![Picture](/uploads/5/3/1/4/53145165/published/fishermen-chennai-digital-edit-2.jpg?1529939514)
Peter JB Carman
Emmanuel Friedens Church
Schenectady New York
June 24 2018
Readings: Acts 16:16-40
Mark 4:35-41
I. Stormy Waters
It seems not long ago! Two days after our wedding, Lynn and I headed for Nova Scotia. We took the overnight ferry out of Portland harbor in Maine, a fairly easy crossing. But the seas between Halifax and Portland were anything but smooth on the return daytime voyage a week or so later. A storm had passed through the night before, and the waves remained mountainous.
The big boat shuddered and lurched and rose and fell as though on a perpetual roller-coaster. I remember that we went for a buffet lunch in the restaurant near the bow of that lovely vessel and tried to eat. A brief experiment. The whole experience of that post-storm crossing made me wonder what it would be like in a real storm. For I could taste fear even in the sunshine crossing from Canada to the US.
Mark’s story about Jesus calming the suddenly deadly waters of an inland sea is also a story about an uncomfortable crossing from one nation to another—the stormy waters are the border place not between Jewish and Pagan people. For early listeners the storm in the gospel story evoked the stormy relations between peoples.
Ask any fisherman. Stormy waters and high winds can arise anywhere, any time. The fear of Jesus’ experienced sailor friends was well founded that night on that inland sea. And there slept Jesus on the best seat in the boat. And yet when roused, Jesus commanded the wind, commanded the water, and a calm came down as great as the storm had been violent. And now their fear was transformed. Who is this who can command even the elements, even the wind and the sea? Who is this that can quiet the chaos taking place in the border crossing?
I hadn’t planned to include the story of Paul and Silas in jail this morning, but it is too relevant a story not to include. It is about another kind of conflictual storm, the storm that rises when truth-telling and healing and the liberation of a slave girl from the spirit that possesses her come face to face with the profiteering of her masters. Paul and Silas aren’t being jailed for what they preach. It’s because in the act of healing, of casting out a demon that has a girl by the throat, they have cut into the profits of unscrupulous men.
After being accused, the two are arrested, severely beaten, thrown in jail. Maybe you remember the old gospel civil rights song: “Paul and Silas, begun to pray, dungeon shook, and the chains fell off—keep your eyes on the prize hold on. Paul and Silas begun to shout, jail doors opened, and they walked out.” That’s the way the story goes. Well that’s just the start. In the longer version, they don’t leave the cell right away. Before it’s done, they’ve spared the life of the jailer and baptized his whole family (See there’s water in this story too.) They also have forced an apology out of the judges who threw them in, a miracle almost as great as Jesus calming the waters.
For those of you who wonder how to make sense of recent remarks by the attorney general of the United States justifying blind obedience to the state based on Paul’s letter to the Romans, a few verses in chapter 13, consider that this is the same Paul who was repeatedly thrown in jail by the Romans he loved, and like the teacher he followed, the same Paul who was martyred at the hands of the empire.
II. In the Boat with Jesus
You and I live in troubling times. We may not know much about sailing, and we may or may not ever have been behind bars, but we know trouble, we have seen storms. We know what fear can be when it gets you by the throat. Trouble.
The trouble in the US/Mexican borderland this past two months has been beyond anything most of us have experienced personally. And the trouble in our collective conscience over the imprisonment of children is a storm of a different kind, one that has not and must not pass until those children are set free and reunited with their families, until the arbitrary detention of immigrants ends.
The circumstances of these times have also created storms in our families, storms in our circles of friends, storms in all kinds of ways. Because the issues have gotten personal. Most of us like to be liked. Most of us are conflict averse.
So, when a friend starts generalizing about people who think or talk like we do, we take it personally. Some of us have even felt a bit persecuted. Let’s be honest.
There in the boat with Jesus, the disciples find themselves sore afraid. The storm is overwhelming. They KNOW storms. And they know that this one can kill them.
There in the jail cell for Christ, after having been beaten and whipped, Paul and Silas must surely know what fear is. They know ACTUAL persecution. That’s why they begin to pray, that’s why they turn to songs for courage. “Mary wore three links of chain, on each link was Jesus’ name. Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on.”
