Shake Rattle and Roll

Scriptures:           I Samuel 17: 1, 4-11, 19-26, 32-49    

                              Psalm 107:1-3, 23-32

                              2 Corinthians 6:1-13          Mark 4:35-41

When I was growing up, one of my favorite shows was Gilligan’s Island.  If you watched the show, you know the backstory – the skipper, his first mate Gilligan, a millionaire and his wife, a professor, a movie star, and a farm girl all get on a small boat, the Minnow, for a three hour tour.  As the episodes unfold, we learn that the professor took his entire laboratory and all passengers took their entire wardrobes for this three hour tour, but I digress.  Anyway, “the weather started getting rough, the tiny ship was tossed; if not for the courage of the fearless crew the minnow would be lost, the minnow would be lost…..”  But they washed up on a deserted island and stayed there for several seasons.  Of course, there was a movie made that brought them all home, but I think you can still watch reruns on Vudu and other cable channels, where I have no doubt that they will still be stranded on that island in reruns from now until the trumpet sounds and our Lord returns.

We’re continuing in Mark’s Gospel.  For our past several Sundays, we’ve been listening in as Jesus has taught the crowds in parables, and then explained the parables afterward to his disciples.  But in today’s Gospel, instead of a parable, we get an object lesson, a sort of “show and tell” demonstrating the power of Jesus even over the powers of nature.   Apparently for the early church this was a very important story, because it pops up in Matthew’s and Luke’s gospels as well.   This is also a transitional moment, in which Jesus moves out of the relatively safe territory on his side of the sea to the potentially hostile territory on the other side of the sea, the other side, where the Gentiles lived.

As I’ve said, Jesus had been sitting in a boat on the sea, teaching in parables all day long, and now it was evening.  Jesus said, “Let’s go over to the other side”.  Leaving the crowd, the disciples took Jesus with them in the boat, just as he was.  We don’t necessarily know what that phrase “just as he was” meant – perhaps it meant that he was exhausted, smelly, hadn’t had a chance to freshen up, but they took him across anyway.  And we’re told other boats were present.  While they were crossing, a windstorm blew up, and “the weather started getting rough, the tiny ship was tossed; if not for the courage of the fearless crew the Jesus would be lost….”  Or at least that’s how it looked from the disciples’ viewpoint.  We’re told the boat was already being swamped – they were taking water – and there was Jesus, fast asleep on the cushion.  They start shoving him and yelling, “Teacher, don’t you care that we’re dying out here?”  We’re told that Jesus woke up, told the wind to hush up, told the sea, “Peace, be still”, and the sea came to a dead calm.  Jesus said to the disciples, “Have you still no faith?”  Now, the New Revised Standard Version reads “They were filled with great awe”,  but the Greek actually reads more like “They feared a great fear” – basically, their jaws were left hanging after what they’d just seen.  And the disciples said, “Who is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?”  So, we’re told the disciples were scared when they thought their boat was going under – but they became even more scared after Jesus calmed the sea and they realized the power Jesus commanded.  Isn’t it ironic, dontcha think?

It’s quite a story in its own right.  And no, Pastor Dave isn’t going to try this at home, or the next time I’m down the shore; if a thunderstorm comes up I’m not going to put my hands out and say, “Peace, be still!”  For one thing, the beach patrol might get cranky.  But anyway, as I’d said earlier, this very rough boat ride across the sea was also a transition from ministry in relatively safe Galilee to ministry in Gentile territory.  It was almost as if the powers of darkness revved up this storm in order to keep Jesus in his own territory, rather than invading Gentile territory with the Gospel.  But Jesus prevailed over the sea – as  he would also prevail over the demoniac who lived among the tombs, as he would prevail among some gentile pig farmers whose pigs he sent hurtling over a cliff.   His trip across the sea was a sort of raid on the powers of darkness, in which he overcame them and then returned to his side of the sea.

Our lives are like small boats on water, and sometimes we get caught in storms.  A death in the family, natural disaster,  Illness, unemployment, addiction or other tragedies affecting ourselves or our families, can make our lives shake, rattle and roll.   We can feel the wind spinning our lives around, can feel the waves slamming into our lives, can feel our spirits taking water and starting to sink.  And we cry out to God, “Lord, can’t you see we’re dying down here?!”  But we can take comfort in knowing that indeed God does see, and that we don’t go through the storm alone.  And sooner or later, the storm will subside.

The church is also like a boat.  In fact, the church – the entire worldwide church – has been compared to Noah’s Ark, carrying those inside the ark safely through life.  The worship space of a church – where we’re sitting now – is  known in church architecture as the nave of the church – from the same root as our word navy - and in some churches the ceiling of the church resembles the hull of a ship.  And it’s not always easy inside the ark.  There are people in the ark who work our last nerve…..it’s been said, of those inside Noah’s ark, that they’d never have put up with the stench inside the ark if it weren’t for the wind blowing and the waves beating outside the ark, and it can be like that sometimes in the church as well.  God picks who comes here, and sometimes we wish he’d have chosen differently.

Our congregation in particular is a very small boat.  While to God the wider church may resemble a single ark, to us as church members it feels more like a fleet of ships.  There are the prosperous churches, with large congregations and large financial endowments, with a multi-pastor staff and a dozen or more committees humming along, that seem like battleships confidently riding the ocean and cutting through the waves.   We may feel a bit envious of the ease with which they glide along, although having been a member of larger churches at various times, even they can be a bit like the duck that seemingly glides effortlessly along, but underneath the water line is paddling for its life as fast as it can.

And then there are churches like our own, barely larger than a lifeboat, which gets tossed about wildly by the waves, where the sails constantly need mending, which always seems to be leaking and taking water and where the pastor and lay leaders are seemingly bailing out water as fast as we can.  And our arms are tired.  It feels sometimes like one more building repair, one more act of vandalism or attempted theft, will be the one to send us sinking to the bottom of the sea. And yet, God sees our faithful ministry as well, and somehow, against all odds, we’re still afloat, still carrying our sisters and brothers out of harm’s way to safety. 

In our Gospel reading, the wind and waves went wild when Jesus tried to carry his ministry into new territory, into Gentile territory.  And it may be the same for us, as our congregation attempts new ministries and tries to reach new people.   Even in a storm, a small boat may be relatively safe if it stays in the harbor.  But boats, especially lifeboats, aren’t made to stay in harbor, and the crew of the boat isn’t there just to scrape barnacles.  The voyage toward the ministry to which God calls us may involve choppy waters, may involve some risk.  And yet we serve the One who calms the wind and waves.

Jesus didn’t promise his followers smooth sailing.  Rather, he promised his presence in the storm.  Jesus promised that we wouldn’t go through the storm alone, and asks us to have faith that he can still calm the wind and waves that batter our lives and our life together as Emanuel Church.

“Jesus, Savior, pilot me over life’s tempestuous sea.”  May we continue to look to Jesus as the one who can still the wind and calm the waves, and guide us through life’s storm into safe harbor.  Amen.