Where Are You, God?

Psalm 80:1-7 Mark 13:24-37
Rev. Alan Claassen
November 30, 2008

Please pray with me.
"From the cowardice the does not face the truth
From the laziness that accepts half truths
From the arrogance that thinks it knows the whole truth.
Lord, deliver me."

There’s a moment in one of the Winnie the Pooh stories where Piglet is stranded in the middle of a fast flowing river precariously balancing on a plank as he heads for a waterfall. Owl is flying overhead and counsels Piglet to be brave.
Piglet responds, “It’s hard being brave when you are so small.
Imagine a time, remember a time, think of the time you are in right now. Helpless in the face of something that is shaking all your security, feeling small in the face of something much bigger than you are. And you have been praying and finally you feel like saying, like the Psalmist in today’s reading:

Whatsamatta, God! We are in trouble here! Don't you care!
Where are you, God! Can't you hear us!
Say something, God! Wake up! Do something!
God, help us! Save us! Please!
Help me get up, I just need to get up and get through the door.

Do you know the story of the disciples were in a boat with Jesus on the Sea of Galilee. They had started their journey in the evening, so it was dark or getting darker. There is nothing more peaceful than a boat on the water.

It was quiet out there, away from the crowds. The waves slapped against the side of the boat in a steady, soothing rhythm. The oars added their soft cadence.

All in all, it was a wonderful counterpoint to the hustle and bustle of the day. Jesus, sitting on a cushion in the stern, fell asleep. He must have been tired. It had been quite a day.

But then the wind began to blow. That little sea was famous for its sudden storms, and this one came out of nowhere. It blew and it blew, and the waves smashed into the boat. The disciples panicked.

But nobody who has ever been caught in a storm in a small boat, far from shore, will be surprised. There are very few places where one is more helpless and more alone than in a small boat in a storm. The wind blows˜ and the rain falls˜ and the waves smash into the boat. Worse than that, the waves wash into the boat.

The sailor caught in such a storm has much to do:
˜If the boat gets sideways to the waves, the waves will flip it over, so the sailor must keep the boat facing into the waves.

˜The sailor must also bail the water out of the boat. With any luck, the sailor will be able to bail the water out faster than the waves bring it in.

˜And, of course, the sailor must try to stay in the boat. That sounds simple, doesn't it, but it isn't simple at all. Trying to keep one's footing, or even one's seat in a small boat at sea in a storm is a full-time job itself.
Trying to keep your footing during a time of change, controversy, or financial crisis can also be as challenging.

Have you ever been caught in a big storm in a small boat?

Some events in our life make us seem small. Sometimes events in our life can seem like we are out in the middle of a lake or sea and the waves are crashing all around us. It may be an illness, or a loss, or a sense of something left undone. It may be coming face to face with reality that things just aren’t going according to our best-laid plans. We know that “It’s hard being brave when you are so small.”

The disciples, including the fishermen among them, were just as afraid as any of us would be. The fishermen were afraid, because they knew. They knew how much danger they were in.

And through it all, Jesus slept. There he was on his comfortable cushion in the stern of the boat sleeping through everything. How could he sleep! That was pretty amazing in itself. You would have thought that the rough ride would have awakened him. But there he was, fast asleep

That was almost as upsetting to the disciples as the storm. Jesus was their leader, and right now they needed some leadership. They wanted him awake and alert. They wanted him to take command of the situation, to help them to get organized. It was frightening to think that their leader would sleep through such a crisis.

They woke him. They said, "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?" Whatsamatta, Jesus! Don't you see what's happening! Don't you understand the danger we are in! Don't you care! Where are you, Jesus?

We left our homes and our jobs to follow you. We put a lot of our trust in you. Look how great things were going. You were healing people. People were coming to you to hear you preach. All of those people we left back on the shoreline. Now this storm is threatening to kill us all, and you are blissfully asleep in the back of the boat! Wake up! Take charge! Do your job! Save us!

We all feel like that at times, and sometimes we feel like that most of the time.