You and I are in the boat with Jesus, too. We are not alone, but in the heart of the storm when the boat is out of control, it is hard to stop and pray. It is hard to step back, and yes, some moments we wonder whether the savior might not be asleep on the job, enjoying a nice nap in the stern, God forgive us.
And so, these are timely stories—because we do need to go to Jesus, in very real ways. In this stormy time of border crossings, in these stormy times that stir the winds of conscience and threaten to break a people, those of us who try to live in the Jesus Way need to turn to him more than ever, place our trust in a savior and sovereign who shows us healing and love and justice, and insists on care for the excluded suffering child—every one.
III. Aim into the Storm
There is one fisherman in our Wednesday evening Bible Study, and he has some evident experience with being on a lake in a terrible storm. So, we asked him for advice on how to deal with the situation… when the boat is in danger of being swamped. Arnie told us that if we let the storm drive us from behind, it could get quite dangerous, out of control. “Sometimes if you head straight into it you can control things, at least a little,” quoth he.
I don’t know firsthand if that is good advice for sailors or not, but I trust Arnie—would trust him in a boat. I am sure of one thing, it is very good advice for Christians. If we be in the same boat as Jesus, or even the same flotilla, heading into the storm is exactly what we need to do today. Now we are not all going to be doing the same things. We each have a role or roles to play. We each have consciences that must be dealt with. But we need to face into the storm. We need not to try to run away, or pretend it isn’t happening.
When it comes to healing and liberation, love and justice, the teachings of Jesus are never easy to live fully. I don’t know about you, but I for one fall short or mess up too frequently.
The path of Jesus is not easy, but it is freeing, lovely and empowering. It is tempting to run before the storm, but it is more faithful to aim into it. From the same gospel that we read of stormy crossings today, we find these words of Jesus to his people (Mark 8:34-37): “He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life?
You and I have chosen the vessel of Christ’s love as our life. Now we need to head the little boats we are privileged to crew—head straight into it, believing with all our hearts that there is life, life abundant, on the other side.
Photo: Fishermen near the beach, Chennai, India 2004
Emmanuel Friedens Church
Schenectady New York
June 24 2018
Readings: Acts 16:16-40
Mark 4:35-41
I. Stormy Waters
It seems not long ago! Two days after our wedding, Lynn and I headed for Nova Scotia. We took the overnight ferry out of Portland harbor in Maine, a fairly easy crossing. But the seas between Halifax and Portland were anything but smooth on the return daytime voyage a week or so later. A storm had passed through the night before, and the waves remained mountainous.
The big boat shuddered and lurched and rose and fell as though on a perpetual roller-coaster. I remember that we went for a buffet lunch in the restaurant near the bow of that lovely vessel and tried to eat. A brief experiment. The whole experience of that post-storm crossing made me wonder what it would be like in a real storm. For I could taste fear even in the sunshine crossing from Canada to the US.
Mark’s story about Jesus calming the suddenly deadly waters of an inland sea is also a story about an uncomfortable crossing from one nation to another—the stormy waters are the border place not between Jewish and Pagan people. For early listeners the storm in the gospel story evoked the stormy relations between peoples.
Ask any fisherman. Stormy waters and high winds can arise anywhere, any time. The fear of Jesus’ experienced sailor friends was well founded that night on that inland sea. And there slept Jesus on the best seat in the boat. And yet when roused, Jesus commanded the wind, commanded the water, and a calm came down as great as the storm had been violent. And now their fear was transformed. Who is this who can command even the elements, even the wind and the sea? Who is this that can quiet the chaos taking place in the border crossing?
I hadn’t planned to include the story of Paul and Silas in jail this morning, but it is too relevant a story not to include. It is about another kind of conflictual storm, the storm that rises when truth-telling and healing and the liberation of a slave girl from the spirit that possesses her come face to face with the profiteering of her masters. Paul and Silas aren’t being jailed for what they preach. It’s because in the act of healing, of casting out a demon that has a girl by the throat, they have cut into the profits of unscrupulous men.
