Sunday, January 18, 2026

“With Jesus in the Storm” (Mark 4:35-41)

 


Shelter in Storms
D. L. Moody is known as a man with a consuming passion for the salvation of the lost. After he was saved, he made a resolution that he would never let 24 hours pass without speaking to at least one person about his or her soul. One day Mr. Moody arrived home and went to bed. Then he suddenly realized that he had not spoken to anyone about Christ that day. So he got up, got dressed, and went to the front door. It was pouring rain. He said to himself, “Oh, there will be no one out in this pouring rain.” Just then, he heard someone passing by, holding an umbrella over his head. Mr. Moody rushed up to the man and said, “May I share the shelter of your umbrella?” “Certainly,” the man replied. Then, Mr. Moody asked, “Have you had shelter in the time of storm?” He shared the good news of Jesus and led him to Christ.[1]

The Gospel of Mark
Today’s passage tells the story of Jesus calming a storm. Last week, we explored the Gospel of Matthew. Matthew’s main audience was Jewish. That is why his Gospel begins with a genealogy of Jesus and includes many quotations from the Old Testament to show that Jesus is the promised Messiah. Unlike Matthew, the Gospel of Mark was written for Gentiles, especially Romans. Mark is fast-paced, using words like “immediately” or “at once” more than 40 times. It focuses on what Jesus did. This fits a Roman mindset, practical and action-oriented. Through Jesus’ actions, Mark shows us who Jesus is.

The Storm Story
Today’s passage is one of those action-filled stories – the storm story. One day Jesus and his disciples set out in a boat to cross the other side of the lake. But soon a huge storm came up. Waves poured into the boat, and it began to fill with water. And Jesus was sleeping, his head resting on a pillow. The disciples panicked and woke him up, saying, “Teacher, don’t you care that we’re going to drown?”

Have you been there? Have you felt desperate and panicked, not knowing what to do in the storms of life? Have you ever felt that God seemed absent or asleep during your struggles? In Rembrandt’s Christ in the Storm on the Sea of Galilee[2], every disciple is in a different place in the boat. Near the mast, several struggle to repair the torn sail, trying to fix the problem without success. One clings to a rope, barely hanging on. Another crouches in fear, staring at the wave. One is sick and overwhelmed, leaning over the side of the boat. Two are angry, shaking Jesus awake. One sits quietly, lost and withdrawn from the chaos. At the stern, a leader grips the tiller, trying to keep the boat on course and to control the situation. Only one kneels at Jesus’ feet in trust.

And then there is one more person, Rembrandt himself. He paints his own face among the disciples, wearing a blue cap, gripping a rope and looking straight at us. By doing this, Rembrandt invites us into the boat. This is not just their storm; it is ours. Mark’s Gospel asks the same question the painting asks: “Where are you in the boat today?” – Are you afraid? Are you lost? Are you just hanging in there? Are you angry at God? Are you trying to control or fix the problem? Here is the good news: wherever we are, Jesus is in the boat with us. And the storm becomes an invitation and opportunity to know him and experience him personally.

Who Is This Man?
When Jesus woke up, he rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” Immediately, the wind stopped, and there was a great calm. Then he said to the disciples, “Why are you afraid? Do you still have no faith?” They were filled with awe and said to each other, “Who is this man? Even the wind and the waves obey him!”

“Who is this man?” “Who is Jesus?” This is the most important question we can answer. By recording Jesus’ actions, Mark shows us that Jesus is the Son of God. He rules over nature, calming the storm. He forgives sins. He commands demons, and they obey him. He heals the sick with a word or a touch. All his actions point to one truth: Jesus has divine authority. So who is this man? Mark invites us to answer: This is the one we trust, follow, and worship.

My Peace
Storms are inevitable in life. Right before entering the fiercest storm, on the very night the disciples would desert him, Jesus said to them, “Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” (John 14:27) He continued, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have conquered the world!” (16:33)

In today’s passage, Jesus truly shows the disciples what his peace looks like. In the middle of a great storm, he is sleeping in peace. And he wants to give them (and us!) the same peace – the peace that surpasses all understanding. How can we have that peace? Rembrandt gives us a hint in this painting. The towering mast at the center of the boat resembles the cross.

