Wow. What an ordeal we've been through with Hurricane Ike. And we are still going through it. We have learned a lot about ourselves these past several days. We've learned to appreciate our neighbors. We've been reminded of our reliance upon electricity for all phases of our lives. And we've been reminded that during the storms of life, Jesus is there. Jesus calms chaos.
And boy, do we have some chaos going these days. We face chaos on the international level. We are afraid we are running out of oil. We are afraid of climate change. We are afraid Iran may develop a nuclear bomb. We are afraid we may lose our retirement savings as stocks gyrate like a pine tree in a hurricane. And we are still trembling from the effects of Hurricane Ike. The world is awash in a sea of fear.
We face chaos on the national level. We are afraid to pull our troops out of Iraq. We are afraid not to pull our troops our of Iraq. We watch Fox News or CNN and it provides a backdrop of fear for our lives. Fear interlaced with meaningless trivia. We read the headlines and tremble with fear. Dozens killed in Pakistan attack. Bush defends US debt rescue plan. Brittany Spears likely going to trial next month. Street clashes erupt in Germany. We are afraid on the national level.
We are afraid on the personal level. We are afraid of being outclassed. We are afraid someone looks better than we do. We are afraid we will get fired and find ourselves living on the street. We are afraid of getting old. We are afraid we are running out of time. We are afraid we will die.
Fear is a natural reaction to our chaotic world. Just when we think things are going our way the bottom falls out, the hurricane hits, the car wreck happens, we lose our job, we lose our health, the list goes on and on. There is an endless list of possibilities for disaster. No wonder we are afraid.
And in the midst of this sea of fear we seek for the steady hand of Jesus. And sometimes, like the disciples who were onboard the boat with Jesus when the storm hit, we find to our consternation that Jesus is not standing where we thought he would be. Instead of being present on the deck, ready for action, Jesus was asleep in the stern of the boat. The disciples were appalled. And afraid. The storm on the sea was more than they could handle. Some of them were experienced fishermen but they had never seen a storm so severe. Even the experienced ones were afraid. They finally located the Master. He was laying on a cushion in the stern of the boat, oblivious to the storm, sound asleep.
We come to Jesus in the midst of our storm only to find him asleep. Taking rest. Oblivious to our concerns. On another level. Out of touch. Even though Jesus may be missing in action in the midst of our personal storms we know how to find him when we need him. We all know how to pray in a crisis. We know how to find Jesus in times of desperation. Like the disciples on the boat in the midst of a storm at night we rummage around in the dark. Probing here. Peaking there. Stumbling. Falling. Waving. Shouting. Looking for Jesus. Seeking him out in the middle of a storm.
Then, thanks be to God, we finally locate Jesus. We are shocked to discover he is asleep. We hate to wake him up. We feel sorry that it seems we only look for him when we are desperate. When our child is sick. When our mother is dying. When we are facing surgery. When we are listening to the howling winds of a hurricane at 2 AM in the morning. Yet we cannot help but wake him up. He is our only hope for survival. So we reluctantly touch his shoulder. "Jesus. Master. Wake up." He doesn't budge. We put our fingers on his shoulder and move them. "Jesus. Get up. We're in a storm." He is still sound asleep. Finally, in desperation we put both hands on his shoulders and shake him and cry, "Jesus. Get up! Help! Help! We're dying here!"
Jesus starts to wake up. He rolls over. He moans, "What?! What?! What do you want?!"
We say, "Jesus, I'm sorry to awaken you but we are about to die at sea. The storm outside is like nothing we've seen before. You're just down here sleeping through it. Don't you even care that we're going down?!"
Jesus rolls over on his hands and knees and stretches himself aright in the tossy turvy boat. He tries to stand up but the boat suddenly pitches to the right and he falls down. So he starts crawling. Crawling across the floor to the hatch that leads to the deck. We watch him and don't know what to do. He shouldn't go up on that deck because he may get thrown overboard. But we want him up there where the trouble is because he is the only one who may be able to handle the situation. Crawling. He makes it to the deck. He climbs up on the wet surface of the rocking deck. It is dark. Other disciples are stumbling around, hanging on, cursing and crying. Not even aware Jesus is now on deck.
