Flooding in Texas. Hurricane season on the coast. Tornadoes, wind and rain. We know storms –storms that swamp boats or wash out homes and take down powerlines, storms that can send wind, rain, snow and tornadoes, storms that demolish everything in their path, storms that can threaten our lives. We know storms.
The disciples, being fishermen were no strangers to storms either. The sea of Galilee is only about the size of Lake Minnetonka, but because it is nestled like a bowl between the Galilean hills and Golan Heights, if the wind comes over the Heights and drops into the sea, a storm can erupt suddenly – even today.
So maybe because they knew the power of this storm or maybe because they knew that their little boat could not take on any more water and stay afloat, they became afraid. They might also have been angry that while they were working, trying to keep the boat from sinking, Jesus was sleeping on a pillow. But whether out of fear or anger, desperation or despair, they cried out to Jesus, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”
Not their best words. But then… which of us are at our best when we are afraid, when we are at the end of our rope? Which of us are our best selves when we wonder… where is GOD? Doesn’t God care? Is God asleep?
In the Gospel story, Jesus actually was sleeping. But he heard the cry for help – maybe it was really a form of prayer - from his followers. Our reading says, He woke. But I like another translation better – he arose. In other words, he got up and responded. He proclaimed to the chaos “Peace. Be still.” And it was still.
They knew storms. But at this moment they realized… they did not know Jesus. And at this was the moment, the disciples went from fear to awe and from certainty of their fate “we will perish” to the beginnings of faith, starting with their questions, wondering who is this Jesus? But they wouldn’t have gotten there without the storm.
We know storms – and have experienced lots of storms this past year – not only thunderstorms, hurricanes, and tornadoes, but also “storms” of a different sort. The pandemic affected us all – not equally – but in one way or another. There have also been storms on our streets – protests against injustice, but also riots and blockading of streets. And like the disciples, we and countless others have prayed to God for relief from this virus, for health and healing for our nation, our community and for the world.
And just as Jesus heard the cries of his disciples, Jesus hears and answers our cries and our pleas too. The coronavirus reports are improving. We are able to be back together for worship, for gatherings of family and friends and even for weddings and funerals. Oh it isn’t according to our timeline or our plan or the virus and the protests would be all wrapped up and we would be back to “normal.” But just as the disciples were not “back to normal” after the storm – we can’t be either.
While it is tempting to try to just put the pandemic and the protests behind us and move on, like the disciples, we can only learn from the storm – if we take a little time to reflect. You can’t reflect when you are bailing water. But when the boat is still and peace has come – at least for a time – that is the time look at the way that God has been working in the world – even while we were isolating at home.
As I look back on this past year, I have noticed that there are more people in the parks than ever before. And I’ve noticed that when people do gather, there is so much joy just at being together. We gathered a group of kids for VBS out on the lawn this past week and we had so much fun just getting together, learning about God’s word, playing games, making crafts and singing God’s praises. What have you noticed? Where do you see God at work in ways that you did not notice before … maybe in surprising ways?
Another reason why we can’t just go back to “normal” is that while the coronavirus reports are improving – at least in our neighborhoods – it is not better in other parts of the world – and if we have learned anything about a pandemic, the illness of one part of the world affects the health of the whole world. One of our challenges is to learn to live as citizens of the world – rather than just our family, our church, our community, our nation, we need to care for all God’s people.
This is not new. One of the reasons the disciples boat got caught in this big storm was that Jesus had wanted to go over to the “other side” of the lake. That was the place where Gentiles lived and the Israeli people did not go. It was foreign, it was “other.” But Jesus stretched the boundary of who was a part of God’s people. And Jesus is still stretching us.
We are also learning to live with some uncertainty. We don’t know if a variant of the virus will emerge or if we, like India and parts of Europe will have to go back to wearing masks and staying distant from one another. I hope not. But what do we do with this uncertainty?
I read a story about one man who was seeking clarity. He had studied ethics and was successful but was facing uncertainty about his future. He decided to go to Calcutta to work with Mother Theresa at “the house of the dying” in an effort to seek a clear answer as to how best to spend the rest of his life.
On the first morning there he met Mother Teresa.
She asked, “And what can I do for you?”
“Pray for me,” said the man.
“What do you want me to pray for?” she asked.
“Pray that I have clarity.”
Mother Theresa looked at him and said firmly, “No, I will not do that.”
“What? I’ve come to work for you and I’ve travelled thousands of miles seeking clarity and your prayers. I know you pray for others. Why won’t you pray for me?”
Mother Theresa replied: “Clarity is the last thing you are clinging to and must let go of.”
“But you always seem to have clarity. That’s what I’m longing for.”
Mother Theresa laughed and said, “I have never had clarity; what I have always had is trust. So I will pray that you trust God.”1
The disciples had less clarity after watching Jesus still the storm. And after the storms that we have been through, we may have less certainty about what our future holds. We are in a liminal space. We can’t go back to the way that things “always were”. Or maybe we can’t go back to what we nostalgically remember as the way things “always were.” The world is always changing. This pandemic storm forced all of us to notice. We do not know what the future holds.
But this we do know: God is still Lord of heaven and earth and God is still and always will be active in our world and in our neighborhoods. And so, like Mother Theresa prayed for trust for the man who visited her, let us pray that we too may trust God with our future. Let us listen for the ways in which God would have us engage in our neighborhood and with our world. And in the meantime, let us sing God’s praises and stop striving long enough to simply be in awe of God. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen
1~ Story from Sue Miley, Christian therapist in Baton Rouge, LA
Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane Faith- Lilac Way June 20, 2021