Fourth Sunday after Epiphany

Have you ever noticed that the ceiling of the church looks like an up-side-down ship? This is no accident; it’s intentional. Ever since Christians began building churches, they have often been designed to resemble a boat – not just any boat, but a certain, very large, wooden boat. We do this because of Saint Peter words: “Baptism, which corresponds to [Noah’s Ark], now saves you” (1 Peter 3:21). In baptism God takes his dear children out of the stormy darkness of this world and places them dry and secure in the Holy Ark of his Christian Church on earth. It’s a good thing too, because as it was in the days of Noah, only those in the ark were saved. The same water that lifted up Noah and his family also drowned the whole unbelieving world.

Noah had a great big ark, but the disciples had a little boat. If you had to go out to sea, which one would you choose? The great big ship, or the tiny rowboat? I’ll tell you which one I’d choose: whichever one Jesus is in. It’s impossible for men to build an unsinkable ship – we tried that once – but if you’re in the boat with Jesus, then you’re safe. It doesn’t matter how great the waves or how small the boat, nothing can harm you if you are with Jesus.

I suppose the disciples would have agreed with this in principle, back when they were standing on the shore, back when the sun was shining and the wind was calm. But things tend to change once the trouble begins. This is when our faith gets tested. “I know Jesus promised that nothing can snatch me out of his hand. I know God’s Word tells me that all things work together for my good.” It’s easy to believe and confess this before the storm – and so we should – but it’s hard to hang on to faith when the waves are crashing over the side of the boat. It’s hard to remember the promises of Christ when everything you see, hear, touch, taste, and smell tells you that you’re going to drown. It’s natural to trust our senses, but we must learn to trust in the promises of Christ instead.

The disciples heard the wind, they saw the waves, and they probably did what any good sailors would do: they rowed hard for land. This isn’t the time for slacking. Either fish or cut bait, as the saying goes. There’s no room for any dead weight. In fact, the sailors on Jonah’s ship even threw their cargo overboard to lighten the ship. Better to be poor than dead.

Can you imagine the scene? The wind is shrieking, the waves are roaring, the men are laboring franticly, and the boat is sinking. And where is Jesus in all this? Weren’t things supposed to go better with him on board? Where is the victorious Christian life now? Where are all those things that are supposed to work together for my good? You see, while the disciples are fighting for their lives, Jesus is at the back of the boat. He’s not rowing. He’s not bailing. He’s not helping in any way. The man who’s supposed to be our Savior is sound asleep on a cushion.

Matthew records that they went and woke him, saying, “Save us, Lord; we are perishing” (Mt 8:25). That’s not all they said. Mark adds, “Don’t you care?” (Mk 5:38). There is a bit of an accusation here, but it’s not completely faithless. The disciples did have faith, just not much of it. “I’m sure you do care, Lord, but from where I’m sitting, it doesn’t seem like it.” Yet, however small our faith may be, it is still faith that cries out, “Lord, save us! We are perishing!” Because you have the Holy Spirit, you do have faith. So you do know and believe that Jesus does cares. Even so, the sinful nature is always filled with doubt, especially when the boat appears to be sinking. Your senses scream out that you’re going under for the last time. The situation is far beyond your control. And that is a great blessing!

Remember that promise that all things work together for your good? God is keeping his promise to you in the midst of the tempest. Yes, God cares. He cares about you just as he cared about the prophet Jonah – so much that he hurled a great wind upon the sea, and there was a mighty tempest on the sea, so that the ship threatened to break up (Jonah 1:4). Where was Jonah headed? Away from the presence of God. Away from the only source of life. Away from his Savior. The same place your sinful nature would happily lead you. So God sent a storm to bring Jonah back to him. All things work together for your good.

The Psalmist writes, “The Lord commanded and raised the stormy wind, which lifted up the waves of the sea. They mounted up to heaven; they went down to the depths; their courage melted away in their evil plight; they reeled and staggered like drunken men until they were at their wits’ end. And then they cried to the Lord in their trouble” (Ps 107:25–28a). When is it that you cry out for your Savior? Unfortunately, we tend to wait until things get really bad. Because our faith is weak, we often forget that we even need a Savior when the water is calm. And when the storm starts, first we grab an oar. “I can do this.” But things get worse, so we get a bucket. Soon we’re throwing the cargo overboard, but only when the situation is hopeless, when we have exhausted every other means, when we finally come to our wits’ end, do we cry out, “Lord! Save us! We are perishing. Don’t you care?”

Of course your Lord and Savior cares. That’s why he sent the storm – to bring us back to him, to strengthen our faith in him, to teach us that everything depends on being in the boat with Jesus. His power lies under the cover of apparent weakness. He’s a man asleep. That’s how it appears. That’s what we see. But this man says, “Peace. Be still.” The man who is asleep is the God who never sleeps or slumbers. The man who is weary in the back of the boat is the almighty Creator whose eternal Word holds the universe together. He is the true God who governs all things, including the tempest, for the sake of his Church. He is the second Adam who exercises the dominion over the natural world that the first Adam lost. And his Word, which brought order to the chaos and darkness of the waters of Creation, has promised you, “Nothing can snatch you out of my hand.” Nothing, neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord (Rom 8:38–39).

There is an unsinkable ship, but it is not made with human hands. It is the Holy Christian Church, of which our Lord himself is the Builder and Maker. It is the new Jerusalem laid upon the foundation of the apostles and the prophets, with Christ being the chief Cornerstone. It is one Body of Christ made of many members fitly framed together. God placed you into this body when he joined you to Christ in Holy Baptism. He placed you safe and secure in the Holy Ark of his Christian Church on earth. Here is the boat where Jesus has promised to be, and nothing else matters. That’s why we go to church. It’s why we eat and drink the Body and Blood of Christ. Where Christ is, where the Means of Grace are, where the pure Gospel and Sacraments are, there we are safe. Let the storms come; Christ is the victor. Let sin, death, and hell rage; nothing can harm you, for you are in the boat that belongs to Christ. Amen.