Now What?

Little Faith

I really don’t like camping.  I’m more of a soft bed kind of girl.  I don’t like bugs, heat, or spiders in the community shower.  For years, my husband has taken the kids camping.  They love it – burping, farting and not saying excuse me!  I love the quiet when they’re gone.  At first I couldn’t go, because I had a baby or someone under five years old.  My husband’s hard fast rule was: Five and up go camping, anyone else stays home with mom.  I was totally fine with this arrangement.  They could do all the testosterone induced reveling they liked, and I didn’t have to be a witness. 

When I was a young kid, the neighbors took me camping.  A tornado blew through the area, and we had to flee in the night.  I awoke the next morning with a tick attached to my chest.  I remember screaming at the mirror.  My only camping experience as a child was rather dramatic.  When my last child turned five, my husband decided I simply must go along.  It was my birthday.  It rained the whole time; streams of living water flowed through our tent.  I thought seriously about having more children, so I wouldn’t have to do that again.

The next trip was a group event with friends.  The second day it rained heavily and those streams flowed again.  I spent part of the night in the van with the mosquitoes.  I believe this rain thing when camping is a sign that I should stay home in peace where it’s dry.  My husband has taken the kids on numerous camp trips where the weather was great and no one got wet.  I go – there’s a monsoon.  Any rational person would take the hint and stay home, right?

We recently came home from a pleasant camp trip with friends.  The forecast called for nice weather.  It was cold, windy, and…yep, it drizzled.  No monsoon or flood, but grey clouds and drippy threats.  Now my husband is prepared.  He bought a roofer’s tarp and has created a biodome over our tent.  Should the elements display their vengeance, we can remain dry.  Now he wouldn’t have gone to such extremes if he had never experienced the wife factor.  His diligence only confirms my faith that me camping is dangerous to those involved.

Faith is a funny thing.  Webster says faith is a strong belief in someone or something, something that is believed, especially with strong conviction.  Somehow it is easy for me to have faith in the negative state of the weather should I venture to sleep in a tent.  It’s faith that God is going to meet my need, change a loved one’s heart, or heal that wound that causes me to struggle.

I keep good company.

When He got into the boat, His disciples followed Him.  And behold, there arose a great storm on the sea, so that the boat was being covered with the waves; but Jesus Himself was asleep.  And they came to Him and woke Him, saying, “Save us, Lord; we are perishing!”  He said to them, “Why are you afraid, you men of little faith?”  Then He got up and rebuked the winds and the sea, and it became perfectly calm.  The men were amazed, and said, “What kind of a man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey Him?”

Matthew 8:23-27

I don’t blame the disciples for freaking out while on a boat in the middle of a storm.  They weren’t wimps – half of them were fisherman.  It’s not like they’d never been in rough water before.  This must have been quite a storm for seasoned fishermen to think they were going to sink and drown.  However, these are also Jesus’s handpicked disciples and friends.  They’ve seen miracle after miracle and gotten personal expository teaching.  Jesus asks them why they are afraid and calls them ‘men of little faith’.  It doesn’t seem very compassionate – they seemed justified in their fear, right?  He was taking a nap, right?  After Jesus calms the storm, the men are amazed and wonder what kind of man Jesus could be.  They know Jesus, don’t they? 

Earlier in chapter eight, Jesus tells someone else they have great faith.

And when Jesus entered Capernaum, a centurion came to Him, imploring Him, and saying, “Lord, my servant is lying paralyzed at home, fearfully tormented.”  Jesus said to him, “I will come and heal him.”

But the centurion said, “Lord, I am not worthy for You to come under my roof, but just say the word, and my servant will be healed.  For I also am a man under authority, with soldiers under me; and I say to this one, ‘Go!’ and he goes, and to another ‘Come!’ and he comes, and to my slave, ‘Do this!’ and he does it.

Now when Jesus heard this, He marveled and said to those who were following, “Truly I say to you, I have not found such great faith with anyone in Israel.”

Matthew 8:5-10

            Why does Jesus say this centurion has great faith, but later the disciples are told they have little faith?  What is it about this commander of a hundred men, well-off enough to have servants, that gets him the moniker ‘great faith.’  He’s not a Jew; he’s not a disciple, but he knows himself.  He knows he is not worthy for the Lord Jesus to come to his house.  He knows what authority is, because he is a man under and with authority.  He has eyes – all those radical miracles Jesus has been performing, that the disciples have been witnessing, couldn’t be done by just anyone.  Only one under and with authority could make the blind to see, the lame walk, the leper clean, the sick well, and the demons flee.  This military man understands true power when he sees it.  This soldier, this gentile, this pagan knows God when he sees Him.  He knows who he is and he knows who Jesus is.  He knows Jesus only has to speak the word for his servant to be made well.  He knows Jesus is merciful and powerful.  And Jesus marvels at his faith.

            I think sometimes we get too comfortable being Christian.  Some of us have heard those Bible stories a thousand times.  It becomes cliché to be saved, boring to have access to the God of the universe, the Savior of the world.  We become blasé about being welcome in the throne room.  We don’t read our Bibles. We forget the promises.  We get so caught up and distracted with this life, so busy doing things.  When the storms come, we forget Who is with us in the boat.  We don’t know who we are, nor who Jesus is.  We freak out when things don’t go our way, get hard, or get scary.  We don’t like our lack of control.  We wonder if God’s asleep, and why He would let things get so bad.

            Life can be hard, scary, and out-of-control.  We can’t afford to forget who we are.  We can’t forget who Jesus is.  He speaks life – are we listening?

Paul Baloche – Just Say Lyrics

I will lay me down

Here at your feet

Save me from myself

Calm the raging seas

You will be my ark

That floats me up above the storm

Just say

Just say the word

Just say the word

I'll be made whole

Hear my humble prayer

Help my unbelief

Speak to me your hope

Jesus, carry me

You will be my ark

That floats me up above the storm

Just say

Just say the word

Just say the word

I'll be made whole

Your goodness, your mercy will rescue me

Let your power, your blood wash over me

Just say

Just say the word

Just say the word

I'll be made whole