Do We Trust Enough to Go to the Other Side? Job 38:1-11, 16-18, 2 Corinthians 5:14-21, Mark 4:35-41 June 25, 2006, Year B, Proper 7 The Rev. William V. Livingston, Rector Church of the Resurrection, Starkville, Mississippi“ Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge? Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing? An Old Testament verse with God addressing humans, a Gospel verse with humans addressing God, but both ask us the same question: Is our faith one that confesses we might not know all there is to know and in that unknowing, we still trust God? Allow me to digress very briefly into a teaching about the lectionary readings we hear each Sunday. Each of the readings is selected because its message in some way connects with the season of the church year being observed. Each of our church seasons save one is built around the life of Jesus: Advent – his second coming; Christmas – his birth; Epiphany – the coming of the magi and Jesus being recognized by the whole world; Lent – his time in the wilderness and the Passion; and Easter – his resurrection. The Season of Pentecost, the longest season, while using his teachings and events of his earthly ministry is about discipleship. Thus, more than in other seasons, during the weeks of Pentecost known as Ordinary Time, we are to delve into the readings, and we are to find ourselves. And so today, we are invited to delve into our relationship with the Triune God: the God who created and restores everything that is, the God who loved us enough to take on our flesh to show us our human potential, the God who lives within us calling us into a deeper relationship with the source of our life. However, as I say when teaching about prayer, if how we pray reflects our theology, our theology is that God is asleep, and we have to wake God so that we can tell God what he should be doing. If we step back and honestly look at how we often pray, it goes something like this: “Hey God, wake up. In case you haven’t noticed it, I need for you to take care of my bills, get rid of this pain in my back, make sure my wife sees the error of her ways and quits nagging me. So, let’s get to it. And, oh yea, while you’re at it, you might as well take care of some poor folks. Thanks. Amen” These texts are our stories because we modern day disciples also experience storms – storms in our lives. Thrown out of work, faced with an unexpected and frightening medical diagnosis, struggling with financial pressures, caught in a relationship which seems to be deteriorating and going no where, or a phone call that comes and all of a sudden the heart leaps in pain and anguish, and we cry out in spite of ourselves, "Lord, can’t you see what’s happening to me? Don’t you care if I drown?" We live in a storm center and the storms strike so suddenly. They can bring us to our knees, which can be a praying-place or a fleeing-place. Fear can evict faith from our heart. When this happens we succumb and death wins. We get swamped. In the midst of such storms, in the midst of our fears, we may even wonder if we’ve been duped, that maybe there is no God after all. Or, if God exists, then God must not care enough about our situation to do something about it. We may search for a bright side somewhere, but the waves of trouble, heartache, and pain sweep over our souls. If the despair overwhelms our false sense of optimism, we reach for a quick fix: a pill, a drink, sex, food, or some ego stroking mechanism. Jesus asked, "Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?" Yes, there are many times in the storms of life that we have no faith. At such times, prayer does not resolve our fears, but our fears can become our prayer. The storms do not abate when we fall on our knees or face or backside. There are times that merely repeating the confession that Jesus is Son of God means little if Jesus does not represent God for us. So here we are, June 25, 2006, and Jesus says to us, “Let us go across to the other side.” Going to the other side is always part of discipleship. Sure, we’d like to prop our feet up and watch a little television, read that book we’ve had on the night stand for the last three weeks, congratulate ourselves for a successful Vacation Bible School, take pride for our outstanding job as choir member, Christian education teacher, Vestry member, Warden, priest. But, discipleship says, we go to the other side of the waters of our baptisms. We go to where the Good News has not been heard, where Christ’s presence is needed, where the loving hand of God can feed the hungry and clothe the naked. Each of us knows where the “other side” is in our home, in our parish, in our community, in our diocese, in our world. Faith, however, does not mean we won’t have storms. To journey with Jesus to the other side is not to insure or insulate ourselves against the trials that we might otherwise face. On the contrary, it will be a journey through storms, not around them, and our fear and anxiety will be real. It means we know where the potential of storm is highest, and we trust God even in the midst of the storms. Faith is all about going to the other side especially when I know the odds are against me. It is about going to the other side when I know that a storm is more than unavoidable; it’s a given. Faith is knowing the odds are against me and going anyway. Faith is having times in our lives where trusting God means that we can take naps in a stormy boat. Faith is accepting that sometimes we may need to convey the fact that we don't have to worry about driving out the evil that is all around me. We can act like little children resting comfortably in their parent's protective arms. Our readings for this the 25th of June, 2006, the second Sunday of Pentecost, these readings ask us about our relationship with the Triune God. They invite us to go across to the other side. In them, we’ll find ourselves. We’re nudging the resting Jesus, “Teacher, don’t you care that the Episcopal Church just elected a woman Presiding Bishop? Don’t you care that General Convention went way too far in being conciliatory to the fundamental fanatics of the global South or not near far enough to keep the broader Anglican Communion from kicking us out (You name your own anxiety). Don’t you care that all this is going on and we won’t even have a rector who will keep us from drowning in our own frustrations? Do you not care we are perishing?” If we’ll listen, from out of our texts for today a booming voice still calls Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge? Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. In the midst of our fear, a voice still commands. “Peace! Be still!” That voice also asks, "Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?" We are left with the same question as the disciples: “Who is this that even the wind and sea obey him?” That same question persists among us today. Who is this Jesus of Nazareth? Can he calm the wind and seas in our hearts and minds? Can he calm the storms within our partisan divided nation? Can he bring peace between warring nations? Can he bring a splintered church together at His Table? How about it, will we take things into our own hands, will we do nothing. Or, will we be still; will we join with companions who have experienced their own storms of faith but are living that faith within the waters of their baptisms, within the waves of fears and doubts as we make our way to the other side? This, the second Sunday of Pentecost our texts ask us, “Is our faith one that confesses we might not know all there is to know and in that unknowing, we still trust God?” These texts are not about denying the waves lap against the side of our boat, that the wind and rain pelt against our face, that it feels as if we might be swamped. These are real feelings. The disciples had these fears. We will have these fears. Our texts remind us of that. However, our texts also remind us that in the midst of that storm, a voice still commands, “Peace! Be still!” Now, it is time. Let us go across to the other side.