Proper 13 (2024)

“Fear Not, for The Lord is With You!”

Mark 6:45–56 NASB95

45 Immediately Jesus made His disciples get into the boat and go ahead of Him to the other side to Bethsaida, while He Himself was sending the crowd away. 46 After bidding them farewell, He left for the mountain to pray. 47 When it was evening, the boat was in the middle of the sea, and He was alone on the land. 48 Seeing them straining at the oars, for the wind was against them, at about the fourth watch of the night He came to them, walking on the sea; and He intended to pass by them. 49 But when they saw Him walking on the sea, they supposed that it was a ghost, and cried out; 50 for they all saw Him and were terrified. But immediately He spoke with them and said to them, “Take courage; it is I, do not be afraid.” 51 Then He got into the boat with them, and the wind stopped; and they were utterly astonished, 52 for they had not gained any insight from the incident of the loaves, but their heart was hardened. 53 When they had crossed over they came to land at Gennesaret, and moored to the shore. 54 When they got out of the boat, immediately the people recognized Him, 55 and ran about that whole country and began to carry here and there on their pallets those who were sick, to the place they heard He was. 56 Wherever He entered villages, or cities, or countryside, they were laying the sick in the market places, and imploring Him that they might just touch the fringe of His cloak; and as many as touched it were being cured.

Goal: That the hearer realizes trials are a part of life in this world and is comforted by Jesus when going through them.

Grace to you and peace, from God our Father, and from our risen Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Our text today is our Gospel reading, but in particular verse 50: “for they all saw Him and were terrified. But immediately He spoke with them and said to them, ‘Take courage; it is I, do not be afraid.’”

Let us pray: These are Thy Words, O Lord…

Many times we refer to life in metaphors, like: “smooth sailing” or speak of “rough waters” or “stormy weather ahead”.

There is a grand hymn, which we did not sing today because “Entrust Your Days and Burdens” fit better. Nevertheless, the hymn which I refer is: “Jesus, Savior, Pilot Me”. It was written by Rev. Edward Hopper in the nineteenth century when he was pastor of a New York church for mariners. While his parishioners often experienced the literal perils of the sea, many Christians have come to love the hymn, which speaks metaphorically of Jesus guiding us through life. We call out:

“Jesus, Savior, pilot me Over life’s tempestuous sea; Unknown waves before me roll, Hiding rock and treach’rous shoal. Chart and compass come from Thee. Jesus, Savior, pilot me” (LSB 715:1).

In the old days, ships often found themselves trapped in the midst of storms that suddenly blew in. Nowhere to go but ride ’em out.

Today is the last part of our mini-series on “Meaningful Ministry.” Shortly before he ascended into heaven, Jesus told his followers they were to engage in meaningful ministry—to work their way through the world, sharing the good news of salvation. Our loving Lord knew that was a big and often intimidating task. So, his next words were a promise. “And lo, I am with you always” (Matthew 28:20). We still need to hear that promise.

For several weeks, we have been discussing the reality that the Lord of the Church has called all believers to meaningful ministry, and it will come with challenges. It can cause fears to arise: the fear of rejection, the fear of inadequacy, the fear of persecution. So, listen again to your Savior. “I am with you always.”

We conclude this mini-series on meaningful ministry empowered by that gracious promise. For, you see,

Jesus Doesn’t Steer Us Clear of Every Storm, but He’s Right There with Us in the Middle of Them.

Jesus doesn’t steer us clear of every storm.

In our text, the disciples find themselves in a storm, and it comes at the end of a very long day (Mark 6:45–48a).

Jesus has just fed five thousand folks.

Word has just come of John the Baptist’s execution.

Huge crowds are looking to Jesus for healing.

Even Jesus is tired; he sends the crowds and his disciples away so that he can be restored in a time of prayer.

Surely Jesus, who created wind and rain and sea, could arrange some “smooth sailing” for them after a busy day like that. But no.

Jesus is busy praying, but apparently not for fair weather.

Just as he doesn’t always clear the skies for us, even when we think we can’t take another thing.

Perhaps you have a child battling cancer. It’s rough. The treatments are taxing, and we’re not really sure if it is going to work.

Then the phone rings and it’s your brother. He tells you that their only child—your favorite niece—was just killed in an automobile accident.

Jesus doesn’t steer us clear of all storms.

How we react to those storms in life can lead us away from Jesus, because it is not what we expected.

