Sermons

Second Sunday before Lent
Sunday 7 February 2010

David Paton-Williams

Readings: Genesis 2 v4b-9, 15-25; Luke 8 v22-25

If anyone goes to the Holy Land the chances are that one of the highlights will be the Sea of Galilee. There are few signs of modern life, few towns, few churches, and so by and large it seems much the same as it did when Jesus walked along its shore.

So it was that Jenny and I, over 20 years ago, spent our "Sabbath rest by Galilee" (as the hymn puts it) with the "calm of hills above". But unfortunately our attempt to recapture the spirit of 1st century Palestine was spoilt when an ice-cream van parked itself 100 yards away and spent the afternoon playing "just one cornetto".

Never mind, the Sea itself remains unchanged. It lies surrounded by hills in a perfect setting. But every now and then the wind is funnelled between the hills and sets up a sudden strong storm on the lake.

And these can, even today, catch out unwary fishermen - just as in our gospel story today.

Jesus is exhausted after a days teaching and soon falls asleep. In the Old Testament we are told that the person who has their trust in God can sleep easily - and Jesus, completely confident in God watching over him, is untroubled by the ever greater pitching and tossing of the boat that threatens to swamp the boat.

How often sleep eludes us - as we toss and turn in bed, troubled by the storm of anxious worries that always seem worse in the long dark hours. We say our prayers, place our concerns in God's hands, but we can find it so hard to leave them there.

We feel much more like the disciples - desperately trying to stay afloat, afraid that we may be drowning.

The disciples certainly worried and with good reason. And yet Jesus just carries on sleeping. "Doesn't he care? Why doesn't he do something? Lord, we're going to drown "

And at last Jesus wakes up and at last the storm abates, and the disciples are utterly amazed. In the Old Testament it is God who is described as the one who can calm storms and bring order out of chaos.

And in this mysterious story the gospel writers present us with their faith that God's power and authority are there for us in Jesus
who calms our inner storms of worry and fear, anger and doubt.

The storms of life break over us. Sometimes they come upon us out of our relationships, our working lives, our health, our bereavements.

Sometimes they come to us from further afield - from our concerns about the way the way society is going, the damage we are doing to the natural world, and the sheer raw power of creation.

Like the Sea of Galilee, the whole of creation, the whole of life, can be at one moment, wonderful, beautiful experience and the next moment it can be a terrifying one.

The creation story of Genesis 2 tells us that mankind is set in the garden of the world to share with God in the work of creation.

The story says to us that we are here to care for the earth, and to have responsibility for our fellow creatures. It tells us that we choose to bite the fruit from the tree of knowledge, and with each bite comes both good and evil.

With our growth in scientific knowledge has come undreamt of wealth and comfort. But it has come at the cost of environmental pollution and destruction and global warming.

Advance in genetic engineering offer both wonderful possibilities for human health and the nightmare of cloned human beings.

We have a responsibility to work with God as co-creators with him, but the tree of the knowledge brings both good and evil consequences for the world.

So whether in our own personal lives, or in our life together as humans, there are so many storms that seem to threaten us.

And we can feel that we are sinking. Rarely to the waves come spaced out to that we can deal with them one at a time. They seem to pile up, and threaten to swamp us.

And in our mixture of fear and anger, faith and doubt, we may cry out "Lord, don't you care, we're going to drown".

And what is our experience? If we were writing this morning's story from our own experience of God how would it end?

Is it that sometimes we find, at last, that our outer storm eventually improves?

Or does at last, our inner storm, eventually being to die down, and we find ourselves better able to handle life?

Is our experience that in the midst of all the storms we face we get glimpses that reminds us that life is still a wonderful and beautiful thing? Do we find a greater trust in God's ultimate goodness and care despite the issues we face?

The experience of our gospel writers was that Jesus was in the boat with them. He doesn't prevent the storms, but he does go through them with us and is trying to help us to learn that we are in God's hands.

That however the storm may be, God is greater. However dark the night may be, God's hand still holds us. That whatever threatens to swamp us, nothing can separate us from his love.

In the midst of storms we do find so often find faith hard, and in that respect we are in the same boat as Peter, James and John.

But it is not our faith that is the most important thing, but simply the knowledge that Jesus is in the boat with us, and that he will bring us through it all to the safe haven of God's kingdom.

© St Edmund's Church, Roundhay