Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 1964
“And He said unto them, Why are you so fearful? How is it that you have no faith?” Mark 4:40.
LAST Lord’s-Day morning our music was pitched upon a high key. We sought after great faith in the Master’s name [Sermon #1963, Volume 33—The Search for Faith.] It struck me that I might, perhaps, have discouraged some of the feebler sort and that, therefore, it would be right, this morning, to follow up that sermon by endeavoring to encourage those of weak faith to exercise it until it becomes stronger—and also to invite those who, as yet have no faith, to venture in the direction of childlike trust.
With this brief introduction, let us come at once to our subject.
I should not wonder if the disciples considered that they had much faith in Jesus, their Master and Lord. They had been with Him all day, listening to His teaching, believing it even when they did not understand it. They had afterwards gathered about Him in private to listen to His fuller explanations and they were thankful to be favored with those expositions in which their Lord became their private Tutor. I do not question that they, each one of them, esteemed himself a firm believer in Jesus. How could he tolerate a doubt? But, my Brothers and Sisters, we have, none of us, any idea how scanty our faith really is. When trial comes, the heap from the threshing floor becomes very small beneath the influence of the winnowing fan. After a day of calm service with Jesus, a storm came on and that storm tested their faith and left so little of it that Jesus said to them, “Why are you so fearful? How is it that you have no faith?” Remember that we have no more faith at any time than we have in the hour of trial. All that which will not bear to be tested is mere carnal confidence. Fair-weather faith is no faith—the only real faith in Jesus Christ is that which can trust Him when it cannot trace Him—and believe Him when it cannot see Him.
This storm was a special trial to the disciples because it was so exceedingly severe. They had often been tossed upon that lake, but this time the elements were moved to an excessive tumult—the winds poured down in all their force and fury. The war of Nature raged around their devoted boat. When tribulation is heavier than usual, it is a serious test to faith. When we appear to be tried above the common measure of men, the weak ones are full of trembling and even the strong fall upon their knees and cry, “Lord, I believe! Help You my unbelief.”
The storm was the more trying because it came upon them when they were in the path of duty. Their Master had bid them cross the sea—they were not upon a holiday trip. They had not even followed the suggestion of a Brother who had said, “I go a-fishing,” but they were steering under their great Captain’s orders. They were doing right and suffering trouble in consequence. This has often perplexed good men. I have heard a Believer say, “I prospered more before I was a Christian than I have since. Things went smoothly with me before I knew the Lord. How can these things be? The very fact of my endeavoring to do what is right and laboring to maintain my integrity has become the cause of my severest trial.” This is no new thing upon the earth! The living child of God will have to swim against the stream. Not without fighting will he win his crown!
Moreover, it was an item which helped to try their faith, that the storm assailed them when Jesus was in the ship. Had the Lord been absent, they could have understood it—but He was in the vessel with them! How could the sea be so boisterous with Christ in the vessel? If I am out of communion with Christ, I can understand why I am chastened. But if I am walking in conscious nearness and fellowship with Him and I am even then tried and perplexed, how can I account for it? Herein is the test of faith! “Whom the Lord loves, He chastens, and scourges every son whom He receives.” This we forget and fancy that trials must mean anger, when, indeed, they may be tokens and tests of love!
It may have seemed to them, also, that the storm was very untimely since there were with Jesus many other little ships—and all those boats were caught in the same storm. We are always anxious for those who come to hear the Gospel, lest anything should prejudice them against it. The disciples may have feared that such ill weather would drive away from Christ those hearers who might otherwise have become converts. If they met with a storm so soon after rowing close to Jesus, they might judge Him to be another Jonah and resolve to give the Galilean Preacher a wide berth next time. I know how I like to see fine weather at an open-air service and a continuance of it till the country people can get home. And I suspect that the disciples felt much the same. They did not wish their Lord to be looked upon as a stormy sea bird, or a man of evil omen—and you know that superstition was strong in those days. Had you and I been there, we would have said, “Gracious Lord, let us have a calm, that those who have come to You in their boats may get home in comfort. Cause this wonderful service by the sea to end pleasantly, that the next time You come this way, the people may gather in still larger numbers to hear You.” Sometimes the strange occasion of the trial makes it harder to bear. Trial is never welcome and sometimes it is peculiarly disagreeable.