Mark 4:35-41
35 Later that day, when evening came, Jesus said to them, “ Let’s cross over to the other side of the lake. ” 36 They left the crowd and took him in the boat just as he was. Other boats followed along.
37 Gale-force winds arose, and waves crashed against the boat so that the boat was swamped. 38 But Jesus was in the rear of the boat, sleeping on a pillow. They woke him up and said, “ Teacher, don’t you care that we’re drowning? ”
39 He got up and gave orders to the wind, and he said to the lake, “ Silence! Be still! ” The wind settled down and there was a great calm. 40 Jesus asked them, “ Why are you frightened? Don’t you have faith yet? ”
41 Overcome with awe, they said to each other, “ Who then is this? Even the wind and the sea obey him! ”
Let the words of my mouth
and the meditations of my heart
be pleasing to you,
LORD , my rock and my redeemer.
This is a stewardship sermon. Get out your wallets and checkbooks.
I kid. I mean, if you want to dig those out and give again this morning, that’s okay. I’m not going to stop you. But this is a sermon on stewardship writ large.
Essentially, it’s a sermon on trust.
Because the people of Israel had a problem. His name was Goliath, and he was a big problem.
And do you remember a couple Sundays ago when the people of Israel decided that they couldn’t trust God to lead them; that they just had to have a king? Well, this is an early outcome of that decision.
Because before, the people Israel hadn’t really been a concern to neighboring nations. After the throne is established, those problems increase. Considerably. Having a king, some centralized power, affords an easy target, whether that’s Saul, David, George Bush, or Barack Obama. They’re really easy targets.
So Israel is at war against the Philistines, because some things never change, and Saul is discovering that his troops are in trouble. And this Goliath rabble rouser is, well, rousing the rabble.
Everybody’s stressed out and worried, and nobody wants to take on this nine-foot-tall behemoth with his sword the size of, I don’t know, a pig trough. And along comes David, fresh from the sheepfold and a brand new addition to Saul’s court, and he says:
Chill, y’all. I got this.
It’s a sermon on trust.
Because the disciples are freaking out when the storm comes up and starts flooding the boat, and Jesus, like Jonah, is fast asleep.
Rabbi! We’re dying here!
<YAWN!> SRSLY? You woke me up for this?
Chill, y’all. I got this.
It’s a sermon on trust.
Because we can’t recognize God’s ability to provide for us. We don’t witness to that in our tithe and in our gifts in a Church whose average giving is around 2.5%.
We bring out checkbooks and our wallets on Sunday morning, and we take them out for the offering, and we worry!
But God says,
Chill, yo. I got this.
It’s a sermon on trust.
Because our churches dream little. And we have plenty of excuses for doing so:
Giving is down.
Attendance is down.
We’ve never done that before.
No other church is doing that around here.
We’ve always done it this way.
It won’t bring people in.
It’ll bring the wrong people in.
It’ll damage our building.
Blah, blah, blah.
Our churches dream little because we’re afraid. We’re trying to turn our churches into businesses. And I know there is some precedent for that, and that feels like what our Methodist structures suggest.
But the simple fact is this: the structures exist to make ministry more efficient. And if they’re really getting in the way, the structures can be adjusted.
Uh, huh. I just said that.
We dream little because we’re afraid of God’s Great Big Dream for us.
Because we don’t hear God saying:
Chill, y’all. I got this.
This is a sermon about trust.
Because it’s something that you and I both need to work on. Trust of each other; trust of our families; trust of ourselves; but most of all, trust of God, who is always saying to us:
Chill, y’all. I got this.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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