The sentence immediately before the passage that we heard from Mark's Gospel this morning reads this way.

With many parables, Jesus spoke the word to them as they were able to hear it. He did not speak to them without a parable, but privately to his own disciples he explained everything. You may remember that from last week. Jesus' style in teaching was that of telling stories. One parable after another. One illustration after another. There's never been anyone in the history of the world whose teaching style was so marked by word pictures.

Exactly the right illustration for every point. It's interesting to go back into the Old Testament and discover that one of the things that was prophesied of the Messiah was that when he comes, he shall speak in parables. The book of Psalms, for instance, says, I will open my mouth in a parable. I will utter dark sayings of things that have been hidden from the foundation of the world. There are certainly other people who have used parables from time to time. The Buddha, for instance, had a number of notable parables. Plato had the myth of the cave, which almost everybody studies at some point.

But I think it can safely be said, without exception, there is no one who so consistently wove his teaching out of parables. And this is just one more instance of the absolute perfection of Jesus' fulfillment of prophecy. I will open my mouth in a parable. And when he comes, that's precisely what he does. He teaches in parables. It's interesting.

We read that the common people heard him gladly. He was fun to listen to. But he also was sometimes very frustrating. Because some of those parables made you go away kind of scratching your head. Say, what did he mean by that? And that was almost, I think, deliberate and self-conscious on Jesus' part. At one point, you remember, he says a very strange thing.

He says, I don't speak clearly to the masses lest they understand.

You say, well, I thought he wanted people to understand.

My perception is that what he's saying here is out of his gentleness, lest we hear more truth more clearly, more quickly than we're able to cope with.

It's an interesting thing. The book of Romans picks up one of the questions that people love to raise about is God going to condemn somebody for something that he hasn't heard? And Romans answers that very, very clearly. The answer is no. God doesn't condemn people for what they haven't heard. but he does hold them responsible for what they have heard. So therefore it may well be an act of utter graciousness that Jesus would speak to us in parables lest in hearing too much, too quickly, too early we find ourselves actually condemned by the truth.

Mark Twain at one point said it's not the parts of the Bible that I don't understand that give me trouble. It's the parts I do understand.

Jesus speaks in parables.

But notice it says to his disciples he explained everything privately.

One can sense what might have been going on in their hearts as time after time the crowd is sort of standing around scratching their heads saying God is like an unrighteous judge I don't understand. What did he mean by that? Or Jesus says, you've got to forgive your brother 70 times 7. And the crowd is counting up.

Let's see, 487, 488, 489, 490. Now I can get him. He goes aside and explains that to his disciples privately. No, I didn't mean literally. I meant go on forgiving as much as God has forgiven you. Or the O'Henry endings to some of the parables. You know, everybody works out very well the story of the prodigal son, and there's the zinger on the end about the elder brother,

who is so unforgiving, uncharitable, unloving, that it turns out he's just as prodigal as the younger son who has gone and spent everything. The Pharisees are scratching their heads, could he have met us? Jesus steps aside and explains to his disciples privately. Now you can just imagine how they're feeling at this point. Well, we're on the inside.

I mean all those unwashed peasants out there who don't understand. But we have an inside track. We have a conduit to privileged information. We have it all together. I want you to remember that as we look at our passage for this morning. that's the background Jesus has been teaching all day long there's been a tremendous crowd there in fact such a large crowd he was on the shore of the Sea of Galilee and he had to borrow a boat and push off a few yards so that people could even see him and hear him he's been teaching all day long one sermon after another one story after another one illustration one parable after another now nightfall has come Jesus is absolutely exhausted, as well he might be.

He says, come on, fellas, let's go across the lake. And they pile into boats, and they start out into the middle of the Sea of Galilee. Sea of Galilee is about 13 miles long and about 8 miles wide, and it's surrounded by a system of hills and mountains, so that it's very, very typical that a storm could come up suddenly and unexpectedly with tremendous intensity. And apparently that's exactly what happened.

Somewhere out in the middle of the lake, Jesus has fallen asleep in the back of the boat, and all of a sudden out of nowhere, there's this tremendous storm. Wind is swirling around. The rain is beating down upon them. The waves are coming with such ferocity that they're lapping over the edge of the boat. And the disciples are panic struck.

Suddenly, we come to what I would suggest you may be two of the most important questions that we could ever raise. Sooner or later, in one way or another, most of us will have to raise these two questions. And it may just be that as we raise these questions, our faith gets real for the first time. Maybe. Isn't it true that most people tend to go along with a very kind of surface, sentimental, wishful, I hope so, sort of a faith.

