Tag: Fear

When You Are In a Storm

Mark 4:35-41 begins a section in this gospel in which Jesus and his disciples make six voyages back and forth across the Sea of Galilee. In this way, Mark makes the point that the ministry of Jesus was to both Jews and gentiles. The western side was inhabited by Jews and the eastern side by gentiles.

Growing up, I always thought of the Sea of Galilee as a much larger body of water than it actually is. I remember how surprised I was when I visited Israel for the first time and our tour bus stopped atop a hill overlooking the body of water. I could see the entire thing! It is only thirteen miles from north to south and eight miles from east to west.

It is the lowest freshwater lake on Earth. The Jordan Valley makes a cleft in the earth and in the very center of this cleft is the Sea of Galilee, some 680 feet below sea level. Because of this, the climate is usually very gracious and warm, but to the west of the sea are the mountains and some large gullies. Sometimes the cold wind blows down through these gullies and causes sudden storms. All the great writers who have lived near the Sea of Galilee have experienced these sudden storms and repeatedly reported that at one moment the water can be as still as glass and then almost without warning it can become quite turbulent with enormous waves and high winds.

The scene described in Mark 4:35-41 finds Jesus and his disciples suddenly caught in one of these violent storms. Jesus had just finished preaching and was tired, so he lay down and went to sleep. When the storm arose, the waves threatened to overcome the small boat and the disciples were afraid they were going to be tossed overboard and drowned. When they turned to Jesus, they were amazed to find him asleep. They cried out to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” Jesus then calmly stood up and commanded the waves to be still. The sea became calm and the storm was gone.

Even though the disciples should have recognized who Jesus was by virtue of his command over the wind and sea, they still seem dumbfounded. The text says, “They were filled with great awe and said to one another, ‘Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?’”

Don’t they remind us of ourselves? When we find ourselves in the storms of life, don’t we have similar difficulty in placing our confidence in the One who guards and keeps us? That may be the chief reason the story has been preserved and retold by generation after generation. It contains important spiritual truths and we occasionally need to be reminded of them.

Whenever we are isolated or alienated, we tend to become anxious and desperate.

This was not the first time the disciples had been in a storm. It was not the first time a turbulent sea had threatened to overturn their boat. Why did they react they way they did on this occasion? I believe it was because they felt that Jesus was unconcerned about them. They cried out, “Don’t you care?” And, in the face of their panic and despair, he calmed the angry sea. Of course he cared about them and of course he cares about us.

The storm story shows us that the disciples needed to hear a voice in whom they had confidence.

When Jesus woke up and heard the cries of the disciples, his voice rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” You and I need to learn to listen for, recognize, and trust the voice of the Shepherd and Guardian of our souls who is greater than our greatest fear, mightier than our biggest enemy, and who has the power to issue orders to the storms that threaten us. Our ears are particularly well atuned to other voices, particularly those that raise our anxieties. We want the voice of our Savior to be familiar enough and clear enough to stand out above the rest.

Wherever and whenever Christ is with us, the storms of life grow calm.

I don’t know what is going to come to my life or yours today, but I know that Jesus Christ is with us and that his presence brings peace. As a pastor, I have stood with people in just about every imaginable kind of life experience from remarkable victories to devastating defeats, in moments of joy and in moments of deepest sorrow. Whether it’s been a whirlwind of celebration or a tempest of tragedy, the presence of Jesus Christ calms the storms and brings the peace which passes understanding.

P.S. This text brought this hymn to mind.

June 21, 2012
A Faith for Fathers

The greatest lesson I ever learned about faith, I learned from my Father. I had accidentally sailed a balsa wood glider up onto the roof of our home in Houston. When my Dad came home, instead of getting a ladder and climbing up to retrieve it, he picked me up and boosted me onto the roof so I could get it myself. We lived in a 1950's era "ranch style" house, so the roof wasn't actually that far off the ground, at least to my dad, who was 6' 4" tall. I had never been on the roof before. It was frightening – mostly the getting up.

When I began to express my fear, Dad said, "Don't worry. I won't let you fall." His hands and arms felt strong, his voice was firm and confident. He had been on the roof himself. He believed I would be okay. So, I forgot my fear. My trust in him was stronger than my fears and Dad didn't let me fall.

