Who is this Man?

October 18th, 2020

Turn in your Bibles to Mark 4:35-41.

I don’t know the specifics of what you’re facing right now, but I know some generalities. There are forces beyond your control. They threaten your security, your comfort, and perhaps even your life. And you long for a deep rest in your soul. And sometimes it’s hard to find.

I know you are this way, because these things are part of the inescapable reality of being human. And I’ll show the cards: this text aims to help you. But not, perhaps, in the way you’d expect to be helped. This short passage is going to do something simple: It’s going to help you get a clearer picture of Jesus Christ.

We need this. We need to be inspired by the living Christ. We need to see him more clearly. We need a high and exalted view of the savior.

James Allen Francis once wrote: “He was born in an obscure village, the child of a peasant. He grew up in another village, where he worked in a carpenter shop until he was 30. Then, for three years, he was an itinerant preacher. He never wrote a book. He never held an office. He never had a family or owned a home. He didn't go to college. He never lived in a big city. He never traveled 200 miles from the place where he was born. He did none of the things that usually accompany greatness. He had no credentials but himself. He was only 33 when the tide of public opinion turned against him. His friends ran away. One of them denied him. He was turned over to his enemies and went through the mockery of a trial. He was nailed to a cross between two thieves. While he was dying, his executioners gambled for his garments, the only property he had on earth. When he was dead, he was laid in a borrowed grave, through the pity of a friend. Twenty centuries have come and gone, and today he is the central figure of the human race. I am well within the mark when I say that all the armies that ever marched, all the navies that ever sailed, all the parliaments that ever sat, all the kings that ever reigned--put together--have not affected the life of man on this earth as much as that one, solitary life.”

He’s changed millions of lives, and we want to behold him and be changed. Read Mark 4:35-31

The Setting

“On that day” probably goes back to chapter 4:1

“Let us go across to the other side” Jesus leads them into this.

“In the boat” - same from previous 4:1, cf 3:9

The Storm

Verse 37: “And a great windstorm arose, and the waves were breaking into the boat, so that the boat was already filling.”

“Great windstorm” - natural windtunnel, where the Sea of Galilee is situated next to the mountains

“Waves were breaking into the boat” - continual action, towering waves, rain pelting their faces like sand. The boat is filling, feet sloshing around as they try to bail.

THE CREATION GROANS.

God created the world, the wind, the seas.

Genesis 3, curse: thorns; storms.

The disciples fear DEATH. (Not being late, not wet food)

Our world.

The disciples are living in a world filled with dangers beyond their control that threaten their very lives. And so do we. We live in the same world. We live in the world of storms. There are hurricanes in our world. There are tornadoes in our world. There are earthquakes in our world. There are floods and fires and famines in our world. There are diseases, there are cancers, there are viruses, there are accidents, there are malfunctions, there are mistakes.

Every passing car. Every sprawling tree branch. Every invisible virus. The storm is actually making a significant point here: Our control is an illusion - we always live at the mercy of forces we cannot control.

One author writes: “You don’t know if your heart will stop before you finish reading this page. You don’t know if some oncoming driver will swerve out of his lane and hit you head-on in the next week, or if the food in the restaurant may have some deadly virus in it, or if a stroke may paralyze you before the week is out, or if some man with a rifle will shoot you at the shopping center. We are not God. We do not know about tomorrow.”

The disciples are faced with the reality that they are threatened by forces they cannot control.

The Accusation

38 “But Jesus was in the stern, asleep on the cushion.”

I have a brother in law who can fall asleep before the flight attendants start their directions, meanwhile I’m trying to make space for my knees without making an enemy of the person in front of me.

Jesus sleeps soundly. A sleep of exhaustion, a sleep of perfect trust.

High pressure situation reveals the heart.

