Mark 4:35-41
When I was a kid, my family visited a famous Shinto shrine in Nara, Japan. I remember being captivated by the people praying in the shrine. As they drew near to pray, they clapped their hands. I was told they clapped to get the gods’ attention.
I remember being perplexed by this—I felt that my God was always listening, always there for me. Why would you need to get God’s attention?
But then I read today’s Gospel story. Jesus suggests to his disciples a trip across the Sea of Galilee, a freshwater lake that even today is known for its sudden squalls. He makes this suggestion at night, an unpredictable time on the water and at a time when other boats head to shore. As Jesus and his disciples travel across the sea, they are quickly alone.
If this were a movie, you’d have ominous music playing as they rowed out into the lake. Throughout scripture, the sea is a symbol of chaos, a powerful force of destruction that only God can master. Throw in the darkness of night, and the fact that Jesus falls asleep…well, you can just tell that something bad is going to happen.
And it does. Suddenly a great storm blows upon them, and the boat and the disciples are quickly overcome. But Jesus, unbelievably, is still asleep in the stern. The disciples are facing a life and death situation, and they shout above the storm, “Teacher, don’t you care that we are perishing??!” Panic and desperation fill their voices as the boat threatens to go down.
It doesn’t take much imagination to recognize the fear. Storms and sea are potent metaphors for us, too. We have lived through storms, both literally and figuratively. We have been ‘in over our heads,’ when everything seems out of control and we fear for ourselves and those we love. We know what it’s like to feel out there all alone, battered and buffeted, in the dark, with no way to safety. At times like this, it can be easy to feel like God is asleep, not paying attention, or perhaps out of ear shot. And so I understand the desperation and fear in the cries of the disciples because I have cried out in my own heart in my most fearful times: “Are you there, God?”
Jesus’ behavior is a stark contrast to the disciples’ fear. Where they are enveloped in terror, he rests in peace. Sleep is a sign of trust, that all is well. Jesus in his slumber signifies the unshakable faith that God is both present and good. Yet Jesus wakes at the sound of the disciples’ cries and is able to calm the storm with three words: peace, be still.
Suddenly, it’s as if everything is in suspended animation. The wind is gone; the water, smooth as glass. Mark says, there was a dead calm. What just happened?
The point of the whole story hinges on Jesus’ next words: “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” Faith is trust that God means us well. Faith is the belief that our ultimate safety is not in question. The opposite of faith is not atheism, but fear. Fear causes anxiety, paralysis, a myopia that prevents us from seeing what is true as well as the needs of others. Faith, on the other hand, opens the door for God to act in healing, forgiveness, joy, and mercy.
The point of this whole story then isn’t whether Jesus is awake or asleep. The question isn’t whether conditions are favorable or unfavorable. The question is this: In the inevitable storms of life, will you choose faith like Jesus, or fear like the disciples?
Today we celebrate the baptism of Tia Beck. Her parents and sponsors and family bring her here to receive God’s promises that she may grow in faith, love, and obedience to the will of God. We, the broader church family, along them provide the matrix where her faith will grow. Our loving care for each other, for Tia, and for people outside our church will teach Tia about God’s love. Our trust in God is the example that Tia will build on.
That isn’t to say that you need to have perfect faith to pass it on. Faith wavers for humans— the disciples had times when their faith brought about healing and hope as well as times when it faltered. Faith is not so much a feeling as it is a matter of choosing a posture of trust rather than fear. It’s about being willing to try again when the storms of life terrify us and we forget that we are ultimately OK.
We also meet as a congregation in our annual meeting today. The agenda may seem a little dull: revisions to our constitution, a budget and a slate of leaders to approve. But the work this meeting represents is the scaffolding upon which our ministries are built—ministries that support Tia’s and all of our growth in faith—and so, this meeting and this work matters.
Looking back at my experience at the Shinto shrine, it is clear to me that in that place, worshipers found peace and connection. The clapping was not actually a sign of the deity’s unavailability, but rather the belief that a person COULD receive attention when needed. It was an act of faith.
That’s what we are called to as well—to choose faith rather than fear. Our God is a God who responds in the midst of the storm. Jesus is our model of trust and the one in whom we can put our trust. He is the one who has the power to calm the storm.