We may try to deny that storms will come or expect that as Christians we won’t experience storms, difficulties.

Like some televangelist attempt to convince their viewers that all your problems will go away, if you just ask Jesus into your heart.

We think, “If I just live a good, God-pleasing life, I will be spared.”

We may be so overwhelmed by storms that we just despair and forget that God is bigger than any storm.

Some are having difficulty making ends meet and their old car — their only means of transportation—just rode its last mile. How are you going to get to work? You can’t get a loan because your credit is horrible.

Or, through no fault of your own you just got laid off from your job, and you’re stressed over how you’re going to pay the rent and purchase groceries, when you find out that your ex has not made the tuition payment for your child’s school, and now the school is turning to you.

This same type of stuff happens in Parish Ministry too. Bills are greater than the offering plate income for several months in a row, and now we have our backs against the wall.

We try to take care of storms ourselves.

We need a plan, something tangible. How do we fix this?

Like the disciples who didn’t really grasp that Jesus is God, our hearts, too, become hardened because we fail to believe the promise, “And my God will supply your every need according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus” (Phil 4:19).

Because we never know what’s coming, we need to admit our inability to rescue ourselves and rely on Jesus for help in our unexpected storms.

Illustration: The U.S. Air Force’s 53rd Weather Reconnaissance Squadron, based in Biloxi, Mississippi, is known as the “Hurricane Hunters.” Its mission is to fly right into tropical storms to gauge their power and movements. No avoiding those storms. There’s much to be learned by going through them—all the way to the eye.

But just as actual hurricanes have an “eye” in their middle—so do our storms in life.

Hurricanes, you know, have that calm spot at the center around which all the winds swirl.

Instead of steering us clear of every storm, Jesus comes to us as the eye/I in the middle of them (Mark 6:48b–50).

“It is I!” Jesus was not just identifying himself, but identifying himself as true God, “I am.”

In walking on the water toward the disciples, Jesus walks where only God can walk.

This identification is reinforced when Jesus says, “ ‘Take courage! It is I.’ ” In Greek, “ ‘It is I’ ” (egō eimi) is identical with God’s self-disclosure to Moses. Thus Jesus not only walks in God’s stead, but he also takes his name.

It’s his invitation to us to call on him for help (in those storms cited as earlier examples) — because He is God and has promised to be with us.

Jesus goes through those storms with us, as he did when the sky became black as a storm on the day we call Good Friday.

Jesus was the hope, the I in the storm, for one of the men crucified with him: “Truly I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

Death is the final storm Jesus has conquered.

Therefore, he says, “Take heart! Fear not!”

Ministry is Meaningful because our Lord is with us wherever we go; and has promised that He will never abandon us.

We can live without fear, because Jesus’ death by taking away sin has reconciled us to God. And so, as we’re walking through those cancer treatments, or receive the news that a loved one just died in an accident, we know that regardless of what happens we are safe in the arms of our Lord.

And we can take heart as courageous Christians because death is not the end.

How do we react to storms calmed (Mark 6:51–52)?

Our first reaction may be astonishment.

But our next reaction is one of persistent prayer.

It may seem like God intends to pass us by, like he intended with the disciples that morning. But in reality the “passing by” is God revealing his presence to you.

Moses: Ex 33:22; 33:19; 34:6

Elijah at Mt. Horeb 1 Kings 19:11

Or Job 9:8, 11.

Job 9:8 NASB95

8 Who alone stretches out the heavens And tramples down the waves of the sea;

Job 9:11 NET

11 If he passes by me, I cannot see him, if he goes by, I cannot perceive him.

But we can see Him and now we know Him. We can now embrace our Savior in all the storms in life.

As we attend the Divine Service where we hear his voice declare to us that our sins are forgiven. The words of the absolution and the words of Scripture are his voice of assurance.

As we hear him say, “take, eat. This is my body… This is my blood.” When we eat his flesh and drink his blood, we not only have the assurance that our sins are forgiven, but He goes with us as we leave this sacred space returning to the world.

You see, Jesus removes our fear with His comforting presence. Therefore, we can go through the trails of life knowing that Jesus is with us no matter what.

Whether we see it or not (First Reading), whether other supports stand by us or not (Second Reading), whether we feel it or not (Gospel), the Lord is with us. Through it all, the Lord is there. Jesus removes his disciples’ fear by his comforting and powerful presence.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.