After being accused, the two are arrested, severely beaten, thrown in jail. Maybe you remember the old gospel civil rights song: “Paul and Silas, begun to pray, dungeon shook, and the chains fell off—keep your eyes on the prize hold on. Paul and Silas begun to shout, jail doors opened, and they walked out.” That’s the way the story goes. Well that’s just the start. In the longer version, they don’t leave the cell right away. Before it’s done, they’ve spared the life of the jailer and baptized his whole family (See there’s water in this story too.) They also have forced an apology out of the judges who threw them in, a miracle almost as great as Jesus calming the waters.
For those of you who wonder how to make sense of recent remarks by the attorney general of the United States justifying blind obedience to the state based on Paul’s letter to the Romans, a few verses in chapter 13, consider that this is the same Paul who was repeatedly thrown in jail by the Romans he loved, and like the teacher he followed, the same Paul who was martyred at the hands of the empire.
II. In the Boat with Jesus
You and I live in troubling times. We may not know much about sailing, and we may or may not ever have been behind bars, but we know trouble, we have seen storms. We know what fear can be when it gets you by the throat. Trouble.
The trouble in the US/Mexican borderland this past two months has been beyond anything most of us have experienced personally. And the trouble in our collective conscience over the imprisonment of children is a storm of a different kind, one that has not and must not pass until those children are set free and reunited with their families, until the arbitrary detention of immigrants ends.
The circumstances of these times have also created storms in our families, storms in our circles of friends, storms in all kinds of ways. Because the issues have gotten personal. Most of us like to be liked. Most of us are conflict averse.
So, when a friend starts generalizing about people who think or talk like we do, we take it personally. Some of us have even felt a bit persecuted. Let’s be honest.
There in the boat with Jesus, the disciples find themselves sore afraid. The storm is overwhelming. They KNOW storms. And they know that this one can kill them.
There in the jail cell for Christ, after having been beaten and whipped, Paul and Silas must surely know what fear is. They know ACTUAL persecution. That’s why they begin to pray, that’s why they turn to songs for courage. “Mary wore three links of chain, on each link was Jesus’ name. Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on.”
You and I are in the boat with Jesus, too. We are not alone, but in the heart of the storm when the boat is out of control, it is hard to stop and pray. It is hard to step back, and yes, some moments we wonder whether the savior might not be asleep on the job, enjoying a nice nap in the stern, God forgive us.
And so, these are timely stories—because we do need to go to Jesus, in very real ways. In this stormy time of border crossings, in these stormy times that stir the winds of conscience and threaten to break a people, those of us who try to live in the Jesus Way need to turn to him more than ever, place our trust in a savior and sovereign who shows us healing and love and justice, and insists on care for the excluded suffering child—every one.
III. Aim into the Storm
There is one fisherman in our Wednesday evening Bible Study, and he has some evident experience with being on a lake in a terrible storm. So, we asked him for advice on how to deal with the situation… when the boat is in danger of being swamped. Arnie told us that if we let the storm drive us from behind, it could get quite dangerous, out of control. “Sometimes if you head straight into it you can control things, at least a little,” quoth he.
I don’t know firsthand if that is good advice for sailors or not, but I trust Arnie—would trust him in a boat. I am sure of one thing, it is very good advice for Christians. If we be in the same boat as Jesus, or even the same flotilla, heading into the storm is exactly what we need to do today. Now we are not all going to be doing the same things. We each have a role or roles to play. We each have consciences that must be dealt with. But we need to face into the storm. We need not to try to run away, or pretend it isn’t happening.
When it comes to healing and liberation, love and justice, the teachings of Jesus are never easy to live fully. I don’t know about you, but I for one fall short or mess up too frequently.
The path of Jesus is not easy, but it is freeing, lovely and empowering. It is tempting to run before the storm, but it is more faithful to aim into it. From the same gospel that we read of stormy crossings today, we find these words of Jesus to his people (Mark 8:34-37): “He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life?
You and I have chosen the vessel of Christ’s love as our life. Now we need to head the little boats we are privileged to crew—head straight into it, believing with all our hearts that there is life, life abundant, on the other side.
Photo: Fishermen near the beach, Chennai, India 2004