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Sunday June 21, 2009 "Why Are You Afraid?" Mark 4: 35-41 |
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Location: Blogs Brad's BlogBrad's Sermons |
 | | Posted by: Brad Miller | 6/23/2009 9:31 AM | Several years ago Carol and I joined a group for whitewater rafting on the Ocoee River. I had been canoeing several times in my life, usually on some fairly sedate rivers, but I did have some experience with whitewater. But not a lot.
When we arrived at the drop off point, our guide got us all outfitted with life jackets, which I expected, and helmets, which I did not expect. Now, you have to understand to me, helmets mean that something bad can happen and it tends to heighten my fear response.
And that is what happened that day at the Ocoee River. The launch point emptied immediately into our first white water rapids, and as I looked at some of the friends with us, I could see the fear in their eyes that surely was in mine, too. The last thing the guide said to us was, “There is nothing to be afraid of.”
I remember thinking, “Really? Nothing to be afraid of? How about death or dismemberment?”
We arranged ourselves as to where we would sit and shoved off, jumped in the raft and immediately hit the whitewater as the guide yelled instructions. With the water swirling and churning, the whole raft was bucked into the air and Randy, sitting next to me, pitched up and over the edge of the boat smack in the middle of the rapids. Thirty seconds into the trip! Nothing to fear, my foot! As he sailed out of the boat, he had the presence of mind to drop his paddle and grab onto the cord attached to the raft. I held the end of my paddle out to him and in a couple of minutes, we had him back in the boat, soaked through, without a paddle, but none the worse for wear.
Randy’s wife Sally was sitting directly behind me and she gave Randy her paddle and said she would simply ride. The look on her face told it all. Not only was she still reeling from her husband’s close call, but she was terrified of what was to come.
The trip was less eventful the rest of the way, but we still had to deal with some scary rapids. About half way through the trip I realized something. Every time we hit a rapids, Sally would lean forward, wrap her arms around my waist, and hold on for dear life. I was so wrapped up in trying to do what I was supposed to do, I didn’t even notice it at first.
Later on, Sally told me she wasn’t even aware of doing it, she was just doing her best to keep her fear at bay and hold on as best she could. “I was terribly afraid,” she said, “but with someone to hold on to, I knew I was not alone.”
When I see Randy and Sally these days, that incident usually comes up. Randy and I can laugh about it, but Sally’s eyes tell me that she can feel that fear well up in her when ever she thinks about that day.
The guide had told us there was nothing to fear. He was wrong. When you step into an inflatable raft, even with the proper helmet and life jacket, there is still something to fear. Yet, what he told us that day is what lots of people tell us our whole lives: Don’t worry, there is nothing to fear. I must strongly disagree: there are things to fear.
Now, what you fear may not be what I fear, but a healthy fear is not a bad thing. Without fear we would jump into foolish situations and put ourselves at risk. Without fear we would not take the proper precautions to protect ourselves from harm. Without fear we would put ourselves and our families at risk.
There are things to fear. The disciples knew that when Jesus first said, “Let’s go to the other side.” Many of the original 12 disciples were fishermen. They had lived their lives on the Sea of Galilee. They understood it’s power and it’s might. A relatively calm, relatively warm body of water, the Sea of Galilee would take no more than a couple of hours to drive around. But when the winds and weather are just right, the Sea of Galilee can be a treacherous, scary place to be.
Sure, it was a short boat ride to the land of the Gerrisenes, the land we today call the Golan Heights. But not so short that a gathering storm couldn’t wreak havoc on their small boats, which is exactly what happened. Jesus, asleep in the boat, is awakened by the disciples frightened cries and their incredulous questioning: “Don’t you care that we are about to die!”
Calmly he says, “Why are you afraid?” and instructs the wind to cease and the calm to be restored. If the disciples didn’t get it before then, they probably got it now. Huddled together they ask, “Who is this man that even the winds and seas obey him?”
Many people present this as one of the miracles of Jesus. It is pretty miraculous, I’ll give you that. It is a sign that the disciples are able to witness; a sign that is one more piece of the puzzle of just who Jesus is. But I think of this as more of a teaching moment, a moment of pastoral care for the followers of Jesus, and for us today.
This story is a great metaphor for our life’s journeys and our longing for the one who will calm the storms of our life, and most importantly calm us.
There is something really important to notice here: when Jesus is awakened, he doesn’t tell his disciples to buck up; he doesn’t tell them that their fear is not real. For their part, the disciples do not suddenly confront their fear by standing up to the wind and rain, hoping to stare it down. They are not overcome by a burst of courage that allows them to vanquish the storm. They are not able to muster their own resources to confront their fear and the storm.
