Sleeping Under the Threat of a Tornado

So Jesus, knowing that they were going to come and take Him by force to make Him king, withdrew again to the mountain by Himself alone. Now when evening came, His disciples went down to the sea, and after getting into a boat, they began to cross the sea to Capernaum. It had already become dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. And the sea was stirred up because a strong wind was blowing. Then, when they had rowed about twenty-five or thirty stadia, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and drawing near to the boat; and they were frightened. But He said to them, “It is I; do not be afraid.”  (John 6:15–20, LSB)

Last night, while half way across the country, I received weather alerts telling me that there was a growing threat that tornadoes were possible back home. I saw the weather map in the morning when I passed by the TV screen in the hotel lobby and the dark red spots over home made me a little concerned—but these things always seem to pass by, right?

Last night the text appeared on my phone: “We are going down [into the basement]. Please pray.” The accompanying photo of an emergency weather alert didn’t settle my heart: “National Weather Service: TORNADO WARNING in this area until 10:45 PM EDT. Take shelter now in a basement of an interior room on the lowest floor of a sturdy building…”

After feeding 5,000 men, not counting women and children, Jesus knew that the people wanted to make him their king. I wondered, what kind of king could they have wanted? Israel was under Roman occupation and a part of the Empire, though they wouldn’t have accepted that truth. Surely they didn’t think Jesus would become the new Emperor of Rome. The Herodian Dynasty was still active, and Herod was called a “king” even though he ruled locally at the pleasure of Rome. Would Jesus simply take Herod’s place as the “king of the Jews” in Palestine? The more I think about it, not only did Jesus refuse to allow them to make him their king because he needed to be crucified for the sins of men, but add to that the fact that the type of king the people wanted was far too small of an office for Jesus. He wasn’t satisfied to simply be a king, or the king of the Jews, or even the Emperor of Rome. No, Jesus is the King of kings and Lord of lords. The people weren’t thinking big enough.

That may have been why John shows his readers that Jesus crossed the sea in a storm by walking upon the water. Jesus was overqualified to be a simple client-king. He was too powerful to fit into the hierarchy of rulers and petty lords that dotted the earth in those days. The God-Man who can feed his people, had complete power over nature. He was not scared of the storm as the disciples in their little fishing boat were. Of course not. He made that body of water, and he commanded the wind and the waves. He wasn’t a victim of gravity and didn’t need to obey the laws of nature that say a man’s mass is heavier than water. Just like he was Lord of the Sabbath, Jesus is Lord over all, so that even the wind and the seas obey him.

After I prayed for my family—and pray I did!—I was able to rest. I didn’t have the best night of sleep, but I slept. Being half-way across the country reminds a person that they are helpless to do anything to help. But had I been huddled in the basement with my wife and daughters, what would I have done if a tornado had touched down in our neighborhood? I was powerless to help them—either away or at home.

But as I called out to the One who has all power, who is greater than any earthly king or president or prime minister, I was reminded of the final words of Jesus above as I prayed, “It is I; do not be afraid.”

Not All Glory is Gold

“I do not receive glory from men;…How can you believe, when you receive glory from one another and you do not seek the glory that is from the only God?” (John 5:41, 44 LSB)

The glory of men is intoxicating. I know a lot of Christians who won’t touch alcohol, but I see many who constantly sip at the bottle of glory. What’s that saying about pointing at others and there are three fingers pointing back at you? Yes, in many ways we struggle with receiving glory from men.

In a section of John 5, Jesus is instructing the Jews about His identity, and they are very clear on at least one thing, Jesus is “making Himself equal with God” (Jn 5:18). As Jesus teaches, He doesn’t try to diffuse the bomb he has handed to them, but rather adds more gunpowder to the already explosive conversation.

Christ speaks about being able to break the Sabbath, and how he keeps the Father’s will perfectly. This includes the power to judge and give life. Both of these references were not meant to simply refer to common everyday judgment and life-giving actions, but rather to the eternal prerogative of God, to cast into hell or raise into heaven, as well as to raise the dead in the resurrection.

These verses, and the self-reference to the title “Son of Man” (Jn 5:27) refer to Daniel’s vision of the Son of Man being given such powers from the Ancient of Days, the Father.

All of these are powerful references and images that pull back the mask of Jesus’ full identity, showing to his audience that He is more than the carpenter’s son from Nazareth.

In this mix of self-revelation, Jesus adds the truth about these self-righteous leaders. They loved to honor one another, give one another honorific titles, and pat each other on the back. We read about Jesus chastening them often over their self-congratulatory attitudes. And when I read about this, I often see a not too dim reflection of what I see in myself and in many of my fellow Christians at times.

