Non-Violent Swords

Non-Violent Swords from Joseph Taber on Vimeo.

Romans 6:1-11
1What then are we to say? Should we continue in sin in order that grace may abound? 2By no means! How can we who died to sin go on living in it? 3Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? 4Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life. 5For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.

6We know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be destroyed, and we might no longer be enslaved to sin. 7For whoever has died is freed from sin. 8But if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. 9We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him. 10The death he died, he died to sin, once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God.

11So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.

This is the Word of the LORD
Thanks be to God

Matthew 10:24-39
24"A disciple is not above the teacher, nor a slave above the master; 25it is enough for the disciple to be like the  teacher, and the slave like the master. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household!

26"So have no fear of them; for nothing is covered up that will not be uncovered, and nothing secret that will not become known. 27What I say to you in the dark, tell in the light; and what you hear whispered, proclaim from the housetops. 28Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell. 29Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. 30And even the hairs on your head are all counted. 31So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.

32"Everyone therefore who acknowledges me before others, I also will acknowledge before my Father in heaven; 33but whoever denies me before others, I also will deny before my Father in heaven.

34"Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. 35For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; 36and one's foes will be members of one's own household. 37Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; 38and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. 39Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.

This is the Word of the LORD
Thanks be to God

There are passages in scripture that hold great meaning for me. Some of them happened to intersect with my life at particularly poignant moments, and shaped how I think about God, and about God's people. Some of them emerged out of intense study as I wrestled with what they might mean in a world that is so far removed from the culture and time in which it was written.

Other passages make me profoundly uncomfortable because they push against the views I hold as central to my understanding of God.

Matthew is my favorite gospel, and the excerpt from his narrative which we read today makes me profoundly uncomfortable.

I'd much rather talk about Christ's ability to bring people together, seen in the feeding of the five thousand. I'd much rather talk about how Christ calls us to turn the other cheek, seen in the sermon on the mount. I'd much rather talk about the Christ who is Lord of all creation, seen in the calming of the storm, saying "Peace, be still."

But this passage says "Do not think that I have come to bring peace; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one's foes will be members of one's own household."

Oh it would be so much more comfortable, in this anxious and divided world, to turn back to Matthew's fifth chapter and remind ourselves of the beatitudes, "Blessed be the Peacemakers..."

Oh it would be so much easier, in this violent and reactive time, to look to Matthew's twenty-sixth chapter and remind ourselves of Jesus's arrest and betrayal, "Then Jesus said to [Peter], 'Put your sword back into its place; for all who take the sword will perish by the sword...'"

But studying scripture is not always easy, and discipleship does not always make us comfortable.

Even though this passage makes me profoundly uncomfortable, it's still a part of our shared story. It's scripture, a gift from the Holy Spirit to be cherished, and by which we are to be instructed. We are disciples, each of us, and are not above our teacher, Jesus Christ, the master whom we serve. This passage has something to teach us, even if it's difficult to harmonize with the other stories depicting Christ as a peacemaker.

"Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one's foes will be members of one's own household"

The community to whom Matthew was writing was being persecuted by their families and neighbors as Christianity was just being born. We may not be suffering the same kind of persecution, but our community is also hurting. Our family feels divided.

There are folks in our church who celebrate the actions that our General Assembly took this week. Others are deeply offended and feel abandoned by the denomination they have loved for so long. One group finally feels accepted in their own homes, that justice and grace have been extended to them at last. Another wonders if they can still call this church home, when they struggle to reconcile their understanding of scripture, of sin, and of repentance with the stand our church has taken.

Our family feels divided, and many of us are ready to draw our swords, and to answer our hurt with cut-off. There is as strong temptation to wield this text to end our relationships with those with whom we disagree, assuming that because we understand God differently, we cannot be a church together.

I don't think that temptation is exclusive to either perspective. I've heard many times around this debate "if they're not willing to move, let them leave, who needs them." I've also heard "If the church makes this move, they have left God, and I will no longer associate with them." Both reactions will use this scripture to justify their cut off. "After all, Jesus came not to bring peace, but a sword."

