When God is Quiet
The Venerable Joan Clark
Mark 4:35-41
Fear is our greatest foe. Fear keeps us from doing the kinds of risky things that may hurt or harm us. But fear also can keep us from fulfilling our potential, from standing up for what’s right, or more importantly, from feeling secure and safe in the world or even in our own skin.
When fear goes into overdrive, all reason, knowledge, and trust go out the window. All we feel is mind-numbing, anxiety-producing, paralyzing terror.
Faith is born out of inner calm. Fear disrupts inner calm. It’s hard to have faith when our trust-meter has flown off the charts.
Remember when you were young, or maybe even today, when you woke up from a particularly heart-stopping nightmare in a cold sweat, heart pounding, hands clammy, a feeling of dread, your mind still in fight-and-flight mode, even upon waking? Or maybe when you’ve gone to one of those dreadfully suspenseful movies, and you’ve sunk down into the theatre seat, peaking at the screen with your fingers over your eyes, terrified out of your wits?
Those are moments when, no matter how strong your faith, your mind is focused on only one thing: fear. Once our bodies hit the panic button, our inner alarms go off, and we are on high alert.
This kind of stress happens today to many people who have suffered through trauma, those with some form of PTSD (which by the way you can have without ever having gone to war, as we now know that many trauma survivors suffer these same or similar symptoms), or those still living in abusive situations. It’s the kind of stress that literally kills people. It causes underlying heart conditions, taxes the immune system, and releases toxins that prey upon the body, often leading to an early death. Yes, fear can kill.
It’s no mistake that people who pray, people who have faith in God or what AA might call a “higher power,” or people who more easily trust and take healthy risks, are healthier, happier, and live longer and more satisfying lives.
This kind of trust or faith in our families, others, our surroundings, ourselves, and in Jesus too is what sustains many of us through difficult circumstances when life throws us curve balls. If fear is a killer, faith is a lifesaver. Faith gives us a steady hand in the midst of turbulent times. It allows our spirits to feel secure even when the boat we are in is rocking and pitching in the choppy sea of culture/society around us. Faith is our chill pill.
In a sense, this is what Jesus does for us as well on an even bigger scale, and we see it today in the scriptures.
Jesus and his disciples are weary after a long day of preaching, so they take to the water for a little reprieve, and Jesus lies down in the boat to nap. Their boat, among others out on the water, at first drifts comfortably through the still water of the Sea of Galilee, a light breeze wafting through their hair, the dusk casting a pink glow onto the glassy surface. It must have been a beautiful evening on the sea. But as the Sea of Galilee could be suddenly volatile and storms could rise up quickly and ferociously, often boats could get unexpectedly tossed and traumatized in the severe tempest, only to have the winds and waves calm down 15 minutes later. Such was life on the sea. It was a terrifying experience when it happened, especially at night. The sea, though beautiful, could also be deadly, and who knew what dangers lay beneath the murky surface?
The scriptures tell us, a “great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion.” So here we are. One of those nasty storms came up quickly, a particularly terrifying one. Winds are pitching the boat into the waves. Water is pouring into the boat. The disciples try valiantly to battle the rising waves, and keep the boat steady, but they fear it will capsize any moment, and the water is filling fast. Meanwhile, Jesus is sleeping through all of this! That in itself is incredible, isn’t it? He must have been exhausted! Or he knows all will be well. But he isn’t moving.
So, the disciples wake him up. They are terrified. They feel worried, insecure, unprotected, and their Lord and Saviour it appears is out of touch. He is asleep! Out of sight and out of mind. Not paying attention to their needs, not focused on their fears.
In the story of course, Jesus wakes, immediately calms the storm, and then asks them that punchline question: “Why are you afraid?” “Don’t you have faith in me?”
Which storm did Jesus calm? Not just the wind and the waves. He calmed the storm within them –that fight and flight, terror in the moment, panic button kind of insecurity that obliterates our inner calm and makes of us a turbulent, irrational mess. That’s what Jesus calms. Our inner spirit.
Jesus commands “Peace! Be still!” “The wind ceased, and there was a dead calm.” Imagine how amazing that must have felt. Eerie, but amazing.
And they are amazed!
We all have these kinds of turbulent moments in life when we are certain that we are in peril and God is not paying attention. We expect God to be there in our every moment, so that we feel the certainty and security we need to live with peace and stillness in our hearts. And when we one day can’t feel God there, or it seems that God is “sleeping on the job,” we begin to panic. We lose our footing. We lose our heads. We lose our confidence. Our faith begins to slip. But just as in the story of Peter whose faith allows him to begin to sink, Jesus reaches out a hand to pull us back up again. Just when we believe he is out of touch, his voice calms our waves and stills our spirits. Repositions our foundation. Restores our faith.
God may appear sometimes to not hear us, to be absent in times when we feel we need God most. When time goes on and things seem out of hand, when the days go long and the storms don’t stop, it can feel sometimes like God is quiet. Or worse, not there. That’s when our faith can begin to slip and terror can set in.
But Jesus is always there in our corner, there in our boat. And just at the moment we are convinced, he isn’t paying attention or does not care, a miracle will occur. Maybe it won’t happen at the exact time we hope it will. Maybe it will look differently than what we thought it would, what we thought might happen, or what we prefer might resolve our pain. But Jesus is always there to still our storms and calm our hearts, to restore our faith, even in the worst of times.
We are living in a tempestuous time in so many different ways. From the pandemic to unemployment, from political unrest to cultural change, sometimes it’s hard for us to see Jesus in the midst of this time. Instead of relying on our faith, on the Holy Spirit to keep us peaceful and still, we continue to try to steady our own boat, scoop out the water from what feels like a sinking ship, and try to return to the shores from which we came instead of moving forward. But listen to the voice of Jesus. He has heard your cries and is speaking to you above the wind and the waves: “Why are you afraid?” “Have you still no faith?”
No matter what is happening around us, no matter what challenges we face or what new horizons look threatening, Jesus is in our corner. Jesus is in our boat. And he will lead us into a place of still waters, a beautiful place, a new place, and an exciting adventure.
Stand up. Face the winds. Enjoy the ride. The Holy Spirit will always guide you. And that is all you need.