The Message, June 23, 2024: "Casting Off," Mark 4:35-41

Author: Rev. Scott W. Cousineau
June 25, 2024

 

“Casting Off”
A Message by Rev. Scott W. Cousineau
Mark 4:35-41

            Her name was Dixie … Dixie VII to be precise. She was a thirty-six foot Grand Banks Trawler. (I say “was” because her owner … her captain … passed away a few years ago, but she probably IS moored in someone’s harbor.) She sleeps four; two in the cabin in the bow and two in the captain’s cabin in the stern. She has a small galley kitchen and a seating/dining area.

            Her captain was a friend and colleague of mine that I had known since I was in high school. He was on the faculty of the Christian Youth Conference right down the street in Ocean Park, and he taught me how to sail. He was the one and only Reverend John Wilbur. Some of you may know him. He and his wife, Jane, were fixtures on the tennis courts in Ocean Park.

            John purchased the Dixie VII after he retired from the ministry, and every year he and his wife, Jane, would take her down the inter-coastal waterway and winter in the Florida Keys. Jane did not enjoy the first leg of the trip, so John usually invited a friend to “crew” with him. One year, he invited me. I thought, “Eight days on a boat with John Wilbur …. What could be better than that?!”

            We cast off from the marina in Woods Hole and headed out to sea. Slowly. I recall that our average speed was about eight knots. I asked John why we did not go any faster, and he simply replied, “What’s the rush?”

            The second night of our journey, we were anchored in the harbor on Block Island. I awoke to voices screaming and yelling. A storm had blown in during the night. The wind was wicked. Even though the harbor was sheltered, boats were crashing into one another. We were anchored on the outside of the fleet. John told me to let out more scope … some slack … on the anchor line so that the anchor would not pull out of the bottom. I did what John asked and we were fine. The Dixie did not budge an inch.

            Two days later, we were moored in a yacht club on a river in Connecticut. As we prepared to cast off, I heard the reports on the weather radio that another storm was brewing. I asked John if we should hunker down there to ride out the storm. ‘What’s the rush … right?’ Well, this time there was a rush. We had a reservation for that night at our next stop. We cast off our lines and headed out of the protection of the river … straight into the storm.

            And that storm was a doozy; worse than the one on Block Island. As we headed out of the mouth of the river, the waves were huge. The Dixie would surf down the back of one wave and nose-dive into the face of the next. The bow would plunge into the wave then pop out. I am not too proud to admit that I was terrified. I asked John if we should turn around and head back to the safety of the river. He said that it was too late. If we tried to turn around the waves would hit us broadside and we would swamp. I was at the tiller. He told me to head straight into the face of the waves. He said, “Trust the boat.”

            Let me pause and say that at that point I questioned my decision to crew with John for the trip. After all, John was an interesting character. John used to drive an old Volkswagen van. He left it unlocked with the keys in it. The van got stolen five different times! So, why did he continue to leave it unlocked with the keys in it? Because he always got it back.

            One day I was running errands with John. We stopped at a little grocery store. He got out of the van but left it in drive. I had to jump across the van and stop it before it crashed into the side of the store.

            On one of the sunny days on the boat trip, we saw some sharks swimming along beside us. A few minutes later, John decided that WE should go for a swim. I reminded him of the sharks, but he assured me that we would be fine.

            Obviously, we were fine. We survived the sharks, we did not crash into anything, and the Dixie VII was a very seaworthy vessel. She got us safely through that storm.

            The fishing boats from our scripture passage this morning were not nearly as seaworthy as the Dixie. When I was on my study tour in Israel, we visited a museum on the coast of the Sea of Galilee. In a sealed display they had the remains of a first-century fishing boat that they had pulled out of the floor of the lake. It was about twenty-five feet long, seven feet wide, and four feet deep. The gunwales … the sides of the boat … had to be low so that they could haul the nets when they were full of fish.

            There was not a lot of room for passengers, but when they did carry one, there was a spot in the stern where they could sit … or as Jesus did … recline. There was not a lot of room to work, but on this trip the disciples were not working the nets. The shallowness of the boats did make them susceptible to swamping. Waves could easily wash over the gunwales.

