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Almost Shipwrecked - Anne Alexis Harra
A young girl's laughter. A strong, calm voice. What calms you, reassures you that all will be well, when the storms in life are raging around you? Can you open wide your heart to trust in God?
Sermon for Sunday, June 20, 2021 - The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 7.
Today's readings are:
Job 38:1-11
Psalm 107:1-3, 23-32
2 Corinthians 6:1-13
Mark 4:35-41
Readings may be found on LectionaryPage.net
Transcript:
[Introductory Music]
[Anne Alexis Harra] Almighty and eternal God, you created the winds, the waters, and the beaches. Through your grace your Son Jesus Christ calmed the storm which wreaked havoc in the disciples' lives, though only momentarily. Bestow upon us the knowledge that your presence is with us from age to age, and that Christ Jesus will calm any storm we must face. Amen.
When I was about eight years old, my parents and I took a cruise around the Caribbean. One day, we were scheduled to take an excursion to the tiny island of Anguilla to swim with dolphins. The morning of the excursion, a staff member informed all of us that the waters were a bit rocky. Anybody who wanted to opt out of the tour would receive a refund. My parents looked at each other, uncertain, but decided to press on. They had an eight-year old daughter chomping at the bit to swim with dolphins. Besides, how bad could the waters really be?
When we got into the little [boat] which took us from the sturdy cruise ship to the island, it was immediately clear that the waters were not only turbulent, they were dangerous. Ocean swells fifteen-feet high almost sent this little boat airborne. Had I known then what I know now, I probably would have told Mom and Dad to opt out. Take the refund. It's not worth the photo op. At the tender age of eight, though, I had the childlike innocence of the disciples in the early years of Christ's ministry.
While my parents and the other people on the boat began to turn green with a combination of fear and seasickness, a beautiful thing happened: the little girl sandwiched in between her parents began to giggle. Giggles turned into shrieks of laughter. This boat ride was not dangerous. On the contrary, to my younger self, this was an adventure. A carnival ride, simply part of the fun on the way to meet the dolphins. To this day my parents say it was a gift from God. The sounds of a little girl laughing broke the tension and fear felt by just about everyone else on the boat. Suddenly, the other children were laughing, and then their parents were laughing. We arrived on the island safely, albeit shaken up. Looking back, I believe firmly that this was a gift from the Holy Spirit. Not only did the Spirit grace me with joy and laughter to get through a treacherous situation, but through me the Spirit intervened and we arrived safely.
That harrowing, joyful, Spirit-filled boat ride reminds me of this brief but powerful story in Mark. Jesus was tired after ministering and doing the unending work of herding the disciples. I imagine that Jesus and the disciples boarded the boat and Jesus, like an exhausted parent, promptly fell asleep. While trying to catch up on some sleep, a storm overtook the sea and the boat. It is important to note that at least one-third of the twelve were experienced fishermen. So when Peter, Andrew, John, and James were scared and unsure, let alone Nathanel the bumbling shepherd or Matthew the tax collector, things were looking grim. The disciples sought Jesus' protection, woke him up and asked what is a rather painful question: "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?"
Mark twice writes that Jesus woke up. The first time Jesus woke up one can assume that it was the physical act of being roused awake. We hear "He woke up" immediately after the disciples asked "Do you not care that we are perishing?" Jesus then figuratively wakes up to the fact that the disciples, his adopted family, were in a dangerous situation. As far as we know, there was no little girl on this ship to giggle and dissipate the fear in the air. Instead, there were at least 12 terrified people looking at him while water poured into a boat, faster than they could control. Do you not care that we are perishing? Now aware of the reality that things were going downhill fast, Jesus protected his people.
Mark writes that Jesus rebuked the wind, and he disciplined the sea. "Peace! Be still!" He rebuked the wind. Jesus beat back the winds that were threatening his disciples, his beloved, his children. He put himself in between the life-threatening storm and his children, like a parent will often put himself in between danger and his family. To answer the disciples' prior question, I imagine Jesus' answer was quite simple: "I DO care that you are perishing." Channeling the redeeming and protective love from God the Father, Jesus performed a miracle.
The disciples were terrified of the slow, painful death that is drowning. The antidote to this, obviously, was the calming of the storm. Mark portrays the miracles of Christ as serving a unique purpose: fulfilling human need in order to make disciples and create a sturdy foundation for the future church. In Mark chapter 1, a man is possessed by an impure spirit. Jesus, having none of this, expels the demon from the man. News of this event quickly spreads around Galilee. Just a few verses later, Simon Peter's mother is ill, so she is healed. Jesus was responding to the needs of people around him and creating a following. Establishing trust amongst his followers and the people of Israel to recreate bonds with God was vital to him. Trust, faithfulness, and response to need are all innately Godly. Jesus responds to human need because he is a human. Living among us as one of us, Jesus knew exactly what it was like to suffer and to have need.
