The Holy Work of Storms (Mark 4:35-41)

Discover how the storms in your life can become the resistance you need to grow your faith, just like the mighty albatross uses wind to soar. Join Pastor Jeff McLain as he explores Mark 4:35-41 on November 30th, 2025, revealing that every storm is a holy work designed to deepen your dependence on Jesus and reveal His complete authority.

In this sermon, "The Holy Work of Storms," Pastor Jeff McLain of River Corner Church offers a unique perspective on adversity, contrasting the disciples' fear during a squall on the Sea of Galilee with the albatross's inherent ability to soar through storms. Drawing on Mark 4:35-41, this message challenges the notion of seeking a storm-free life, arguing that moments of crisis—whether financial, health-related, or spiritual—are divine opportunities. The sermon explains that storms expose our self-reliance, compel us to turn to Jesus, and ultimately serve as the necessary resistance that launches us into deeper faith, reminding us that only Jesus can command, "Quiet! Be still!"

About River Corner Church

River Corner Church is a simple community of Jesus-followers located in East Petersburg, PA, committed to shared listening and participating in God's work together. As a hodge-podge community, we value slowing down our normal rhythms, particularly on Fifth Sundays, to make space for authentic connection and collective growth as we hear God's voice through Scripture, prayer, and one another. Our mission is to live out the way of Jesus by growing in faith, purpose, and belonging, and recognizing that following Him is a sacred journey, even when it leads us into uncomfortable or "stormy" seasons.

Transcript

Today is a Fifth Sunday. Fifth Sundays break our normal rhythm and give us space to slow down, listen, and be present with God and one another. We value learning to hear what God is saying—not only through Scripture and prayer, but also through each other. God speaks in community. Fifth Sundays make room for participation and for shared listening.

So today, be attentive to what God may be stirring in you as we read the passage and be willing to offer it, and just as willing to receive from others. This is how we grow as a simple community of Jesus-followers, learning to hear God together.

Let’s Pray

Storms

I’ve been in storms that shook me to the core. When I was traveling across the country in my younger years, I was camping in Illinois when a storm hit. Around four in the morning, my friends started yelling for everyone to wake up. I crawled out of my sleeping bag, wiping my eyes, and in the darkness I could see dome tents bouncing like basketballs across the field. People were screaming. I had just started coming back to my faith, and as I clung to the ground and crawled toward the embers of our fire, I found myself praying with others while a tornado spun above us. We had nowhere else to turn.

Conversation Question: What’s the worst storm you’ve ever been in, and how did you react?

We all face storms that make us question God’s presence and our ability to keep going—sometimes the storms are weather, and sometimes they’re health-related, financial, or something else entirely. When I lived in California the first time, we had an unusual spell of thunder and rain, and people were scared of the lightning. I remember driving around while others were shaken because they rarely experienced storms like that. Someone even said they were surprised at how comfortable I was in it. I grew up around storms—they didn’t.

But the truth is, and this is honest, I don’t know how to thrive in the storms that shake my health, my finances, or my stability. I believe we’re meant to thrive in storms, even though I often don’t. Before we look at a story where Jesus meets his followers in one of those moments, I want to start with a surprising creature that actually thrives in storms.

Storms don't just threaten us; they reveal who we believe Jesus is and how dependent we are on our own power.

The albatross is one of the most majestic seabirds on earth, with a wingspan stretching up to nearly twelve feet. There are 22 species of albatross, and some have been tracked flying thousands of miles in a single journey.

Many people note that albatross takeoffs and landings can be awkward. Because of their size, they need intense bursts of wind to get going. When there’s no wind, the bird has to run and flap for a while—much like an airplane gaining speed—to become airborne. This sometimes leads to clumsy or even crash landings, with the occasional somersault. Others report that when they return to nest, they come in like clumsy sailors—tumbling, skidding, even crashing. They weren’t built for wind and not for smooth landings.

The bird order they belong to in Latin means "a violent wind" or "a storm." These are birds that were meant to ride storms.

In the wind, they are unmatched. Albatrosses are made for storms. Their enormous wings only work because they rely on powerful winds and turbulent air. In calm weather, they can barely take off. Without resistance, without strong winds, an albatross simply cannot soar the way they are created to. Albatrosses, as their bird family name implies, use winds and storms to their advantage.