But we read more than just that line this morning. There is more to this passage than the opportunity to gloat over "winning" or snarl over "losing." Perhaps our foes are members of our own households, as verse 36 states, but we must remember whose household this is.

We are disciples and servants, our master and teacher is Jesus Christ, Lord of heaven and earth. "A disciple is not above the teacher, nor a slave above the master; it is enough for the disciple to be like the  teacher, and the slave like the master. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household!"

Our congregation, our presbytery, our denomination, our family feels divided, and many of us are ready to draw our swords to defend "us" from "them." But their foes are members of their own household, we remain members of Christ's household even while we are fighting with one another. This is not a matter of "us" vs "them." This is a family fight, and it's "us" vs "us." We can cross theological swords over this issue and still remain a family. We are members of Christ's household, united, as our Romans passage reminds us, in baptism.

Christian discipleship does not stand still, in my experience. There are always new ministry opportunities before us, and new sins of which we can repent. Each particular person brings their individual perspective to the ways that God is working in the world, and how the church should respond. Those different perspectives can make for strong disagreement within the body of Christ, but they can also show us new ways that the Holy Spirit is at work, and we may recognize Christ in a fellow believe.

My first Sunday here, I talked about how God has a word to say to me through the people in this congregation. I firmly believe that to be true, and so I am listening for what God is teaching me here. That's part of my discipleship. I believe it is essential for us to remain connected, especially when we disagree. I am not always right, and I struggle with some parts of the Bible, and someone with a different perspective can teach me a way that God is moving in the world that I would not have considered otherwise. I hope that this congregation, my church family, can remember that we are reconciled by Christ, and that is more powerful than anything that may try to divide us.

We may think ourselves enemies, but we must remain connected to our LORD and to the other members of our household. While we were yet sinners, enemies of God, Christ died for us, and we have been baptized into that death as well. That's what Christian Love is like, and it is by no means easy.

In fact, Christian love can make us profoundly uncomfortable. But it's who we are, or at least who we strive to be.

I think we avoid talking about difficult issues, and cut off is an avoidance, because we are worried about being impolite by disagreeing openly. So we end up covering up our wounds, which lets them fester and grow deeper. "Kingdom work, it turns out, is more controversial and subversive than conventional kindness."

Just before this congregation voted to extend a call to me, Leah and I went up to Table Rock State Park in the mountains of South Carolina. We went to celebrate our three year anniversary and to take intentional time together before starting my ministry, which we knew would affect our ability to spend time together.

While we were there, we hiked up the mountain. It was Leah's idea, our hikes usually are her idea, so she was in front, and I followed behind. At the top of the mountain, we crossed paths with another couple, and the guy was a pretty typical obnoxious college student who was trying to prove how cool he was. He made a comment about how annoying it was that the women were leading the hikes, and invited me to agree with him.

It was an opportunity to share how much I love my wife, to brag about how avid a hiker she is, and that I don't need to prove myself by being better than her, I could just enjoy being with her. I could have started a relationship with this guy that encouraged him to expand his worldview that maybe it was ok that the person who was more familiar with the trail go first.

Instead I gave him a response that I thought would make him go away. I dismissed him with a nice comment, instead of engaging him with a loving one. After hiking three miles, I didn't have the energy to have the disagreement and discussion with him. I wish I had, because he was a child of God who didn't deserve to be ignored by me.

It's not enough to just be nice to one another, to keep the peace because we're afraid of conflict. We are commanded to love one another, and sometimes that means conflict as we work out what it means to be disciples, in a changing world.

Lots of folks see eternal life as the goal of Christianity. This passage points to taking up our cross as the goal. If I'm a really nice person, I'll get to hang out with the other nice folks in a sort-of heavenly country club and play golf with Moses on the weekends.

The call of the gospel is, for Presbyterians, an assurance that we have eternal life, and therefore are able to take up our crosses and follow Jesus. God keeps us, and not even those who would kill us can break that hold. So even when it makes us profoundly uncomfortable to disagree, God still keeps us and makes us one.

