June 22, 2003
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Today’s
gospel lesson begins where last week’s ended. A week ago, we overheard Jesus
telling the disciples that the kingdom of heaven is like a seed that grows while
the sower sleeps. It is like a mustard seed that is planted and nurtured and
eventually grows into a large bush. He
wants all of his disciples to know that faith may begin in a small way, but it
can grow into some thing large. Jesus
says to his disciples, “it’s time for us to go to the other side.” But he
does not just going from one lakeshore to another. He is moving into another
world. Up until now, Jesus has been on the western, Jewish side of the lake. Now
at the end of a long day Jesus announces that the moment has come for him and
the disciples to take their message to the eastern Gentile side of the lake. The
gospel is about to be shared more broadly, and its message will become
universal. As
they go, we know that the crossing will not be easy. A storm will rise out of
the water and the faith of the disciples will be challenged.
There
are four things to keep in mind as we sail into the storm with Jesus and the
disciples. First, “the trip at night across the sea was Jesus’ plan. This is
not a diversion hatched up by the disciples to have a leisurely time with their
leader away from the pressures of the crowd. Jesus took the initiative, and the
disciples went along at his direction. They had every reason to blame him when
the weather changed. After all, the journey was his idea” (Texts
for Preaching – Year B. Louisville, Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993, p.
400). Mary
Baker wrote a hymn that puts their feelings into words.
The first verse says: Master, the tempest is
raging! The billows are tossing high! Understand
they had begun crossing over to the other side of the water on a night that gave
no indication of foul weather. It was a clear night, with just enough breeze to
move the sails at a good pace. On that night in that boat, there were no signs
of danger. In fact the movement of the ship was just calm enough to help Jesus
relax enough to go the back of the boat and take a nap. The clouds do not
disturb them. I
have to admit that I like to watch storm clouds moving across the sky. I like
standing in my front yard or at the sliding door that leads to my backyard while
I anticipate what is about to come. I am fascinated by the darkening sky and the
falling rain. But I cannot imagine being on the Galilean sea when the calm sea
became chaotic. The
calm sea would often become chaotic. Located 700 feet below sea level and
surrounded by cliffs and mountains on three sides, it was not unusual for cool
winds to come off the cliffs and mountains, and swirl the warm water into a
storm. Waves could rise as high as 30 feet. If the waves crashing against the
boat were higher than the length of the boat, or wider than the length of the
boat, it would likely capsize (lectionary.org,
p. 3). They
were not on a cruise ship or pleasure boat. Scholars believe that a typical boat
in Jesus’ day would have been about 26.5 feet long, 7.5 feet wide, and 4.5
feet high. There would have been a deck at either end, and it would have held
about 15 persons, four of them rowing (www.lectionary.org/mark,
p.2-3). It was a good boat for a short sail
across the sea. But
what seems calm can change in an instant. The phone rings and the voice on the
other end trembles with bad news. A sunny September day in 2001 becomes a day of
infamy, and outrage. Just this past February, what should have been a routine
return of the space shuttle became instead a tragic day as the shuttle came
apart and left its debris strewn over at least five states and shattered the
calm of several families. Several
of these disciples were fishermen. Surely, they had been in storms before. But
this one is different. The second verse of the hymn Mary Baker wrote says: Master, with anguish
of spirit, I bow in my grief today; This
storm was terrifying, even for theses fishing disciples. If you have ever been
in a hurricane or tornado, you know the damage wind and water can do. I have
seen the pictures, but some of you can probably testify to seeing houses moved
off their foundations, objects that weight tons flying through the air, trees
uprooted, and much of your lives left scattered and exposed. The
wind is howling and the boat is taking on water. They feel themselves losing
control. They are soaked to the bone, and frightened to the depths of their
souls. They turn to the one they have given their lives to, not so much with a
prayer, but with a plea. They do what we would do. They wake Jesus up, and their
words to him betray their panic. I
believe we can understand. Storms are all around us. Unemployment and the
disruption it brings to families is on the rise. The love of your life walks out
of the life you thought you would share together. Victory is announced in Iraq,
but nearly fifty soldiers have died since Mission Accomplished was declared. It
seems that at least once a week the local news brings a report of one more child
who has died a violent death, caught in the crossfire of an adult’s behavior.
