Stilling
Fear
Mk.
4:35-41[1]
I think it’s safe to say that most of us have some
experience with fear. We all have some
kind of situation or thought that can instill a feeling of fear in us. As for me, I have a mild fear of
heights. When I was a Seminary student,
one of my jobs as a part-time security guard was to check two towers—each about
30 to 40 stories tall. And a tower check
started by going up on the roof and making sure it was secure! I’m also a bit uncomfortable around
snakes. I guess that puts me in company
with Indiana Jones! And, as I have mentioned
before, I have some mild anxiety being alone in a dark place.
These are fairly common kinds of fears. Many of us have other fears in common. Some of us fear the future because of all the
changes that have happened or are happening in our lives. Some of us fear losing our health, and being
dependent on others to take care of us. Some
of us fear being unable to support ourselves financially. Especially in these troubled economic
times. Some of us fear losing a loved
one, and the loneliness that would entail for us. And some of us fear the ultimate unknown,
death.
In our Gospel lesson for today, I’m somewhat intrigued
that Jesus asked the question, “Why are you afraid?” Some of his disciples were seasoned
fishermen, who knew the Sea of Galilee well and the dangers of a storm. Despite their best efforts at keeping the
boat afloat, it was beginning to sink!
We don’t know how far they were from land, but in Mark’s version of the
story, swimming for shore apparently wasn’t an option. Even the experienced fishermen knew that
their chances of surviving in open water under those conditions were not good.
So Jesus’ question strikes me. It makes me think that perhaps he wasn’t just
asking the obvious question. In the
follow-up, he asks, “Have you still no faith?”
It seems to me that the question Jesus is really asking is about their
faith. One of the main themes throughout
the Gospels is that, despite all that they witnessed Jesus do and say, despite
all that they discovered him to be, over and over his disciples lacked faith.[2] It strikes me as ironic that the very ones
who were closest to him struggled just like everybody else to trust in him when
they were confronted with something that they didn’t understand, or that
instilled fear in them. Over and over,
they seemed all too willing to abandon their faith.
I think the questions Jesus asked of his disciples are
worth asking of ourselves. Why are we
afraid? Again, I don’t think that
necessarily applies to the obvious situations of our lives. There are some things that are simply
frightening, and it is only human for us to respond to them with fear. But it’s one thing for us to feel fear, and
it’s another thing for us to live in fear.
Too often, we don’t just feel fear, we turn it into something that
occupies our whole lives.[3] We don’t just feel fear, we let it move in
and take up residence. We don’t just
experience fear, we turn it into a giant, category-five storm that sends us
running for cover and cowering in bunkers.
Part of the problem with fear is what it does to us
when we give it that much power over our lives.
We cling to whatever it is we fear losing—we hold on for dear life! What we desperately fear to lose, we will
sometimes do anything to keep. In the
process we try to control what we cannot control, we try to cling to what we
cannot hold, and we can become incredibly selfish, childish, and even angry and
bitter when things don’t go the way we hoped they would.[4]
I think Jesus’ question addresses our tendency to obsess about the things we
fear to the extent that fear controls our lives. It addresses the problem of what fear does to
us when we give it that much power over us.
But I think his other question can help us here as
well. Have we still no faith? I don’t think this applies to the content of
what we believe so much as our ability to hold onto a basic trust in God no
matter what. We say we believe God is a
God of love, and that God loves us unconditionally. But the real challenge is to entrust
ourselves, our loved ones, our hopes and dreams, our very lives into the care
of this loving God—especially when we’re afraid.[5] The only way to do this is to let go whatever
it is we’re afraid to lose—whether our health, our financial security, our relationships,
our even our very life. If the essence
of fear is trying to control, the essence of faith is letting go.[6] When we can do that—when we can let go, we
find peace, and contentment, and even joy taking the place of fear—regardless of
our circumstances.[7] I’m not going to pretend that this is easy,
because it’s not. The challenge is to
look beneath the fear and see the sustaining hand of the God of grace and
mercy, even when life’s twists and turns are so frightening. That’s something that we have to do day by
day, hour by hour, sometimes even moment by moment.
Faith is not a magic charm
that somehow protects us from loss or hardship or catastrophe.[8] Faith is basic trust—trust in the God who
says, “I will never leave you or forsake you” (Heb. 13:5).[9]
That doesn’t mean that bad things will
never happen to us. What it means is
that when they do, our faith keeps us from going under—or perhaps we should
say, the one in whom we place our faith keeps us from going under! When the fears of life come our way, if we
can simply let them be, let go of whatever it is we’re clinging to, and turn
our attention away from our fear to the one to whom we have entrusted our
lives, we find that even a giant storm can be stilled. Our faith can still our fears and enable us
to live our lives with joy and contentment
[1] © 2012
Alan Brehm. A sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 6/24/12 at First
Presbyterian Church, Dickinson, TX and at A Community of the Servant-Savior
Presbyterian Church, Houston, TX.
[2] See
Robert A. Guelich, Mark 1-8:26, 267-68. Cf. William F. McInerny, “An Unresolved
Question In The Gospel Called Mark: ‘Who
Is This Whom Even Wind And Sea Obey?’ (4:41),” Perspectives in Religious Studies 23 (Fall, 1996): 259.
[3] Cf. Pema
Chodron, Taking the Leap, 17. She says, “self-absorption, this trying to
find zones of safety, creates terrible suffering. It weakens us, the world becomes terrifying,
and our thoughts and emotions become more threatening as well.”
[4] Cf. also
Jürgen Moltmann, The Gospel of
Liberation, 102: “So long as man makes idols out of his life’s environment,
then his certainty of life is surrounded by anxiety. That makes him
malicious toward others.”
[5] Cf. Karl
Barth, Church Dogmatics
4.2:233-242. He says (p. 236), “The
distinctive feature of the New Testament faith in miracles is that it was faith
in Jesus and therefore in God as the faithful and merciful God of the covenant
with Israel; and that in this way and as such it was this confidence in His
power.” Cf. Lamar Williamson, Jr., Mark, 102, where he suggests we might
paraphrase Jesus’ question: “Why are you
afraid? Do you not yet trust God, whose rule is present in me?”
[6] Cf. Pema
Chodron, When Things Fall Apart, 14,
where she emphasizes that we can respond to fear in this way by taking it as “a
message that it is time to stop struggling and look directly at what’s
threatening us.”
[7] See Thich
Nhat Hanh, Peace is Every Step, 52. He says that not clinging to and not
rejecting our feelings but letting go is a way to not only learn about
ourselves but also helps us discover the peace and happiness available in the present
moment.
[8] In fact,
the reason Mark was writing his gospel was to assure Christians of his day that
God was with them in their sufferings. See Pheme Perkins, “Gospel of Mark,” New Interpreters Bible VIII:581;
Guelich, Mark 1-8:26, 269. Cf. also Jim
Callaghan, “Weatherproof,” The Christian
Century (June 7, 2000):643; and Barth, Church
Dogmatics 4.3:733, where he argues that Mark uses this story to remind the
early church that Jesus is “the sure basis of their existence as his people.”
[9] The
author to the Hebrews is adapting the Greek translation of Deut. 31:6,8 here.