Jesus loses peace so we can receive his peace. In Gethsemane, Jesus is overwhelmed. He is troubled and distressed (14:33). He says, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.” The storm is no longer on the sea, but it is in his soul. The disciples sleep, but Jesus has no rest. On the cross, Jesus experiences the ultimate loss of peace. He cries out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (15:34). He enters abandonment so we can be accepted. Jesus gives up his own peace in the garden and on the cross so that we can have peace with God. Through the cross Jesus conquered the world, and his surpassing peace is available to everyone who trusts him.

He Is Able
Dr. King shared his personal experience in his sermon Our God Is Able. Soon after he became the leader of the Montgomery bus boycott, he began to receive threatening phone calls and letters. At first, they were occasional, but soon they increased day after day. One particular night, after a long hard day, as he was about to go to bed, he received another threatening call. After this, he could not sleep. All of his fears came down on him, and it felt like he had reached the saturation point. So he went to the kitchen, bowed over the table and prayed aloud: “O Lord, help me! I am at the end of my strength. I have nothing left. I cannot face this alone.” At that moment, he heard an inner voice, saying, “Stand up for righteousness, stand up for the truth. God will be at your side forever.” Almost at once, all his fear left him. His uncertainty disappeared. He was ready to face anything. The external situation remained the same, but God gave him inner calm. Three days later, his home was bombed. Strangely enough, he remained calm. He knew now God was able to give him the inner strength to face the storms of life.[3]

Is someone here afraid because of the uncertainty of the future? Jesus is with us in the storm. Is someone in despair because of the loss of a loved one or broken relationships? Jesus is with us in the storm. Is someone anxious because of health concerns? Jesus is with us in the storm.

In Rembrandt’s painting, we see light in two places. One shines from heaven upon the mast, the symbol of the cross. The other glows from Jesus himself. He is the Light of the World. He is the Prince of Peace. He is the Messiah and the Son of God. And he is able to give us inner strength and peace to stand firm in the storms of life as we come to the cross.

At the cross, at the cross
Where I first saw the light,
And the burden of my heart rolled away,
It was there by faith I received my sight,
And now I am happy all the day!

So we return to D. L. Moody’s question: “Have you had shelter in the time of storm?” There is a great power that even the wind and the sea obey. His name is Jesus. He is with us in the storm, and he will be with us to the end. Not control, but trust. Trust. Trust Jesus.



[1] R. A. Torrey, Why God Used D. L. Moody (Moody Press, 1973), 39-40.

[2] Juliet Benner, “A Meditation on Rembrandt’s Christ in the Storm on the Lake of Galilee.” https://conversatio.org/o-taste-and-see-4/, and Bill Gaultiere, “With Jesus in the Storm: Rembrandt’s Meditation,” https://www.soulshepherding.org/with-jesus-in-the-storm-on-the-sea-of-galilee-a-meditation-on-rembrandts-painting/

[3] Martin Luther King Jr., Strength to Love (Fortress Press, Cleveland, Ohio, 2010),116-117.

Sunday, January 11, 2026

“Surprised by Grace” (Matthew 9:9-13)

 

*The Calling of Saint Matthew (1600) by Caravaggio


The Gospel According to Matthew
This year 2026, in the first half of the year, our Bible Study groups are walking through the entire New Testament together. Each week, our sermon will walk alongside that journey. This week, we begin with the Gospel of Matthew. Matthew’s main theme is loud and clear: “The kingdom of God.” “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near!” (Matthew 4:17) That was the very first message Jesus preached. Matthew often uses the phrase “kingdom of heaven” instead of “kingdom of God,” because of Jewish reverence for God’s name. He means the same thing: God’s reign, God’s rule, God’s way of life. So today, we ask Matthew’s questions:

· What is the kingdom of Heaven?
· How does Jesus bring the kingdom to us?
· How do we enter it? How do we live in it?