Death comes in unexpected and unexplainable ways. There are painful transitions
in the church and in the world. Storms are all around us, and we feel soaked and
swamped, and every now and then a series of waves wash over us and we cry out as
the disciples did. “Jesus,
don’t you feel the storm all around us? Can’t you feel our world is falling
apart? Don’t you care that we are dying? How can you sleep at a time like
this? We are scared here and we need you to wake up!” As
he sleeps, Jesus lets us know the third thing we remember today. As one writer
tells us, “sleeping through danger can be a sign of faith, and Jesus has
absolute faith and trust in God. However, sleep can also represent passivity in
a moment that cries out for an active response. The disciples interpret Jesus’
sleep as evidence that he does not care enough to save them from impending
death” (lectionary.org, p. 3). All
they really know is that they are in a time of high anxiety and Jesus seems
reluctant to wake up. It feels to their wet bodies and their scared spirits that
while they are being besieged by the elements, Jesus is pushing the snooze
button so he can get ten more minutes of sleep. They need Jesus to act. “Wake
up Jesus, do something about this, now!!” They
do not understand what is happening. But Jesus knows. He knows that all authority from God is in his hands. He knows he has the power he has to heal stormy lives and
still stormy seas. So Jesus gets up, looks out at the sea in all its chaotic
churning and speaks three words. “Peace, be still!”
Literally the words mean, “Be silent! Be muzzled” (Interpretation.
Mark. Lamar Williamson, Jr. Atlanta. John Knox Press, p. 102).
His
words remind me of those times when my sisters and I were little. We would
occasionally get into an agreement about one thing or another which caused a bit
of upheaval in the house. After a time of slamming doors and loud voices, one of
my parents would say with the authority God had placed in their hands,
“Alright, that’s enough”, and it would be so. When
Jesus speaks to the roiling waters, and immediately there is a dead calm.
Nothing moves. The last verse of the hymn says: “Master, the terror is over, The elements sweetly rest; But,
then Jesus asks a question of his own. “You asked me whether I cared if you
died. Of course I did. Now answer this question for me. Were you so afraid that
your fear overwhelmed your faith? Did the water take all your trust? Did you
forget that I was on the boat? Don’t you know that I was always on the boat
with you? When it was formed in 1948, the World Council of Churches adopted as its symbol a ship on uneasy water. “The church universal is depicted as a storm-tossed boat with a cross for a mast. The stilling of the storm continues to reassure the church in every time of persecution and distress that Jesus Christ is Lord, that he is the ruler of nature and history, and that he is present with his disciples in their anxiety” (Williamson, p. 102). His question to the
disciples then is a question for us today. Storms will come into our lives, some
of us may well be in the middle of rough wind and high water now. The question
for is whether we are fair weather believers who can only trust in God and in
Jesus Christ when all is well, or whether we will trust in God, while the storm
is raging around us. The disciples really do not have a good answer for him.
They can only ask themselves, “who is this that even wind and water do what he
says?” They remind us of the fourth
thing for us to keep in mind. Like the disciples, we are
sometimes puzzled by the power of Jesus. We join them in asking about the
one who can command nature, who is this? (Texts
for Preaching, p. 400). It is Jesus himself who on
both sides of the sea and in the middle of the storm claims dominion over our
storms. The chorus of Mary Baker’s
hymn says: Water has the power to bring
life. But too much or too little water will certainly bring death with it. We
know that, but we also know something else. We know where Jesus is, he is in the
boat with us. And because we know where he is, we can move with the confidence
of David, and use the tools that fit us to do to be God’s people in this place
and beyond. Because we do, we can share Paul’s bold declaration that when
people look at us they may see a people who don’t have a lot, but have all
that we need and we can claim our identity as Christ’s people. Because we do,
we can think of our selves as ships of faith, carrying within us the peace and
hope of Jesus Christ who resides deeply within our own hearts open to the world.
And because he does, this prayer can be ours: “We
sing praises to you, O God, for you have been gracious to us amid the storms of
life. We do battle with many enemies within and among us, but you give us
confidence and courage to face them. Out of the whirlwind, you answer when we
call. We have gathered to listen for the voice we sometimes cannot hear in the
daily clamor of our lives. Help us to discard the excess baggage and unnecessary
armor that keeps us from the fullness of life you intend for us” (Gathered
by Love. United Church Press. Cleveland, p.114). Dr.
LaTaunya M. Bynum |
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Broad
Street Christian Church
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