This is the first sermon I delivered after being ordained a priest on June 20, 2015. It was offered at my home, sponsoring parish, Church of the Epiphany in Plymouth, MN.
The Gospel reading this refers to is Mark 4:35-41, with a reference also to 2 Corinthians 6:1-13.
We’ve been reading books from the Percy
Jackson series lately. It’s a young
adult series about Greek and Roman mythology.
So when I read this Gospel, I sometimes envision Jesus as the Greek god
Poseidon or the Roman god Neptune, almost bored, waving his hand over the sea
to calm it, [wave hand, yawn] “Be
still.” As if Poseidon is considering the fears of the mortals in the boats as
a nuisance, but is listening to their cries for help because there is someone
of value, someone of importance, someone with a purpose, on board--perhaps his
demigod son, Percy Jackson, who is on a quest to save the world from
destruction and war as dictated by the gods on Olympus.
But of course, this is not a story from Greek
or Roman mythology. It is one that makes
us sit up and take notice because in it, Jesus asks two questions that probably
plague any one of us at some time in our lives:
“Why are you afraid?”
And
“Have you still no faith?”
Whoa.
I wonder…Is lack of fear—is fear-less-ness—a sign
of strong, abiding faith?
I don’t think so, and I bet none of you think
so either. There are things in this
world that evoke fear in even the most faithful person: Times when lives are threatened and stolen in
random acts of violence; when bullying
leads to suicide; when illness changes our status quo; or when innocent people
are victims of hunger and oppression.
We read about times like these in 2
Corinthians when Paul writes that people of faith endure “afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings,
imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, [and] hunger.” And again in the Gospel, when the winds pick
up and a storm fills the boat with water.
No.
Faith is not defined by a
fear-less-ness.
But it is not defined by fear-full-ness, either.
We tend to fear things we don’t understand or
that we cannot control. Many fear the
power of weather, like the disciples did in our story today. The forces of nature are definitely beyond
our control, but we are able to do things to protect ourselves, most of the
time, from being swept up into the dangerous storm.
Sometimes, our sense of fear is what draws us
into a trusting relationship with Jesus. It is in knowing that we cannot
control the wind, rain or fire, but by living through it, seeing hope in the
face of destruction, we find our strength in something beyond our control. We find it in our relationship with the
Trinity—with God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit.
In his book, The
Lord is my Shepherd, Rabbi Harold Kushner defines faith in this way: "It has been said that patience with people is love and patience with God is faith. Faith does not mean
believing in God's existence. It means believing in God's reliability,
believing that God can be counted on." (p.83)
I can believe in God’s
reliability. In knowing that God shows
up and that I can always count on God being with me. The disciples in this story may not have
known all of this, yet. It was early in
their journey with Jesus. They were
trying to decipher meaning out of parables and learning how to live with never-knowing-what-miracle
Jesus would come up with next. They may
have known they could rely on God, but they didn’t exactly understand the
relationship between Jesus and God. I
mean, they ask, "Who then
is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?"
So when Jesus asked them “Why are you
afraid? Have you still no faith?” was he
belittling their fear of the storm? Was
he chastising them for not believing he was God’s son? Or was he, like my image of Poseidon,
brushing them off like they were interrupting his nap?
In researching this passage I learned about
the volatility of the sea and that many of the disciples came from careers on
the water—they knew the consequences that could occur with the likes of this
storm, their fear of what was happening was clearly warranted. What they needed was Jesus to help keep the
boat intact and help them get it to shore.
They were not likely looking for Jesus to calm the wind and the
sea. They simply needed him to pull his
weight!
I can imagine Jesus, waking up from a deep
sleep, somewhat oblivious to the situation, just having a God-like knee-jerk
reaction and calming the sea. Maybe his
comments to the disciples were accompanied with laughter as he watched their faces
change from fear-filled to wide-eyed with disbelief. “What?
You were afraid of a little rain?
A little water in the boat?
Pshaw. Have a little faith,
guys. I’ve got this.”
“But Jesus!
We’re fishermen. We know these
waters. We know this kind of storm. We needed your help to steer. We didn’t think you would…you would…STOP the
storm!”
I can see Jesus, still lounging where he
woke, shaking his head with a grin on his face.
“You worry too much.”
Okay, Jesus.
I get it. My idea of chaos is
different than yours. My idea of
stability is different than yours. I
make mountains out of mole hills. I get
it. YOU are in control.
I wish it were that easy.
I said earlier that Faith is not defined by a fear-less-ness. But it is not defined by fear-full-ness, either. We have choices on how we live and choices on
how we respond.
Almost three years ago I had a big
birthday. You know, one of those that
end’s in zero; and starts with a five.
Anyway, twelve women from the Minnetonka High School class of 1980
decided we needed to celebrate our milestone birthdays together with a trip to
Las Vegas. With people scattered all
over the United States, we thought it would be a good place to meet.
There are lots of things to do in Las Vegas
that don’t include gambling money at the tables or in the slot machines. Some of them include gambling with your
life. Daredevil activities, like, say,
sky diving.
