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Sermon for Epiphany 4
Romans 13:8-10 + Matthew 8:23-27
Jesus’ disciples witnessed His divine power over nature at the wedding at Cana, changing water into wine. They witnessed His divine power over nature as He performed the healing miracles on the sick. But those miracles were “quiet,” so to speak. There’s something more impressive in today’s miracle, something more spectacular, more awesome—an epiphany at sea, if you will. This Man Jesus controls the earth, the weather and the environment itself. Everything that’s going on around you at every moment is within the power of His will and His word. There’s are some powerful implications of that that we’re going to explore this morning.
All three Evangelists record this “fateful trip” out to sea, and they all start out with the same important piece of information: It was Jesus who initiated this trip. He got into the boat, and His disciples followed Him. As Mark’s Gospel adds, Jesus said to His disciples, “Let’s cross over to the other side.” This journey out onto the water, this journey that became so perilous, wasn’t done at the whim of the disciples against their better judgment. It was undertaken at the guidance of Jesus. That’s the first point to remember.
The second point to remember is that Jesus had already told them some very important things. He had told them of the work He had to do as the Christ. And He had told them that He would make them “fishers of men,” with an apostleship and a ministry that they would have to carry out in the world. So, with Jesus’ guidance in setting sail and with Jesus’ word that both He and they had lots of work to do in the world, could they possibly perish at sea in any storm? No. The only way they could perish at sea is if Jesus is a liar, or if Jesus has no power to fulfill His word.
But then the storm arose. Winds started howling and whipping up the sea. Waves began crashing over the boat and water began spilling into it. It’s not like Jesus’ disciples were novices at this. These were experienced fishermen, most of them, who had grown up around this very Sea of Galilee and earned their living on this very lake. They knew how to navigate the lake and how to weather a storm. So it must have been quite a storm for them to be so desperate, so worried.
All the while, Jesus slept. Such perfect trust in His Father! Such a contrast with the disciples, who were panicking, even though they had Jesus’ own guidance to be where they were and they had Jesus’ own assurance that they would go on to become His ministers in the world. They either forgot about what Jesus had said, or they stopped relying on it because of the danger they could see and hear and feel all around them. So in near despair, they cried out, “Lord, save us! We’re perishing!”
They turned to Him for help, which was good, but there was a tinge of scolding in their words. Mark records them more sharply: Teacher, don’t You care that we are perishing? Not unlike the prayers that are often uttered by people: God, don’t You care about us? Why aren’t You doing anything to save us? Can’t You see that we’re dying here?
But Jesus scolds them, albeit mildly, for their scolding of Him: Why are you fearful, O you of little faith? If He had left them time to answer that question, they might have started pointing at the sky and the waves and the water that was filling the boat. But mercifully, He simply spoke a word to the storm: Peace, be still! And the wind ceased and there was a great calm.
The disciples marveled at Jesus’ power as He revealed it to them in this epiphany at sea. We marvel at it, too, as we hear about it. But marveling at Jesus’ power won’t do us any good, if we forget about it or stop relying on it when we’re the ones in trouble.
Now, sometimes, the troubles we face are troubles of our own making, troubles that result from bad decisions you’ve made. There’s no divine guarantee you’ll get out of those situations unscathed or even alive. I think of choosing a job that you know will force you to abandon God’s Word and Sacrament, or habitual smoking, or overeating, or drug abuse, or adultery, or marrying someone who doesn’t confess the Christian faith together with you, or drinking and driving, or simply choosing to treat people badly. You have no right to expect that God will intervene to save you from the troubles that result from such things. What you do have at those times is God’s promise to be faithful to His baptismal promises, to keep seeking out the baptized, to forgive you when you repent of your sins, to heal your standing with Him, and to help you deal with the earthly consequences of your sins.
At other times, you may simply be going about your daily life, having no word from God guiding you to do one thing over another thing. You simply make decisions that you’re free to make, going about your business. And then some tragedy occurs, or some illness strikes out of the blue. And still, you have no divine promise that God will make a certain job or a certain move turn out “well,” in an earthly sense. You have no divine promise that you will not die in a storm or that you’ll be cured of an illness. And so you have no right to have faith that a certain job will work out or that a certain illness will be healed. You can’t have faith in something God hasn’t said. You can’t trust in a promise God has never made. What you can trust in are the promises God has made, to make you His own beloved child and heir through Holy Baptism, to forgive you your sins through the minister’s absolution and through His holy Sacrament, and to somehow make all things work together for good to those who love Him, understanding “good” according to your heavenly Father’s vision, not necessarily according to yours.
At still other times, you do have divine guidance and direction to do certain things: as a Church, to preach the Word in season and out of season, to support the ministry of the Word with your prayers and offerings, and to pray for all men in their needs. As individual Christians, to live as Christians in the world, obeying God’s commandments, hearing His Word and receiving His Sacraments, serving diligently in your vocations, confessing the Word of God in your daily life, and doing good to your neighbor, especially to your fellow Christians. Even in the midst of doing such good things that have God’s direct command, you will have troubles. Jesus calls them “crosses” that you have to bear in this world.
But guess what? The One who was powerful to control the wind and the waves on the Sea of Galilee is also powerful to deliver you from all evil and to bring you safely into His heavenly kingdom. We confess as much every time we pray in the Lord’s Prayer: Deliver us from evil. What does this mean? Our Catechism answers: We ask in this prayer, in summary, that the Father in heaven would deliver us from every sort of evil of body and soul, of property and honor; and finally, when our last hour comes, grant us a blessed end, and graciously take us from this valley of sorrow to Himself in heaven. And to that, you say, Amen. Yes, yes, it shall be so!
So. If you believe in Jesus as the Christ, as true God who became true Man to atone for your sins with His life, then believe in Him also as the Ruler of the things going on around you in your life, and trust in His promises of deliverance and divine help in every need. There’s no room here for distrust. No room for despair. No reason to panic. No reason to imagine that God will allow you to perish. Your flesh is weak and fragile, and you will be tempted to panic, tempted to rely on yourself. But Christ Jesus is strong, and His word and power cannot fail. Remember that, and rely on Him, even in the midst of the storm. As the hymn says: If thou but suffer God to guide thee and hope in Him through all thy ways, He’ll give thee strength, whate’er betide thee, and bear thee thro’ the evil days. Who trusts in God’s unchanging love builds on the Rock that naught can move. Amen.