Until crisis hits.

I think that's what happened to the disciples. Crisis hits. They fear for their very lives. They shake Jesus, wake up, wake up Lord. And the first question, don't you care that we perish?

that's when faith begins to get real don't you care Lord don't you care don't you see what's happening to me and I've gone along with that vague kind of surface faith and now I'm really in it and if he's real how in the world can this be happening to me Lord don't you care you can hear people raising that question when illness strikes or when there's the death of a loved one or when Bill's car blew its head gasket yesterday Lord don't you care

you've been waiting in line for two hours and you finally make it to the pump and they run out of unleaded Lord don't you care

begins to get relevant doesn't it

You get a nice manila envelope and you open it up and it says, we're auditing your taxes, and this is the one time that you fudged. Lord, don't you care?

Well, does he?

More profound way of raising the same question, how can a good God allow this to happen? You fill in the blank. Whatever this is, it might be something as silly, as trivial, as how could a good God allow me to slip on that banana peel? I mean, if He's good and He loves me, He doesn't want me to fall and break my coccyx.

How come He didn't pull it out of the way? Everything from that to how can a good God allow Holocaust in Germany?

if there's a God in heaven and if He's good, He's against evil and if He's all-knowing, He knows it's there and if He's all-powerful, He can do something about it. How can a good God allow this to happen? Have you heard that question?

I suspect more people have abandoned their faith because of that question than for any other.

Lord, don't you care?

well I want to suggest to you this morning that there are at least three answers to that question or three parts to the answer and it might be very helpful to get reflective about it for a few moments this morning

couldn't God intervene? yes he could absolutely no doubt that he could change whatever it is that is bothering me at this particular moment But let me turn the question around for you. Next time you find yourself sort of demanding, God, why don't you do something? Let me ask you, how far do you really want God to intervene? I mean, we might agree, you know, that it would be lovely for God to stamp out oppression in all the world.

Until somebody accuses us of being the oppressors. Maybe your employees say you've really been unjust and arbitrary. Maybe your wife says, how come it's always your way?

Your kids say, you're really awfully heavy-handed, Dad. We say, we want God to intervene and stop oppression until, in some small way, we become the oppressors. Then we're not so sure that we want God to intervene. Think about it. I know this is awfully philosophical, but think about it. If God were to intervene at every point that we would find ourselves harassed and hurting and difficult in difficult straits,

it doesn't take very long before the world ceases to have any meaning to it. God could certainly change absolutely every circumstance in which I find myself hurting. He can create a world in which there is no pain, no suffering, no death, no sin, no oppression, no bad choices whatsoever. But if He intervenes at every single point where we're about to make a bad choice, our choices don't mean anything. If He protects me continually from the way the world is, the world doesn't mean anything.

For instance, if bricks have a certain kind of a character by which I can build a cathedral with them, have a certain density, a certain mass, a certain hardness, they have characteristics that enable me to build a cathedral, then they retain those same characteristics if I choose to hit you over the head with them.

Now yes, God could intervene and turn that brick into a feather. at the moment I'm about to misuse it, but that's no longer a real world. Do you see what I'm saying?

How far do you really want God to intervene?

It might be that you cease being a real human being. He begins to protect us from all of the bad choices that we might make. We end up becoming marionettes. Could be a very beautiful world, but it's just an extension of God Himself. and he didn't want that. He wanted a real world in which real decision lead to real consequences.

That's the first part of the answer. It seems to me, as I say, that's very philosophical. But the second moves to where we really live and it's this, that Scripture promises absolutely clearly from one end to the other that if we will trust God in the midst of our difficulty, whatever it might be, He will turn it into blessing.

Now there's two things we must not say. One, we must not say God is the author of evil. Book of Job, which really raises this question. That's what the book is all about. The book of Job makes it very clear God has allowed Job to suffer pain, illness, bereavement, loss of job, loss of income, loss of home. God did not himself send any of those things.

Satan is the one who would harass us. God is not the author of evil. But God will use it. God will use even evil if we'll allow him to. Second thing we must never say is that evil isn't evil. That evil is good. We must not say that. It's real evil. Those things are an offense to God as much as to us. But the wonder of redemption is that God will take real evil and turn it into genuine blessing.

And you don't have to look any farther than that. The greatest evil in the history of the world, God turned into the greatest blessing in the history of the world. And that's his promise. I want us to grab that because I know some of you this morning are up against it in some way. There's illness in your own life or in your family. There's loss of job. There's worry about income. There's any number of things. This is where we really live.

and God's promise to you is, trust me in the midst of it, and I'll turn it into blessing. Now, God could have protected you, could have padded you with swaddling clothes, put you in a room where nothing would ever hurt you. But instead, he trusted you to go out into the real world where there's real pain, and he said, I'll walk with you. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.

