Afloat and Chaos

Fr. Tim Nunez

We join Jesus and his disciples as he has completed a long series of teachings and healing of people with various ailments and conditions. He has established himself with many as a great teacher and miracle worker and they have set off to cross the Sea of Galilee. Among the 12 are several experienced fishermen and they are traveling with a group of boats.

Galilee is actually a big lake. How big? It is big, but not huge. To put it in our context, it’s about 20% bigger than Lake Kissimmee, but less than 1/10th the size of Lake Okeechobee. It is also ringed with hills such that at lake level one would not see a violent storm approaching. Such storms can and do whip up very quickly in that region, and they are very dangerous.

The disciples know how dangerous these storms are. Their boats are built to haul nets into them, so they have low gunwales (or sides), making them more easily swamped by waves. Their fear is not overwrought, but rather well grounded in their skill and experience.

Boats are an example of our greatest attribute, which is the ability to adapt to environments and circumstances. We can’t run very fast. We have rather flimsy hides. We have hair but no really to keep us warm. We don’t have fangs or claws or talons to hunt prey. But we are made, male and female, in the image of God to exercise our capacity to bring order out of chaos, and to adapt and make tools to do it. We can swim, but not very far or fast and not for very long. And so we make boats. A boat’s essential purpose is to keep us out of the water as well as to transport us from one place to another; to fish, dive, swim or just enjoy being out on the water.

But in life we are always out in unprotected waters. When the wind and waves kick up, then our adaptation falls short and we can very suddenly be in a lot of trouble. Water is like the waters of chaos. The boat can serve as a metaphor for all the ways we adapt to provide for our needs and fend off the dangers that life throws at us. It isn’t a matter of if, it is when. And no matter how big and strong our boat may be, chaos will eventually threaten it.

One lesson is clear: when chaos threatens to swamp our boat, remember that Jesus is in our boat. Turn to Him and trust him to calm the storm and see us through. That is really helpful. Those among us who are in such straits right now must turn to him and trust that no matter the issues at hand, he is with you and if you will turn to him, love him and follow him there is nothing, not even death, that can separate you from the love of Jesus Christ.

That is important. If that’s as much as we can grasp today, if that’s as much as we can refresh, to take as comfort and encouragement, we could and should rest in that.

Yet, there are two other issues to consider here. First, even after the wind and sea have calmed, they are still afraid. Afraid of what; of Jesus? Maybe. I’ve read this passage many times and have taken that line to indicate they are stunned at what he just did and what that implies about who he is. But the Greek word we translate here as “afraid” isn’t just fear, it is the word for cowardice. Immediately after Jesus quiets the storm they are acting like cowards.

How often do we, even after having personally experienced the saving love of Jesus Christ, do we fall so easily back into fear? How many times must he show us? There are times we can’t see it and some of us have never personally seen it, but many have and yet still fall back into fear. Some live in fear. Jesus wants us to be so strengthened by our own personal witness, by each other’s witness and by the witness of the saints across history, that we immediately turn to Him, never paralyzed by the moment.

This is Paul’s teaching to the church at Corinth. (1 Corinthians 6:1-13) Now is the acceptable time, now is the day of salvation. Despite all the hardships Paul and his companions have faced, they have persevered and succeeded in their ministry – not only in showing up and sharing the Gospel, but they have been as Christ in their ministry. Despite all the chaos that threatened their “boats,” including afflictions, hardships and calamities, they did not get jaded or cynical, they don’t get calloused. Just as Jesus maintained his calm in the storm, so have they.

And so our second lesson this morning is to remember the ways we have seen Christ alive and active in our own lives and in the lives of others. Such moments are reminders that yes, he is in the boat with us and we are to take courage in that, to not be fearful of the storms when – not if – they come. It’s as if Jesus turns to the tumult of our own hearts and says, “Peace. Be still.”

The other issue that comes up is why God allows such storms in the first place. Jesus could have just placed an order before he went to sleep, “Steady following breeze until we reach the other side.” But the storms come, and we want to know why. If God loves us so much, and there is so much in scripture about reaping the benefits of a good and faithful life, why do the storms hit the good and the faithful as they do?

When we ask this question, we are in good company. When we are looking at those pre-historic texts it is impossible to date them specifically. They persisted as oral traditions for God knows how long before paper and writing came about around 1000 B.C. Scholars think Job is perhaps the oldest book in the Bible. It is certainly older than Judaism. It may be the oldest piece of literature in human history.

To recap the story briefly, it begins this way, “There was once a man in the land of Uz whose name was Job. That man was blameless and upright, one who feared God and turned away from evil.” (Job 1:1) God cites Job as an example of righteousness and Satan says, “Let me at him and he will curse you to your face.” God takes the challenge and allows Satan to wipe out all of Job’s possessions, kill his children and afflict Job with loathsome sores.

Job doesn’t ever curse God. His wife and friends try repeatedly to get Job to confess some hidden sin, but there is none to confess. His wife even tells him eventually to curse God and die. He refuses. But he does want to know why. And this isn’t a petulant “Why me?” He just wants to know why, and he won’t let it go. So perhaps the oldest piece of human literature that we have is asking the hardest question of faith.

Our passage today is essentially the heart of God’s answer to Job. “Who are you to question me? Where were you when I formed the world? I’m God, you’re not.” That may not seem satisfying at first, but the first step of faith is to recognize that there is a God. The second step is to recognize it isn’t you. We don’t know what God knows. Our job is to be faithful, even and especially in the storms.

But we also learn today that Jesus is in the boat with us when those storms arise. And that is enough. That is sufficient to know. There is a shore and he will get us there. Trust in him and do not be afraid. Take courage in that and do not fall into fear or cowardice.

AMEN!