In our gospel passage this morning, Jesus is assuring the disciples of God's love and protection over them, telling them "Do not be afraid, you are of more value than many sparrows." We can also find unity in that assurance. We are of more value than many sparrows, and so are they, the ones with whom we disagree, the family members with whom we are fighting. God also values them, and it wouldn't hurt so much if we didn't still value them too. With Christ's assurance and God's guidance, we struggle through these issues together. But to quote our Moderator, Dr. Heath Rada, "let's disagree boldly, but never stop loving each other."

This congregation was formed a little over 67 years ago when the two Presbyterian Churches in town reunited after a family dispute, between two brothers as I've heard it, split the church. Our denomination was formed a little over 31 years ago when two churches reunited after over a century of division. We have seen divisions in our families mended with time, but more importantly with love for one another.

Our congregation has seen dysfunction and disunity, where people talk about one another rather than to one another. We know how much pain that can generate. It's much healthier to talk with one another about where we stand, even if it means we disagree with one another. "So have no fear of them; for nothing is covered up that will not be uncovered, and nothing secret that will not become known."

Our disagreements will only divide us if we let them, if we forget who it is that brings us together as one household. Because we don't gather in this place each week because we agree on what our General Assembly says. We gather in this place because "we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his." The issues which divide us are significant, but our God is so much greater, and has redeemed us already.

This passage of scripture makes me profoundly uncomfortable, but it's the word of the Lord just as much as my favorite verses are. There are people in this world with whom I am uncomfortable, with whom I disagree fiercely, but they are God's children just as much as I am. The same God who did not give up on us when we were steeped in sin also calls us to love one another.

God keeps us together. Our church does not win or lose by the vote of the General Assembly. Our Victory is won though the hands of the High King of heaven. That victory is so much more than the hurt we feel in disagreement, and give us the faith to connect with one another, even though we may disagree on even important issues. We are united by our baptism into Christ's death. "All of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his."

#Witness

#Witness from Joseph Taber on Vimeo.

Isaiah 43:8-13

⁸Bring out the blind people

who have eyes,

the deaf ones who have ears. 

⁹All the nations are gathered together,

the peoples are assembled.

Which of them announced this?

Who predicted to us the past events?

Let them bring their witnesses 

as a defense;

let them hear and say, “It’s true!”

¹⁰You are my witnesses, say the LORD,

my servant whom I chose,

so that you would

know and believe me

and understand that I am the one.

Before me no god was formed;

after me there has been no other.

¹¹I, I am the LORD,

and there is no savior besides me.

¹²I announced, I saved, I proclaimed,

not some stranger among you.

You are my witnesses, says the LORD,

and I am God.

¹³From the dawn of time, I am the one.

No one can escape my power.

I act, and who can undo it?

This is the Word of the Lord,

Thanks be to God

John 9:1-7, 24-38

¹As Jesus walked along, he saw a man who was blind from birth. ²Jesus’ disciples asked, “Rabbi, who sinned so that he was born blind, this man or his parents?”

³Jesus answered, “Neither him nor his parents. This happened so that God’s mighty works might be displayed in him. ⁴While it’s daytime, we must do the works of him who sent me. Night is coming when no one can work. ⁵While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.”

⁶After he said this, he spit on the ground, made mud with the saliva, and smeared the mud on the man’s eyes. ⁷Jesus said to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam” (this word means sent). So the man went away and washed. When he returned, he could see.

²⁴Therefore, [The Jewish Leaders] called a second time for the man who had been born blind and said to him, “Give glory to God. We know this man[Jesus] is a sinner.”

²⁵The man answered, “I don’t know whether he’s a sinner. Here’s what I do know: I was blind, and now I see.”

²⁶They questioned him, “What did he do to you? How did he heal your eyes?”

²⁷He replied, “I already told you, and you didn’t listen. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you want to become his disciple too?”

²⁸They insulted him: “You are his disciple, but we are Moses’ disciples. 29We know that God spoke to Moses, but we don’t know where this man is from.”