I found my faith. Through the experience of trusting, I discovered that my Dad was trustworthy.

I have been able to live my life with an abiding faith, often tested by the things that test everybody's faith. It goes back to that glider on the roof, my Dad's strong and loving arms, his reassuring voice, and his dependable promise, "I won't let you fall."

That has made it easier for me to trust my heavenly Father, who promised, "I will never leave you nor forsake you." Earthly parents, though fallible, have a role to play in the formation of faith in their children's lives. In fact, parents are the primary faith-givers. Christian parents' chief evangelical, disciple-making opportunity is with their children.

Even helping a child retrieve a toy stuck on the roof can be an occasion for faith-forming. The world needs dads to give their children a fear-conquering faith. Of course, Moms do it too. But this is Father's Day!

June 17, 2012
Epiphany Through Doubt

The Reverend Ken Kesselus, a colleague in Texas, tells the following story:

Once when a certain preacher launched into a children’s sermon, she was confronted by a visiting child, an eight-year-old friend of a regular member. The boy was new to this church, but was a regular attendee at another congregation that did not have children’s sermons. Nevertheless, the visitor tried his best to follow the line of the preacher’s effort to connect with the children. Attempting to hook the children with something familiar before making her point, the priest asked the children to identify what she would describe. “What is fuzzy and has a long tail?” No response. “What has big teeth and climbs in trees?” Still no response. After she asked, “What jumps around a lot and gathers nuts and hides them?” the visiting boy could stand the silence no longer. He blurted out, “Look, lady, I know the answer is supposed to be ‘Jesus,’ but it sure sounds like a squirrel to me.”

Human beings usually want to give the “right” answer, the answer others expect. The eight-year-old boy had more courage than most of us might have had. He acknowledged what he thought others might want him to say, but he found a way to express his doubt.

Each year on the Second Sunday of Easter, we read the gospel account of St. Thomas the Apostle in which he expresses his own doubt about reports of the Resurrection of Jesus (John 20:19-31). He had not been in the company of the other Apostles when Jesus appeared to them that first Easter. When the others told him they had seen the Risen Savior, he couldn’t believe it. He may have wanted to “go along in order to get along” with the others, but he was compelled to express his doubt. He might have said, “I know the answer is supposed to be that I believe you saw Jesus, but it sure sounds like a ghost to me.”

A week later, Thomas had the opportunity to see for himself and confirm in his own experience that the Risen Christ was not a ghost. But for a period of time, he was skeptical. His questioning and doubting must have been as hard for him as it was for the little boy trying to understand the illustration about the squirrel. Because we too struggle with what may seem clear to others and with accepted norms, we can identify with Thomas and the little boy.

I am grateful to be a part of a Church where it is safe for people to express their doubts and ask their questions and challenge accepted norms. It is a Church where we don’t have to mindlessly accept what seems to be the accepted answer or point of view. It is a Church where it is okay to be doubtful, confused, and skeptical. It is a Church where we can remain in the company of others as we struggle with matters of doubt and faith. It is a Church where from childhood we are encouraged to ask questions and to wonder as we journey toward faith.

The example of Thomas’ honesty and forthrightness fosters hope in us and empowers us in our seasons of doubt. We need that kind of faith community as we wonder where God fits in with harsh and frightening realities of life and death. We need a faith community where we can be encountered by the Risen Christ who can lead us to the truth, just as he led Thomas. In such a community, we can work through our uncertainties and emerge on the other side with an even stronger faith, just as Thomas did.

The story of Thomas affirms that doubt can give way to faith, just as death is overcome by life. It assures us that the God we worship can handle our doubts and fears. It tells us that honesty is necessary in our relationship with God and God’s own people in times of uncertainty as well as in times of confidence.

The Apostles were blessed because they saw the Risen Christ and believed. Their subsequent ministry was to nurture faith among others who had not seen. Jesus said to Thomas, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” The ongoing work of this Church is to continue the ministry of the Apostles and foster the even greater blessing that comes from walking by faith and not by sight. And for every generation of Christians since the first one, if we are honest about it, we have to admit that faith in Jesus Christ requires at least some struggle with doubt.