Sometimes called a “humble brag” or couched in “praise reports” or displayed in our Instagram, X, or Facebook feeds, we see the boasting of those who acknowledge that pride is a sin. And when we see another fall, we hear the roar of prideful men speaking with what appears to get the back-slapping approval of their fellow Christians, I am reminded of how cancerous our pride can be.

I, for one, am not done with my personal fight with pride in my own heart. When I am walking in the Spirit, I don’t want to steal the glory from God, and I don’t want to garner the praises of men. So that means I need to watch carefully my life and doctrine, because pride is always there, lurking in the shadows not too far away.

Faith Makes Us Courageous

So he sent horses and chariots and a heavy military force there, and they came by night and surrounded the city. Then the attendant of the man of God arose early and went out, and behold, a military force with horses and chariots was all around the city. And his young man said to him, “Alas, my master! What shall we do?” So he said, “Do not fear, for those who are with us are more than those who are with them.”” (2 Kings 6:14–16, LSB)

Yesterday I wrote that “sin makes us stupid.” You can read that post here. But in the continuing saga of Elisha, we also see that faith makes us courageous.

The King of Aram was determined to get Elisha and silence him. He sent what is described in 2 Kings 6:14 as ancluded not only armed soldiers but also horses and chariots “heavy military force,” which i. Not that any of that scares God, or even Elisha. But it did scare Elisha’s servant.

Can you imagine that poor young man? He got up in the morning and probably went out to the well to make some of that good dark roast Damascus coffee for himself and his master, and what does he see? An enormous army at his front door! Maybe he backed up slowly. Maybe he screamed like a child. Who knows how he reacted initially, but what we read is that he reported to his master his dismay: “What shall we do?”

Elisha’s reaction is calm and cool. He doesn’t rush to look out the window. He doesn’t start pacing or figuring out how he can talk himself out of being killed or arrested. He doesn’t begin counting up all his valuables to see if he has enough to bribe the commander of this grand army. Nope. Elisha, in my imagination, takes a slow sip of his coffee and smiles as he tells the servant to calm down.

“Don’t be afraid,” he says to his attendant. Elisha seems to know something that this young man doesn’t. Don’t panic? Don’t be afraid? Clearly, Elisha didn’t have a full grasp of his faculties. How could they not panic? How could they not be afraid? Today they were most likely going to die. At best, they would be imprisoned and beaten! Don’t be afraid?

The servant saw a great army of the enemy of Israel, but Elisha knew that there is more out there than what our limited human eyes can see. We might be tempted to think that Elisha could see more, but the Bible doesn’t say he saw anything. I think he could only see what his young man could see—an overwhelming situation that would make all of us panic. So what gives? Why was Elisha so calm?

The prophet of God knew what all people of faith know—that this world is made up of material and immaterial realities. We cannot see all that is before us. But with the eyes of faith, we can entrust ourselves to the God who sees it all. Not only could God see the King of Aram, but He can also see our predicaments as well. Elisha knew this, and thus, he was cool and settled even if he didn’t see anything more than his servant.

Hebrews 11:1 says, “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (LSB). Elisha took the opportunity to show his young servant (as well as Israel, and us too), what only faith understands, that God is greater than any problem we face. He is a Warrior and King, and He is our Defender and Shield. God tells us that in His Word, so we need to believe Him for what He has said. But for our benefit, Elisha prayed that the curtain, just this once, would be pulled back so that our feeble, faithless eyes could see what is ordinarily invisible. And wow!

Elisha wasn’t afraid. Not because he could see the unseen. But because He believed God with the eyes of faith. And that faith makes men and women of God courageous in the face of troubling circumstances. However it might look, we need to remember that God is in control, and there is much more at play behind the scenes than we will ever know.

Sin Makes Us Stupid

“Then the heart of the king of Aram was enraged over this thing; and he called his servants and said to them, “Will you not tell me which of us is for the king of Israel?” And one of his servants said, “No, my lord, O king; but Elisha, the prophet who is in Israel, tells the king of Israel the words that you speak in your bedroom.” So he said, “Go and see where he is, that I may send and take him.” And it was told to him, saying, “Behold, he is in Dothan.”  (2 Kings 6:11–13, LSB)

Elisha was a prophet of God, and as far as prophets go, the Lord was very powerful through him. In 2 Kings 6, this is shown through several vignettes about how God did miracles through the hands of this man of God.

In the above account, Elisha spoils the plans of the Arameans by warning the King of Israel when an ambush was set for him and his army. Clearly God, who is all knowing and nothing is hidden from his sight, was sharing this military intelligence with his man Elisha so that he could warn the Israelite king.

Elisha’s field reports were so accurate that the King of Aram was certain that he had a spy in his midst. “…Which of us is for the king of Israel?” It was an obvious conclusion to come to under the circumstance. If the battle plans are made known to the enemy, clearly there is a leak. But there is a twist in the plot. No one among the Arameans is being unfaithful. There is no spy.