³⁰The man answered, “This is incredible! You don’t know where he is from, yet he healed my eyes! ³¹We know that God doesn’t listen to sinners. God listens to anyone who is devout and does God’s will. ³²No one has ever heard of a healing of the eyes of someone born blind. ³³If this man wasn’t from God, he couldn’t do this.”

³⁴They responded, “You were born completely in sin! How is it that you dare to teach us?” Then they expelled him.

³⁵Jesus heard they had expelled the man born blind. Finding him, Jesus said, “Do you believe in the [Son of Man]?”

³⁶He answered, “Who is he, sir? I want to believe in him.”

³⁷Jesus said, “You have seen him. In fact, he is the one speaking with you.”

³⁸The man said, “Lord, I believe.” And he worshipped Jesus.

This is the Word of the Lord

Thanks be to God

For two thousand years we’ve heard stories of the light of the world who came into the world. For two thousand years we’ve heard stories of darkness that cannot understand the light. For two thousand years we’ve heard stories of the blind and lame and sick and dying being healed.

And for two thousand years we have continued to have people grow sick, for two thousand years we have had people go blind. For two thousand years we have lived with the symptoms of our slavery to sin. For two thousand years we have wondered why it still hurts so much if our salvation has already been accomplished.

For two thousand years we have had brutal wars that spanned across the world that Jesus came to save. For two thousand years we have had diseases that spread throughout nations. For two thousand years we have had towns cry out in terror when their children were victims of violence in the very places we build to teach and protect them. For two thousand years we have witnessed loved ones descend into their own personal darknesses of fear, weakness, and despair.

And after two thousand years of hearing one story and having another thrust in front of us, it is easy to forget, to lose interest, to get distracted, and to no longer wish to see.

For two thousand years we have walked with these two stories competing to shape our reality. I don’t think that one story is more real than the other, I think it’s terribly insensitive to tell someone who is grieving, or hurting, or in pain that their suffering is not real. Because it is real. Sometimes the darkness is blindingly real. In those moments we need someone to tell us a story that we cannot believe, because we’re still blind, even though we have eyes, and we’re still deaf, even though we have ears.

The story we cannot believe comes to us from the great cloud of witnesses who hold us up, from those who have a vision of what God is doing in the world, and describe it to us, enabling us to move forward in service to a God who faithfully holds us up even when all we see is our stumbling.

Heirs to two thousand years of church missteps and faithfulness, You, St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church, are God’s witnesses. God’s servant, whom he chose, so that you would know and believe God, and understand that God is the one.

Grammar nerd that I am, I love that while “witnesses” is plural, “servant” is singular. How’s that for what it means to be the church. As we discern what our guiding vision for the next chapter of our life together should be, we have in this passage a description of us both as individuals and as a collective.

Each of us, individually, are God’s witnesses, because not only have we seen the work that our God has done, and is doing, we are called to testify on God’s behalf. This courtroom language is not accidental, because like the man born blind, our truth, our whole truth, is that we were blind, and now we can see. Because the light of the world came into the world, and God’s mighty works are displayed in us.

But together, the people who are St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church are God’s servant. As a body of witnesses, we are the body of Christ, not each going our own way, but coming together as a servant of our LORD, who’s mighty works are displayed throughout the history we have been given.

Verse 11 of our old testament lesson proclaims “I, I am the LORD, and there is no savior besides me.” This isn’t the word of a god who built a world and then let it spin on without intervention, the same voice that speaks into being things which do not exist, who told Pharaoh to let his people go, comes to earth as a human in Christ Jesus, bringing sight to a man born blind, not as a magic trick, but as a restoration from the darkness he had always known, into the light that he had no way to understand.

Because when you’re born blind, it’s not a return to sight, there’s no memory of what a face or a building looks like, you’re starting from scratch. Going from that kind of darkness to the light that Jesus provides him is an entirely new way of living that doesn’t play by the same rules as your old existence.

The man born blind has a stranger rub spit-mud into his eyes, then sends him to a pool to wash. When he comes out, his old world of darkness is gone, and now he doesn’t fit into his old niche, and there is not a comfortable new role for him to easily slide into.

