Proper: Proper 7
Date: June 21, 2009
Mark 4:35-41
I’ve written a story for this morning and am calling it “Two men caught in a storm.”
Let’s see if perhaps the images of their day can speak to who we are as the people of God in ours. Let’s see if we can hear some bits of truth from God about life around us at this specific time.
It began as a fairly normal day with breakfast with their families, and a few minor errands taken care of before they headed out for the morning’s catch. It takes a lot of work to fish properly in first century Palestine. The boats are large and heavy with only a rudimentary sail, a large rear keel and cumbersome oars for when the wind is poor or the sail is torn. The fishing is done by heaving large throw nets and then drawing them closed under water hoping they have captured some edible varieties of fish. The trick is keeping the fish fresh, alive if possible, in wooden buckets filled with water inside the boat. Fish simply tossed on the bottom of the boat die and begin to decompose quickly in the hot middle eastern sun during an 8 or 10 hour day of fishing. The wooden buckets double as bailing buckets when the boat inevitably takes on water through cracks in the wooden frame or in case of this day when one of those sudden storms blows in from the hot desert just miles away bringing violent winds and thundering rain clouds which have developed over the river which feeds this huge lake, so big that it’s called a sea. No, this is not work done by the faint of heart….especially not on this particular day. Normally our fishermen have two other partners with them, but for reasons they do not know these two never arrived at the boat. It was their job to mend the nets from the tears and tangling that occurred the day before. So our two lone fishermen had EXTRA work to do on this day, fixing, untangling and refolding the nets even before they push that dense and heavy boat off of the shore and out into the water.
The good thing about this sort of fishing is that it is done not far from shore. The fish they seek generally do not gather out in the deep middle part of the large lake, called a sea, but rather feed on smaller baitfish and other small water creatures in the shallower water no more than a hundred yards off from shore. However, there are often days when the fishermen need to sail and row across the deep waters in order to reach better fishing spots on the distant shore of the sea. Such was the case on this day. The two had decided to head out for a spot nearly a half a mile across the center of the sea. The wind was barely blowing, it was only puffing actually – puffing like a mother, when cuddling her child, will playfully and softly blow little puffs of breath into her child’s face, enticing a smile. The wind was barely flapping the sail. So they had to take turns rowing while the other manned the keel.
It was hot, started out sunny, and they were irritated that their partners had not shown up that morning. They remembered they had said something about a teacher who had been in town the day before, and perhaps they were off listening to him. These two cared little about teachers so they hadn’t remembered a thing that the other two had said about him.
As they rowed they fell into a dialogue about the drudgery of their lives. While fishing put food on their tables and fed their families, and the bulk of the catch was sold, providing enough coins for their other needs, they had long sense lost their passion for fishing and even for being on the water. It was rare that they anymore noticed the beauty of this huge lake called a sea. Hardly at all did they notice the shimmering of the sun along the waves, or the many varieties of color brought about by the combinations of water, sun, the sky, the clouds, the surrounding hills, and the trees along the shore. They had forgotten how peaceful the water could be and how different it was working as a fisherman as opposed to selling items at the market with the loud shouts of the marketers, the haggling, the pushing and the shoving. They had forgotten how on the water there was always something new. Some strange new fish caught in their nets, beautiful and awesome sights of nature, and the camaraderie of fellow fishermen. Their lives had become a series of individual moments of boredom and disdain. This is what these two spoke about on this day as they took turn rowing across the center of the lake, they spoke about the drudgery of their lives.
And in that moment, unlike good fishermen and sailors, they did not notice the huge dark towering clouds rolling in behind them. The puffs of wind became longer and sustained. This pleased them, because it meant they could row a little less. But they did not see the storm which was pushing these winds ahead of itself. And almost in an instant, they found their shadows gone. Darkness had come over the water. The ripples made only by their oars were now white caps breaking nearly over the rails of their boat. The hot sun was buried behind rain clouds that were emptying upon them, and the water in the boat instantly became ankle deep. Grabbing the wooden buckets they began to bail, trying desperately to stay ahead of the water falling from the sky and coming up from the sea. The few fish they had already caught and stored in the buckets, were swimming on their sides in the boat. Lighting and thunder crashing all around them, with death like fright they stared into each other’s eyes wondering if today was going to be the day in which it was their families receiving word that their men had drowned.
More wind, more thunder, more lighting, more water….crashing all around them, this was a storm like they had never seen or that any of the old and long retired fishermen had ever bragged about surviving. Was the world ending?? Is this their inevitable fate? To drown like fish in a bucket? All of their natural intuition of sailing and caring for themselves on the water was replaced with doubt, fear – their muscles ceased with anxiety. They had forgotten what they were. Had they forgotten it even before the storm?
Incredibly above the thunder, the pounding of the waves, the shattering sound of the driving rain upon the water and their heads, and over and above their own shouts and screams, they heard other voices hollering and screaming. For a moment they paused and looked around, scanning for another boat, both internally hoping someone was coming to save them. They couldn’t see anything. The darkness and rain had created a shroud around them. But yet again they heard hollering and screams, one of them yelled to the other, “Is it just our own echo?” His partner just stared blankly out into the darkness, water pouring over his face.
And then…
And then what they would spend the rest of their lives telling everyone they could tell, happened. They heard a loud shout - a single voice that bore into and through the pounds of thunder, and lighting, shattering wind and torrential rain. A single voice that claimed authority over nature. And the storm ceased. It was over. The white caps left, the wind began to settle as if that mother was sucking those puffs backwards back into her mouth. The boat bopped gently up and down on soft rolling waves. And they collapsed onto their benches, staring with disbelief at each other.
It was then that they saw the other boat. It looked like it held a dozen or more men.
It began to move towards shore, so these two followed it. They shouted and waved at the other boat. They wanted to know who, or what produced that sound just before the storm ended. Arriving at the shore along side the mysterious boat, they rushed to them.
They were greeted by several men who had the same look of thankfulness and a little bit of lingering fear. But there was one man, whose face was different. And it was this man that changed their lives forever. It was this man that gave them a life that brought about renewal and a capturing again of their passion. It was this man that taught them
what Ireneaus of Lyons came to describe centuries later in the words, “The glory of God is the human person fully alive.”
The glory of God is the human person fully alive. They were changed because of going through the storm and for wrapping their hearts fully around the man with the voice that penetrated all of humanity. AMEN