Yet again, the Lectionary lines up a triptych of powerful stories and images that could engage our attention and fire our imagination for several hours. Rest assured; we are not going to try that this morning!
I am quite a fan of Walter Brueggemann, probably one of today’s greatest exponents of the Hebrew Bible (or Old Testament as we rudely call it!) and it was through reading him that I discovered the power of praying the Psalms. In his book The Psalms and The Life of Faith, he writes “The Psalms function both as acts of prayer themselves and as invitations to other prayers beyond these words.” A little further on he says: “At the source of this prayer tradition, the community found a particular, peculiar spokenness that we still speak: a spokenness that is daring and subversive, attuned to the reality of human hurt, to the splendour of holy power, to the seriousness of moral coherence, and to the possibility of cosmic and personal transformation.”
Let’s just ponder that for a second or two.
We shall see something of this “cosmic and personal transformation” shortly in our look at Luke’s account of Jesus stilling the sea-storm.
So, I have used this wisdom to frame my daily prayer practice, which always begins in the Psalms. For me, personally, I work from Psalm 103, then Psalm 51, and finally Psalm 139. The key, I discovered is to speak truthfully of what is in my heart and mind. Even subversively. Our Father is not shocked by the bluntness of our language either. Quite the opposite; because it suggests authenticity and transparency – with us in ourselves, but also with the Father, Son, and Mothering Spirit.
Most of us here, I imagine, are familiar with both Creation stories presented in Genesis. This second version we have heard is quite challenging, especially concerning the idea of Woman being created out of Man – itself enough to rile the feminist frame of mind and I do understand and sympathise – as well as the thorny matter, these days, of what defines “marriage.” Those, however, are different conversations and for another day.
It was tempting, as I read through all three readings, to have a go at Revelation 4 – if only for the challenge it presents, the trippy images conjured up. (What was John on?! Can we have some, please?) But, out of compassion for you sitting here on a Sunday morning in Sheringham, I am going with the Gospel reading from Luke – because I know you think they are the most accessible portions of scripture to tackle.
Or maybe not! This passage from Luke 8, also related in Matthew 8 and Mark 4, is a bit “out there” isn’t it? I mean, OK, Jesus wants to cross the lake and so commandeers one of the disciple’s boats (Peter and Andrew’s, maybe, or John and James’ – it doesn’t really matter in this instance), and no sooner have they cast off than he falls asleep. With the kind of days he lives, the drain on him of constant healing power flowing out, the noise, the smell and commotion of the crowds who follow him everywhere, who would be surprised?
No less of a surprise should it have been to such experienced seafarers on the Lake (or Sea) of Galilee as these disciples that a sudden, sharp storm or squall should spring upon them. The Lake of Galilee is surrounded by steep mountains with narrow valleys between them that act as wind tunnels through which gales often rush in sudden, strong gusts that quickly whip the water up into a frenzy of frothing, wild waves.
Jesus sleeps soundly on! Who then is this? Afraid and astonished, the disciples don’t seem to know!
“Master, Master; we are about to die!” they scream in frantic fear. This to the man who has been healing the sick, giving sight to the blind, cleansing those awfully unclean lepers, restoring hearing to the deaf AND RAISING THE DEAD (I mean. Come on!) while wowing the crowds with his wit and wisdom, not to mention wooing women enough to enlist their financial as well as ministerial support.
Remember the Psalms I was talking about? In bare-faced panic, the Psalmist expresses his dismay at God: “Wake up! Rise to my defence! Take up my case, my God and my Lord,” he prays in Psalm 35:23. “Wake up, O Lord! Why are You sleeping? Arise! Do not reject us forever,” is the impassioned plea of Psalm 44:23.
The disciples’ screams for help are no less visceral and vital.
So, He rebukes the wind and the waves. As you do! And all is calm. “Who then is this,” the disciples, ask one another, incredulously, “that even the wind and waves obey him?” Who then, indeed!
In the overwhelming presence of primal power, as we see human beings caught in the grip of the forces of nature - and not just any nature – these terrified Israelites were very familiar with tales of seas and oceans as metaphors of the forces of chaos and destruction – both elemental and spiritual. Deep-rooted memories of primordial chaos and the Spirit brooding over the wild waters stir in their guts.
Yet with a word, the Word made flesh stills and silences the storm. The One who spoke, and the earth became, speaks again to tame the unruly elements.
The story leads us to two questions, one that probes the nature of our faith, and one that leads us to consider again the identity of Jesus.
“Where is your faith?” Jesus asks, rhetorically. “Where” as the Amplified Bible inserts here, “is your confidence in me?” Where indeed after all they have already seen and heard! The question is not whether Jesus stilled a storm on a lake, but whether the God who parted the Red Sea to deliver the Israelites and lay a path to freedom, the God who delivers people from bondage, from addiction, from forces - spiritual or material - beyond our control still acts to deliver those who call on the Lord in desperate circumstances today.
Tom Wright notes in his commentary on Luke, “The choice of faith is absolute. Either we trust him or we are left at the mercy of the storm…We will only give the right answer to the question of who Jesus is when we realize that to give it commits us to total trust and obedience.”
The kind of trust and obedience that daily acknowledges, “I am crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I live in the flesh, I live through the faith of the Son of God, who loves me and who gave himself up for me.”
Hallelujah!
Toby Perks