Because he cannot deny what God has done for him, he is a witness to the one who not only restores sight, but creates it where it had never been before. The man himself testifies to that in verses 31 and 32: We know that God doesn't listen to sinners. God listens to anyone who is devout and does God's will. No one has ever heard of a healing of the eyes of someone born blind. This is what we think we know about God, that if you’re good, you’ll have your prayers answered, and if you’re bad, God won’t give you what you want.

That’s not a description of God, that’s a description of Santa Claus. And after two thousand years of hearing stories of healing the eyes of those born blind, I expect more of my God than a naughty and nice list. After two thousand years of having people want things that are destructive, I expect more of my God than to give me what I want. After two thousand years of having brokenness so apparent in our world I expect more of my God than to just fix my problems. After two thousand years, I expect my God to break forth as a beauteous heavenly light and to usher in the morning. After two thousand years I expect my God to shine in the darkness, because the darkness cannot overcome it.

You, you are the LORD, and there is no savior besides you. And though we were born completely in sin, we would dare to be taught by you, because you are the God who works wonders, even in such broken mediums as the witnesses you have appointed, even in such weak voices as the servant whom you chose.

Because when you’re born in sin, it’s not a return to righteousness, there’s no ability to act in a way that’s fully acceptable in God’s sight, even our best acts are still touched by our brokenness. Going from this kind of darkness to the light that Jesus provides is an entirely new way of living that doesn’t play by the same rules as our old existence.

God works through those who despair to show the depth of the hope we have in Jesus Christ. God works through those who are weak to show the vastness of God’s strength to hold us up. God works through those who are paralyzed by fear to show the heights of God’s faithfulness enacted on our behalf.

Though we are heirs to a broken world, and deserve the consequences of the world in which we live, we are wrapped in the righteousness of Christ, and made fellow heirs to a light that is beyond what we can imagine. That is the action we have witnessed, that we are rescued from our darkness before we even know what it means to be light.

The LORD speaks through Isaiah, From the dawn of time, I am the one. No one can escape my power. I act, and who can undo it?

From the coming of Christ’s light into the world, God is the one who announced, saved, and proclaimed, not some stranger. No one can escape from God’s power to bring light where there was only darkness, when God acts, no one can undo it. We must stand, then, as witnesses of God’s mighty acts, even when we do not know or understand.

The man born blind didn’t understand, no one had ever heard of a healing of the eyes of a man born blind. He didn’t even know what the man who had healed him looked like, it was only after he washed that he was able to see. He didn’t even know if the man who healed him was a sinner. 

But here’s what he did know, that he was blind, and now he saw. Beginning with that simple witness, he was able to affirm that if the man who healed him had not been from God, he couldn’t do this. He moves from the change he sees in himself to making a powerful claim about who his savior was: God, acting through this man who he did not know.

He believes his claim so fervently that he holds onto it even when the leaders of his community cast him out.

Jesus heard they had expelled the man born blind. Finding him, Jesus said, "Do you believe in the Son of Man?”

Jesus hears what has happened to his blind witness, and he doesn’t abandon him, he goes and finds him. He finds him shaken, he finds him questioning his faith, he finds him as abandoned by his community as when he was still blind, he finds him afraid, and weak, and close to despair, and Jesus asks him to give his witness statement once more. Do you, my servant whom I chose, know and believe me and understand that the Son of Man is the one?

He answered, “Who is he, sir? I want to believe in him.”

To the prophet Isaiah, the Lord said I announced, I saved, I proclaimed, not some stranger among you. Because it hasn’t been just two thousand years, God has been active for ten thousand, and the light of the world shining brighter than the sun. From the foundation of the world God has saved and proclaimed and been intimately involved with his witnesses and servant, like a mother who will not forsake her nursing child God speaks comfort to my people Israel. Because even though we may not know Christ while he is doing the work of the Father who sent him, to the prophet Isaiah, the LORD says, I announced, I saved, I proclaimed, not some stranger among you.

And to a man born blind, Jesus says, “You have seen him.”