And yet, part of what this story is about is,
that instead of rushing to communicate our panic to God,
we should allow God to communicate calm to us" (Luccock, 710).

In her book, Two-Part Invention, author, Madeleine L'Engle talks about her husband's illness. They had just learned that it was much worse than they had originally expected. The cancer had spread. He would have to undergo surgery and chemotherapy. The prognosis was uncertain at best. It was one of those moments when we say, "God, help us! Save us! Please!"

Madeleine tells of her devotions on the evening of the day that they received the bad news. She read the Psalm for the day, Psalm 22. It read, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" These are the same words that Jesus cried from the cross.

Of reading that verse on that day she says, "Exquisitely painful timing. The psalmist's words. Jesus' words. I feel anguished. I feel that I have been kicked in the stomach and the wind knocked out of me. My spirit hurts."

And yet she was grateful for those words, because hearing them as they had come from Jesus' mouth made it all right that they had come from her own. "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"

When the disciples woke Jesus, they said, "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?" Jesus didn't answer them directly, but turned instead to the wind and the sea saying, "Peace, be still!"

I believe those words were also meant for the disciples. "Peace, be still!" That was what those disciples needed to hear.

They needed the world around them to be peaceful and still, but they needed even more to be at peace within themselves. When our world is coming unglued, we need to hear Jesus say, "Peace, be still!" As much as we need him to calm the storms around us, we need even more for him to calm the storms within us. "Peace, be still."

We need a prayer and meditation practice that begins and ends our days in the peace of Christ. Instead of rushing to communicate our panic to God, we should allow God to communicate calm to us"

Madeleine L'Engle's husband died. It didn't happen suddenly. She had to watch as he declined day by day, and then he died. She felt empty, and she was full of grief. It was a confusing and terrible time.
Then someone told her a story of an Episcopal Bishop who had lost his wife and child in a tragic accident. The bishop said to his people, "I have been all the way to the bottom.
And I found that it is solid."

In the worst storm of her life, all the way at the bottom of her life, Jesus said to Madeleine L'Engle, "Peace, be still!" And she put down her feet. And it was solid!
Jesus comes to us in the storms of our lives. When the wind and the waves threaten to undo us, we cry, "Do you not care that we are perishing!" And Jesus says to us, "Peace, be still!" He calls us to trust, to put our fear down, to discover that the love of God is solid!
What storm are you in right now? What seems like insurmountable odds against your hard- to-be-brave small self. Turn your eyes for a moment from the storm to the Captain of the vessel. Speak to whomever you choose when you are in prayer, God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, the Big Love, and share what is on your heart.

And then wait for the pause
and hear the call,
"Peace, be still!" And keeping your trust focused on Life that is eternal, put your feet down, and discover that it is solid!


Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote,
The wise person in the storm prays to God,
not for safety from danger,
but for deliverance from fear.
It is the storm within which endangers him,
not the storm without.

There are moments when we pray for a miracle to end the storm. There are many more moments when we pray for the faith and courage that helps us ride the storm, helps us find a way to calm the sea and the wind, to calm the fear and anxiety.

May we in our prayers for this church, in our prayers for one another, and in our prayers for our nation and this planet, face whatever it is that is making us feel small,
not alone,
but with our inner resources,
the resources of one another,
and of course, our connection with the Spirit of the Living God which will guide us through this storm until we reach the other side, safely.
The blessing that comes with the Season of Advent, the source of hope that is burning in the candle that was lit this morning, is that we will see a deeper course of truth opening before us. When we ask God for deliverance a way through the wilderness will be revealed.
When we remember with gratitude, the times when God has already been a source of increasing our courage in our lives, a deeper strength will be made available to us.
When our own way has run it’s course and we cry out, like the Psalmist, “Restore us, O Holy One, let your face shine upon us, teach us to love,” a renewed courage and creativity to do what has to be done will help us find a God’s way through the storm.
Where is God?
Wherever and whenever we let God in.

Amen