Mark 4 - Do You Care?

Wednesday, October 02, 2002   1:00-2:30

I have said many things in my life that I now regret.  Some were words spoken foolishly.  Others were spoken hastily.  Many were said not knowing all the facts.  Later, when it was too late to make a difference, when I found out what really had happened, I wished I would not have said anything at all.  

Even in my conversations with the Master I can recall saying things that displeased him or hurt him.  Jesus was never one to rebuke us harshly or publicly unless it was absolutely necessary.  Often he would call us privately and correct us with a gentle spirit.  Sometimes he would not need to say anything at all.  He could just look at me, and I would know my wrong.  It was times like that I would almost rather that he yell at me.  It seemed nothing could be worse than looking into the face of the Son of God and knowing words you said had caused him pain.  It was not till He went to the cross that I realized how painful my sinful words could truly be.

  

Once, we were all crossing the Sea of Galilee when a storm blew in.  Being well experienced fishermen, we knew from the look of the clouds the storm would be a rough one, but just how rough we could never have guessed.  The light of the setting sun was quickly blocked by black clouds, and the wind seemed to grab the tops of the waves and hurl the sea crashing into our eyes.  Just crossing the floor of the boat against the wind was a trial.  Then the rain came.  Even with the sea in our eyes we could watch the curtain of falling water race across the surface of the sea and engulf us.  It poured.  I’m not sure if the waves or the rain dumped more water into our little boat.  But here we were, bailing, rowing, pleading for our lives in the middle of this deluge, when I turned around and noticed something curled up in the back of the boat.  It was Jesus sleeping like a little picture of peace. 

 

I have to admit, when I got over the shock of someone being able to sleep through this I became mad.  Alright, I became furious.  Certain death faced us on every wave, yet Jesus slept.  All of us were straining at our posts.  We bailed, but could not bail enough.  We rowed, but could not possibly row enough.  And while each man did his job, we prayed, yet by the increasing strength of the storm it seemed evident we could not pray enough.  And all the while Jesus slept.     

         

The water now covered a significant portion of the boat’s floor. Those who had been previously rowing left their posts to help the rest of us bail.  If the ship filled with water, it made little difference which way the boat was facing.  I stumbled to the back of the boat to wake Jesus.  It seems no one else had noticed him sleeping.  A look of shock and surprised covered many faces as they realized our Master was still sleeping.  At that the men seemed to give up hope.  Our Master did not seem to care whether or not we died.  Why should we care?

When I reached the back of the boat I put one hand on Jesus while grasping the rail to keep my balance with the other hand.  

“Jesus!  Jesus!”

He stirred.  Looked around, then turned to face me.  I am sure He saw the fear.  

“Master, don’t you care we’re going to perish?”

He looked at me with disappointment in his eyes, but at the time I thought nothing of it.  Jesus stood where He was, lifted his arms, and said, “Peace.  Be still.”  What one moment was a raging sea the next moment was a placid lake.  We stared in amazement and awe at a peaceful evening on the Sea of Galilee.  I turned to look at Jesus.

“Why were you so fearful?”

I had no answer.

“Why do you have such little faith?”

It was not until many years later that I remembered what I said to Jesus on the lake.  Perhaps the amazement over what Jesus had done had made me forget my foolish statement. 

“Master, don’t you care we are going to perish?”

How foolish I was?  Was that not why Jesus came to earth?  Because He knew we were going to perish without Him.  Everything Jesus did was because He did not want us to perish.  No one else has ever lived who has cared more about people who are perishing.  These were my thoughts as I penned the words, “For God so loved the world, that He gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him, should not perish, but have everlasting life.”  He doesn’t want us to perish.  That’s why He came.