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

 Today's Gospel is filled with questions, much as we are when our lives are in a state of upheaval.  The disciples ask Jesus: Don't you care if we die?  Jesus asks His disciples: Why are you afraid? Don't you believe?  The disciples ask each other: Who is this, whom the wind and sea obey?

 It was Jesus' idea to go to the other side of the Sea of Galilee that evening. The fishermen among the disciples might have had another plan. They knew the shiftiness of the winds that blew across the mountains. They knew how quickly storms could kick up in the evening. They respected the sea, even feared it. Fishermen tended to be a superstitious lot when it came to the sea. They knew how quickly a boat could capsize and a man could drown. The sea was symbolic of Death itself, the great Deep. What does a carpenter know about sailing, anyway? But this was Jesus, after all, the One who healed people with a touch and cast out demons with a word. So why not?

 They loaded Jesus into their little boat and set out on the Sea. As the air cooled, the winds picked up, howling over the hills and blowing like a mighty breath over the water. It was an echo of Genesis 1 all over again, when the Spirit of God blew over the swirling waters of creation. Or the Exodus, when the breath of God parted the waters of the Red Sea.

 But the disciples weren't thinking theologically. They were thinking, "we're gonna' sink." The waves were swamping over the sides; the disciples were being tossed around. Matthew, the former well-to-do tax-collector, accustomed to the firm ground of a tax office under his feet, was probably turning a sickly gray-green color, leaning over the side, contemplating feeding the fish. Even the fishermen were panicked. "All hands on deck! Start bailing! We're taking in water! Whose idea was it to go sailing, anyway?"

 Meanwhile Jesus was sound asleep on the captain's cushion inside the stern.  He couldn't have been more at peace, or more in control. He's the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. He's the Word who told the waters of creation, "This far you may go and no further," who separated sea and dry land. This storm is no more threatening to Jesus than a dip in a Jacuzzi.  If the boat goes under, Jesus goes with them. They couldn't be safer. There was no safer place on the face of the earth than that sinking little boat with a sleeping Jesus at the helm.

 How far do we trust Jesus? Do we trust Him when He seems oblivious to our situation? When our lives in danger? When He doesn't seem to be paying attention?  Do we trust Him with our lives, when chaos threatens to sink us?

 The disciples didn't. For the Twelve, a sleeping Jesus was as good as no Jesus at all. They trusted Him enough at least to grab him by the shoulders and shake him and wake him up. They trusted him enough to say, "Teacher, don't you care if we drown?" But they didn't trust him enough to let him sleep through the storm.

 Where Jesus is, there the storms are sure to come. Christians who are blessed by the presence of Jesus in His Word and Supper are sure to have trouble. You never know when and where the storms will come. When Jesus enters a life, when He baptizes a person and forgives them and feeds them and grants them faith in His saving death and resurrection, then the winds of temptations and the waves of trouble are sure to follow. Jesus warned his disciples. "Don't think that I've come to bring peace; not peace but a sword."

 His disciples needed to learn what it means to pray, "Thy will be done," trusting that God's will is truly a good and gracious will. They needed to learn, not by words but also through experience, that Jesus is Lord even when He is asleep, even when He hangs dead on a cross, even when He's buried in a tomb, even when it appears as though He's lost control. And he is lord not only over the devil and demons and diseases. He is the Lord of heaven and earth, the One through whom everything was made and in whom everything holds together. There isn't anything outside of Jesus' lordship.

 And so Jesus sends His disciples out into a storm in a little boat with no protection but Himself. Their boat can't save them. Their strength can't save them. Their knowledge and ingenuity can't and swimming ability can't save them. Only Jesus can save them, and He appears weak and weary, asleep on the pilot's pillow.

 Don't you care? the disciples ask him. "If you cared, you would do something. Bail, at least.
Don't just sit there. Do something, if you care." Of course Jesus cares. He cares that they were in danger of perishing, though death isn't the worst that can happen to us. Jesus became a flesh and blood human being because he cares. He preached the good news of God's reign because he cares. He healed the sick and cast out the demons and absolved sinners because he cares. He hung on a cross and died because he cares.

 He speaks His Word because He cares. He stood up in the sinking boat, and rebuked the wind and the waves. "Be quiet! Be still!" Those are the very same words he used to silence the demons. Be quiet! Be still! And like the devils, the wind and the waves obeyed him. The wind died down. There was a great calm. All it took was a couple of words from Jesus' mouth.

 Out of chaos, God creates. Through testing and trouble God forges faith, the way steel is forged in fire. We tend to think that things are going well with God when everything is peaceful and quiet, when our lives are in order, health is good, the marriage is strong, the family is at peace, the sky is blue, the sun is shining. But the Spirit's faith-work often goes on in the storm, in the chaos of suffering, testing, temptation, in the unexpected storms, when we suddenly realize we have no control over our lives.

 "Why were you so afraid," Jesus asks his disciples. "Why do you let wind and waves scare you when I'm with you? Do you still have no faith?"  Good question. Why are we afraid when our safety is threatened? When our health fails? When the doctor brings bad news? When our financial situation is thrown into chaos? When the winds howl and the waves threaten? It's because we don't trust Jesus, at least not fully, not with our whole heart, soul, and strength. We reserve a bit of control for ourselves. We keep one hand on the rudder, just in case God doesn't know where He's going.

 We're afraid because we think we're in control. We think we can save ourselves. We think God needs a wake up call to get him moving. We think it all hangs on us. That would be frightening! The good news is that we aren't in control. Jesus is.

 We forget that Jesus does His best work sound asleep–or dead, to be more accurate. He reconciled the whole world to God in the sleep of His death on Good Friday. There's the power of God to save, when Jesus appears most powerless, most out of it, most unable to do anything constructive. When He's hanging dead and naked on a wooden cross and all the people are standing around mocking Him and spitting on Him and insulting Him, that's when He is most powerful to save.  For that's when your sins are taken away and your death is conquered.  And then on the third day He reveals that by rising to calm the sea forever.  In fact in the book of Revelation it says that in the new creation there will be no more sea–no more deep, no more death.

 Until then, Jesus is with us, and we are with Him in His little boat, His church. In Christian art, the church is often pictured as a little boat riding on top of the waves, like what is pictured on the front of the bulletin. That's what the church looks like in the world. Dangerous, precarious, always on the verge of sinking. But things couldn't be better. Jesus is there in the back of the boat, guiding us through the storm.

 What's left to fear with Jesus at the helm? Wind and water? Famine? Fire? Earthquake? Disease? Devil? Death? St. Paul says, "No. In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future nor any powers, neither 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."

 Recall the little boat, the wind and the waves, and Jesus sleeping at the helm when you face your times of fear and uncertainty.  There is no need to fear or panic, because Jesus is in it with you. He is in control, in His own quiet, humble, and hidden way. Don't be fooled by what you see. The power of God is hidden behind the exhausted man asleep in the boat, the broken man hanging dead on a cross. His powerful Word that stills the storm is there to save us, submerged in baptismal water, spoken in the quieting word of forgiveness, given in the bread that is His body, the wine that is His blood.

 Who is this, that even the wind and the sea obey? It is Jesus, the Son of God, the Lord of creation, our Savior and Redeemer. Trust him when it looks as if your boat is about to go under. Trust Him even when He seems to be asleep. Trust Him with your life and with your death. He cares for you. He died for you. He rose and reigns for you. He is strong to save you. Stronger than your sin. Stronger than your death. Stronger than the wind and the sea that do His bidding.

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

(Much of the above was adapted from a sermon by the Rev. William Cwirla of Hacienda Heights, CA.)