Sermon Calm in the middle of the Storm

June 21, 2009

Trinity Church, Staunton

Mark 4:35-41

“A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped.” (v.37)

Today’s passage from the gospel of Mark is one of our better known NT stories. Jesus is in the boat with his disciples. If we back up to the beginning of chapter 4 we remember that Jesus has gotten into the boat because when he began teaching that day such a large crowd gathered around him he needed a little breathing room. So he’s been in the boat all day teaching-bound to be tired and he tells his disciples, “Let’s go to the other side of the lake,” so they leave the crowd behind and head out. The way the Sea of Galilee is surrounded by mountains and hills, it acts as a natural funnel and it is not uncommon for storms to kick up at a moment’s notice. So the storm does kick up and is in full force, and the disciples in their very human state are afraid, terrified; a couple of them are skilled fisherman and they probably know to bring in the sails, to bail out the incoming water and to row like mad. But that must not be enough. They’ve done all they know how to do-they’ve tried with all their might to control the situation and they are finding it is not enough. So what do they do? They turn to their teacher only to find him sleeping! I mean sleeping-really! In the middle of a storm.

I have an icon of this same stormy scene that shows Jesus asleep with serenity painted on his face, and the disciple Peter with his clothes flapping violently in the wind with his open, empty hands out pleading to Jesus and the other disciple John cowering like a child –very afraid, terrified curling up into himself. (I have the icon at the back of the church)The icon suggests the tremendous vulnerability of people when faced with a storm they cannot control and the panic that can accompany chaos and yet there is just a hint of what is to come in Jesus’s calm face. The story is a study in contrast- the raging of the sea and the serenity of Jesus’ face, the worry and anguish of the disciples’ cries for help and the calm that ensues with Jesus’s words, “Peace! Be still!”

At the height of the disciples’ worry and panic, Jesus is awakened and thus awakens hope within them, as he rebukes the wind. “Peace! Be still” would more literally be translated from the Greek, “Be silent! Be muzzled!” Another translation that works well is, “Quiet now! Be calm!” (NEB) In the middle of this life-threatening storm is the center of calm, the center of peace, the center of life itself in the face of Jesus. The same disciples who have witnessed Jesus’s healings, exorcisms and teachings don’t fully grasp who Jesus is as Lord of all creation. As the disciples return their focus to Jesus, return their attention to the teacher, as they return to their spiritual senses they find peace and calm and reassurance.

I have been practicing centering prayer for about 2 years. (Anybody here who has done C.P. before?) C.P. is a form of prayer that is entirely different than what we practice in church on a Sunday morning. It is not liturgical, not done aloud, is not a prayer of thanksgiving or of praise or of intercession or supplication. In fact only a word or two is used. C.P. is a prayer of intention- A time when one opens oneself up to God, focuses on a sacred word or two like “Rest” or “Jesus” or “Yahweh” to get centered and then one lets go of all thoughts and just rests in the presence of God. When we find ourselves thinking a thought, we let it go and return to the sacred word. Well, for those of you who have tried this, you know how difficult it can be to not think and let your minds be still. It is amazing how much chatter goes on in our heads even when we may outwardly look peaceful and quiet. The Buddhists call this brain chatter the “monkey mind.” Father Thomas Keating is known as one of the more recent founders or rather restorers or resurrectors of this ancient Christian practice of C.P. Father Keating was leading a workshop on C.P. at a convent one day; after her first twenty minute session of C.P., a nun said, “Oh, Father Keating, I’m such a failure at this prayer. In twenty minutes, I’ve had ten thousand thoughts.” Without missing a beat, Father Keating said to her, “How lovely! Ten thousand opportunities to return to God!” (Repeat)

Returning to God. This is what centering prayer is about and what this story of the stormy sea is about: returning to God. The disciples may not have known it yet but in their turning to Jesus they were returning to God and in that return they would be saved, they would find peace in the middle of the storm. Jesus says to the disciples after stilling the storm, “What are you afraid of? Have you still no faith?” (Don’t you get it yet?) As Mark is prone to do throughout his gospel, instead of answering all of his questions he often forwards them on to his audience. Jesus’s questions go right over the heads of the seafaring disciples on to us-you and me. What are we afraid of? Where is our faith in the real situations of life?

Most of us should have no trouble coming up with examples of our own storm stories (and maybe even a couple of them would involve a boat!) We experience storms of all kinds both individually, and as a community. The storms of a frightful physical or mental illness, of dark periods in a relationship, of accidents, the storms of a great financial loss, of losing a job, of the betrayal of a spouse or a friend, the storms of addiction, economic disruption, of not getting into the college we had hoped for, the storms of the death of a parent, a child or a spouse. All of these storms in life can give us reason to despair, reason to ask God- “Are you even there? Do you know what I am going through, and if you do, do you even care?” Like the storm icon that shows John cowering we may be tempted to retreat into ourselves, to curl up in the fetal position and wait for the time to pass, or like Peter with open hands we may return to Jesus and awaken hope as we attempt to awaken Jesus. To reach a point in our lives when we cry out, “I am at a total loss. I simply do not know what to do!” is to reach a point of opportunity- to know ourselves as we truly are- God’s creation, a being not in control, utterly dependent on our creator. That seeming void is the place where God resides awaiting us, calling us to trust him, calling us to return to him, calling us to have faith in the source and strength of our being. John Greenleaf Whittier said in one of his poems:

Nothing before, nothing behind,

The steps of faith

Fall on the seeming void

And find the rock beneath

Being a follower of Christ does not mean that there will always be peace in our lives-both external and internal, but what it does mean is that Jesus is in the boat with us, right in the middle of the storm: there is peace in the middle of the storm. And he will get us to the other side of the lake. He will see us through, that we may continue to grow in him, continue to do the work he has given us to do. We know that the great windstorms will arise, the waves will beat into the boat and it will be swamped at times. The storms will come into our lives though their form and substance may change. And when the storms come (not if) we can use the experience of the previous storms, bringing in the sails, bailing out the water, rowing like mad and calling on the name of our God to be the calm in the midst of it. We can remember that sometimes we face a seeming void but will indeed find the rock beneath our feet of faith. Return to Jesus as often as you can-even 10,000 times in twenty minutes! Amen.