To a man born blind, who can count on two hands the number of faces he has seen in his life, to a man born blind, who cannot go home and resume his lifestyle of begging because the Son of Man has changed the nature of his existence, to a man born blind who began with an observation and moved to an affirmation that his healer was from God, to a man born blind, Jesus says, “You have seen him. In fact, he is the one speaking with you.”

The man said, “Lord, I believe.” And he worshipped Jesus.

We don’t know what happens to this man after this chapter ends. Perhaps he is restored to his place in the community, perhaps he learns a trade and remembers who’s action he has witnessed. We don’t know if he goes on to start a family, or if he sneaks into another story somewhere later in the bible. After two thousand years, We don’t know how this witness’s testimony changes his life.

We don’t know how God’s intervention in our lives will change the nature of our servanthood. We don’t know what mighty works God will choose to display in us as we act on our visioning process. We don’t know what programs will flourish, or decline, or even what programs we’ll have to say “no” to.

After two thousand years, here’s what we do know: though we were blind, we have eyes, and though we were deaf, we have ears. And we have seen the LORD.

Means and Ends

Perhaps the biggest problem facing the Church today is the assumption that it is an end to be pursued and preserved.

The Church is a means, not an end.

There a lot of debate going on right now about the future of the Church as an institution, some argue that its time has passed into irrelevancy, and it will die. Others are quite hopeful, saying that the church is going to change before our very eyes into something new that will be an agent of faithful change in the world. Still others say that the church stands apart from the rest of culture, willing and able to be a beacon for a different kind of life, even if that means that those who are less faithful will fall away.

This post does not enter into which of those views I think is most accurate. All of those views assume that the Church is a goal, a stronger church, a better church, a more engaged church, some version of church as an end.

The Church is a means, not an end.

The study of "Church," or "ecclesiology," is not a new field, it goes back basically as long as there has been a church. There are plenty of books and articles one can read, plenty of talks one can attend, but I am of the opinion that we need to remember to whom churches belong. (Spoiler Alert!: It's not the Church.)

We belong to God.

Now for any readers out there who are not Presbyterian, Protestant, or even Christian, don't worry, you belong to God too, it's a sovereignty thing. You don't have to be a part of my Church (or any church) to belong to God.

The Church is a means, not an end.

The end is God, to whom we belong. The primary goal of life, according to my faith tradition (read:the right one) is to reveal the magnificence of God and to enjoy him forever. There's your meaning of life, Philosophy Majors. Problem solved, you're welcome. Now, like finding the question to the ultimate answer, we get to figure out exactly how we "glorify God and enjoy him forever."

The Church is a means, not an end.

The Church is one way that people have, for centuries, done exactly that. It is not (gasp) the only way, neither will I claim that it is the best way for each individual, but it has been the best way for billions of people over hundreds of years.

"The Church is to be a community of faith, entrusting itself to God alone, even at the risk of losing its own life."

It's not a political institution, it's not a country club, it's not something that needs to be protected from outside threats. The Church is not an end to be sought, it's a way that we enact the chief end of humanity. As long as people find it a good way (and please hear me, it really is,) to reveal the magnificence of God and enjoy God forever, the rest will fall into place. If it doesn't do that, then perhaps God is doing a new thing in our midst?

The Church is a means, not an end.

Together in the Storm

Together in the Storm from Joseph Taber on Vimeo.

Mark 4:35-41

³⁵Later that day, when evening came, Jesus said to them, “Let’s cross over to the other side of the lake.” ³⁶They left the crowd and took him in the boat just as he was. Other boats followed along.

³⁷Gale-force winds arose, and waves crashed against the boat so that the boat was swamped. ³⁸But Jesus was in the rear of the boat, sleeping on a pillow. They woke him up and said, “Teacher, don’t you care that we’re drowning?”

³⁹He got up and gave orders to the wind, and he said to the lake, “Silence! Be still!” The wind settled down and there was a great calm. ⁴⁰Jesus asked them, “Why are you frightened? Don’t you have faith yet?”

