"Doesn't Jesus Care?"--November 19, 2019
“A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’” [Mark 4:37-38]
You only ask a question that begins, “Do you not care…?” when you expect the answer to be "Yes!"--in other words, when you expect that the person you are asking really does, in fact, care.
You don’t dare ask a question like that of a stranger—you know that the teenager bagging your groceries really doesn’t care about your emotional problems, and that the person behind you in line at Wal-Mart isn’t really interested in your hopes and dreams. You don’t ask “Don’t you care…?” of someone when you don’t have a reasonable expectation that they will answer, “Yes! Of course I care!” It hurts too badly to ask it and have your hopes disappointed. (I think this is why the “Don’t you care…?” questions are so telling when asked between spouses who are going through struggles in their relationship—you would expect the other person to say, “Of course, I care about…” and if they do not, things are very grave.)
“A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’” [Mark 4:37-38]
You only ask a question that begins, “Do you not care…?” when you expect the answer to be "Yes!"--in other words, when you expect that the person you are asking really does, in fact, care.
You don’t dare ask a question like that of a stranger—you know that the teenager bagging your groceries really doesn’t care about your emotional problems, and that the person behind you in line at Wal-Mart isn’t really interested in your hopes and dreams. You don’t ask “Don’t you care…?” of someone when you don’t have a reasonable expectation that they will answer, “Yes! Of course I care!” It hurts too badly to ask it and have your hopes disappointed. (I think this is why the “Don’t you care…?” questions are so telling when asked between spouses who are going through struggles in their relationship—you would expect the other person to say, “Of course, I care about…” and if they do not, things are very grave.)
You only ask “Don’t you care…?” when you at least hope that the other person does care. Otherwise, it is a question asked when, as the song puts it poignantly, “we’re only here to witness the remains of love exhumed.” It is not a question to ask lightly, because it is a gamble to ask it. What if—and you almost dread to even thinking about this possibility—the answer comes back, “No, I don’t care… not anymore…”? And yet, it is a question that deeply wants, maybe even longs, for there to be a “yes” in reply. And it is a question that expects and hopes for that yes to come.
In a way, the most faithful prayers of God’s people for millennia have begun with some version of, "Don't you care...?" “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” asks the psalmist, and he asks it because he has expected and trusted that God was there for him. Jesus, too, asked that question from the cross. Whatever suffering or fear he is going through, whatever storms the psalmist is facing, he had trusted that the living God would be there with him and would go through the danger alongside him. In a way, when we feel like God doesn’t care, and that feeling bothers us, it is a sign to us that we are still deeply trusting and expecting God to come through for us.
This is a big part of why it’s better to be honestly angry at God, or at least upset at God, when you find your life taking on water, than to pretend the troubles are not there, or to give up hope. As the saying goes, you can’t be mad at someone you don’t believe exists. At least being mad at God is a sign that deep down, you still believe not only that God is there but that God should care about your situation. Even our angriest prayers, uttered with clenched fists at the sky, are still signs we believe God is there and that God should be moved to respond to our hurts. And that’s exactly right—God is there, and God is moved, even aggrieved, over our hurts. The psalmist says that God collects our tears in a bottle, after all. The psalmist says, “Precious in the sight of God is the death of his saints.” We are taught by the writers of the Bible to count on God caring about our sorrows. So when we go through storms like the disciples did, it may be the most faithful question we can ask to call out, “Lord, don’t you care…?” Like I say, asking it is a sign that you really expect the answer to be “Yes!”
Lord Jesus, when it seems like you are asleep in the back of the boat, let us bring our questions to you, and let us see you answer them faithfully. Let us know your deep love and care for us always.
We have to hear the question of the disciples with that kind of intensity. “Teacher, don’t you care that we are perishing?” It is a question asked with hope and faith underneath it. The disciples have come to trust in this Jesus, and they have come to believe that he really is looking out for them. Asking Jesus “Don’t you care” carries the assumption with it that Jesus should care, and has cared in the past, and can be expected to care into the future. It seems like a question of doubt, but really it is a question of faith. To ask Jesus, “Do you not care…?” is a way of telling Jesus you have trusted him to care thus far—it is asking Jesus to be who Jesus has always been for you in the past. And it recognizes that Jesus is there in the boat with you now. You don't ask a question like, "Don't you care?" to someone who is never around or won't make time for you anymore--their absence already gives you the answer that they don't. But someone who shows up--who is present with you as you go through the storms and struggles--there is a person already showing you that they care.
That's why it's such a big deal that Jesus is already in the boat with the storm-tossed disciples. His presence in the boat is already a sign that indeed he does care. His willingness to bear their angry, hurt, and fearful question is evidence he cares even before he does a thing to still the storm.
In a way, the most faithful prayers of God’s people for millennia have begun with some version of, "Don't you care...?" “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” asks the psalmist, and he asks it because he has expected and trusted that God was there for him. Jesus, too, asked that question from the cross. Whatever suffering or fear he is going through, whatever storms the psalmist is facing, he had trusted that the living God would be there with him and would go through the danger alongside him. In a way, when we feel like God doesn’t care, and that feeling bothers us, it is a sign to us that we are still deeply trusting and expecting God to come through for us.
This is a big part of why it’s better to be honestly angry at God, or at least upset at God, when you find your life taking on water, than to pretend the troubles are not there, or to give up hope. As the saying goes, you can’t be mad at someone you don’t believe exists. At least being mad at God is a sign that deep down, you still believe not only that God is there but that God should care about your situation. Even our angriest prayers, uttered with clenched fists at the sky, are still signs we believe God is there and that God should be moved to respond to our hurts. And that’s exactly right—God is there, and God is moved, even aggrieved, over our hurts. The psalmist says that God collects our tears in a bottle, after all. The psalmist says, “Precious in the sight of God is the death of his saints.” We are taught by the writers of the Bible to count on God caring about our sorrows. So when we go through storms like the disciples did, it may be the most faithful question we can ask to call out, “Lord, don’t you care…?” Like I say, asking it is a sign that you really expect the answer to be “Yes!”
The difference between us asking that question of another human being in a strained relationship and us asking that question of God is that God really won’t let us down by saying, “No, I don’t care…” Others might well let us down. Others might not prove worthy of our trust. Others maybe should say, “I care…” but they fail us. Others may say, "Well, I used to care, but now I have new priorities in my life and I just can't make the time for you anymore." The living God does not. Jesus does not.
The disciples, of course, will see that as the story continues, but so often in our lives, we feel like we are paused right at this instant in the story, and that all we can see is Jesus sleeping in the boat. Sometimes we cannot see to the end of the story, when the storm is calmed and Jesus has been with us all along. And yet even in those moments while the boat is still taking on water, we trust that Jesus is here and should care… and indeed that he will answer us with the “Yes!” we have been longing for. So, if you or I are in one of those moments of doubt and anger, okay, fair enough. Let us at least trust Jesus enough to ask our question, and wait with open ears for his answer. It seems like quite a risk to speak the words, “Don’t you care, Lord?”
But wait for him to answer. Then we will see.
Lord Jesus, when it seems like you are asleep in the back of the boat, let us bring our questions to you, and let us see you answer them faithfully. Let us know your deep love and care for us always.
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