After Jesus beat back the storm that threatened his people, there was "a dead calm." We are all familiar with the calm after the storm. Having spent my summers in Rehoboth Beach, I can assure you that there is nothing more eerie than the dead calm on the water after a particularly treacherous storm. Is it safe to go back? There is also nothing more beautiful than that dead calm. Usually the morning after a storm the air is clean and the sun is shining so brightly it looks like diamonds dance on the water.
Picture Jesus and the disciples after the storm and imagine the dead calm around them. What do you see? What do you hear? I can envision the transition from black skies and rough seas to a sunny sky and cool, sweet air. Birds may be chirping tentatively, the disciples may be shaking with residual trauma. Still in this calmness, in an almost pithy tone, Jesus asks them a question: "Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?" He expresses frustration after performing miracles in response to need for the people of Israel, for the gentiles, and for his own friends. They still weren't getting it. At this point, Jesus probably wants to go back to bed.
That is the thing about discipleship and living fully into our lives as baptised Christians. God is here to pull us out of storms, even when our faith is shaken to the core. We all have faced storms in our lives. As I stand here, some of us are in the eye of the storm, some are looking at the storm approaching, and some are coming out of it. How has God been there to beat back the winds which feel like they are going to overtake the boat? This story may be chronologically thousands of years old but it has aged like fine wine. Jesus is here to put himself between the storm and us, today, tomorrow, and always.
In the last sentence of the passage for today, Mark writes that the disciples were filled with "great awe." I have to take a pause, though, and think of all the miraculous times that God has pulled me out of storms, not least of which was the great storm of '05 when I wanted to swim with the dolphins. When I hear that the disciples were filled with "great awe," it dawns on me that I should not scowl. Take heed of St. Paul's closing words to us and to the church in Corinth today: "Open wide your hearts also."
Open wide your hearts for the miracles God bestows upon you. Open wide your hearts for all the times God in Christ will beat back the winds and scream at the waves to be still. Allow yourselves to be embraced by the warm, sometimes tough love of Christ that reminds us that faith connects us to God. Remember that Christ makes us disciples through responding to human need--our human need, our neighbors' needs, the needs of others. We are not alone. We will not drown. Sometimes we find Jesus in the mundane. Sometimes Jesus shows up as an eight-year old girl on a boat to Anguilla who laughs and reminds us that we will weather the storm. Amen.
Permission to podcast/stream the music in this service obtained from One License with license #A-701187. All rights reserved.
Video, photographs, and graphics by the Church of St. Martin-in-the-Fields. Episcopal Church of St. Martin-in-the-Fields, 8000 St. Martin's Lane, Philadelphia, PA 19118. 215.247.7466. https://www.stmartinec.org
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By St. Martin-in-the-FieldsA young girl's laughter. A strong, calm voice. What calms you, reassures you that all will be well, when the storms in life are raging around you? Can you open wide your heart to trust in God?
Sermon for Sunday, June 20, 2021 - The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 7.
Today's readings are:
Job 38:1-11
Psalm 107:1-3, 23-32
2 Corinthians 6:1-13
Mark 4:35-41
Readings may be found on LectionaryPage.net
Transcript:
[Introductory Music]
[Anne Alexis Harra] Almighty and eternal God, you created the winds, the waters, and the beaches. Through your grace your Son Jesus Christ calmed the storm which wreaked havoc in the disciples' lives, though only momentarily. Bestow upon us the knowledge that your presence is with us from age to age, and that Christ Jesus will calm any storm we must face. Amen.
When I was about eight years old, my parents and I took a cruise around the Caribbean. One day, we were scheduled to take an excursion to the tiny island of Anguilla to swim with dolphins. The morning of the excursion, a staff member informed all of us that the waters were a bit rocky. Anybody who wanted to opt out of the tour would receive a refund. My parents looked at each other, uncertain, but decided to press on. They had an eight-year old daughter chomping at the bit to swim with dolphins. Besides, how bad could the waters really be?
When we got into the little [boat] which took us from the sturdy cruise ship to the island, it was immediately clear that the waters were not only turbulent, they were dangerous. Ocean swells fifteen-feet high almost sent this little boat airborne. Had I known then what I know now, I probably would have told Mom and Dad to opt out. Take the refund. It's not worth the photo op. At the tender age of eight, though, I had the childlike innocence of the disciples in the early years of Christ's ministry.
While my parents and the other people on the boat began to turn green with a combination of fear and seasickness, a beautiful thing happened: the little girl sandwiched in between her parents began to giggle. Giggles turned into shrieks of laughter. This boat ride was not dangerous. On the contrary, to my younger self, this was an adventure. A carnival ride, simply part of the fun on the way to meet the dolphins. To this day my parents say it was a gift from God. The sounds of a little girl laughing broke the tension and fear felt by just about everyone else on the boat. Suddenly, the other children were laughing, and then their parents were laughing. We arrived on the island safely, albeit shaken up. Looking back, I believe firmly that this was a gift from the Holy Spirit. Not only did the Spirit grace me with joy and laughter to get through a treacherous situation, but through me the Spirit intervened and we arrived safely.