Storms come for us, too. Most of the time, we hide instead of soar. We hunker down instead of using the storm to our advantage. We see the storms of life as resistance against us, not as something that could launch us into a new season.

This morning, we’re looking at a story where a storm serves a purpose. It reveals who Jesus is and the deep dependence the disciples need to have on him. But instead of trust, they respond with fear. In their fear, they assume Jesus doesn’t have their best interests in mind. And if we’re honest, we often do the same. In storms, we fear that God doesn’t have our best interests in mind.

But what if the storms in our lives are actually what catapult us into a new season? What if they are the very resistance that reveals who Jesus is and how much we need him?

The albatross depends on the wind—and even its resistance—to soar. Maybe this story invites us to see the storms in our lives as a positive resistance.

Albatrosses need the winds and storms, and so do we, even though we hate them.

Albatrosses need wind to soar; disciples need storms to grow.

Read the Passage

If you have your Bible with you, or you want to follow along on your phone, I’ll be reading from the New International Translation of Mark 4:35–41. As I read Mark 4:35-41, pay attention to what words, phrases, images, or ideas stand out to you. I will give you a chance to share after we read it.

Read Mark 4:35-41

That day when evening came, he said to his disciples, “Let us go over to the other side.” Leaving the crowd behind, they took him along, just as he was, in the boat. There were also other boats with him. A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped. Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke him and said to him, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?” He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm. He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?” They were terrified and asked each other, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!”

Processing Mark 4:35-41

Let’s talk through a few movements in this story together.

What words, phrases, images, or ideas stood out to you as we read?

Where might Jesus be leading you “across the lake”—away from comfort and toward a place in life that feels unfamiliar or unsafe?

Where are you feeling lonely right now, even though there are people around you—like the other boats in the story?

Where do you feel like the water is getting into the cracks of your life, and it seems like God doesn’t have your best interests in mind?

Where are you trying to control the storm on your own, forgetting that only Jesus can speak to the wind and waves in your life?

Where might God be inviting you to be still, say no, or quiet the noise in your life—or showing you that some of the storm is coming from your own words, choices, or patterns?

And finally, in this season, how big is your view of Jesus? Who is Jesus to you in the storm you’re facing?

Slide

Take a moment, notice which one stirs something in you, and if you’re comfortable, share from that question.

The story ends with a question: “Who is this? Even the wind and waves obey him!” Mark wants his readers—and us—to sit with the same question.

How big is your view of Jesus in the season you’re in right now?

With these thoughts in mind, I want to leave you with some brief ideas to guide us as we close.

The story begins at a high moment. Jesus is preaching, and thousands have gathered. Their mission suddenly feels successful. In Mark 4, Jesus begins teaching again—this time on the side of a mountain, a well-known natural amphitheater still recognized today. The crowd becomes so large that Jesus has to push out onto the lake and use a boat like a stage to speak to everyone.

Jesus begins teaching in parables. While parables were everyday for rabbis, the people had never heard anything like this. One of the most famous parables Jesus shares is the Parable of the Sower. In it, Jesus describes different kinds of hearts—some that hear God’s words but lose them, some that get excited but fall away, and some that let the storms of life choke out what little faith they have. That matters because, in the story we read, a storm will reveal what kind of followers the disciples truly are.

They had stood on the hillside hearing Jesus with the crowds. Scripture felt alive. Their mission was gaining momentum; their following went from twelve to thousands. People of every background were drawn in. God felt close. They were finding purpose, belonging, and a sense of calling. 

Then the same Jesus who had brought crowds invited them to step away from the crowd and rest. Following Jesus into that quiet space was an adventure they were not expecting. It must have felt amazing to have that Jesus in your boat.

But having Jesus with them did not mean life would be easy. The early part of discipleship is often full of wonder—learning God’s voice, feeling God’s presence, finding purpose. But storms often mark the next season, and trusting Jesus becomes harder when the clouds gather. Both seasons matter. The Parable of the Sower was about to play out in their life as they hit the storm. How deeply had the seeds they just heard Jesus preach about taken root in their lives?

They learned that Jesus’ idea of rest is sometimes a stormy season, which means leaving the comfort of the crowd and journeying more closely with Jesus. Stormy seasons often call us to step out in faith, trust through the waves, and keep rowing even when Jesus seems silent.

The truth is, even when we feel alone, there are usually others in “the other boats” around us—people in similar struggles, people we could form a community with—but fear blinds us to their presence.