That’s really what Easter is all about. We are Easter People, traveling together on a marvelous journey toward those faith-filled moments when we discover the Risen One at work in our lives and in our world – moments so profound that we can only exclaim with Thomas, “My Lord and my God.”

P.S. Here's an old hymn based on this gospel passage and sung to a new tune by Marty Haugen.

April 12, 2012
When you see the Light, head toward it!

It was one of the darker nights of the year and I was driving along a road in deep East Texas. The road was one with which I was unfamiliar and full of curves and bends and hills. At about the time I became aware that I had missed a turn somewhere and was headed in the wrong direction, I discovered that I was very low on gasoline. I had gone to far to turn back, but I was frightened to drive on because my engine might stop on that dark and lonely road any moment. I decided to drive on and search for some sign of civilization where there might be fuel and someone to point me in the right direction.

The more I drove, the more concerned I became. Just when I thought my engine was about out of fumes, I saw the glowing red light of an airplane beacon atop some structure in the distance. I felt certain it must be in or near a town with a filling station. If I could get there, I could fill my car with fuel, seek directions, and head on with confidence toward my destination. As I followed the beacon, I came to a road I recognized and managed to coast the last few hundred feet to a gas pump. I filled the tank and I got directions so that I could complete my journey in safety and in peace.

If you've ever experienced something like this, you surely understand how out of control my anxiety was that night. And, you also understand what a welcome sight that beacon was, with its promise of fuel and guidance.

Whenever something like this happens in the course of living – when we are alone, lost, and almost out of resources – we feel frightened, apprehensive, and alone. But then, on the distant horizon there is the bright beacon of God's love, the light of God's grace, the glow of God's promise. We see it through the darkness and our faith draws us forward to a place of peace and security.

John 3:16-17 speaks to us of that beacon of Love Divine. "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him." The Word Made Flesh is for us and with us, wherever we may be!

When the night is dark, when the road is scary and unfamiliar, and when you are running on fumes, look for the Light. Turn to him. Trust his good news to be truly good for you. Let him help you find your way forward as you continue the journey in peace, knowing that you are completely secure in God's immeasurable love!

March 15, 2012
An Autumn Epiphany

This morning I spent time in iChat with a young friend whose world has been turned upside down. A widow at twenty-five, alone in a cold city far from home, she wonders if the long future ahead of her will only bring more disappointment and she questions God's purposes. She would not be normal if she didn't have those fears and doubts. She is too smart to settle for simplistic answers to life's complex riddles. I suggested a wonderful church and a wise woman who is a priest there.

When she was ten years old, someone took a photo of us in front of the Altar of the church where I was her pastor. I've kept it near the chair where I read my paper and say my prayers every morning. If all the prayers I've prayed for her during these fifteen years were deposits in her account, she should have an impressive balance. They are not deposits in that sense, but they are examples of the ways God uses the people in our lives to create intricate, complex structures, systems, and networks to work for our welfare in mysterious ways and at times when we are completely unaware.

Later in the day, I visited a retired priest who is in the hospital. He told me that he had a lot of experience in dealing with the pain of others, but not much in dealing with his own pain. He's been there through the years for so many people and now he needs to lean on us. I pray that God will use us as a source of grace and comfort for him.

Leaving the hospital, I saw a bird's nest carefully attached to the limbs of a tree near the entrance. I've passed it numerous times before but have never noticed it because it was hidden by the leaves of the tree. It is autumn now and the leaves have fallen away, revealing this masterwork anchored there by a pair of birds to make a safe home for their young ones.

Seeing this nest and reflecting on my time with these two friends in need, this thought came to me: Those sturdy gracious structures that nurture and protect our fragile lives are often hidden in verdant times, to be revealed to us only when the sky turns gray, the winds blow cold, and the days grow short.

If the Creator of all things makes such abundant provision for baby birds, how much more is in store for us! We must never forget that by the grace of God there are others who are hidden from our sight but who are quietly working on our behalf, loving us through their prayers and hopes.

October 15, 2009