My friends, the readings for this Sunday really call us to consider how strong our faith is, and if we place that faith in our loving God who at times, can feel somewhat, “intangible,” or do we place our faith in the more “tangible” things of this world—people, material possessions, and so on?
The characters in today’s readings from the Old and New Testaments are having this same struggle, so looking at their experiences can perhaps guide our search.
We all know the story of our Old Testament brother Job, which isn’t included in today’s 1st reading, but knowing that story helps us better understand the text that we do have today. Job, as we know has lost all that was important to him in his physical life; wife, children, animals, his health, and at one point, even the respect of his neighbors who couldn’t understand why he would not turn his back on his God who in their minds had caused all of his loss, or if not, certainly didn’t stop it!
In today’s 1st reading a voice rises above the storm, answering Job’s question of where God was in all this turmoil. God’s simple answer to Job is—“I have been with you always!” My friends, our struggles throughout life often call us to this same question—“God, are you there, do you care that I am suffering?”
God’s answer, spelled out to Job in this 1st reading should be taken to heart by us as well—“If I could control the chaos that creation was, I can control and support what is happening to you as well!”
We don’t fully understand why suffering happens in our lives and if truth be told, most of us would just as soon, it pass us by. It is one of those things that we can only see in an unclear way—around the edges, as Paul speaks of in another place.
I always find that looking to our brother Jesus, to see how he reacted to what his life brought, gives me strength to do the same. In his humanity, as his life was ebbing away on the cross, his struggle to keep believing that his God was, “still with him” is expressed so poignantly in the words, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” But through his patience, and his prayer, we know that Jesus’ faith was sustained, as in the end, he could say, “Into your hands God, I commend my spirit.”
With Jesus, as Paul tells the Corinthians in the 2nd reading today, “the old order has passed away…now everything is new!” Jesus was constantly looking at his world, turning things upside-down when needed to insure that everyone had a chance at a full life. He asked and continues to ask today that his followers do more, be more, but at the same time, he doesn’t ask more of us than he is willing to do himself.
I am presently reading a quite, wonderful, new book about Jimmy Carter by Jonathan Alter. The title is, His Very Best: Jimmy Carter, A Life. There came a time for this ex-president, who had always considered himself quite religious, when he was compelled to move to a new place in his religious/spiritual life.
Being from Georgia, he grew up and into manhood during a time in the south when the racism that undergirds our nation was coming to the forefront, demanding justice. Being that Jimmy had many political aspirations, he often straddled the fence, not speaking publicly about what, in his heart, he knew to be wrong—it was often a delicate dance for him even after his faith told him that he couldn’t just “talk,” but had to “walk” what he supposedly believed. Jimmy found the words of a Baptist minister at this point in his life most compelling. The minister asked, “If you were arrested for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict?”
My friends, faith for each of us can be a slippery thing—Paul prayed during his life— “I believe O God, help my unbelief!” Our humanity gets in the way for us just as for the apostles in today’s Gospel from Mark. They are dealing with their life-long nemesis, “the sea” and they are afraid. And to make matters worse, their friend and teacher, Jesus, whom they have seen heal and care for others, is asleep!
It is almost comical to read, even in its seriousness, as Jesus—now awakened by his fearful followers, asks them, “Why were you so frightened?” (Where’s your faith?) I too find myself convicted by Jesus’ question, “Have you no faith?” As we all know, “faith” is most often easier to talk about, than it is, “to have, to act upon, in times of trouble. But then Jesus does, what Jesus always does—he calms, he reassures, he brings peace, and the apostles can only marvel, and hopefully we can too when we are afraid—“who is this that even the wind and sea obey?”
Sister Ilia Delio speaks most beautifully in her book, The Emergent Christ about “this something new” that Jesus is doing in the lives of us humans who are trying to believe. As the “Christ,” Jesus, she says, becomes so much more in our lives, and to so many more than as “Jesus” alone. As the “Christ,” Jesus is basically, big enough to be meaningful to all, showing all human creation how to become all that we were meant to be, and in fact, she calls that, “heaven.”
Jesus, through the calming of the sea, shows his apostles and us a greater truth—no matter what befalls us, with God by our side, we have no need to fear.
And my friends, with that assurance, we can do the good in our world that Jesus did in his, and when we are afraid, especially if it feels like we are standing alone, we must remember that we aren’t—that he is right there with us.
This is the real Eucharistic revelation that needs to happen in our world—that we, each of us becomes “the bread, the body of Christ here, now! Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, our Jewish brother spoke well to the issues of where is religion today—why it is declining, and I will end with his words, which I have shared in the past, but which bear a re-hearing:
It is customary to blame secular science and anti-religious philosophy for the
eclipse of religion in modern society. It would be more honest to blame religion
for its own defeats. Religion declined not because it was refuted, but because it
became irrelevant, dull, oppressive, insipid. When faith is completely replaced by
creed, worship by discipline, love by habit, when the crisis of today is ignored
because of the splendor of the past, when faith becomes an heirloom rather than a
living fountain, when religion speaks only in the name of authority rather than
with the voice of compassion—its message becomes meaningless.
Amen? Amen!