Proper 7 B

June 21/25, 2006
The Rev. Kristie Hennig

Mark 4:35-41: "Built for Storms"

Many of us in the Land of 10,000 Lakes have a water rescue story, a near-catastrophe that scared the living daylights out of us and replaced our complacency with a new respect for the power of nature. As if tsunamis and hurricanes aren't evidence enough that we are powerless against the great waters that cover this earth...Here's my water rescue story.

Picture a remote spot in the BWCA. An extra wide aluminum canoe filled stem to stern with gear, three small children swaddled in blaze orange life vests sitting on cushions on the bottom, two parents digging hard with their paddles against a head wind, looking for the camp site the map promised would be right around the next point of land. Fast-forward a few minutes. Picture the canoe in virtually the same place, the children still hunkered down, still trusting...the paddlers now yelling to one another through the roar of the wind, their digging more frantic.

We did finally make it past that point, landing safely and even getting the tents in place before the heavens opened up. The kids -- oblivious to the risk -- found it exciting and fun. We parents were both exhilarated and exhausted. High levels of danger and adrenaline will do that.

Jesus' disciples, being professional fishermen, must have had many such stories to roll out around the campfire, brushes with death they hoped never to experience again. So when Jesus suggested they take their fishing boats out for a ride across the lake as the sun went down, these expert boatmen might have wondered how good idea an idea that really was. It would be mighty dark out there on the open water. But they took the Teacher where he wanted to go. Look where it got them.

On the screen you'll see an edgy depiction of this story from our own post-modern times. The dialog is written in different words and there's only one disciple pictured, but the heart of the story's there.

What do you notice about the shape of the storm as it rolls over the boat? It has an eye and a face. Kind of sea serpent-like. As a matter of fact, in this cartoon version of Mark's gospel that dragon-looking form is the same unclean spirit that Jesus called out of a man at the beginning of Mark's story.

It's an interesting bit of interpretation from artist Steve Ross that stands on solid theological ground.

For the larger context in Mark's gospel of the rescue at sea miracle is the exorcising of demons. The very first thing Mark reports Jesus doing after he calls the first few disciples, his first healing, is to cast out the unclean spirit from a man who wanders into the Temple during Jesus' Bible study. He calls the demon out of the man in the same way he calms the storm a few episodes later: with a command, a rebuke. "Be silent! Be still! Scram!" Both events are exorcisms.

Jesus is able to calm the storms that rage inside people, and he is able to chase away the fearsome sea dragon that threatens boaters.

Our cartoonist suggests that the same unclean spirit dogs Jesus throughout his ministry, including the events of Holy Week and the cross. One day he chases the spirit out of a person, only to find it taking up residence in someone else down the road, someone standing in line to be healed. Not a bad analysis. Holds water here, so to speak.

Look at the very next chapter in Mark, chapter 5, when you get home: Immediately after he casts out the storm-demon, Jesus exorcises the unclean spirit from the man with shackles and chains who lives in the cemetery outside of town.

Maybe it is the same demon in all these separate stories. All this demonology seems a bit foreign to most of us, I suspect. Just think of it as a portrayal of the way evil operates in the world.

So what is the story of Jesus telling the storm to scram telling us?

That following Jesus leads us into storms. That sometimes the storms in our lives are beyond our control. The chaos in our lives may be caused by people or situations or institutions or evil powers we can do nothing about. Sometimes it is not our fault The word of hope in this story is this: Jesus has enough power in his index finger to slay the dragons, to control the chaos... and he wants us to channel that power in our own lives.

We know that life is filled with storms. Tsunamis and hurricanes and tornadoes. War, poverty, cancer, heart attacks, job loss, marriages falling apart. And there are the "daily dribbles of woe" that wear you down - the plumbing emergency, the car repair, the kids whining at the checkout. Ground into the dirt by those things, you wonder if you'd have enough to fend off the really big sea monsters if they came your way...

I talked to someone this week who's staring down an ugly incarnation of evil. There's no glib talk from her of seeing her cancer as a "gift from the Lord." She's facing her reality squarely and taking up the weapons at her disposal to fight this thing. She's claiming the promises of Jesus she's spent a lifetime relying on. She knows she's not alone. There's a strength and determination in her voice. You can feel the energy surge around her.