Awake now, Jesus speaks to the wind as if it were a dog barking in the night: "Be quiet! Pipe down." And then he addressed the storming sea: "Stop it. Settle down!" The disciples looked out at the wind and sea as if to say, "Yea, take that!" The boat kept rocking from the waves but not as hard. The pitch was not as high. The hurricane force wind immediately became quieter. The deck of the boat slowly rocked from right to left until it stood still. The wind ran out of breath; the sea became smooth as glass.
Jesus reprimanded the disciples: "Why are you such cowards? Don't you have any faith at all?"
They were in absolute awe, staggered. "Who is this, anyway?" they asked. "Wind and sea at his beck and call!"
That's the way it goes. When crisis strikes our memory fails us. When tragedy hits our courage flees. We think this time is not like last time. This time it is different. This time we will not survive. This time the deficit is too high, thinks the Session, we'll never make up the deficit in the church budget before the end of the year. We'll never find someone to replace that church staff member. We're done for now.
But Jesus is still here. He hasn't left us. We may wonder where he is in the midst of a crisis. We will find him if we look. Seek and ye shall find, said Jesus. Knock and the door will be opened unto you.
"Don't bargain with God. Be direct. Ask for what you need. This isn't a cat-and-mouse, hide-and-seek game we're in. If your child asks for bread, do you trick him with sawdust? If he asks for fish, do you scare him with a live snake on his plate? You wouldn't think of such a thing. You're decent to your own children. So don't you think the God who conceived you in love will be even better?" (Matt 7:6-8, MSG)
"Someday after mastering winds, waves, tides and gravity, we shall harness the energies of love," writes Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. "And then, for the second time in the history of the world, humanity will discover fire."
The opposite of fear is not courage. The opposite of fear is love. "My beloved friends, let us continue to love each other since love
comes from God. Everyone who loves is born of God and experiences a relationship with God. The person who refuses to love doesn't know the first thing about God, because God is love—so you can't know him if you don't love." (1 John 4:7-8 MSG)
Let us burn with the love of God. Let us burn with love for one another. We are a community of faith. We take care of another. We reach out to the world in Jesus' name.
I wonder what Jesus' disciples learned from their experience at sea when Jesus calmed the storm. I wonder if in their desperate struggle to keep their boat afloat they learned to appreciate one another in a new ways. They learned that Peter is the best one with the nets. James is reliable in times of danger. He can bring in the sail. John is good with security. He can get the anchor secured and get it overboard in seconds flat when time is of the essence.
You learn a lot about someone when you go through a storm together. You learn you neighbor Doug is good with a chainsaw. He can help you cut down the tree limbs that are broken. You learn your neighbor Margaret is a good cook and she is generous in sharing with you what she cooks on her gas stove when you are hungry and your electric stove is useless. You learn your neighbor Shawn is a hard worker who will climb up on your roof and sweep it off if you are too scared or too feeble to do it yourself. It is truly amazing what we learn about our neighbors during a storm.
I think this community will learn something about us through this storm. I think they will learn that we are a generous people. We are a resilient people. We are an open people. It is so good to have the Bethel Presbyterian Church worship with us today. Thank you, Pastor Ebenezer, and congregation. You remind us today, on this first Sunday of worship after Hurricane Ike, that we need one another and we can rely on one another when the storm hits hard and heavy.
Thanks be to God we have one another to help us through the storm. And thanks be to God we have Jesus to help us, too. He may seem to be asleep when the winds are heavy and the storm is long, but he is still here. Let's wake him. Jesus! We need you here today! We have been through a terrible storm. We are still going through the aftermath. Please, Jesus, come and calm the chaos in our lives, in our church, community, in our city.
When Jesus wakes up a new day will dawn. When Jesus wakes up there will be justice in America. When Jesus wakes up the winds will be breathless. When Jesus wakes up the waters will be still. No storm is too strong for Jesus. No wind is too high. No waves are too wild. Not even Hurricane Ike is too hard for Jesus. The chaos is our lives is not beyond his reach. Jesus calms chaos. Let him calm yours today.
