Loading...More than once I’ve experienced great panic and deep despair when faced with a situation or conflict or storm that seems
so out of control, so powerfully overwhelming and so chaotic,
and I’ve been convinced that I’m perishing.
I can relate to the plaintive question: Jesus, don’t you even care?!?
Why are you asleep, of all things?
Anyone who’s ever been through major upheaval in their own lives or in the lives of a community can probably relate to the disciples – their concerns and their questions, e.g.
• refugees: the upheaval may come because of war, civil war, persecution, or economic hardship
• community of faith: trying something new by reaching out to different people
• neighborhoods, cities, or whole country: the anxiety of economic unease, hidden poverty, fear of violence or crime, changes in society and life that make us uncomfortable and even fearful
• self: taking the risk to follow God’s call into a new territory, loss of job or sense of place in society, death of a loved one.
The storms may not come when we’re in an actual boat on a river, sea, or ocean
when the waves are higher than the gunwales
and the winds shred the sails and snap the mast
when we feel like we’re staggering around like drunkards
when we’re at our wit’s end.
But, we know the feeling.
We have known the panic and the fear of the disciples.
We recognize their disbelief – and even anger – at Jesus:
“don’t you care that we are perishing?!?”
We may have even asked this question.
We want to know if Jesus cares or even notices.
Because, look! There he is – asleep at the wheel –
in the middle of this great chaos.
~~~~~~~~~~~
What happens in the midst of the storm’s fury?
What happens when the disciples rouse Jesus and urge him to panic with them?
The tired, vulnerable man turns to the storm – the chaos, threat, and confusion – and, speaking directly to the wind and waves, he says, “Peace. Be still.”
And the chaos ceases. Immediately.
This is the One who laid the foundations of the earth
when the morning stars sang together;
and who shut the sea with doors to stop its proud waves from swamping.
Peace. Be still.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
As I hear this story, I’m curious about why Jesus suggested they, that is, Jesus and his closest followers, get in the boat to cross over to the other side of the sea. Why are they crossing the lake? What’s over there?
Sometimes, when Jesus makes a suggestion like this,
he’s offering a respite
a break
an opportunity to pray and rejuvenate.
But, when you look at the geography involved in this story and then look just past this story of the stormy sea to what comes next,
it becomes clear that Jesus wasn’t offering a break or respite.
He’s crossing a boundary.
He’s getting ready to break some taboos.
He’s suggesting that they all directly engage
with people, cultures, and forces outside their comfort zones.
As they climb in the boat, we don’t know what the disciples are thinking,
but we know that they are going along with Jesus.
Yet when the storm begins,
even these experiences fisher-folk find themselves
WAY outside of their element.
This is not just some summer squall.
This isn’t even a winter nor’easter.
It is as if the boundary crossing from Galilee and Judaism
to the “other side” of foreigners, enemies, and the wilderness
has unleashed the great forces of chaos –
the same chaos that God had set the boundaries upon during creation.
There is a reason people like to stay in their own communities.
There is a reason people stay in their own neighborhoods.
There is a reason we maintain borders, build fences or walls, and equip armies:
We are trying to keep chaos shut out and barred.
We are attempting to keep the storms of change and confusion and uncomfortableness locked away and in a detention center of some sort.
But, then Jesus invites us into the boat and suggests that we go to the other side.
Jesus calls us all – as individuals and as a community of faith – to overcome the barriers, to cross the boundaries, to break down the walls and build feast tables instead.
Jesus invites us into the chaos of acting in God’s name to share compassion and hope and life.
Is it any surprise then that we experience fear and anxiety?
Jesus is asking us to reach out to strangers.
He wants us to forgive when it is more comfortable to carry a grudge.
He invites us to love and care for people we consider enemies even when we resist with all our power.
He invites us to risk our comfort zones to act in justice.
Jesus wants us to step into a storm, a raging maelstrom,
but we are fearful. We are anxious.
We feel as though we are perishing.
And we begin to wonder if Jesus has forgotten us because
there he us, asleep in the stern:
“Teacher, Master, don’t you care that we are perishing?”
Jesus then stands up and orders the chaos to subside (or at least our experience of it), for the winds to cease and the waves to be still.
Jesus speaks to the storm,
even the storms of our lives,
and utters the word of power spoken over the waters from the beginning of creation.
Jesus speaks, and the eternal word is present –
greater than the wind and the waves,
greater than our fear of conflict,
greater than our drive for power and dominion,
greater than sin,
greater than death.
Jesus’ word is more powerful than fear, than anxiety, than chaos.
Jesus’ word is the word that is able to bring peace where peace seems out the question.
Jesus’ word is the word that invites us to trust, to have faith,
even in the midst of fear.
Jesus’ word invites us to respond to fear with trust rather than with fear.
Jesus’ word is good news to us because Jesus’ invitation and presence is guaranteed regardless of our own “stuff” that can, and does, get in the way of God’s work, God’s dream, and God’s love for the world.
Jesus wants us to join him in the boat right now.
Not when we’ve had more study time.
Not after our work and family obligations are met.
Not when we feel like we are finally ready.
Not when we think we are worthy enough.
Jesus calls us into the storm and the tumult just as we are
to live and to share God’s love and God’s life with all people:
those on this side of the lake (or the wall or the border) and those on the other side too.
Come into the boat. Ride out the chaos. Trust God in the face of fear. Amen
