Faith in the Storm

sermon by Torin Eikler
Mark 4:35-41 Job 38:1-11

It’s all well and good to sing about joys flowing like a river or giving our fears to the winds. That is what we should be doing, releasing our burdens and our fears to God and receiving the gift of joy in return. But it’s so much harder in real life. Growing up, as I did, in the Midwest, it’s particularly hard to sing that with feeling and authenticity. Tornadoes were a big specter in our childhood lives, and whirlwinds bring feelings of fear and awe rather than the promise of relief. When the wind comes, I tend to run away and hide rather than embrace it. The words of “When the storms of life are raging” come a little closer to my way of thinking.

Yet, storms, too, are a little iffy for me. While I love to watch the play of lightning on the canvas of the sky, I can’t help but head inside and count the seconds between light and sound to see just how close those striking flashes of electricity are … just in case. And, the story of the disciples on the Sea of Galilee took on new life and reality for me when I found myself in a storm-tossed boat in the Galapagos archipelago some years ago.

I was visiting my Mom in Ecuador at the time, and I got to join the group of exchange students she was responsible for their end-of-the-year trip. As a student of biology, I was terribly excited to visit those islands with all their unique wildlife, and the trip was wonderful. But, on one memorable night a storm came up while I was sleeping on the top deck of the smallish boat taking us around. There really wasn’t any rain to speak of, but the winds were something else.

I woke up when the boat started rocking pretty badly to the beat of eight or nine foot high waves, and I remember thinking I was probably safer lying down on the deck than trying to get to the stairs down to the main level. But, I changed my mind when the spray from a few waves coming over the bow-rail splashed across my face. It would have been very comforting at that moment to feel Jesus standing there beside me as I pulled myself along, crawling with my hand on the low wire “railing” at the edge of the tossing deck.


I have found myself feeling the same way at times when my life is in upheaval, and I know from what other have shared with me that I’m not alone. We all feel lost and helpless when we hear news about health problems among our families and friends. It’s hard to release our fears of what people will think of us if we do anything out of the ordinary. We can’t just stop worrying about where the money is going to come from to pay our mortgage or send our children to college. The list goes on and on and tossing all that into the wind could lead to it blowing right back in our faces. In the midst of the storm, it often seems like our fears and our worries are the only solid things left to hold onto. They are the little scrap of a boat that stands between us and the rising waves, and most of us aren’t really ready to “let go and let God.”

That kind of faith grows through practice. Each time you really do cast your fears to the wind, it gets a little easier – especially if things have worked out for you before. But boy that first time is hard. Come to think of it, so are the second and the third. It doesn’t help that we are generally taught self-reliance and self-sufficiency. Our parents (if they have done their job well) tell us that the ultimate mark of maturity and independence is when we can move out of the house, get a job, and pay our own way. Our society underlines that message with its stress on getting ahead and its ridicule for anyone who moves back in with mom and dad (although the current economic circumstances may be changing that). With all that pressure, it seems to take a whole lot of practice to get to the point where it actually gets easier … if it ever does.


It’s easy, you know, to think that the disciples had that kind of faith. In the midst of their storm, they woke Jesus up to help them, and he calmed the storm. And, that’s what we’re talking about isn’t it – turning to God to calm our fears and our uncertainty? But that last verse makes me wonder if they weren’t in the same boat we are. If they are left asking who Jesus really is to still the winds with a word, were they really expecting a miracle when they woke him?

Most of those in the boat that day were experienced sailors. It almost certain that they would have been caught out fishing when a storm came up before, and they probably knew what they needed to do to get through it all. I suspect that they might have been more frustrated that Jesus wasn’t helping out and woke him hoping for another hand at the sails or the bailing buckets rather than expecting some kind of miracle. I’m not sure it had to do with faith at all. Put in another way, the disciples may have woken Jesus more because they were hurt by his indifference to their plight rather than because they wanted him to save them. If there was faith there, it seems like it was just as sleepy as Jesus.


There is another story about a sailor at sea in the midst of a storm. It takes place in the Gulf of Mexico on a lowly shrimp boat with just two sailors and no sleeping messiah on board. And, if you haven’t guessed already, it comes from the movie Forrest Gump.

In that story, Lt. Dan – who has lost both legs from the knees down in a battle in Vietnam – is out trolling for shrimp with his resented rescuer, Forrest Gump. While they are fishing the Gulf, a hurricane blows up and catches them away from the harbor. As the skies darken with threatening clouds and the winds rise, the two work seal up the ship, preparing to ride out the storm, but Lt. Dan refuses to go into the relative safety of the bridge.

When the hurricane begins to hit its stride, he lifts himself up the center mast and lashes himself to the top. As the wind increases and the rain and the waves whip across the boat, he begins shouting and cursing – challenging God and the fury of the storm. And, there he stays throughout the night venting his anger, releasing all his frustration at the way his life has turned out and his fears about his future.

In the morning, Forrest comes out on deck in the light of a glorious sunrise and finds Lt. Dan smiling as he tosses himself over the side for a short swim. In the narration, Forrest speculates that his friend has finally made his peace with God.


Now that’s faith that’s awake and alive. That’s a faith that is not afraid to answer the question of who Jesus is, that has already answered that question by acknowledging the author of the storm. It’s a faith that knows it’s talking to (challenging even) the One who laid the foundations of the earth, stretched stars across the heavens, and put the boundaries of the sea in place, and it’s the kind of faith that give us the courage to cast our burdens to the winds. And, if Forrest is to be believed, it really can free us to receive peace and joy in return.

I feel pretty safe in speculating that all of us would pay enough attention not to be caught on a boat in the middle of a hurricane. And, if we were, I think we would all find ourselves sitting inside with Forrest rather than on the top of the mast with Lt. Dan. Still, we do often find ourselves right at the center of unexpected storms all the time.

Of course, I’m speaking metaphorically here, and the storms that catch us off guard are life experiences that upset our peaceful voyage through the days. The loss of treasured loved ones is a big one. Changes in the work place that leave us jobless or facing a big move to a new place can be turn us on our ears. Difficult relationships with abusive or depressed partners, disagreements with friends or family, even the simple struggles of getting along with parents or children can catch us up and spin us around until we aren’t quite sure who we are or what we really want anymore.

And even though everything is easier when it’s just acting in a movie, and it’s much, much harder to live embrace the vibrant faith that offers all our struggles up for God’s care or screams in the face of the whirlwinds that blow through our lives, we still have to face the question: are we awake and strong in our faith or are we just a little bit sleepy and unsure or ourselves and the power of our messiah?

All our justifications and excuses aside, do we have the faith and the courage to answer the question the disciples ask? Can we stand up and say that the One we follow is the Son of God – One with the power to calm the storms without and within? And if we can – if we do – do we still have the courage no only to turn and recognize that same One in our little boats with us but also to reach out for embrace that promises us release?

As difficult as it can be to make it through the storms of life on our own … as much as we often feel all alone in the midst of the struggle despite our claim that Christ is always with us … it is still difficult to step out of the boat in faith. It’s scary to let go of the fear and worry that we know and reach out, trusting that our Father with his great whirlwind of power will hold us with tender and caring hands. Yet, the promise of our teacher and Lord – the great claim of our faith – is that the God who loved us so much as to become one of us will save us if we but open our hearts and ask. If we can do that, there is hope for peace and joy. The worries and the fears that keep us holding onto the railing with white disappear with the storm, and we find that Jesus was there with us all along, holding us tenderly and calling us to wake up from the nightmare and see the beautiful, joyful sunrise.