No, that would be foolish. They are no match for the storm. Their fear is real. So what happens? Jesus calms the storm, and calms them. And our faith in the very real presence of Jesus in our lives can help us to do the same things today. There are things we cannot control. But in those times, we too must turn to the messiah who calms the storms and gives us peace and stillness.
That’s what Jesus provided and that’s what we need every day of our lives: peace and stillness. Time when we let go of our fears, our frustrations and we can simply be alone with our God.
When Jesus spoke of fear to the disciples, we should have some recollection that we have heard this before.
The phrase “do not be afraid” is in a very real way the beginning and the end of the gospel story. It is what the angel Gabriel spoke to Mary when she was informed she was carrying the son of God. It is what the angels spoke to the terrified shepherds in the fields surrounding Bethlehem the night of Jesus’ birth. It is what was told to the women who discovered the empty tomb where Jesus had been laid after his crucifixion.
Every time I read these stories when someone is being told to not be afraid two things jump out at me. First, never do the angels, or Jesus say, “There is nothing to be afraid of.” That would be an insult to our intelligence. The second thing that jumps out at me is what is missing when the phrase “Do not be afraid” is used. The complete sentence should read: “Do not be afraid, because you are not alone.”
That is the heart of the pastoral message: you are not alone. You are ensconced safely within the body of Christ, and within that body, we are called to care for one another, to be with one another, to calm one another, to help navigate against the storms, to know the peace that comes from Christ’s presence.
This past week, I got an e-mail from John Ryland, a former member of this congregation. His wife Mary Lynn was our organist for several years before her retirement. Near the end of her time here, Mary Lynn went through two different bouts with cancer. Those were fearful times for her, for John, for those who love them.
John wrote to ask me to share something with you that Mary Lynn wrote to a friend concerning this congregation. And so, with her permission, I pass it along to you.
In the note, she had forwarded something I wrote to a friend, and was explaining who BCC was to her and John, and these were some of the words she used: “This man was the pastor at the church which literally carried both John and me during my last rounds of chemo. It’s a wonderful, caring congregation. You can see how for us, there will never be another Brookhaven Christian Church…the spirit of the congregation was loving and supportive. Of course, I was the organist and when I was too ill to play services or choir practice, there was always someone there to sub for me. They never docked my pay or criticized. Truly they are God’s people…a rare thing these days.”
I’m not sharing this so we can feel good about ourselves. I’m sharing it because of what John wrote: “Please make sure the congregation receives this. They need to know how important it was for us so they can continue to do the good work they have done in the past.”
This is powerful stuff, and when I received it, I sat, a bit overwhelmed at what the body of Christ can do. As I sat, I remembered back to that time, a difficult time in so many ways. I remember that we did not tell John and Mary Lynn, “You have nothing to be afraid of.” No, through our actions, our prayers and our words we told them, “You are not alone.” And that made all the difference in the world.
This is a pastoral passage, but it is also a call to awareness and action. It is comforting to know that we are not alone; it helps to know that the Jesus who calmed the water is alive and with us when we need to be calmed. It is reassuring to know that there is a community that cares for us when we are in need; it is awe inspiring to know that here and now, in the very real present, the body of Christ is with us…in each other!
And that leads to our charge: it’s not just that we can rely on the body of Christ to be with us when we need peace; we must also realize that we are the body of Christ and we must continue to make our presence known to those who need the storms of their life calmed and a bit of peace brought into their lives. Jesus calmed the storm for the disciples; we must recognize that as the church, we are called to be there for others in their time of fear. Because “you are not alone” are among the most comforting and healing words we can ever speak, or hear.
Our fears are real. But they need not paralyze us. They need not have control over us; they need not own us; because we are not alone.
After Hurricane Katrina, there was a photograph that was in probably every newspaper in the country. It was a photograph of a cemetery in an historic district of New Orleans. The photos show trees toppled, debris scattered everywhere, broken grave stones…but right in the middle of it all is an untouched, unharmed, perfectly maintained statue of Jesus with his arms extended wide, offering a benediction to the chaos. It is an image I think of when I feel overwhelmed by the storms of life and fear starts to well up in me.
As I ponder the image, I can hear the words that calm me and offer me peace: “Do not be afraid; you are not alone.”
Let us pray: Gracious God, thank you for your presence through Jesus Christ, through his body that is the fellowship of all believers. Thank you for the calm that comes with your presence. Empower us to be that calming presence for others, for we know that the peace we can share comes only from you. Calm our fears, and help us to ride out the very real storms in our lives, knowing that you are always with us. In Jesus’ name we ask it. Amen. | | | Permalink | Trackback |
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