“And they woke him and said to him, ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”

It’s hardly a question. It’s an accusation dressed up like a question. It’s an insult parading as a question. No, this is an accusation: they could have just said what they meant: “Jesus, you don’t care about us, do you? Here we are on the verge of death, and you’re not doing anything!”

Peeling back the layers - think like biblical counseling here - get to the heart

Facing a storm (important circumstance, but not the issue)

Afraid (good identify, but there’s a deeper issue)

Fear rooted in faithlessness (vs. 40) - Ah, very good. Is that the heart issue?

Faithlessness stems from getting the heart of Christ wrong:

“Do you not care?” - aims at the heart.

You see, the pressure of the moment revealed the hearts of the disciples: they didn’t trust the heart of Christ. At this point, they believed he had a heart that did not care. Friends, this is our heart’s tendency as well. Don’t for a second think otherwise. The care of Christ is so wonderful, so perfect, so self-giving, so generous, it is one of our most fatal flaws that we continually think of him as harsh, as unconcerned, as stingy, as disappointed.

Dane Ortlund, in his fantastic book Gentle and Lowly: The Heart of Christ for Sinners and Sufferers, writes, “Fallen, anxious sinners are limitless in their capacity to perceive reasons for Jesus to cast them out. We are factories of fresh resistance to Christ’s love. Even when we run out of tangible reasons to be cast out, such as specific sins or failures, we tend to retain a vague sense that, given enough time, Jesus will finally grow tired of us and hold us at arm’s length.”

Oh, church, this doubt of Christ’s care is devilish! It’s the lie of all lies!

What? The Lord of Love doesn’t care? The King of Mercy doesn’t care? Throw that lie back to the pit of hell, where it came from.

The Savior

His compassion. How great is the love of Christ! Why is he in the boat? Because he loved them and called them to himself. Why is he in the storm? Because he wanted to enter this cursed world to redeem it. Why will the Son of God go to the cross? Is it not because his heart burns with love for us? Is it not because he loves us with an everlasting love? Is it not because he has come to save us?

The matchless, boundless, generous, free, never-ceasing, always attentive love of Christ.

Look at verse 39. Of all the moods I can be in, the worst of them is probably the mood I experience when being jostled awake. My inner grizzly bear roars, “Who dare rouse me from my slumber?” But look at Jesus. Hysterical disciples are jolting him. They’ve just accused him of not caring that they’re about to die. And Jesus gets up and rebukes - not the disciples - but the wind. Oh, Jesus could have said, “Get over it - you’ll be fine.” But Jesus is by nature tender with those who are afraid. This does not mean he will fix every problem you face. But we do see that the inner impulse of his heart is to relieve the suffering of his beloved.

In fact, you could say that this event is a microcosm of the whole story of redemption. The whole fallen world is a raging storm which threatens death. All humanity, in sin and under judgment, will be swallowed up in it. And the faithless cry of humanity is “God does not care.” But Jesus enters the storm. Except he doesn’t still the storm by giving his word - he still the storm by giving his life. He perishes that others might live. He pays the penalty for those who trust him. And one day he will bring a great calm when he ushers in the New Heavens and New Earth.

His power. Jesus speaks to the wind, and the wind immediately ceases. He says, “Peace! Be Still! And the wind ceased and there was a great calm.”

I grew up water-skiing at Lake Mead every summer, and for the best water you’d have to get up early, as the sun’s rising, before all the motor boats and jet-skis are on the lake. Because then, at that point, the water was glass. Perfectly still.

This wasn’t only a miracle with the wind. If it was only him stopping the wind, the water would have kept sloshing around for hours before it became calm. But the water obeyed too. In an instant, the wind quit blowing. And the water supernaturally composed itself. The word “great calm” in Greek could be translated unruffled, like a freshly pressed, well-iron shirt. There’s not a single ripple on the whole lake - and it happened instantaneously.

