"In the boat"-Sermon for Proper 7, Mark 4:35-41:
Today we have before us Mark’s telling of the familiar story of Jesus and his disciples in a boat on the Sea of Galilee. They are traveling from one side of the sea, or large lake, to the other…presumably to get some well-earned rest after a long day of healing and teaching among large crowds…when a storm arises…wind and waves that threatens the boat being swamped and presumably then sinking into the sea. Depending on how far from shore the crew actually is this is a life-threatening and certainly very dangerous situation. Mark tells us there are actually several boats in the flotilla, if you will, so perhaps more than a just a few lives were seriously endangered by the unexpected storm. Now, we know how the story concludes with the best sort of ending. Jesus, after being awoken by his disciples, miraculously quiets the storm…entirely…saving each and every person from the potential tragedy.
I will note this story happens relatively early in Mark’s gospel, meaning Jesus’ friends and followers are still really just coming to know who he is. It seems clear to them that God is up to something life-changing in the budding ministry of this new Rabbi, Jesus. Something that has moved their hearts, perhaps in way not easily described, but, nonetheless moved them, to leave home and hearth…leave careers and steady income…to follow him…to follow Jesus. But, seeing Jesus quiet and control tempest and sea…well this is a whole other level of awesome. As Mark writes, “[T]hey were filled with great awe and said to one another, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” The eyes, minds and hearts of the disciples are opening wider. God, in Jesus’ life and ministry, is, indeed, up to something…but following the calming of the storm, perhaps that something is bigger than Jesus’ followers ever could have imagined.
Now, I am sure you remember that in John’s gospel, John uses the word sign rather than miracle for just these sorts of divine appointments or supernatural events in Jesus’ ministry. And, I believe the purpose for this intentional word choice, sign rather than miracle, is to point us to something the supernatural event is saying to us about Jesus’ identity and purpose beyond the miracle itself. And, I believe this is true of all of Jesus’ miracles in each of the four gospels, whatever the word used to describe the supernatural event. They all, indeed, point us to a deeper meaning that lives under or, again, beyond the surface of the event itself. Now, it is important to say that delving into the meaning beyond the supernatural event does not in any way diminish or make less true the miracle itself. In the case of the story before us today…literal lives were saved when Jesus silenced the storm. This, in and of itself, is a mind-blowing, life-saving miracle that should be applauded, remembered and celebrated. But the sign, that is, again, what the miracle is pointing us to is also really important for us to delve into together. I would say, even, that what the sign points us to…is where we can connect an amazing event that took place some two thousand years ago…to the life we live right now, as those friends and followers of Jesus in our own day.
So, here is some of what I think this sign is pointing each of us to for the living of our own days. And, let’s begin with the water…the sea that the boats that encountered the storm were riding upon. Now, in the ancient world, water was an archetype for chaos. In the creation story, God moves over the primordial waters of chaos brining order to that chaos. Atoms drawn together via gravity to form solid masses…first planets and then living things upon, at least, this planet. And, in an ancient world where there were no YMCA’s yet present…no ubiquitous swimming classes for toddlers and children…most people did not know how to swim. Thus, traveling over deep water was, indeed, dangerous if one were to fall overboard whether by accident or in a storm. Further, traveling over water for long distances in wooden boats propelled by people power or perhaps wind without modern technology or ways to determine weather patterns made such travel inherently dangerous. Which is all to say that water represented, again, chaos, uncertainty, even danger. Thus, traveling upon the sea is a biblical symbol of traveling through life…all of life. For, we, indeed, live in a world of chaos, uncertainty and there is even danger. As we read the news and feel in our hearts the world’s suffering…as we deal with our own trials and challenges…as we face loss, illness and uncertain futures, it can feel like we are treading water with wind and waves threatening to overtake us…until we disappear into a bottomless, airless abyss. Thus, again, traveling on the sea is a biblical symbol for simply traveling through life…a life full of chances, changes and, at times, great challenges.