⁴¹Overcome with awe, they said to each other, “Who then is this? Even the wind and the sea obey him!”

This is the Word of the Lord

Thanks be to God.

It’s strange to talk about storms when it’s sunny outside. I can reach back to when I was in youth group and picture a day on the boat out on Lake James, near where I grew up. Picturing myself on a boat is no problem. Dave and Morgan can show you pictures of what the sea of Galilee looks like, so I can imagine being there, but it’s strange to think about a sky darkening, violent winds, torrents of rain and flashes of lightning when we look outside our windows at see birds singing, a lazy haze over the parking lot, and great helping of sunshine.

It’s strange to talk about storms when it’s sunny outside.

We’ve all certainly sat through the kind of great thunderstorm of which Mark speaks in this text, they’re a humbling display of the powers of nature, a place where one sees the hand of God in the majesty of creation.

But outside, it’s a bright sunny day with a high of 93 degrees, and man is it humid. But it doesn’t even really look like rain...

On a day like today it’s easy to keep this story of boats and storms out at arms length, to put it in a particular place in history and let it stay there, I have no doubt that Jesus and his followers sailed into some severe weather that evening on the sea of Galilee. But it’s strange to talk about storms when it’s sunny outside.

We can join Jesus in his Sunday afternoon nap, this story takes place after he’s preached a series of parables, and many preachers will tell you that the Sunday afternoon nap is one of the greatest gifts God has given us in this world, and on this lazy sunny day, we can curl up on a pillow for a great nap, but this storm business just doesn’t fit when it’s sunny outside.

Unless you’re dealing with another kind of storm in your own life. Not the kind of storm they tell you about on the news, where a nice suit and a smiling face report facts and describe computer models, but rather the kind of storm we put on our motivational posters, where it’s just a symbol for all the problems we’ve internalized. The storm has become a cliche, unless you’re in the middle of it.

I wonder if the disciples would have told this story to the people they met after Jesus’s earthly ministry ended. I wonder if they would tell it to the head of household who’s finances have dried up and he isn’t sure how he can provide for his family anymore. I wonder if they would tell this story to the mother holding her sick child. I wonder if they would tell it to the student who felt overwhelmed by all his responsibilities. I wonder if they would tell this story to the teenager who was sure she had disappointed her parents, and wasn’t sure if they would still accept her. I wonder if they told this story to the community in crisis, trying to decide how it would maintain its identity in the face of a world that is changing so quickly, or not quickly enough. I wonder what problems we would lift up that would inspire them to tell this story once again...I wonder...

Because when that’s the kind of storm you’re dealing with, then it’s the sunny day that doesn’t fit anymore, and it’s strange to be out in the sun when your storms are so great that your boat is swamped. When you’re in the storm, it doesn’t matter what the weather is like, you don’t want to have that Sunday afternoon nap on the pillow next to Jesus, you want this man to get up and help keep the boat from sinking.

We can echo the disciples voices: “Teacher, don’t you care that we’re drowning?” Teacher, we know that you’re still present, we know you’re right here in the boat with us. The wisdom of your parables is still ringing in our ears, even though we don’t yet fully understand. You speak and we struggle to hear it over the sounds of the thunder. We want to stand beside you, but the waves are crashing over the sides of the boat and our feet will not stay under us. Why do you choose now to be silent, sleeping in the midst of a storm that is more than we can bear. We need your instruction now, tell us what to do! You’ve told us how to handle our faith, now how do we handle this boat in the midst of a storm?

There’s a saying, “We’re all in the same boat.” It’s meant to convey that we all struggle through things together, but it also removes the particularity of the things with which we are struggling. I don’t know that I buy that the single mother working two jobs has the same struggle as the young man who is targeted by online bullying. The grandfather who struggles to find a place in a world where he and his closest friends are seeing the decline of their minds and bodies is going through something different than the young woman wondering if perhaps she does not love in the same way her friends do.

