Twelfth Sunday

Twelfth Sunday Ordinary
June 25, 2006

"Thus far shall you come but no farther, and here shall your proud waves be stilled!" (Job 38: 1-11). "... the old things have passed away; behold, new things have come." (II Cor 5:14-17). “Why are you so terrified?” (Mark 4: 35-41)

This passage from the end of the story of Job reflects his "conclusion" about where God has been during all of his suffering and losses. After considering all the possible theories, there really is no satisfying explanation for why people seem destined to undergo painful losses and life-threatening situations. Even the oceans with all their apparently limitless power and unpredictability are subject to the surpassing authority of God. The power and "reasons" of the most high are simply beyond us and we attempt to go beyond them to our peril. Life as we know it comes with named and unnamed terrors, and questions unanswered.

Jesus and the disciples are in a small boat together when a violent storm suddenly comes on. There are "other boats" out there with them. Jesus is sleeping peacefully as the boat takes on water and threatens to capsize The disciples are terrified and wake him up wondering why he has not done anything to help save them from drowning in the sea. At Jesus' command, the storm dies down quickly. They are of course impressed with his power. In spite of this miracle however, the disciples continued to encounter other storms throughout their lives. They must have wondered how Jesus could be so apparently unconcerned, sleeping through the storm. He later rebukes them for allowing their terror to get the best of them, their trust sinking beneath the waves. There must be something even more miraculous behind this command of Jesus to calm the storm than simply power over natural forces.

There is no avoiding the fact that we are all on dangerous crossings. We all sail precariously on our oceans of dread. Like ancient mariners we call out reassurances to our shipmates in our own and in other boats across the waves. The times of calm are sweet but fleeting. There is always something anxious "out there" waiting, threatening. We know all of these "somethings" by heart. How will we ever make it through safely? Why is God sleeping when I am in such danger? The real threat is our panic about being swamped beneath our fears and anxieties, about being left behind for dead. The most threatening storms are those of the heart. The spiritual task is to remind ourselves that the Holy Spirit is peacefully there close at hand. Here is where the most miraculous events occur. Jesus, completely possessed of the Spirit of the Most High, invites us into the world of calm, riding the waves of the storm instead of asking God to make them go away. As Paul says, perhaps something new will emerge out of the death of our old ways of life,