Voice of the Day: John August Swanson on “The Storm”
I began a painting in March, inspired by Pope Francis’s message in Urbi Et Orbi, “We were caught off guard by an unexpected, turbulent storm. We have realized that we are on the same boat, all of us fragile and disoriented, but at the same time important and needed, all of us called to row together, each of us in need of comforting the other. On this boat are all of us. We cannot go on thinking of ourselves, but only together can we do this.”
The travelers are caught in a raging ocean. Wind blows back their hair, as rain pours down from violent, swirling clouds into churning, dark blue and green waters. A child points to a clearing. Everyone supports each other as they struggle together, moving through the perilous storm.
“We are one people, one family, the human family, and what affects one of us affects us all.” ― John Lewis, Across That Bridge, 2012
Good News: Matthew 14:22-33 CEB
22 Right then, Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go ahead to the other side of the lake while he dismissed the crowds. 23 When he sent them away, he went up onto a mountain by himself to pray. Evening came and he was alone. 24 Meanwhile, the boat, fighting a strong headwind, was being battered by the waves and was already far away from land. 25 Very early in the morning he came to his disciples, walking on the lake. 26 When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified and said, “It’s a ghost!” They were so frightened they screamed.
27 Just then Jesus spoke to them, “Be encouraged! It’s me. Don’t be afraid.”
28 Peter replied, “Lord, if it’s you, order me to come to you on the water.”
29 And Jesus said, “Come.”
Then Peter got out of the boat and was walking on the water toward Jesus. 30 But when Peter saw the strong wind, he became frightened. As he began to sink, he shouted, “Lord, rescue me!”
31 Jesus immediately reached out and grabbed him, saying, “You man of weak faith! Why did you begin to have doubts?” 32 When they got into the boat, the wind settled down.
33 Then those in the boat worshipped Jesus and said, “You must be God’s Son!”
Reflection: “Out of the Boat”
Just last week, a Hawaiian canoe docked in Campbell River on a multi-year voyage around the Pacific Ocean. In times past, canoes like this were guided across the southern Pacific by navigators who read the water and the wind in order to find the land they sought. This knowledge is being revived and used in this visiting canoe and others like it.
Six years ago, 87 canoes carrying indigenous families from throughout North America lined up along the beach at Tyee Spit, paddles up waiting for permission to enter the lands of the Wei Wai Kai and Wei Wai Kum Nations.
And a couple of weeks ago, a beautiful war canoe lingered in the little cove below our house. I was unable to find out what the occasion was, but as it contained a family I am guessing it may have been part of a memorial celebration.
These powerful images are just a few of the many that crowd into my mind as I consider this week’s gospel story of Jesus and the disciples on the stormy water. In boating season on the coast, even a non-boater like myself who seldom steps onto a boat smaller than a ferry cannot escape the centrality of boats in our lifestyle and our consciousness. From our home near the shores of Discovery Passage, we witness the endless summer parade of luxury yachts and cruise ships, commercial fishing boats and tow boats, small recreational fishing boats and whale watching boats, water taxis and the ferry to Quadra Island. It’s amazing to think that Indigenous canoes used to be the only transport on these waters, regularly braving the weather and waves.
We can’t separate our awareness of boats from awareness of water: the water that both carries and threatens our fragile crafts, the water that feeds us and sometimes kills us, the water of sparkling waves and unimaginably dark depths. When we reduce the power of water to pretty scenery or a summer playground, we do so at our peril. Every winter brings news of boats or ships capsized or run aground, every summer we hear of pleasure boaters lost overboard in a careless moment.
For the ancient Hebrew people, a desert people, this was the water they knew: water of river and lake and ocean as a chaotic force, a threat to human life. It was a power opposed to God’s creation, a power that could only be tamed by God. A mountain, on the other hand, was understood to be the meeting place between heaven and earth, a place of encounter with the divine.
And so we find Jesus needing to be alone on the mountaintop to pray, after he has fed the crowds and sent them home, after he has sent the disciples to cross the Sea of Galilee ahead of him. Jesus is already asking a lot of his disciples: a night crossing on a stormy night, across a big lake with no shelter. A few of the disciples are fishermen and familiar with what they are doing, others not so much. And when they are far from land where there is no turning back, they are in trouble in the storm. The waves are high, the wind is against them, they can’t move forward and they can’t turn back. Have you experienced a time like that when you have been out on the water in a storm, in a chaos of howling wind and heaving water, of up and down and lurching stomach, when it crossed your mind that you might not make it? It is a place and time where primal fear takes over. Only our fragile boat protects us from complete disaster.