So, like any 50 year old woman in reasonably
good health, who had taken a leap of faith and started seminary, I decided to
join three of my friends and take another leap… out of a plane.
You can gasp, it’s okay. J Many
of you know me well enough to know that this act of rebellion was not something
I would have thought was a good idea. I’m not a daredevil, I am not fear-less,
I’m a mom and a wife and a daughter and I have responsibilities, for crying out
loud!
But there was something about the possibility
of going sky diving that intrigued me.
Of course I knew it would surprise most everyone and that alone was
pretty fun to consider. It was something
that would take me out of my comfort zone and challenge me in a way I may never
have challenged myself otherwise.
Seminary was challenging…don’t get me wrong…but seminary was a challenge
in my head and in my heart. THIS would
be a challenge over my fears. It would
be a lesson in trust. I would have to
put my faith in something or someone besides myself. I would have to count on, rely on, God.
Once I made the decision to jump, I was much
more calm. Sometimes making a decision
is the biggest obstacle to overcome. I
knew we would be tandem jumping, meaning I would be latched to an experienced
sky diver. It would start with a lesson
on how to behave as we fell out of the plane, then we’d get all the gear on,
meet my expert sky diver and hop in the plane.
While in the plane my expert diver would attach himself to me, talking
to me the whole time about what we were doing, calming my nerves, asking and
answering questions. What was most important
to me was knowing that he wanted to get to the ground safely, just like I
did. We both had families who we wanted
to embrace again.
I really wasn’t afraid. I HAD to rely on this man, his experience,
the equipment, the pilot and the weather.
And, somehow, I did count on all of these things. This was not fear-less-ness. But I didn’t want it to be an exercise about
fear-full-ness, either. There were many
emotions in the plane full of people. One
young woman was terrified. Others saw it
as an adventure. I just wanted to
experience it. When it was our turn, we
fell out of the plane. Being strapped to
someone, you don’t really jump.
I
couldn’t breathe. I didn’t expect
that! The air was rushing past my face
so fast that I couldn’t catch it. I don’t
know if I was in the correct position when we fell or if I panicked in fear,
twisting or turning. But—I still wasn’t
afraid of falling. I was afraid that I
wasn’t breathing. I hollered at my diver
and said, “I can’t breathe!” He said I
was breathing. I covered my mouth to
block the air, so that I could gasp for air, so that I knew I was
breathing. And he pulled the rip cord
and we flew upward.
I could breathe normally again. All the fear I had been denying in my head
manifested in my inability to draw a breath.
I took a cleansing breath and looked around.
The sky was blue, the ground was brown; the
desert, the dam, the city, all below. We
circled so I could see the panorama. It was
beautiful! And silent. It was SO QUIET!
And I thought, I wonder if this is how God
sometimes sees the earth?
The peacefulness I experienced was
indescribable. There was nothing to
worry about besides making sure my feet were well positioned for our
landing. We drifted down on a soft
current, turning and looking at everything around us. We landed in a cloud of dust … and I
immediately wanted to do it again. Not
that I-can’t-breathe part. The peaceful-quiet-of-floating
part.
The friends who were waiting on the ground
were cheering as each of the four of us landed.
The four of us embraced, wearing smiles as wide as our faces would
allow, feeling like we had conquered something—gravity? — doubt? –death? — fear?
I still say I wasn’t afraid. I think I was like the disciples as they clambered
aboard their boat, ready to take a break from the crowds, to find a peaceful
shore to rest with their teacher. They
knew the water could be unstable, but they relied on their ability to navigate
the lake. Their fear only surfaced when
the storm became violent. My fear surfaced
when I thought I could not breathe.
I look back on this experience with
fondness. I see it as a metaphor in my
relationship with the Triune God. Why
did it take jumping out of an airplane for me to understand more fully my faith
in God? I learned in that fall from a
plane how to count on God in everything.
I had to let go of my desire to control my life when I decided to go sky
diving. When you are intentionally
free-falling, tethered to an expert, you have to rely on them; you have to count
on the parachute, to bring you safely to the earth. I did not have the expertise or the
experience to fall out of a plane and come to a safe landing. And when I was willing to let go of that
control, I was given a gift that I would never have received otherwise: A fuller understanding that God is ever
present—in fear, in hope—and that no matter how scary life can be, how scary
starting seminary at age 48 was, how unknown the future is, God is there, like
the parachute, riding the current with me.
“Peace. Be still.”
Jesus said. And the wind and the
water obeyed. And he tested his
disciples by asking “Why are you afraid?
Have you still no faith?”
We find ways to calm our fears. Most of the time we ask for help, like the
disciples did, or we rely on the expertise of others when they say we really “are
breathing.” We find our faith, sometimes, through
experiencing fear. Because when we learn
to rely on God, to count on God, to have faith in God, we often learn that we
have nothing to fear.
Let us pray.
Dear God of Creation, help us to always
remember that no matter the circumstances we encounter each day, you are with
us, riding the currents in the air, on the sea, sharing in our lives, guiding
us through it all. Amen.