What the Kingdom of God Is Not
Let us begin with what the kingdom of God is not. First, God’s kingdom is not a visible political kingdom. In Jesus’ time, many people expected a visible, powerful kingdom. They hoped God would overthrow the Roman Empire, restore Israel, and bring freedom through force. They expected a strong savior and an even stronger kingdom. But Jesus says something very different: “The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed… nor will they say, ‘Look, here it is!’ or ‘There it is!’” (Luke 17:20-21) The kingdom does not come here or there. It doesn’t come with armies or borders. This is why many were disappointed in Jesus. He did not meet their expectations.

On a more personal level, the kingdom of God is not an add-on to our existing life. Matthew is very honest. It is not something we can possess alongside everything else. Jesus clearly says, “You cannot serve both God and wealth.” (6:24) We cannot seek power and control and still live under God’s reign. We cannot hold tightly to our own kingdom and inherit God’s kingdom. Matthew shows us again and again. We cannot have both. We must get out of our own way. This is hard, even painful. God’s kingdom is found only on the narrow path. It was not what people expected then, and it is not what we often want now. So what is it?

What the Kingdom of God Is
Matthew shows us what the kingdom of God looks like. He tells us that when Jesus came, “the people living in darkness saw a great light.” (4:16) The kingdom comes like light breaking into darkness. Quietly. Powerfully. It is the fulfillment of God’s long promise through the prophets. What Isaiah spoke of long ago now takes flesh in Jesus. “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me.” Good news is preached to the poor. Captives are set free. The broken are healed. New life and joy begin to grow where despair once lived. (cf. Isaiah 61:1-3)

In Matthew, God’s kingdom is not an idea or a place. It is made visible through Jesus. Wherever Jesus goes, the kingdom shows up. When he teaches, truth takes root. When he touches, bodies and souls are healed. When he forgives, lives are restored. Where Jesus is, there is healing, freedom, joy, peace, and new life! The kingdom of God looks like Jesus himself.

By the Way of the Cross
Then, we ask: How does Jesus bring God’s kingdom to us? How does he make it available to everyone?” Jesus openly teaches that the kingdom comes through suffering. Three times, Jesus tells his disciples that he must suffer many things, be killed, and on the third day be raised to life.” (Matthew 16:21, 17:22-23, 20:18-19)

Matthew presents Jesus as King, yet a very different kind of king – A suffering King, a suffering Servant King. “The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (20:28) His death is not an accident, but it is the way by which the kingdom comes – the way of the cross. And this fulfills God’s promise through Isaiah:

He was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed. We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all. (Isaiah 53:5-6, NIV)

Jesus brings God’s kingdom – not by force but by his suffering, not by power but by giving his life. So, how do we receive God’s kingdom? How can we enter it and live in it?

Through the Knees
We enter the kingdom on our knees – through humility and repentance. Matthew does not only record the gospel message, but also he included his own story. He shows us how the kingdom changed him.

Matthew was a tax collector. He was wealthy and secure, but comprised, sitting on the fence. Something was missing. He longed for new life. Matthew tells his story briefly, but we can imagine it this way: One day, Matthew hears Jesus teaching nearby. Jesus tells a parable: Two people went up to the temple to pray. One is a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee says, “God, I thank you that I’m not like this tax collector. I fast twice a week, I tithe.” But the tax collector stands at a distance, beating his chest, praying, “God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” Jesus says, “This man went home justified rather than the Pharisee.” After hearing this, Matthew cannot focus on his work. Then suddenly, Jesus appears at his tax booth and says two simple words, “Follow me.” And Matthew gets up, leaves everything, and follows him.

Caravaggio captures this moment beautifully in his painting The Call of St. Matthew. Matthew and his companions sit in a dim room, dressed in fine Roman clothes. Jesus enters quietly, pointing. Only Matthew notices. He points to himself as if to ask, “Who, me?”[1] Matthew ends this story with Jesus’ words: “I didn’t come to call righteous people, but sinners.” (9:13)

Caravaggio himself lived a troubled life. He was a talented painter, but also violent, restless. He fought, was imprisoned, even killed a man. He lived much of his life on the run. Yet God met him there. Caravaggio saw himself in Matthew – a tax collector, a sinner, a traitor. Caravaggio knew what it meant to be broken. He knew guilt, shame, and darkness. When he painted Matthew, he was not painting a perfect saint. He painted an ordinary, sinful man, surprised by grace. Many believe Caravaggio painted himself into Matthew’s face. It is as if he was asking, “Could Jesus call someone like me?” In the painting, light cuts through darkness. It changes everything.

