I need to warn you today’s question is more serious and more fundamental than many of the questions I’ve raised at the beginning of a homily. But it’s a question each one of us needs to consider during our life as Christians. It’s this: are you moved more by the power of God or by the love of God? Are you influenced more in your actions and reactions by the fact God is the creator and controller of everything in the universe, or by the fact God loves you and wants only the best for you?
Ancient people, the early Israelites, for example, asked the question in a slightly different way. They asked: Why do bad things happen to good people? One answer they gave is in the story they told about Job. You all know the general outline of the story.
● How Job was blessed by God with every good thing – with land, livestock and a happy family.
● How in a strange conversation with Satan, God allowed all that mattered to Job to be taken away by Satan, the adversary.
● How the friends of Job maintained he, himself, must have sinned against God and how Job must admit his sinfulness, since God sends hardship on only the sinful.
● How Job maintained his innocence in all matters and demanded God, himself, tell him why all of these calamities befell him.
● And God’s response which amounted to his saying something to the effect: why do you question God who is all-powerful?
In our first reading for today, we heard part of God’s reply to Job. We heard how God is the one who created the seas and oceans. God is the one who controls their boundaries. Only God can proclaim that the proud waves be stilled. In our gospel reading, we heard the same reference. When Jesus calmed the storm on the Sea of Galilee, his disciples responded with the words: “Who then is this whom even the wind and sea obey?” They were moved by the power of their Master, his power to control the forces of nature, itself.
However, their own question had been preceded by two questions from Jesus, himself. Upon calming the wind and sea, he asked his friends these two questions: “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?” Perhaps, his two questions have even more relevance than the one raised by his disciples.
“Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?” Yes, faith has many forms. Faith is belief without physical proof. Faith is certainty in the face of uncertainty. Faith is required when the unexpected occurs. When bad things happen to good people. We seldom call upon faith when good things happen. Who needs “faith” when you’ve just won a million dollars?
On the other hand, what is our response when there is a sudden storm in our lives? When the unexpected happens? When a relationship suddenly goes sour? When I suffer a loss – a loss of property, a loss of a position, a loss of health, a loss of a loved one. What alternatives do I have? What alternatives did the disciples have that night, in their boat, on the Sea of Galilee?
Yes, several of them were fishermen. They knew sudden storms could appear above the hills surrounding the lake where they sailed. Storms in our lives can be unexpected, unseen, even if they are not unforseen. They can come up suddenly even when we know they are potentially possible. We assume accidents can happen to others, but not to us.
So, yes, one alternative for the fisherman who followed Jesus might have been to have been better prepared. To have refused to go out at night when Jesus requested they sail across the lake as evening drew on. But how did they know this particular storm would swamp their boat that particular night?
Maybe, we, too, could be better prepared so that the “bad things” do not occur. Yet, there are times when we, too, need to sail at night. To take a risk. To go where accidents might happen. What other alternatives existed for those men caught in a sinking boat? Maybe they could have bailed faster! And perhaps, in our own storms of life, we can also bail faster. There are times when we try to work our own way out of the crisis. When we try to go it alone. When we try to bail faster. And, as with those fisherman, our boat still continues to sink.
Or perhaps, like the disciples, we can blame others. After all, they saw Jesus sound asleep while they were doing the bailing; while they were in peril. They said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” When the unexpected happens in our lives, we, too, can say: “God, don’t you care that I am perishing?”
As we know, Jesus did care, he did come to their rescue. He calmed the wind and the sea. And then he asked those penetrating questions: “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?”
Did the disciples error in waking Jesus? Should they have left him sleeping and have had faith God would save them; that God would not allow them to perish? Is this what faith really is – trusting completely in God, without having to ask him for help?
For many people, the answer is a simple one: “yes.” For them, faith is the conviction God will protect them. God will provide for them. Always. And what is the basis for such a faith? Could it be these people have a still more basic belief? A belief God loves them: completely, absolutely, unconditionally. Just as a Father loves his child. After all, this is what Jesus has been telling them. God is Abba, our Father.
All of his stories, all of his teaching, reiterate this basic view. Everything he says about the reign of God, the kingdom of God, focuses on this truth: God loves us. God loves you. It is on this conviction our faith in the goodness of God is founded. However, for some of us, this statement seems too good to be true. Intellectually we know God loves us and cares for us, but in the dark corners of our minds, we wonder if he may, on occasion, be unaware of us – that he is sleeping.
For some of us, we believe we need to wake God up. We need to ask for his help in a time of crisis. It is only in the asking that we feel comfortable he will respond. Only if we ask him to calm the storms in our lives, will they actually be stilled. As some would say: Pray to God and Expect Miracles!
And yes, it’s, also, ok to wake up God! The disciples, close friends and followers of Jesus, felt the need to seek his help, directly. And he did not fail them. He calmed the winds and seas. He did not chastize them for waking him, for calling for his help. He gave it willingly.
And yet, perhaps, it was with a bit of sadness, too, that he calmed the sea. Perhaps, he had hoped their faith, their trust in him and in Abba, would have given them the courage to ride out the storm, knowing the journey may be a rough one, but they would not perish. After all, he is with them. But, in the meantime, he would calm the sea so they could continue their journey to the other side in greater peace and comfort.
Perhaps this is what he hopes for us as well. When the unexpected happens to us, when bad things happen to good people, we have the faith that God does love us and wants only the best for us. We, too, can ride out the storm and reach a safe harbor, knowing this, believing this, trusting in this.
At the same time, we also know we can call upon God, even as we wonder if he is asleep in our tossing boat, in our moment of crisis, and trust he will calm both our inner turmoil and the troubles around us. In the final analysis, let us be moved both by the power of God, our Creator, and by the love of God, our Father, in whom we place our faith.
Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time; June 25, 2006
Job 38:1,8-11; 2 Cor 5;14-17; Mk 4:35-41