Batten down the hatches for the storm

 

Reflection 20^th June 2021

Jesus had spent a long day beside the Sea of Galilee teaching multitudes of people about the kingdom of God. Evening was coming on, so Jesus said to his disciples, “Let’s go over to the other side.” So, they climbed into a small boat and started across the Sea of Galilee. Jesus was tired and fell asleep on a cushion in the stern of the boat. Suddenly a furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that the boat was nearly swamped. Almost panic stricken, they ask Jesus, “Teacher, do you not care if we perish?” Mark 4:38

Many of us have asked the same question at some time in our lives. A sudden storm arises in our life - a health or family crisis, the loss of a much-needed job or whatever that storm might be - and Jesus seems to be asleep. We want to ask, “Do you not care that we perish?” Of course, he cares. But sometimes he may seem to be sleeping.

Everybody goes through storms at some time or another.  It seems especially true in today’s world. And undoubtedly the pandemic has been a storm like no other for many due to job losses, deaths of loved ones and so on. I read a report published just a few days ago by the Samaritans. They have found that thankfully during the pandemic, over all suicides have not increased as was feared might happen. But the Samaritans note that coronavirus is having a profound effect on the economy. We know that during the previous recession, suicide rates did rise, and those who are hardest hit by economic downturn are also those who are at greatest risk of suicide – i.e. middle-aged men.

William Cowper was a popular 18^th century poet. He suffered from depression. He made four different attempts to commit suicide but each time something or someone prevented it from happening. After the fourth attempt he picked up a Bible and began to read the Book of Romans. It was then that Cowper finally met the God who calms storms, including the storms in his own life. It is obvious that Cowper wrote from these experiences when he penned these memorable words: “God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform; He plants His footsteps in the sea, and rides upon the storm.”

I would add that I am not saying reading the Bible is the solution to someone suffering from the kind of thoughts that means they contemplate suicide. And I would advocate someone in that situation seeking proper help. But God is there during the storm.

I am a fan of the Aubrey and Maturin novels of Patrick O'Brian. They are sea faring tales of Captain Jack Aubrey and his companion Dr Stephen Maturin. They are set in the early years of the 19th century during the Napoleonic wars. In one novel, Desolate Island, O'Brian depicts Captain Aubrey's ship sailing through a violent storm in the South Atlantic, all the while being pursued by a much larger enemy vessel. As the storm rages around the ship cargo comes lose and has to be jettisoned, including heavy cannon. This is very risky. But the sailors know the risk of letting heavy cannon roll around the ship is far more dangerous than the storm outside.

So it is with people. Our greatest danger is not the external conditions that make up our environment but those storms that sometimes rage within.

The worst part is that sometimes during the roughest part of the storm Jesus seems to be asleep. You know what I’m talking about if you’ve been a Christian for any length of time at all. You pray and you pray some more, and nothing seems to happen. You think to yourself, where IS God when I need Him? All of us can look back over our lives and see a series of answered prayers, but all of that is forgotten when we encounter a truly horrible situation. “Why doesn’t God intervene?” we cry out in our distress. “Do you not care that we perish? Do my griefs and heartaches not matter? Is there anyone there who sees and understands?”

‘Do you not care that we are perishing?’ asked the frightened disciples. (Mark 4:38) Every believer goes through a time like that sooner or later.

C. S. Lewis had been married only four years when his wife, Joy, died of cancer. Joy’s death was almost too much for Lewis to bear. He plunged into a deep depression and did the only thing he knew to do; he wrote. His writings were later compiled and published under the title, A Grief Observed.

With Joy’s death, C. S. Lewis’ unwavering faith was called into question. It seemed to him as though God had been wonderfully present in his life until this catastrophe struck. Soon after Joy’s death, Lewis wrote these words: “Where is God? When you are happy, so happy that you have no sense of needing Him, so happy that you are tempted to feel His claims upon you as an interruption, if you remember yourself and turn to Him with gratitude and praise, you will be--or so it feels--welcomed with open arms. But to go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside. After that, silence. You may as well turn away. The longer you wait, the more emphatic the silence will become . . . What can this mean? Why is God so present a commander in our time of prosperity and so very absent a help in times of trouble?”

That is a question every generation of Christians has asked. All of us go through storms. At such times it seems as if God is asleep.

But inspirational words of the Psalmist give us hope: “. . . he who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord watches over you--the Lord is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will keep you from all harm--he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.” Psalm 121

The story in Mark’s Gospel is an affirmation that Jesus does care. When the storms of life are raging, he does care. When it seems, you cannot hold on a moment longer, he does care. When the waters threaten to engulf you, he does care.

The disciples rouse Jesus from his sleep, and he does what only the Master can do. He speaks to the wind and the waves and says, “Peace! be still!” Mark 4:38 And the wind ceases and there is a great calm. Then he turns to the disciples and asks, “Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” Mark 4:40

The central question in life is not how many storms we encounter. The question is whether we have faith for the storms we will encounter. Sometimes it will seem as if God Himself has forsaken us. It is at such times that our faith will be critical.

The late John Claypool was one of America’s finest preachers. When he was at the height of his popularity as a pastor, his six-year-old daughter, Laura, died of leukaemia. In his book Tracks of a Fellow Struggler, he described how one evening when sitting alone in silence and filled with despair, he realised something. He could either spend the rest of his life mourning the loss of Laura whom he would never see grow up, or he could look back in joy and say, “Thank you, God, for the gift of my daughter Laura and the six best years of my life.” 

John Claypool chose to trust God with his storm. So can we.

(The idea, and illustrations, for this week's Reflection came from Sermons.com - an invaluable source of ideas for weeks when preachers are sometimes are up against the clock!)