Into that chaos, across that chaos, walks Jesus. But the disciples, far from taking comfort, are even more frightened by his appearance. They are not sure how to interpret his arrival and they jump to the conclusion that he is a ghost sent by the powers of evil to trick them. But Jesus tells them, “It is I. Don’t be afraid”.
This isn’t enough for Peter. He wants still more confirmation that Jesus is who he says he is. Jesus tells him, “come” and he gets out of the boat and starts walking towards Jesus, but when he notices again how strong the storm is, his fear comes flooding back and he starts to sink. He cries to Jesus to save him, and Jesus reaches out his hand to catch him.
I invite you to pay attention to three things in this unique encounter.
First of all, Peter asked for it. Jesus’ invitation to him to step out of the boat is in response to Peter’s demand for proof that Jesus is there and can protect him.
Secondly, Peter is ok until the danger he finds himself in distracts him from Jesus. His focus on Jesus is what keeps him safe.
It reminds me of a story about a teacher who gave her students an unexpected test. The paper she handed out had a single black dot in the middle of a white page, and she asked the students to write an essay about what they saw on that page. All of the students wrote about the black dot: how big it was, how it got there, its shape, and so on. None of them wrote about the much larger white space surrounding the dot.
In his fear, Peter loses his awareness of God’s love and support surrounding him, God’s love embodied in his beloved teacher Jesus. As he shifts his focus to the danger he is in, the black dot of his fear grows until he loses sight of Jesus and starts to sink. Only a desperate call to Jesus, and Jesus’ saving hand, pulls him back from that fear to safety.
The third thing we notice is that only Peter asks for confirmation of Jesus’ identity, only Peter risks everything, almost loses everything. But Peter’s very human mixture of doubt and faith, desperation and salvation, moves all the disciples from terror to commitment. As Dock Hollingsworth says, “When Jesus begins walking toward the boat, the disciples are terrified. At the end of the story, when they are all back on the boat and the wind has ceased, they worship Jesus. Between their fear and worship is one disciple’s risk and security in the arms of grace…Individuals who risk boldly and move toward the call of Jesus can make a difference in the lives of other believers…Peter had only a little faith, but nobody else got out of that boat.”
As followers of Christ, how does this story invite and challenge us?
In Jesus’ retreat to pray on the mountain, we are invited to keep prayer as a priority in our lives, no matter how busy and overwhelmed we feel by what is going on around us. Find a place and time where you can be with your Creator in thanksgiving and praise, to raise up the needs of your heart and of those around you. Remember Anne Lamott’s three basic prayers: Help! Thanks! Wow!
Next, just as Jesus sent his disciples across the lake ahead of him, Jesus sends us out now to carry his message of good news into the unknown.
But as we hear about the storm that threatens the small boat, we are reminded that on Christ’s mission there will be troubled times.
The worst time for the disciples is the time between saying goodbye to Jesus and seeing him again. It reminds me of that saying, “When one door closes, another door opens, but it’s hell in the hallways.”
It’s definitely been hell in the hallways this summer, almost literally. Fire, flood, and storms have attacked us here in BC and across Canada and the world. The global warming crisis has never been so obvious, the need for change has never been so urgent. It’s hard to know where to start to fix this mess that our species has created.
Sometimes, as now, the hallways are long, dark and twisty as we run through the burning building, but Jesus often appears in unexpected places and times. Responding to his presence and invitation involves commitment and risk. Jesus says “Come” and calls us to step out of the boat, to risk the storm, to move ahead with our focus on him.
And like the disciples, as Jesus calms the storm and the wind we are invited to respond through worship, praising Creator, Christ and Spirit for our ability to sail on. We have come through the worst, over the rough water, and land is in sight. The shore we paddle towards, the goal of all our effort, is the kindom of God, a place of justice and peace and reconciliation, green grass and cool, clear water. Paddles up and let’s get out of the boat with Jesus.
Breton fisherman’s prayer: Dear God, be good to me. The sea is so wide and my boat is so small. Amen.
A Time for Silent Reflection: Who is in the boat with you? Who or what is calling you out of the boat?