Behold Jesus' power over nature. Remember, church. This is Jesus’ creation. He spoke it into existence. Listen to Psalm 29:3-9 “The voice of the Lord is over the waters; the God of glory thunders, the Lord over many waters. The voice of the Lord is powerful; the voice of the Lord is full of majesty. The voice of the Lord breaks the cedars; the Lord breaks the cedars of Lebanon. He makes Lebanon to skip like a calf, and Sirion like a young wild ox. The voice of the Lord flashes forth flames of fire. The voice of the Lord shakes the wilderness; the Lord shakes the wilderness of Kadesh. The voice of the Lord makes the deep give birth and strips forests bare, and in his temple all cry, ‘Glory!’

That wind was his wind. That water is his water. It recognizes the voice of its master. Every thunder cracks at God’s command. Every storm obeys its maker. Every earthquake is answering to its creator. This is why the writer of Hebrews says “He upholds the universe by the word of his power.”

Jesus has all power. Every ounce of power in the universe is Jesus.’ It’s on loan from Jesus. It’s his power in the supernova, it is he who powers our blazing sun, it is his power in the beating heart. Everyone and everything is contingent; everyone and everything depends upon Jesus.

Jesus is Almighty in Power and is unsearchably compassionate. Imagine if he were cold power, without compassion. He’d be no different than the storm. Or imagine if he were all compassion, but no power to help. No, he is omnipotent, and uses his infinite power to bless his people.

His concern. He asks his disciples, and his words skip through the centuries and confront us this morning. Memorize these words, and hear the living Christ speaking to you this morning: “Why are you so afraid? Have you no faith?”

Jesus’ main concern for them is not that they have an easy life. His questions reveal his concern: His desire for them is that they’re not afraid because they have faith. That’s what Jesus’ wants for his disciples: that we have a faith that renders us fearless.

“Why are you so afraid?” Make a list. Compile all the reasons for your fear. Finances are tight. Relationships are hard. My kids are out of control. My job is on the line. My health is compromised. There’s a virus out there. There’s a government encroaching upon our freedoms.

And hear Jesus say, “Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?”

Church, do you know who this Jesus is? He is so good, so holy, so perfect - we have no right to question his care for us.

I miss R.C. Sproul - the great theologian who died a few years back. I was recently rewatching a Q & A session where people could write in their questions. One question went like this: “I am trying to reconcile the death of my adult son whom I believe not to be saved with my Christian faith. How do I deal with my anger toward God and this long, dark night of the soul.”

This man has experienced something of the storm that is this fallen, cursed world. And he confesses that he’s angry at God - why? The same reason the disciples were, “God, do you not care? Don’t you care?” How do I deal with this anger I have against God?

Sproul: “Repent. And repent in dust and ashes. Crawl over glass in your repentance if you’re angry at God. There’s never been anything that’s happened to you in your whole life, including this great tragedy and most painful experience that could ever possibly justify being angry at God. There are 10 million reasons why he should be angry at you.

God does not owe us a life without pain and tragedy. He’s given us a life of grace and a promise of eternal felicity. And any being who does that for us 100% graciously can never righteously be the object of our anger, only of our gratitude... It’s devastatingly harmful for someone to be angry at God - no matter what.”

Now look at the disciples in verse 41: “And they were filled with great fear and said to one another, ‘Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?”

We can almost hear their small views of Jesus beginning to collapse. He is both infinitely powerful and unimaginably compassionate. The storm was scary, but look, their realization of who Jesus Christ is is scarier.

It is at this moment they realize that their lives are not in the hands of the storm, but in the hands of the Omnipotent Christ.

Everyone needs to hear this: your life is in the hands of Jesus Christ. He rules every storm. Every beat of your heart and breath of your lungs is a gift from him. You cannot outrun him, you cannot avoid him, you cannot ignore him. Scriptures say you will meet him on judgment day.

And it is this same Savior who, because of his compassion, died on the cross to bear the wrath of God that you deserve. He rose from the dead and he’s alive right now, and will soon return.

You must bow before him in repentance.