Somehow, the servants had found out that the source of the leak was not among them, but was the prophet Elisha. This man of God was so privy to the king’s secret plans that even if something was spoken of in the innermost chambers of the king’s bedroom, Elisha would know about it.

Okay, we understand that much. But what is dumbfounding to me is the way the Aramean king sought to fix this intelligence leak—by silencing Elisha. It shouldn’t be hard because his location wasn’t a secret. They knew exactly what town he was in, and where to find him.

So, the king who couldn’t keep a secret from God was now demanding that his soldier go and arrest this prophet…Do you see the hole in his logic? Would they sneak up on him? Perhaps wear camouflage? Ninja-style?

In the next section of the account, we find out that Elisha wasn’t surprised. Why not? Because God isn’t blind and he’s not deaf either. Of course, the Lord could have allowed Elisha to be completely ignorant of the plans. But he didn’t let that happen.

Back to the king. He knew God saw and heard everything. He knew God was telling Elisha his plans. And yet he thought he could somehow swoop in and surprise Elisha and arrest or maybe kill him?

The Bible is filled with examples of how sin makes us stupid. Life is filled with even more examples. I’ll probably prove this truth myself, today. I hope I don’t. But I am not sinless, and neither are you, dear reader. We will mess up, and we will need the blood of Jesus to forgive us again.

But that’s not the point of this little article. The point is that we can’t hide our sins from God. We might be able to hide them from others, maybe for a long time. But God knows and sees. All of it. Doing dumb stuff is a result of our fallen nature. But acting like God doesn’t see it all? That’s truly stupid.

Sometimes Faith Seems Too Simple

“And Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, “Go and wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh will be restored to you and you will be clean. But Naaman was furious and went away and said, “Behold, I said to myself, ‘He will surely come out to me and stand and call on the name of Yahweh his God, and wave his hand over the place and cure the leper. Are not Abanah and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them and be clean?” So he turned and went away in wrath. Then his servants approached and spoke to him and said, “My father, had the prophet spoken with you to do some great thing, would you not have done it? How much more then, when he says to you, ‘Wash, and be clean’?” So he went down and dipped himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; and his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy and he was clean.  (2 Kings 5:10–14, LSB)

O how we love our religious rituals. The more complex and complicated, the better.

The scene was simple. Naaman wanted to be healed of his leprosy and he had heard that there was a man of God in Israel who could do what no one else could do. So, piling up all the things you think you need, a letter of introduction, lavish gifts to help grease the wheels of the prophet and to motivate a positive response, and a long, arduous trek through arid lands to show that he was serious about being healed. When Namaan finally arrived, he must have been filled with expectation and hope.

But when the man of God didn’t even come out of his house, instead sending his servant with a message, the sick man was disappointed. Then there was the instructions—go and bathe in the Jordan river, washing seven times. In case you don’t know it, the Jordan is brown, not crystal clear. Now, Namaan grew angry. After all, he was an important man back home. Couldn’t the prophet at least come out and speak to him? And bathe in a dirty river? What about the rituals, the odd dances, potions, sparks, incantations, beads, smoke, chants…but nothing? Just take a bath in this muddy river?

Namaan almost left in disgust. We do love our rituals.

But rituals don’t heal. Neither do clear or muddy rivers. And for that matter, neither do prophets or servants of prophets. Only God has the power to heal. And God works on faith.

When his servants saw his anger and frustration, they knew they would soon be heading back home, and Namaan would still be leprous. So, they tried to reason with their master. “If the prophet had come out and made you swing a chicken over your head and then drink water upside down while you sang “Ave Maria,” would you have done it?” “Well, yes of course,” reasoned the soldier. Now that would be a proper ritual!

“Then, since we have come all this way, why wouldn’t you do the simple thing, trust the man of God, and simply wash as he asked in the Jordan river.”

You know, for some people, faith is too simple. Just trusting that Jesus died in your place for the forgiveness of sins is too easy. We need to do something. Self-flagellation or penance of some sort must be necessary. One hundred “Hail Mary’s” or skip chocolate for a month. I mean, I’ve been bad, but not as bad as that guy, we reason. But just believe? Just trust? It’s too easy! Just place my faith in the finished death, burial, resurrection and ascension of Jesus? There’s got to be more. After all, there’s no such thing as a free lunch!

It’s true. The forgiveness of all our sins, which is more complicated than cleansing from leprosy, did cost more. It cost the life of the Son of God, who willingly gave it because of love, by dying on the cross. There’s nothing more you can do other than receiving this free gift.

When Namaan went into the muddy waters of the Jordan, he came out with skin as soft as a baby’s bottom. And when we come to Christ by faith alone in what he has done, trusting in Him, not our own works, our heart will emerge white as snow. It’s that simple.