Our Gospel lesson for today could start out in typical mystery story style, "It was a dark and stormy night..." But of course apparently it was not so stormy when Jesus suggested, "Let us go across to the other side." Though sailing at night on the Sea of Galilee without electric lights and electronic depth finders and navigational equipment is not recommended, the Sea is really not that wide (about twelve miles), and at least four of the disciples were experienced sailors. They could probably count on seeing dim lights from Capernaum in the north and Tiberias to the south to guide them across. Peter and James and John were all familiar with weather patterns in the Jordan Valley and probably would have warned Jesus if there was a visible threat of storms. It appears that it was clear when they set out and Jesus felt comfortable enough to take a nap. But weather on the Sea of Galilee is unpredictable, even for experienced sailors. The Sea is nestled in hills on both sides. The Jordan Valley is part of the fault that goes all the way south down the east coast of Africa. The valley can act like a funnel to catch winds and turn the normally peaceful lake into a raging sea. It was hard to picture that on the sunny afternoon some years ago when I took a boat from Capernaum to Tiberias. When we were well out in the lake the captain stopped the boat, turned off the engine and suggested that we all be silent for a few minutes of meditation. All we could hear was the quiet lapping of the waves against the boat and the cry of gulls overhead. I'm sure our motor launch was larger than the boat the disciples sailed. We could have made it to shore in minutes if a storm came up, but if you were dependent on sails or oars, it might have been a different matter.

Jesus and the disciples faced that different matter. The storm came in fast. They could no longer depend on shore lights or the stars to guide them, and the boat was in danger of capsizing. It's amazing that Jesus had to be awakened in all this and someone (probably Peter who was always putting things badly) "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?" "Do you not care?" How badly the question missed the mark! The disciples still had much to learn. Jesus ignored the tone of the question and did what was hoped he would do. "He rebuked the wind and said to the sea, 'Peace! Be still!'" Immediately, we are told "The wind ceased and there was a dead calm." Jesus then turned to his followers and asked, "Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?" The disciples got the point. They were "filled with great awe and said to one another, 'Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?'" The point of the story for the disciples and for us is that this one they called teacher was more than a teacher and healer. He was one in whom God was especially present and active, Lord of their lives and Lord of the whole world.

One summer not long ago I experienced some of the terror the disciples felt. My family was spending a week at Cape Cod and I didn't want to waste any opportunities for fishing. So, despite the fact that the rest of the family was going off to town for souvenir hunting and lunch, and despite the fact that the wind was high, I decided to take the boat out by myself for some fishing. The boat and motor were new to me, but I considered myself to be like Peter, an experienced fisherman. The wind was strong, but I hadn't anticipated how strong it would become in a half mile or so when I sailed out from the protection of a stretch of land that shielded our cove from the full force of the wind. The combination of the tide and wind were so strong that I decided I'd better get both anchors out at once and fish right there. But I discovered that the boat was moving out almost as fast as the motor had carried it, despite the anchors, and waves were beginning to carry water into the boat. Then I did what I often do in such circumstances. I panicked! Before I even threw my line out I began to pull in both anchors while trying to start up the motor. When I accomplished this and pointed the boat back, I discovered another alarming thing, that is that the small motor was getting me nowhere, and heading into the waves was bringing more spray into the boat. After another moment of panic I cleared my mind and realized what anyone who had done any sailing would know, that the thing to do was not to fight against wind and waves, but to tack at an angle towards shore. Eventually I made it back, soaked to the skin, but safe. I never thought to rebuke the waves or tell the wind to be still, but I did tell myself to be still, and that was a big help.

I do think, though, that a large part of Jesus' effect on the disciples was to make them still and to realize some safe possibilities in a frightening situation. I recently mentioned this gospel lesson to someone and she said it was one of her favorite passages of scripture - not. I think, because of its miraculous outcome, but because the image of Jesus' calming the storm was one that she found calming to the storm of her own life. "Peace! Be still!" It is important that we Christians learn some way of turning ourselves to that calm center we find in our Lord, whether it be by meditating on a scripture verse, or visualizing Jesus' presence in our lives. It is a way of finding the peace we need to deal with a crisis or to act in more loving and faithful ways than we would normally act. It is one of the reasons we begin prayers be asking "The Lord be with you." and responding, "And also with you."

The Gospel According to St. Mark was put in writing some forty years after Jesus' death and resurrection. Some scholars believe that in setting down the story of Jesus and the Disciples on the lake, St. Mark had in mind the infant church of the first century, a struggling church torn by divisions, persecutions and doubts. Would it survive the storms or sink into oblivion like other unsuccessful efforts to bring in God's Kingdom? For the Gospel writers there was no ground for doubt. The waves and winds would not sink it because God was present in the "boat" of the Church. It is God's creation, God's means to bring healing and salvation. First century Christians, threatened by suffering and martyrdom may have well cried out, "Does not God care?" The gospel response is clear, that suffering and even seeming defeat is no ground for giving up faith. God does care, and he will be victorious, as he was on the Sea of Galilee.

Two thousand years later the waves and the wind of doubt and uncertainly still threaten to sink our fragile boats, institutions ranging from the church and family to human civilization as a whole. In the fifties, with hundreds of atomic warheads aimed at our centers of civilization, many of us feared if human life as we knew it could survive. In the sixties, many predicted the end of the traditional family and other institutions. Today, with General Convention over and a decision made on the election of bishops which fully satisfies neither liberals nor conservatives, many are still wondering if the Episcopal Church will self-destruct as we confront conflicts and divisions. But then we are reminded not to focus on the waves and the winds, the seeming chaos, but on the one who is in the boat with us, and who is faithful. The center of our faith is that God does care! God is not looking on as some disinterested observer of our human foibles, but he is at the heart of our existence as the Creator, Redeemer and Sanctifier. "Peace! Be still!" are words that bring comfort to us in our individual fear and struggles, and bring hope to us as we face up to human life in all its dimensions.