But, I note that though the storm threatens to throw those traveling with Jesus across the Sea of Galilee into the chaotic and life-threatening waters. They are not actually treading water in the story…they are in boats that were likely lovingly, well-crafted and purposefully created to keep people as safe as possible upon the waters, or as safe as their sea-faring technology would allow. And, also importantly, they are not floating in the sea alone. They have their fellow sailors, their fellow companions, who, once the storm hits, are likely holding on to each other and working diligently to bale those chaotic waters out of the boat and keep them afloat…fighting back against the storm. Friends, if the sea is the biblical symbol of moving through a chaotic world, then the boat is the biblical symbol of the Church. Thus, the Church’s fundamental role in this life is to create communities that provide prayer, support, care, love, friendship, hands to hold, shoulders to cry on, ears to listen, wise counsel and discernment…as we together…always together…always with each other…in this boat we call Church…navigate through the chaotic waters of life…providing safe passage through this life, over the seas of chaos, and into the next. Though not shaped like the hull of a boat, you will see that the ceiling of the church we are building and will soon occupy intentionally looks like shiplap…like the sides of a wooden boat. And, I hope every time you look up at it…you will remember that we are in God’s boat together…that we are not alone…that we have each other…that we are bound together…committed to care for each other…fighting together against the inevitable storms in life…being certain that no one ever falls overboard. The boat, whether traveling over calm seas or turbulent, is the biblical symbol of the Church.
With this person’s permission, I want to tell a quick story about what I might describe as this particular cabin in God’s great boat we call St. Julian’s. I was literally sitting down to write this very sermon, when I heard a loud knock on the front door of the church. I left my keyboard and went to the door where I discovered one of our parishioners in distress. This person was feeling sick, unbalanced, nauseous and confused…having trouble even standing. This person had been driving while feeling increasingly and seriously unwell…trying to get home…but feared not making it. Further, there was likely no one at their home at the time who could help if need be. Thankfully this person realized they were actually quite close to the church…a potential life raft of sorts…so they diverted to the church, which takes we back to the top of the story. After I helped this person get seated and brought them a glass of water…it was clear they were in real distress, so I pulled my car around…helped get them in it and sped off to the emergency room. I waited anxiously with them till they were taken to a room and then waited in the lobby till a family member arrived. I am very glad to say that…like in Jesus’ story…this story also concluded with a happy ending…as the situation turned out to not be life-threatening, and they are on the road to recovery. But, friends, I can’t tell you how happy I was…that this boat…that our boat…was shipshape, steady on the sea of life when truly, truly needed. And, I know this person…one of our own beloved…feels the same. This is just one example of so many that I could share about this church, this boat, living into our purpose…which is to hold each other up…to keep each other afloat…especially when the storms rage. May we always be this for and with each other in times of celebration and travail…when the seas of life are calm and a pleasant breeze passes our way…and, most especially, when the storm clouds amass at our bow and there is no turning back.
And, though the signs and symbols which this miracle of Jesus quieting the storm point us to are many…too many to recount in this sermon, I must share one more. And, it is perhaps more of a promise than a symbol, which is, of course, that we humans are not the only ones in the boat. This church we have built together and the whole Church universal on every shore on this planet, when at our best, provide so much good…we are lovingly made and well-crafted communities, and we are full of loving hands ready to grasp hold of one another in our time of need…when the boat rocks…but, simply said, our human powers are limited. Yet, the power of the one who is the source of all of our good efforts…the one who even has power over tempest and sea…the one who brings order out of chaos…the one who has conquered the great abyss of death itself…Jesus…is in God’s great boat with us. And, I can’t tell you how much comfort that brings me, and I hope you.
Even if, at times, it seems like he might be sleeping, Jesus is always intimately aware of the joys and dangers we face, as we make our way across the sea of life. He has already brought peace to the chaos of sin and death that seek to sink us under their turbulent waves. Jesus, our Captain, will see us to “terra firma”…the unshakeable new heaven and new earth…that greater shore that possesses a greater light…where there is no sorrow, tears or pain…only life, love and bliss that is everlasting…from forever to forever…till every storm is left long behind us…till we stand shoulder to shoulder with all those we love…and, then, there is peace, at the last. Amen.