            And as we heard this morning, we wicked storm did in fact whip up. The nature of the Sea of Galilee made that a common occurrence. The “sea” was fairly narrow, only about seven miles wide at its widest point, and about twelve miles long. When a storm moved in, the wind would accelerate down the slopes of Mount Hermon and then accelerate even more as it went into the narrowing ‘wind tunnel’ of the lake. The result was violent storms that whipped up suddenly causing big and dangerous waves on the lake.

            That was the type of storm that hit the disciples’ boat in our passage. Some translations say that the storm “attacked” the boat, it was that violent. It was a storm wild and wicked enough that it terrified seasoned fishermen. The wind buffeted the boat, the waves crashed over the sides. The boat was sinking, and the disciples thought that they were going to perish.

            In the midst of their panic, they looked back and saw Jesus … asleep in the stern. How could he sleep at such a time as that?! Did he not care about the storm?! Did he not care about THEM?!

            In the ancient Hebrew scriptures, the ability to sleep soundly and peacefully was an indication that the individual had complete trust and faith in God’s power. We read these words in the Book of Proverbs:

            Then you will go on your way in safety,
    and your foot will not stumble.
 When you lie down, you will not be afraid;
    when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet.
 Have no fear of sudden disaster
    or of the ruin that overtakes the wicked,
 for the Lord will be at your side
    and will keep your foot from being snared. (Proverbs 3:23-26)

            When the disciples woke Jesus, they did not say, “Help! Save us, Jesus!” Rather, they were angry, upset that Jesus did not seem to care about them or their safety.

            (They did not have John Wilbur telling them, “You will be fine. Trust the boat.” Clearly, the boat was failing them.)

            Jesus was at peace. Jesus knew that God was with them. He knew that they could trust in God. But, there, in that moment, early on in their journey together the disciples were uncertain of who Jesus was. They were unaware of the power that he possessed. Even though they had seen him call the evil spirit out of a man, had seen him heal Peter’s mother-in-law and the man with the withered hand, they still did not comprehend who he was.

            I think that one of the reasons why Mark’s Gospel is the favorite of so many people is because the disciples are so relatable. Mark does not portray them as Super Disciples. Mark portrayed them as people full of questions and doubts and anxiety … just like the questions and doubts and anxieties that we possess.

            Some might ask, “How could the disciples NOT see and understand who he was?! They had first-hand experience. They had a front row seat. They walked with him and talked with him. How could they fail to understand?”

            Again, my answer is because they had never seen anything or anyone like Jesus before. Yes, they had seen him heal people and exorcise demons, but they did not have a frame of reference to see the whole picture yet. We see this episode from two thousand years away. We know the power that is yet to be revealed. We know how the story ends.

            Some translations saw that the disciples experienced “awe” when Jesus stilled the storm, but others say that they were “terrified.” In Hebrew, the word for “awe” is often translated as “fear,” but having said that, it is entirely possible that the disciples could experience awe and fear at the same time. “What Jesus just did was amazing!! But … normal, ordinary human beings cannot control the weather. Who is this guy?!”

            After the storm was quieted, Jesus did not say to the disciples, “Do not worry. I will not ask you to go out into deep water again. We will stay close to shore from now on.” No … he told them that they need to have more faith. In the mission that they have ahead of them, they cannot stay in shallow water, they cannot hug the shore. That is not where the good fishing is. They will have to cast off into the deep water. They will have to go into the dangerous waters again. They will have to have more faith.

            We were not in that boat with Jesus and the disciples, but we know what storms are. We know the storms that we experience in our lives. Jesus addresses our storms as well. Jesus knows that we too will experience the storms of doubt and anxiety. Jesus knows that we may experience storms so terrifying that we will become paralyzed with fear. Jesus knows that there may even be storms that will make us wonder if God even cares about us.

            To all of those storms, Jesus says, “Be still.” “Be still and know that I care.” “Be still and know that I am God.” “Be still and know that I am with you. Wherever you go, have no fear, for I am already there.”

            “Be still. I am with you.” Amen.

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