In most of our readings today we hear about windstorms. Let's start with the Psalm. Psalm 107 is a poem about a series of catastrophes that people find themselves in: lost out in the desert, locked behind iron bars, near death's door, hungry and thirsty. In the section that we sang today they are out at sea, stuck in a windstorm. In each of these sections of the Psalm, after describing the disaster, God saves the people from whatever danger threatens them. Then the Psalmist says, "Let them give thanks to the Lord for his mercy and the wonders he does for his children."
We get another windstorm out at sea in our Gospel reading. The Disciples and Jesus are crossing the Sea of Galilee and Jesus is napping. This is a good reminder that it is OK to nap. Even the Son of God, the Incarnation of God in this world needs a nap sometimes. While Jesus is asleep a windstorm arises. Locals in the Galilee area say that these windstorms come suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere without any warning. They are quite scary if you happen to be out on the water when they happen. So the Disciples wake Jesus and call to him, "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?" Jesus gets up and stops the storm. "Let them give thanks to the Lord for his mercy and the wonders he does for his children" could easily be sung here as well.
In the windstorms of our lives, whether literal or metaphoric, whether a real windstorm at the Oregon Coast with huge crashing waves, or the windstorm of this pandemic; whether a windstorm bringing a deluge of rain that makes driving on I-5 crazy, or the windstorm of a cancer diagnosis, or a relationship falling apart, or failures at work or school. Whatever disaster befalls us, God is with us, just as Jesus, the Incarnation of God in this world, was with the Disciples on that boat, bringing peace when he said, "Peace. Be still." Jesus calls out to the windstorms that we experience as well. What a beautiful truth that so many of us have experienced,
I remember once in the middle of a terrible downpour with the rain seemingly coming sideways and strong winds, I was driving on the beltline around Washington D.C. The roads were packed, packed so that there were cars everywhere, but not so packed that it slowed traffic down at all. Cars were speeding by me on both sides. Anxiety welled up inside of me. A fear arose as fierce as the rain coming down when suddenly in my mind I heard those ancient words, "O Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy on me." I started praying those words over and over again, "O Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy on me." And though the storm around me didn't calm down, I did. I felt the presence of Jesus with me in that car, and I was still, I was at peace, and the passengers and I made it safely home that night. I knew that truth the Psalmist so profoundly proclaims, "give thanks to the Lord for his mercy and the wonders he does for his children."
The reality, though, is that although it certainly does happen, it doesn't always happen so simply or so easily. Even for the faithful, the windstorms do not always stop. Or when they do, not everyone has survived. We have all experienced moments that we want to cry out, "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?"
Our final windstorm story, which is our first windstorm story today, is from Job. It engages with this complexity. Job has lost pretty much everything, including his children who happened to die in another windstorm at the beginning of the Book. The wind had arisen and collapsed the house they were in. Job has been spending most of the rest of the Book arguing with his friends about why all these bad things happened. Chapter after chapter his friends keep saying some form of, "Job, you must have done something wrong." And Job continually saying, "No. I am innocent." He begs for the opportunity to face God, face to face, to plead his case. That is what happens in today's reading. God comes to Job in a whirlwind. God says to Job, in this multi chapter poem, that it is all very complex. The universe is complex. Some things do not work simply.
The reality is that there are going to be windstorms in life in which the people are not going to be saved from disaster. The windstorm that Job was experiencing will end, but his children still died in another windstorm. The universe is too complex for every windstorm to end without sorrow. Everything is too interconnected, and yet in the midst of those windstorms, the cancer diagnosis that does not have a successful treatment, the relationship that does ultimately fall apart, the mistake that leads to a job loss, we still find God present with us, just as God was present with Job in the windstorm, just as Jesus was present with the Disciples on the Sea of Galilee. For this we can be grateful. The Psalmist is still right, "give thanks to the Lord for his mercy." Even if the windstorms do not end, or the damage is intense, we can still offer our gratitude. God is still present with us in the windstorms of our lives, and Jesus is offering us peace. "Peace. Be still," he called out in the midst of that storm on the Sea of Galilee. Was he crying those words to the storm, or was it to the Disciples? "Peace. Be still," he still calls to our storms and to us. Allow that peace to wash over you in the midst of whatever storm rages in your life, and "give thanks to the Lord for his mercy and the wonders he does for his children."
AMEN
