When evening had come, Jesus said to his disciples, ‘Let us go across to the other side.’
Most of us don’t have any trouble remembering what happens next in this Gospel account. A huge storm comes out of nowhere on the Sea of Galilee, as they are prone to do because of the fierce winds which blow off the Golan Heights from the east. One such storm, in March 1992, sent waves ten feet high crashing into downtown Tiberias and caused significant damage to the city.
The storm on the Sea of Galilee 2,000 years ago was not conjured up just for Jesus and his disciples; it was a storm that could happen to any of us at any time. I would guess that most of you don’t even remember reading about that storm in 1992, but we have no trouble remembering the one from Mark’s Gospel because in that account there was someone who stood up in a boat and shouted back at the wind and the waves, and that storm ceased.
Unfortunately, whenever we are confronted by a miracle that defies the laws of nature so blatantly and with such vigor, we are most often tempted to ask, Did it really happen that way?
As I have stated more than once, that’s a fun question, but it is nonetheless a distraction; it’s a question that causes us to drift from the more important question which is: Why did the author of the Gospel of Mark want to include this story in his ‘Good News’ account of Jesus and his disciples?
The writer did not include this story in his narrative because it would make for a good production on the Weather Channel. He included it as nourishment for those times when our journey becomes turbulent.
In 1633, Rembrandt painted a scene of this story on canvass. Many believe that Rembrandt painted his own face on one of the men in the boat right next to another man who is holding on to his hat.
I believe that is what this story calls us to do: To see ourselves holding onto our hats in the midst of the storms that come as we experience those moments in life where we are called to cross over to the other side.
I think of this Gospel as a sort of performative parable that goes something like this:
The Kingdom of God is like a group of friends crossing to the other side of the sea in a fishing boat. Suddenly a fierce storm arises. As experienced as they are, they are nearly helpless in the midst of violent winds and pounding waves, but one present among them was able to bring peace and calm to the storm with a single command. He reminds them that their faith will save them, and they marvel at his authority.
Crossing over is a metaphor that we find throughout the Bible from Noah – to Joshua – to Jesus. Crossing over is a part of our lives from birth to death. I guess the question that this Gospel story begs us to ask is, Will we remember who is in the boat with us, and will it make a difference?
All of us, at one time or another, have stepped into the boat to make the alluring journey to the other side; all the while trembling because we know that circumstances and challenges might overtake us. Just think of those times when you sat outside, waiting to be called into a life-changing interview.
Most of us have begun that crossing over as we transition into new ways to do ministry from time to time. We’ve all felt swamped along the way and the fear that we are alone. We’ll feel it again. Jesus is telling us, begging us to believe that we are never alone.
We need only wake him up by looking and listening for him even amid the sound of thunder and slapping waves.
So often in times of turmoil and unrest in our lives we, like the disciples in our Gospel this week, assume that God is aloof and distant and doesn’t really care all that much about we are facing. But in this stormy parable on life, we find that God is always in the boat with us. God is always making every crossing over with us. God experiences the waves of anxiety and fear right alongside us. God knows only too well why we sometimes need to hold onto our hats, and God’s presence alone can bring calm. . . bring us to the other side in one emotional piece.
This boat ride on the Sea of Galilee happens to us all the time as individuals. Each and every one of you have been in that boat in the dark night. I’m sure of it!
I don’t believe for one moment that St. Mark told this story in his gospel to put Jesus’ supernatural powers on display! He told us this story so that we can see that faith in the living Christ can restore the earth to Eden-like characteristics; that faith in the living Christ can make the desert blossom; that faith in the living Christ can make it possible for the lion to lie down with the lamb and that faith in the living Christ is what it will take to turn swords into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks.
Jesus Christ has the power to change creation. I believe waking him up in the boat is a powerful metaphor on prayer. If you and I are going to survive the next crossing over together, then we both must spend that time in prayer.
I believe this is time of crossing over for us in many of our churches. There are no doubt changes ahead which may cause some of us to hold onto our hats but think of them as the turning of a page in a good book. You don’t turn it to bring that page to an end; you turn it so the story can continue.
In that Rembrandt painting of the Storm on the Sea of Galilee, the artist painted a small spot of sun. . . just a bit of orange. . . breaking through in the clouds ahead of that tossed-about boat. It’s easy to miss unless you look ahead in the painting.
My prayer is that we as individuals and as Communities of Christ will always be able to find the Christ next to us in the boat and then see the light ahead of us.
May our gracious God bless each of you in the crossing over that is ahead!
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