Perhaps we are not in the same boat. A congregation as diverse as this one and a church as diverse as the PC(USA) is full of people who see the world differently and interpret what they see based on different values. It’s tempting to think that we’re the only ones who are having to deal with all this mess, that somehow no one else can feel the same as we are feeling. No one else will have to face the problems we have. Especially in a world where the expectation is that one must have all the answers, one must have a handle on all of one’s problems, one must not show any kind of weakness or dependence on others. It’s as though it’s alright to ask for help if and only if you don’t need it.

It’s tempting to feel like we are alone out there in our own little boat, facing an impossible storm, especially when it’s sunny outside, and we feel like nothing can bring us back from our self-imposed separation from those we want to love, whom we want to love us. Perhaps we are not in the same boat. But we’re not brought together by some wooden fishing vessel. Our diverse particular little boats are united by Christ, whom we have followed out onto this sea, and into this storm.

And when our particular boats get swamped, Like the disciples in our scripture lesson, we only know that our master seems to be asleep in the back, either unaware or uncaring that this storm into which we’ve sailed is about to end us, and it’s tempting to think that our boats are either in the worst shape or are in the worst part of the storm, and we’ve got to somehow get by on our own.

But when we left the crowd and took God in the boat just as he was, other boats followed along. They heard the same teaching, they’ve seen the same wonders, and though their boats are different, we know that they’re out there, struggling across the stormy sea of Galilee as well, even though they cannot see our boat or be a part of our crew, we can know that no matter what the storm looks like to them, they are crying out to God just as we are: “Lord, don’t you care that we’re drowning?”

I’ve always pictured Jesus, hearing this question in his own boat, groggily getting up, calming the storm, somewhat grumpily saying to his disciples, “Why are you frightened? Don’t you have faith yet?” And immediately going back to his pillow and resuming his great nap.

But Jesus was only riding in one of the boats, the other boats wouldn’t have seen everything that happened. As the wind settled down and a great calm came over the lake, they would have looked at one another, then to the other boats, perhaps just in time to catch a glimpse of Jesus turning toward his disciples, maybe they were close enough to hear what he said to them, maybe they were far enough away to recognize who it had to be, that even the wind and the sea obey him. We don’t get that part of the story.

But we can infer that once they crossed the lake they all reached the same shore, and they mingled with the other crews, and each told their own part of the story, each shared their particular experience, and each saw Jesus through the eyes of those around them.

Although we’re in different boats, we’re all in the same storm. It looks different to each of us, and we experience and understand it differently, but more important than that diverse commonality is that we all see Christ’s hands calming that storm, and bringing us safely to the other side, irrespective of our own fears and faiths, our Lord goes through the great storm with us, and through the great calm after it. We see this Jesus differently, just as we saw the storm differently.

This week begins our three week series of exploring what the Bible says about Love, Marriage, and Sex. We will undoubtably find ourselves in different places on a number of issues these weeks, but we will come together all the same, listening to the voice of the Holy Spirit to surprise us in the midst of our disagreement. We cannot stop listening just because we disagree with one another, because that would refute the power of Christ to bring our little boats together, and to hold them safely as we find different ways of navigating across this sea.

We may not be in the same boat, but we are united in Christ, and our comfort in the storm is that we are not alone even while we are drowning. It’s strange talk about storms when it’s sunny outside, but it’s not the weather than unites us. It’s strange to talk about how sunny it is outside in the midst our internalized turmoil, but the storm cannot pull us apart. We know that our timid faith, such as it is, is in the Christ who holds us all together, no matter what boat we’ve put ourselves in, and no storm can shake our inmost calm while to that great rock we are clinging.

Prayer: Great God, we are in a time when it is easy to put ourselves into categories of for and against, of right and wrong. We live in a world that teaches us to order ourselves according to those with whom we agree, but you taught us that in Christ there is no Jew nor Greek, male or female, slave or free. Our boats are different, but your unifying love for us remains constant. Give us the strength to remember that we are your people, and though we’d rather all of this would settle down, living in the storms is where we can see that even the wind and the sea obey you. Help us to remember that your voice speaks amid the chaos, and that we will reach the shore together, not as identical people, but as a people united in your relentlessly transformative love. In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.