The Gospel of Matthew for Everyone
Matthew’s gospel is about the God’s kingdom coming to sinners. Jesus eats with tax collectors. He does not choose the clean first. He simply invites and calls, “Follow me.” Like Matthew, like Caravaggio, we are surprised by grace.

Jesus says, “The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it” (Matt. 13:44–46, NIV).

We could paraphrase the parable this way: Imagine a man walking downtown. He spots the most beautiful pearl he has ever seen in a shop window. He knows he must have it. He rushes inside and asks the clerk, “How much is that pearl?” The clerk replies, “How much do you have?” The man says, “I have $100 in my pocket.” “Good, I’ll take that. What else do you have?” “Well... I have a car parked outside.” “I’ll take that too. What else?” “I have some savings—maybe $10,000.” “Good. I’ll take that as well. What else?” This goes on until the man gives up his house, his family, everything. Finally, the clerk says, “All right. The pearl is yours.” The man is overjoyed. He turns to leave, but the clerk stops him and says, “Wait. One more thing. Your family? I don’t need them—I’m giving them back to you. But they’re mine now. Take good care of them for me. Your house? You can live in it. But remember, it’s mine. Same with your car, your savings, even the $100. It’s all mine now. Use them well for me.”

So this morning Matthew leaves us with one quiet but profound question: What am I still holding onto? The kingdom of heaven is near. The pearl is before us. Jesus still says: “Follow me.” May we, like Matthew, say yes – all in. I have decided to follow Jesus, my pearl, my all in all. No turning back.



[1] Heidi J. Hornik, The Art of Christian Reflection (Baylor University Press, Waco, Texas, 2018), 13-15.

Sunday, January 4, 2026

“Why I Run” (1 Corinthians 9:24-27)


Running Story
There’s an article written by Nicholas Thompson that deeply inspired me to start running every day. It tells the story of his father and of himself. HIs father was brilliant and successful early in life. He won a scholarship to Phillips Academy Andover, Stanford, and Oxford. When he met John F. Kennedy in 1960, Kennedy joked that Thompson’s father might make it to the White House before he did. But beneath the success, something was wrong. He was drinking too much, smoking too much, worrying too much. So he started to run. He ran every morning. He ran marathons. Running helped him hold his life together until middle age. Then, he stopped. In his 40s, his life entered a downward spiral from which he never recovered. His life fell apart, and it ended sadly.

Nicholas took up running to be like his father. He also kept running because his father stopped. He shares why he runs this way:
“But really I run because of my father. Running connects me to my father, reminds me of my father, and gives me a way to avoid becoming my father. My father led a deeply complicated and broken life. But he gave me many things, including the gift of running – a gift that opens the world to anyone who accepts it.”[1]
Spiritual Journey as a Long Race
In today’s scripture, the apostle Paul compares our spiritual journey to a long-distance race. And he does not say, “Just finish.” He says, “Run to win.” (v. 24) As we know, no one wakes up one morning and runs a marathon. It takes training. It takes discipline, especially if you want to finish well. In his article, Nicholas Thompson says this about getting faster: “You can’t get faster by magic, and you do get faster with effort… you have to go out every day and run – even when you’re sore, tired, cold, grumpy, busy, or all of the above.”[2]

The same is true of our spiritual race. We do not grow spiritually by accident. We grow through daily spiritual discipline – day after day after day – no matter what. (v. 25). Many of us remember John Wesley’s defining spiritual moment. It came at the lowest point of his life – after he failed mission to the American colonies. He wrote in his journal, “I went to America to convert the Indians, but who shall convert me?” And yet, Wesley did not quit. He kept searching. He kept reading Scripture. He kept attending worship. One evening, he wrote, “In the evening I went very unwillingly to a society in Aldersgate Street.” That was the night his heart was strangely warmed. Think also of Mother Teressa, who lived through deep spiritual darkness for much of her life. Still, she kept going. Her well-known words say it all: “People are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centered; Forgive them anyway… The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow; Do good anyway.”