That doesn't say there's no evil. It says, I won't fear it because thou art with me. I was talking with a lady this week whose child is desperately ill. She said, I don't know if I can face it. She said, may I remind you of what Scripture says in 1 Corinthians. God will not allow you to get into a circumstance too deep, too trying for you to handle. But he will, with that problem, supply you strength and vitality to face it day by day.

That's his promise. You see what I'm saying? Pain, suffering, any of these problems, whatever they might be, are opportunities for us to make a decision. Will I shake my fist in the face of Almighty God, get angry and bitter and turn against him, or will I trust him? and discover a deeper resource of his provision than ever before.

Scripture says that Jesus himself learned obedience by the things he suffered. Though he was a son, though he was a perfect son, he went to a deeper level of perfection by what he went through trusting God. See, God wants something more than your pleasure. Maybe you'd settle for your pleasure.

But God wants something deeper. He wants you to be conformed to the image of Christ. And He'll use even real evil

to conform you to that image as you trust Him. So Romans 8 ends with that marvelous affirmation. Nothing shall separate us from the love of God, neither height, nor depth, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come. Nothing. will separate us from the love of God.

And that's our resource. If we trust Him.

The third part of the answer we find in our story this morning. When Jesus awakes, He immediately rebukes the storm and it stops. And then He turns to His wavering disciples and with a note of astonishment, I think, In his voice, why were you afraid?

Have you no faith?

Having said all that we've just said,

Jesus says, I can intervene.

And I will intervene.

And I'll do so more thoroughly and perfectly than you ever dared to think.

Don't you have faith? We look back at what it was that he was teaching his disciples that day. And we see such parables as the grain of mustard seed. If you have faith, there's a grain of mustard seed. You can move mountains. They heard that. Did they understand it?

And we sit there sometimes saying to ourselves, we've got it all together. I mean, I've been a member of this church for 37 years. I must have sat through 20,000 sermons. I've got it all together and the crunch comes

and we find ourselves crying out Lord don't you care and his answer comes back don't you have faith

I'll take care of it one way or another it may not be the way that you expected it may not be the way that you thought you needed but I care more than you ever dared to dream

and I'll take care of it We find Jesus saying this sort of thing over and over. Just a couple pages later, we find the incident of Peter walking on the water. And then seeing the wave come rolling in and he panics and he sinks. Thou art Peter and like a rock thou shalt sink.

And what's Jesus' question? O man of little faith, why did you doubt?

To the woman with the hemorrhage, he says, daughter, your faith has made you well.

The healing of Jairus' daughter. Do not fear, only believe.

It goes back to his own hometown and we read this devastating comment that he could do no mighty work there because of their unbelief.

And it says he marveled at their unbelief.

See, the third part of the answer is that the problem may not be with God. The problem may be with you and me. If we had but a faith of a grain of mustard seed, we could lay hold of the power of God more dramatically than we ever dared to imagine. How come we don't?

If Jesus were to walk down the aisle of this church this morning, and were to look into your heart and mine,

would He marvel at our unbelief?

Suddenly He stills the storm. It says the disciples were filled with awe. And the second great question emerges from their lips. Who is this?

Who is this that even the wind and the waves obey him?

And that's when faith gets real. When you move from that surface level, that superficial, wistful, hope so kind of faith, in the midst of crisis you scream out, Lord, don't you care? And you find the answer coming back, I care more than you do. and you suddenly see the Lord Jesus filling the panorama of your vision.

His arm is not shortened. He's still mighty to save. And suddenly you realize you're not dealing just with a concept, just with a creed, just with an idea, but a living Lord who's able to intervene.

Who is this?

One more thing.

Did you notice at the beginning of the paragraph,

It said they took him with them in the boat just as he was.

We have a song. Just as I am, I come. So does he. Just as he is. That's how he comes. He comes as himself.

Sometimes you don't know who it is you've invited into your boat.

He comes as himself.

And he's simply looking for an opportunity to demonstrate to those who would dare to believe him who he is.

Somebody raised the question, where is the God of Elijah? That God that we read about. Who calls down fire from heaven. Who opens the pathway in the midst of the sea. Where is the God of Elijah? And the answer came back. He's waiting for an Elijah to call upon him.

Let's bow together.

Lord, enlarge our vision.

we dare to ask you to take us even through the midst of storm

if in the midst of it

we can begin to discover more deeply who you are

the extent of your provision the wonder of your love