currents of what’s happening to many churches in this country today. Instead of facing declining membership, we are experiencing a burst of new births, weddings, members, and filled pews. But like every congregation, we might also become complacent with the blessings that we have. We might want to say that since Jesus calmed our storm, there’s nothing to be afraid about anymore.
When we listen to God’s truth, the predominant emotion that we may also have besides the joy of knowing Christ in our hearts is fear. Who is this Jesus that even the wind and the sea obey him that is alive today? This scares the wits out of us.
We can sail calmly along by maintaining the status quo with our Nursery and children’s ministries but what scares us is that with the many new babies that have been born into our church family, who will step up to care for these new babies? For many of you who have life-long credentials to care and nurture young children, are you afraid that God is calling you to volunteer your gifts and talents to serve in the Nursery?
Jesus rises, awakes, rebukes the wind and waves, the sun rises…and it scares the wits out of us. Who is he supposed to be? Who are we supposed to be?
We can sail calmly along by maintaining the status quo with the limited space that we have but what scares us is that we now have four vibrant Sunday morning worship services, expanding programs that will challenge us to consider leasing new space or the possibility of actually buying another building in Chinatown. Are we afraid that God is calling us to move out in faith into unknown waters?
Jesus rises, awakes, rebukes the wind and waves, the sun rises…and it scares the wits out of us. Who is he supposed to be? Who are we supposed to be?
We can sail calmly along by welcoming Rev. Joseph Tsang when he becomes our new Pastor of Chinese-speaking Ministries this Fall. He can pray for us, visits us in the hospital, lead us in Bible studies and preach sermons to make us feel good that God loves us. But what scares us is that when Rev. Tsang comes to become a part of our church family, he might challenge us to bear witness of our faith in new places and with new persons that we have never thought about. He might rock our steady sailing because he knows that what scares him also scares us that Jesus Christ is alive and he is not done with us.
Jesus rises, awakes, rebukes the wind and waves, the sun rises…and it scares the wits out of us. Who is he supposed to be? Who are we supposed to be?
Oakland FBC
We have a sister ABC church in Oakland. The First Baptist Church in it’s hey days used to be vibrant and strong. You can say that it lost its neighborhood when people began leaving the inner city for the suburbs.
I find myself going to Oakland First quite often for meetings and one time, the pastor took a group of us on a tour of the facilities. There were rooms that have not been used for decades. I couldn’t believe that there was another auditorium upstairs besides the sanctuary that our whole sanctuary can fit into. The Nursery hasn’t had a baby in years. As you can imagine, I was envious over their space.
The pastor and their small group of church leaders found that, though almost none of their members still lived nearby, they did have a neighborhood—poor families, street people, Asian immigrants, people like that.
With the urging of the pastor and the encouragement of some Baptist leaders in the region, First Baptist welcomed the First Burmese Baptist Church to start a new church in their building. Already, the Burmese leaders have cleaned up rooms that have not seen usage for decades. Already, the church kitchen is being used to cook Asian food. And the two congregations, one largely white and one Burmese are envisioning joint ministries together.
Now, on Sundays, that once declining, mostly empty church is being filled with people. There is still much work to be done but this church is being resurrected. As the pastor said, “Trouble is, many of our best, long-time members just couldn’t take it. They were all prepared for our last days as a church and then, wonder of wonders, our church was raised, given a new mission, a reason for living. And it scared them to death.”
Sailing with Jesus
Jesus rises, rebukes those forces over which we have no control, and demands that we sail on with him. Will you have the guts to stay in the boat? None of us have to go on any of those Disney fear-generating attractions to know about the fear factor.
When the fear that is Good Friday is transformed into the fear that accompanies Easter, when Jesus who has been to us merely a good teacher reveals himself to be the powerful Lord of the wind and wave, will we have the guts to stay in the boat with Jesus?
I pray to God that you and I will.
Let us pray.
Lord Jesus, we are here because we are trying to love you. You have loved us, come to us in our times of trial, touched our fevered souls and brought us peace, healed our diseased spirits and stilled our troubles, restless hearts. Yet in coming to us, in loving us, you give yourself to us in all your awe-inspiring glory. You shake the foundation of our lives. You call us to walk with you, no matter where you go. Thus we fear. We want to love you, but we also fear that you may be more of a Savior than we really want. Help us to follow you, no matter what that love costs us. Amen.