Photo by Angela Smith
Seasick with Jesus
24 June 2018 Fifth Sunday after Pentecost – Proper 7B
Homily Preached at Trinity Parish Episcopal Church
24 June 2018 Fifth Sunday after Pentecost – Proper 7B
Homily Preached at Trinity Parish Episcopal Church
Ashland, Oregon
8:00 a.m. Spoken Mass; 10:00 a.m. Sung Mass
8:00 a.m. Spoken Mass; 10:00 a.m. Sung Mass
The Very Rev. Fr. Anthony Hutchinson, SCP, Ph.D.
God, take away our hearts of stone and give us hearts of
flesh. Amen.
The one time I got really seasick
was when I was in high school. My father
and I were fishing for salmon in a 17-foot Boston Whaler in the Strait of Juan
de Fuca. The sea rose with waves higher
than the boat was long. I started
vomiting with the buffeting, lay down in the stern and closed my eyes, and,
exhausted from a long day, I fell asleep.
When I woke later, the sea had calmed to absolute stillness and fog had
come in on the glass-like water. My father put his finger to his
lips and shushed me, and then pointed to starboard. There was a huge swooshing noise. I could smell a large mammal, something like
cows. Suddenly, an orca—what we then called a killer whale—surfaced just a few
feet from the boat. It was longer than
the boat itself. Then for 30 minutes or
so, we sat quietly, in awe but also a little scared, as a pod of about 5 of the
huge beasts, including a calf, played around our boat.
Going onto the waters in a boat has
always been the source of awe and fear for human beings, and sailors always
thought to be particularly brave or absolutely foolish. We are just
too vulnerable when out on the water. The Breton fisherman’s prayer,
otherwise ascribed to Celtic saint Brendan the Navigator who went to sea in a wicker-covered-with-hides
coracle smaller than most bathtubs, expresses the idea well, “Protect me,
Lord. Your sea is so great and my boat is so small.”
Today’s Gospel story of Jesus
calming the storm is a gem of the story-teller’s art. It starts with nightfall
fast approaching and Jesus inviting the disciples to go with him to “cross over
to the other side.” It sounds like Lake
Tiberias, the Sea of Galilee, is a symbol for death or the deep troubles we run
into in life. It is a voyage for the
adept, for Jesus’ close followers: they leave the crowds of celebrity-seekers
and curiosity-hounds behind. The
disciples take Jesus in the boat with them, “just as he is,” and have other
boats filled with other disciples tag along.
But this is not an easy journey.
A great windstorm hits them and the placid sea turns into a chaos of
huge waves that wash over the boats and begin to swamp them. People cower beneath the gunwales, are
sea-sick, and fear for their lives. But
Jesus is sound asleep, there in the stern on a cushion. They wake him up, “Teacher, do you not care
that we are perishing?” Roused from his nap, Jesus scolds the wind as if it is
a naughty child and says, “Peace! Be still!” The wind stops, a dead calm
ensues, and Jesus turns to the disciples with the puzzled question, “Why were
you so terrified? Everything’s
okay. Have a little trust, for goodness
sake!” The story ends, “And they were
filled with great awe and said to one another, ‘Who then is this, that even the
wind and the sea obey him?’”
When I heard this story as a boy, I
thought Jesus was shaming the disciples:
“O ye of little faith!” But that
is not how the story tells it. Jesus,
“just as he is,” there on a cushion in the stern where it’s a little more
stable, is ready to sleep through the night, and when woken is honestly puzzled
at the disciples’ terror. Jesus calms
the storm as the answer to the question “do you even care about us?” But he wonders, how could they possibly not
be as confident in God’s care as he is?
The point is that no matter how scary things are on our voyage across to
the other side, Jesus is there, in the stern, ready to help.
Those who told the first stories about Jesus calming the storm that later turn up in our gospels almost certainly had in mind the description of the God who calls the storms and then calms them which we recited today from Psalm 107. In port town churches and Navy chaplaincies we often hear the section of this Psalm that we recited today, the part about “those who go down to the sea in ships.”
But Psalm 107 is not just about sailors. It has several different sections describing people in many different extreme situations, where they need to rely on God. The whole Psalm could be entitled, “God, the Savior of People in Distress.”
Part (vv. 4-9) talks about people who get lost in the desert and run out of water. God there leads them back to an oasis.
Another part (vv. 10-16) describes prisoners in a dark dungeon. God leads them from darkness to light, from bondage to freedom.
Yet another (vv. 17-22) talks about people suffering from horrible illness, as the Psalmist says, “because of their wicked ways.” They are near death because they cannot eat food anymore, it has become so distasteful to them. One wonders whether the Psalmist has venereal disease, alcoholism or addiction, or some other ailment in mind. In the Psalmist's era, people thought disease came as punishment from God rather than from microbes or genetics. God heals these people when they call on him.
Finally, we see the part about those
who go out upon the sea and get caught in a storm (vv. 23-32). Again, God calms
the storm when they call on him. The psalm ends (vv. 33-41) by saying that God
can change a river into a desert, and rich springs into dusty and arid ground.
He can turn fruitful land into a salt marsh, and a desert into pools of water.
The point is that God is a reliable savior in any hardship.
So the next time we hear the story about Jesus calming the storm, let’s not just think about Jesus helping mariners only.
Think about the drug addicts and alcoholics who have been helped by Jesus when they call upon him and surrender to him. And that, whatever name they might use to call Jesus, or image they might have of their “higher power.”
Think about the physically ill who have found healing and comfort in Jesus.
Think about how his message can help those lost in mental illness, or harmful ego.
Think about the poor that Jesus calls us to serve and assist.
Think about how he helps those lost in sin and self-deception, ourselves included, and lost in exploitation and deception of others.
So the next time we hear the story about Jesus calming the storm, let’s not just think about Jesus helping mariners only.
Think about the drug addicts and alcoholics who have been helped by Jesus when they call upon him and surrender to him. And that, whatever name they might use to call Jesus, or image they might have of their “higher power.”
Think about the physically ill who have found healing and comfort in Jesus.
Think about how his message can help those lost in mental illness, or harmful ego.
Think about the poor that Jesus calls us to serve and assist.
Think about how he helps those lost in sin and self-deception, ourselves included, and lost in exploitation and deception of others.
When I heard this story as a young
boy, I though Jersus was shaming not only the disciples, but also shaming
me. “Oh ye of little faith.” “If only
you had faith, you could not only walk on water but also calm the sea itself.”
“If you have faith the size of a tiny mustard seed, you could not only move
mountains, but calm the oceans too.” All this conspired to make me want to say,
“I’m unworthy, unworthy.”
But the story is not saying that at all. This is the Jesus who spent his days with drunkards, traitors, and prostitutes, and when criticized for this replied, “sick people need a doctor, not healthy ones.” “Focus on your faith, not your fear” is what he means.
But the story is not saying that at all. This is the Jesus who spent his days with drunkards, traitors, and prostitutes, and when criticized for this replied, “sick people need a doctor, not healthy ones.” “Focus on your faith, not your fear” is what he means.
If we our circumstances make us think we need God, then we should realize that it is God that we are in need of. God is trustworthy. God, in the idea of the Psalm we chanted today, is the savior of all in distress. Relying on God leaves little room for fear. Regardless of how things turn out, we know that, in the words of the prayer, God “is doing for us more that we can ask or imagine.”
That's why Jesus calms the sea before he asks his disciples why they were afraid. He sympathizes and understands us. He just wants us to go easier on ourselves and not beat ourselves up so much with fear.
Jesus, just as he is, is there in the stern even in the roughest of seas. We need to trust him.
In the name of God, Amen.
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