In storms, it often feels as if God is not present or is silent. But we need to remember what the disciples forgot: “they took Jesus with them.” They brought Jesus into the storm. Jesus was still in the boat; even more, he is the one who was calling them to the other side. The storm was just revealing their trust in Jesus. And when they finally turned to Jesus, they discovered that Jesus alone could silence the storm.

This story reminds us that the goal isn’t a storm-free life; it’s seeing and trusting Jesus and his trajectory despite the storm.

Though it seems like the journey has become calm and safe again, it hasn’t. Right after Jesus stills the storm, they land on the other side of the lake—in the Decapolis, the “bad side of town,” a region shaped by Gentile and Greek influence. The moment they step off the boat, thinking peace has returned, they are met by a demon-possessed man—strong enough to break chains and carrying the marks of a violent world.

Imagine that swing of emotion: one minute you’re on top of the world, then you think you’re dying, then you catch a glimpse of peace, and the very next moment you’re face-to-face with darkness. Yet, that is life in a nutshell. Following Jesus isn’t safe.

James R. Edwards points out something significant here: “In the eye of the storm, the disciples panic and accuse Jesus of forsaking them. In their response, Mark may intend a parallel between the situation of the disciples in the boat and those of his church in Rome, who lived under pagan powers and suffered persecution under Nero. Like the disciples, Mark’s first readers may have thought God indifferent to their hardship and suffering. This story assured them, as it assures us, that even a violent revolt against God’s Son cannot sink the boat in which Jesus is gathered with the disciples.”

That’s powerful because it reminds us this story isn’t just about the disciples—it’s about us, and it is about how we look at Jesus and the storms in our lives.

We need the storms; they catapult us into our next season, and we need to remember that in the storms, we can’t lose sight of the fact that Jesus is with us, and that only Jesus can bring peace.

This story is about so many things. It is about who Jesus is—Jesus is God, fully displaying God's authority. The same God who calmed the chaos in creation, split the sea for safe crossing, and brought order from disorder is revealed in Jesus calming the storm. Jesus is declaring God's identity. Mark is also making a point: Jesus is not only Lord of the Jewish side of the lake—Jesus is Lord of the “other side” too. Jesus goes to all and is for all, not just people like us. We are also reminded that Jesus is not chasing crowds or popularity. Jesus is calling people to trust and faith. If our lives are driven by affirmation from others, we move away from the way of Jesus.

But here are two simple invitations for us as we step back from this story. 

Remind yourself that storms reveal where Jesus is taking us, and they deepen our dependence on God. 

Like the albatross, we weren’t made to soar in calm air alone. Calm seasons make us feel strong, but stormy seasons show us what actually sustains us. Storms expose what Jesus is working on in us, what direction we are heading, and how deeply the seed of faith has taken root—whether the truth we heard on the hillside is still alive when the waves rise. Storms remind us that Jesus is God, that only God controls the wind and waves, and that peace comes from God alone. They uncover the places where we try to steer the boat ourselves, and they remind us that Jesus is still in the boat, still calling us to the other side. Sometimes Jesus says, “Let’s go to the other side,” and we don’t realize how rough the water will be. But even in the storm, the journey is holy because Jesus is present. When we trust that God is in control, peace replaces panic. :

Remind yourself that storms teach us that Jesus alone brings peace and invites us to trust God in the next season. 

Storms remind us that no amount of effort or control can quiet the chaos. Only Jesus can say, “Be still,” and calm what overwhelms us. So stop striving, and start inviting Jesus into the storm. And know that Jesus remains present in the boat even when it doesn’t feel like it. Whether Jesus feels close or far, both seasons are part of the same sacred journey. When it feels like God doesn’t care, when everything falls apart, we begin to doubt. That is why Jesus asks, “Why are you afraid? Do you still have no faith?” Scripture promises that when we go through the waters, God is asking us to trust that he is still with us.

Storms are not abandonment. That is why Paul assures the church in Philippi that the God who began a good work in us will carry it to completion. They reveal our weakness and invite us to trust that Jesus is present, powerful, and faithful.

Like the albatross, our takeaway is that we need storms—not because we enjoy them, but because they reveal where Jesus is leading us, deepen our dependence on God, and remind us that only Jesus can calm the wind and the waves. Maybe we need to teach ourselves for the storm and what it is revealing in us. Every storm is proof that God is still at work in your story; it is your choice to see it or not.