Run with Purpose
Running a marathon is hard. Many runners quit, not because they are weak, but because they forget why they are running. Around mile 20, runners call it “hitting the wall.” The legs feel heavy. The cheering crowd thins out. The finish line is nowhere in sight. The mind says, “Stop. This hurts. Why am I doing this?” This is where many runners slow down or quit. Another wall comes in the last three miles. The finish line is close, but the body is empty. At that point, it is no longer strength that carries runners home. It is purpose. For Nicholas Tompson, running was about becoming like his father – but not repeating his father’s ending. Many runners develop mantras to help them keep going.

In the same way, we, spiritual marathoners, need a crystal-clear reason why we run. Paul gives us that reason: “Everyone who competes practices self-discipline in everything. The runners do this to get a crown of leaves that shrivel up and die, but we do it to receive a crown that never dies.” (v. 25, CEB) The imperishable crown is our reason to run. Then what is that crown?

Full Salvation
There are two faithful ways to understand it. First, the imperishable crown is full salvation. Not only forgiveness of sins, but being shaped day by day into the likeness of Christ – until we are fully transformed by grace.

Samuel Logan Brengle, a leader in the Salvation Army, describes his life-changing experience of God’s love on Boston Common. He wrote:
“I walked out over Boston Common before breakfast, weeping for joy and praising God. Oh, how I loved! In that hour I knew Jesus, and I loved Him till it seemed my heart would break with love. I was filled with love for all His creatures. I heard the little sparrows chattering; I loved them. I saw a little worm wriggling across my path; I stepped over it; I didn’t want to hurt any living thing. I loved the dogs, I loved the horses, I loved the little urchins on the street, I loved the strangers who hurried past me, I loved the heathen, I loved the whole world.”
This is why we read Scripture every day. This is why we pray every day. This is why we come to this place and worship again and again. Not to earn salvation, but to make room for the Holy Spirit to transform us from one degree to another. The imperishable crown is the fruit of the Holy Spirit formed in us.

People
Second, the imperishable crown is the fruit of faithful gospel labor. Paul says, in Philippians 4:1, “My bothers and sisters, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown.” And again, in 1 Thessalonians 2:19-20, he says, “For what is our hope, our joy, or the crown in which we will glory in the presence of our Lord when he comes? Is it not you? Indeed, you are our glory and joy.” Again and again, Paul calls people his crown. The lasting reward of the Christian race is not applause, not success, but lives transformed by Christ – through our persistent daily intercessory prayer, and through our faithful labor of love, sacrifice, and forgiveness.

Our perfect example is Jesus Christ our Lord. Hebrews 12:2 says, “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” What was the joy set before Jesus? It was not comfort. It was the fruit of the cross. When Jesus carried the cross, he did not see only wood and nails. He saw faces. He saw names. He saw us. Jesus ran the race first. Jesus endured pain without quitting. Jesus finished strong. Why? For the imperishable crown. For the joy of redeemed people. For you and me.

Why I Run
I think many of us have seen the film Schindler’s List. German businessman Oskar Schindler used his wealth to buy Jewish lives from the Nazis. At the end of the film, he breaks down. He looks at his car. He looks at his gold pin. And he says, “I could have saved more.” He longed for one more chance – to give more, to save more lives.

But the film does not end with despair. In the very final scene, the real survivors – the people Schindler saved, and their descendants – walk together to Schindler’s tomb in Jerusalem. One by one, they place small stones on his grave as a sign of remembrance and honor. These people are Schindler’s crown.

Paul ran the race with purpose in every step because he knew what lasts forever – people transformed by God’s grace. Schindler disciplined his life to save lives. Paul disciplined his life to save souls. Both understood why they ran.

Daniel says those who lead many to righteousness will shine like stars forever. (12:3) This is the imperishable crown. Not gold. Not glory. But lives touched, saved, and led to Christ. While we still have our three T’s – time, treasure, and talents, how will we run?

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[1] Nicholas Thompson, “Why I Run,” The Atlantic (December 2025), 66-73.
[2] Ibid., 73.