There are other people - like my cousin Carole - who exude a different energy, the energy of peace. They bear the gift of non-anxious presence, a serenity that radiates from a strong, still center, comforting the weary and soothing the worried in the midst of life's storms - the ones that rage and the ones that dribble.

And there are others whose own raging storms have brought them through chaos (not around it) to a deeper faith, a peace that passes all understanding. They learn through their pain that none of us is ever alone. Beyond death there is new life. In Christ we are a new creation. There is new purpose and new strength for us, even after incalculable loss.

Maybe you know the story of Gordon and Betty Olson of Minneapolis. Fifteen years ago, their son Tim, an aspiring architect working to build a church in the Central African Republic, was ambushed by bandits and killed...doing God's work, presumably.

It was devastating to his parents, of course. They grieved mightily.

They could have spent the rest of their lives embittered or feeling sorry for themselves, and no one would have blamed them. But they made a different decision. Instead of nursing their pain, Gordon and Betty vowed to make sure that Tim's short life was not lived in vain. First, they worked to complete the church building that Tim had started. That led to all kinds of other projects.

"The Africans we met and the needs we encountered tugged at our hearts," says Betty, "until we decided we could continue Tim's passion for service by getting involved ourselves." Armed with a powerful story and a desire to serve God, the Olsons sought the help of several friends and experts in the field of global mission. This led to the creation of a global mission advocacy organization in 1995, Lutheran Partners in Global Ministry. Through LPGM, Gordon and Betty - and thousands of others who never knew their son - now continue the legacy of Tim Olson, whose faith and trust in a personal God led him to make a difference in this world.

Gordon and Betty trained their hearts to see the storm that hit their life as an opportunity for growth.

They stopped telling God how big their problems were, and told their problems how big God was. They let Jesus tell the chaos to scram. And they've found new energy, purpose, and fulfillment.

They learned what the late Dr. Alvin Rogness, who was president of Luther Seminary a generation ago, also learned by losing a son to tragedy at a young age. In a book about that experience called He Was Only 24, in a chapter entitled "Storm Centers", he wrote the following words:

"You and I are built for storms. We are not built for cozy, safe little harbors. The Lord is with us. With him, we have the kind of craft that can weather any storm. In fact, we should head out for the storms. We are not to anchor our lives in some sheltered cove and let the storm-tossed world go by. The Lord's call is not like that. Not to an easier task but a greater cause. Not to peace but to battle. Not to a cozy harbor but to the sea of storms. We are not built for safe harbors. We are built for storms."

It was only after Kimberly and I chose "Children of the Heavenly Father" as the sermon hymn for today that I discovered just how very fitting it is. The story behind this much-loved hymn is a storm of great magnitude: Lina Sandell was 26 when her father fell overboard on a boat trip and drowned... as she watched helplessly from the deck. That storm in young Lina's life inspired a hymn that has for many been a strong, clear expression of trusting God in the midst of devastating circumstances.

Following Jesus means crossing dangerous seas. Alvin Rogness and Lina knew that. Gordon and Betty know that. And so do many of you.

It does seem from time to time as if Jesus is asleep at the helm, that he doesn't care about our troubles, that he is willing to let chaos win. The waves wash over us and we fear we might drown. If we had only our own feeble faith to rely on, we'd be goners. But in the end, as this story helps us to see, it isn't so much the quality of our faith that matters as it is its object. For we believe in the One who lived, and died, and was raised again so that nothing in the heavens, earth, or seas can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. And this God is in the boat with us.

Whipped by the wind but still afloat. We are built for storms.

1 Marked, by Steve Ross.
2 Michael A. King, "Living the Word", Christian Century, June 13, 2006, 19.
3 Betty Olson, quoted on www.lpgm.org.
4 Jerry Goebel quotes a friend of his who preached this to his friends in jail. See http://onefamilyoutreach.com/bible/mark/mk_04_35-41.html.
5 Quoted by Ed Markquardt, www.sermonsfromseattle.com/series_b_tornado_time.htm.