That harrowing, joyful, Spirit-filled boat ride reminds me of this brief but powerful story in Mark. Jesus was tired after ministering and doing the unending work of herding the disciples. I imagine that Jesus and the disciples boarded the boat and Jesus, like an exhausted parent, promptly fell asleep. While trying to catch up on some sleep, a storm overtook the sea and the boat. It is important to note that at least one-third of the twelve were experienced fishermen. So when Peter, Andrew, John, and James were scared and unsure, let alone Nathanel the bumbling shepherd or Matthew the tax collector, things were looking grim. The disciples sought Jesus' protection, woke him up and asked what is a rather painful question: "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?"
Mark twice writes that Jesus woke up. The first time Jesus woke up one can assume that it was the physical act of being roused awake. We hear "He woke up" immediately after the disciples asked "Do you not care that we are perishing?" Jesus then figuratively wakes up to the fact that the disciples, his adopted family, were in a dangerous situation. As far as we know, there was no little girl on this ship to giggle and dissipate the fear in the air. Instead, there were at least 12 terrified people looking at him while water poured into a boat, faster than they could control. Do you not care that we are perishing? Now aware of the reality that things were going downhill fast, Jesus protected his people.
Mark writes that Jesus rebuked the wind, and he disciplined the sea. "Peace! Be still!" He rebuked the wind. Jesus beat back the winds that were threatening his disciples, his beloved, his children. He put himself in between the life-threatening storm and his children, like a parent will often put himself in between danger and his family. To answer the disciples' prior question, I imagine Jesus' answer was quite simple: "I DO care that you are perishing." Channeling the redeeming and protective love from God the Father, Jesus performed a miracle.
The disciples were terrified of the slow, painful death that is drowning. The antidote to this, obviously, was the calming of the storm. Mark portrays the miracles of Christ as serving a unique purpose: fulfilling human need in order to make disciples and create a sturdy foundation for the future church. In Mark chapter 1, a man is possessed by an impure spirit. Jesus, having none of this, expels the demon from the man. News of this event quickly spreads around Galilee. Just a few verses later, Simon Peter's mother is ill, so she is healed. Jesus was responding to the needs of people around him and creating a following. Establishing trust amongst his followers and the people of Israel to recreate bonds with God was vital to him. Trust, faithfulness, and response to need are all innately Godly. Jesus responds to human need because he is a human. Living among us as one of us, Jesus knew exactly what it was like to suffer and to have need.
After Jesus beat back the storm that threatened his people, there was "a dead calm." We are all familiar with the calm after the storm. Having spent my summers in Rehoboth Beach, I can assure you that there is nothing more eerie than the dead calm on the water after a particularly treacherous storm. Is it safe to go back? There is also nothing more beautiful than that dead calm. Usually the morning after a storm the air is clean and the sun is shining so brightly it looks like diamonds dance on the water.
Picture Jesus and the disciples after the storm and imagine the dead calm around them. What do you see? What do you hear? I can envision the transition from black skies and rough seas to a sunny sky and cool, sweet air. Birds may be chirping tentatively, the disciples may be shaking with residual trauma. Still in this calmness, in an almost pithy tone, Jesus asks them a question: "Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?" He expresses frustration after performing miracles in response to need for the people of Israel, for the gentiles, and for his own friends. They still weren't getting it. At this point, Jesus probably wants to go back to bed.
That is the thing about discipleship and living fully into our lives as baptised Christians. God is here to pull us out of storms, even when our faith is shaken to the core. We all have faced storms in our lives. As I stand here, some of us are in the eye of the storm, some are looking at the storm approaching, and some are coming out of it. How has God been there to beat back the winds which feel like they are going to overtake the boat? This story may be chronologically thousands of years old but it has aged like fine wine. Jesus is here to put himself between the storm and us, today, tomorrow, and always.
In the last sentence of the passage for today, Mark writes that the disciples were filled with "great awe." I have to take a pause, though, and think of all the miraculous times that God has pulled me out of storms, not least of which was the great storm of '05 when I wanted to swim with the dolphins. When I hear that the disciples were filled with "great awe," it dawns on me that I should not scowl. Take heed of St. Paul's closing words to us and to the church in Corinth today: "Open wide your hearts also."
Open wide your hearts for the miracles God bestows upon you. Open wide your hearts for all the times God in Christ will beat back the winds and scream at the waves to be still. Allow yourselves to be embraced by the warm, sometimes tough love of Christ that reminds us that faith connects us to God. Remember that Christ makes us disciples through responding to human need--our human need, our neighbors' needs, the needs of others. We are not alone. We will not drown. Sometimes we find Jesus in the mundane. Sometimes Jesus shows up as an eight-year old girl on a boat to Anguilla who laughs and reminds us that we will weather the storm. Amen.
Permission to podcast/stream the music in this service obtained from One License with license #A-701187. All rights reserved.
Video, photographs, and graphics by the Church of St. Martin-in-the-Fields. Episcopal Church of St. Martin-in-the-Fields, 8000 St. Martin's Lane, Philadelphia, PA 19118. 215.247.7466. https://www.stmartinec.org