Title: “Jesus Takes the Reins”
Text: Mark 4:35-41
Day: Pentecost 7B (3rd Sunday after Pentecost)
Date: June 21, 2009
When I was growing up, my parents and I would go up north once every year to spend a week at a cabin near Gladwin, Michigan. I always loved going up there. I was able to do a lot of things that weren’t readily available to a kid growing up in the city. And one of these things was horseback riding. This was certainly a treat for me, and I made it a point to have my dad take me every year. I loved the way the horses looked. I loved the way I felt on top of one of those big beasts. I loved the scenery as the guide would take us through gorgeous meadows full of heather and alfalfa and wildflowers. It was always a pleasure…well, almost always.
The first year I went was maybe not the most pleasurable trip. After parking our station wagon in front of the stable, my dad and I found our way to the large front deck where we joined a group of people gathered around the tour guide. He was a tall, lanky man in full outfit: dirty jeans and chaps, cowboy boots, and, of course, a cowboy hat. He talked slowly, deliberately, and with a slight drawl. I looked around at the rest of the tour group. There were maybe 12 of us or so. It surely seemed like we were all city folk, except for maybe 1 or 2 of them. The guide spent the first 10 minutes or so giving us instructions on how to ride a horse.
“These are the reins. When you pull them to the right they go to the right, and so on. This is the mane. When you pull on the mane, the horse will buck you off. Here’s the point: Don’t confuse the mane and the reins.”
I decided right then and there that the instructions were important. And so I eagerly listened.
After the guide was done teaching us, he led us to the horses. I got to ride Shasta – a smallish horse with a good temperament. I was thrilled.
Then the guide started us down the trail and the 12 of us followed behind, single-file. I was towards the back with my dad. And I was having such a good time. The scenery was beautiful. It was peaceful. I was able to guide the horse, just like I had been taught. But then, after about a half an hour, I realized that I was no longer sitting on top of my horse. My saddle had moved, so that I was now sitting a little lop-sided. I didn’t know what to do. The guide never gave us instructions for what to do when something like this happened. So, I did what seemed to come rather naturally…I shrieked like a little girl!
The guide heard my cry, halted the group, and sauntered up next to me. And after a few quick alterations of the saddle and the stirrups, everything was restored to normal, and we were on our way again.
This event – though embarrassing – has helped me to understand a few things about life as I know it: first, shrieking like a little girl does get people’s attention; second, sometimes our troubles seem bigger than we can handle; and third, I don’t like it when things are out of my control.
Sound familiar? I would be willing to bet that many of you have come to know and understand these things at some point in your life. I bet you all can readily identify for me some time in your life when you found yourself dwarfed by a problem that loomed in front of you. I bet you can tell me about a time when you felt out of control and helpless in the face of some terrible situation. I bet you can do this because, unfortunately, this is the kind of world we live in – a world that seems to be dominated by chaos, and panic and trouble.
Sure, it might not feel that way to you right this moment, but surely you can understand that millions of people around the world (and maybe even some in this room) experience this chaos and panic and trouble every day. Imagine the two reporters who were caught in North Korea a few weeks ago. They have now been sentenced to years and years of hard labor in a North Korean prison. Within days their lives have been turned upside-down. You can be sure their world is now defined by chaos and panic and trouble.
Or think of the person who woke up this morning with a faint mysterious pain in their chest. It might be fairly easy to self-diagnose and call it the beginnings of a heart attack. And it might be easy for us to tell this person to go to the doctor immediately. But this person has no health insurance and no job. A trip to the hospital could cost thousands and thousands of dollars – especially if some special procedure is needed. In the blink of an eye, this person’s life – which was probably chaotic before this morning – has become almost unbearable.
Or we could think about the couple who is contemplating a divorce, or the person who has just been laid off from their job of 30 years, or the person who has just received that dreaded diagnosis of cancer. For each of these people, chaos and panic and trouble seem to define their lives quite readily. I’m sure they would love to cry out loud for someone to come take control of their lives once again.
And I think that’s why today’s Gospel story seems to speak so readily to us. This story is filled with chaos and panic and trouble, and the end brings us comfort that somehow Jesus is the one in control. But that’s certainly not how the story begins.
No, no…it begins with Jesus standing in a boat just off shore in the Sea of Galilee. In front of him a large crowd has gathered to hear him. He spends a great deal of time teaching this crowd about the Kingdom of God. He gives them examples and illustrations, and tells them that they should be on the look out for it. Then the crowd departs and it is just Jesus and the 12 disciples. They gather in a little closer to hear Jesus speak. And here, in this private little group, Jesus begins to instruct them. He explains everything about the Kingdom of God – about how it is small, but growing; about how it is present, but not fully here; about how it is seen most clearly in Jesus himself. And the disciples nod their heads, knowingly.
Then Jesus tells them that they should go to the other side of the lake. So the disciples, filled with their freshly obtained knowledge, climb in the boats and begin the nighttime voyage. In the middle of the night, however, a large storm arises. The boat begins rocking from side to side. The waves begins crashing into the hull. The disciples are being thrown all over the place. Everything had become chaotic. Jesus had never told them what to do in this situation! And so, understandably, in their moment of panic, they do what came rather naturally to them: they shrieked like little girls! They run to Jesus, who is somehow still asleep, and they try to invite him to join in their distress. “Teacher,” they cry, “don’t you care that we are perishing?!?!”
But Jesus does not add to their worry. He doesn’t create more panic. He doesn’t contribute to the chaos. Instead, he slowly awakes, wipes the little crusties out of his eyes, stands up and sternly rebukes the wind and silences the sea. “Peace,” he cried, “Be still!” And in an instant there was a dead calm. All of the sudden, everything was restored to normal, and the boats continued their journey.
At this point, as the seawater was still dripping off of their beards, the disciples start seeing Jesus in a different way. No longer is he just a guide. No longer is he just a Teacher. Now he is the one who can command the wind and the waves. Now he becomes the Lord in a very real sense to them. Now they see Jesus as one who has ultimate authority and control…even over chaos. There is no situation that is ultimately outside his control.
And it is this that brings comfort to those of us who are struggling in our chaotic, panicked, troubled world. We might feel like our lives are careening out of control, we might feel like the situations in which we find ourselves are swallowing us whole, we might feel like the world is shifting under our feet – but these situations do not have the final word. Jesus does. Jesus is ultimately in control. In the end, it is Jesus who will guide us safely home. In the end, we will find that it is Jesus who is holding the reins.
Thanks be to God!
