Proper 20A: Manna and Cod Liver Oil

457px-Gathering_of_the_MannaOLD TESTAMENT: Exodus 16: 2-15

To read the Old Testament Lectionary passage, click here

The passage begins with a typical scenario. Things are not going well. Discomfort and now even fear has set in. The Israelites are convinced that Moses has led them not to the Promised Land but to despair. “Surely we are all going to die out here in this desolate wilderness!…And it’s all Moses’ fault!” Boy, how quickly things turn. Last week, they were celebrating that they had traversed the Red Sea and lived to tell the tale. They could taste freedom. But now they’re out in the desert and things are not what they envisioned they would be. It’s hot; it’s dangerous; and there is nothing to eat. They were convinced that they were going to starve to death. And so they blame their leader. If only…it is a familiar tone. In fact, it’s a pattern in the Bible and in life. (Chaos–Grumbling–Deliverance…) How quickly we forget! What happened to the initial excitement of actually being released from slavery? What happened to the exhilaration of being set free? (What happened to that excitement after the Resurrection when that tiny band of Jesus’ followers began to increase its numbers by multipliers that we can only imagine?)

But God steps in, promising that bread will rain from heaven. The Lord will provide. But there are specific instructions. This is not something that you go out and collect and hoard for the future. God will provide what the people need that day and for that day only. And on the day before the Sabbath, God will provide for two days. So implicit in this tale are several points. First, you should only take what you need. And it is a base assumption that you shall remember the Sabbath. The manna is a gift; it is also a test. God offers freedom. God provides. Do we really trust that? Do we trust it enough to know that it’s going to happen again and again in our lives?

There’s another point too. As the dew lifted and the manna from heaven was revealed, the people didn’t even know what it was. “What is it?,” they asked. It wasn’t what they had envisioned; it wasn’t what they planned. (Many scholars explain manna as a surplus secretion from insects. It’s sort of like honey, but loaded with carbohydrates and nutrients. Nutritionists would call it a “super food”.) But it wasn’t what the Israelites put on their menu when they were dreaming up dinner!) Perhaps that’s part of the story! I mean, what would you have thought if there underneath the dew was a seven-course meal—maybe starting with a choice between a soup or a salad and then ending with a vast array of extravagant desserts? Yeah, I think that’s sort of over the top too. Manna is as much about gratitude for what is as it is about just opening our eyes to see what God brings into our lives.

In fact, manna was downright surprising on every level—unexpected, undeserved, uncharacteristic. I guess that sounds a whole lot like grace! But this manna was so small, so minute, so fleeting. It was definitely an exercise in trust. It was an exercise in self-control. And it means that we have to believe that God will always provide what we need—at the very least until tomorrow!

 Francis once visited a hermitage at Monte Casale, where the guardian reported that some thieves had just made off with a stash of bread. Francis said, “I must apprehend them!” So he took off down the road, caught up to them, and revealed he was carrying bread and a bottle of wine. “You must be hungry and thirsty, so here: eat, and drink, and come back to Monte Casale where there’s more.” The thieves, once they recovered from their shock, came with him, and became friars, friends of Francis and of Christ. (From “Small and White, Clean and Bright”, by Rev. Dr. James C. Howell, available at http://day1.org/3155-small_and_white_clean_and_bright, accessed 13 September, 2011.)

 

  1. What is your response to this passage?
  2. Why do you think this story is so significant?
  3. How good are we at being grateful for what is?
  4. So what lesson does this story provide for us today?

 

 NEW TESTAMENT: Philippians 1: 21-30

To read the Lectionary Epistle, click here

Paul is writing this letter from prison and does not know whether he will ever be released or see the congregation to which he writes again. But he is not feeling a sense of despair but rather a real freedom. He knows that they are praying for him and regardless of what happens, this will all turn to abundance. In the letter, Paul turns toward the congregation and encourages them to live their faith. He tells them to “live their lives in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ.”

The Greek word that is translated “live your life” here is politeusthe, with the same root as polis, Greek for “city”, so the implication is the directive to “live as a free citizen.” Obviously, Paul’s meaning is the call to live in freedom within the order of God, rather than the order of Rome. And then he exhorts them to witness to that freedom by, first of all, showing a spirit of unity. He calls them to be strong, implying that the imprisonment that has been thrust upon him might be the same thing that happens to them in the future.

It is interesting to think of this possible suffering as a “privilege” when one talks about his or her faith. That notion is completely counter to what our culture thinks. But Paul is talking about a way of life that is completely counter itself. And in that way of life, it is indeed a privilege to call oneself a child and follower of God. The privilege is that we are given a faith so deep and so broad that it fills our lives in spite of any suffering that this world in which we live might thrust upon us. It is, according to Paul, a privilege to live a life that challenges and questions the pervading order of our world.

This passage obviously depicts Paul’s great and intense faith. But it is not a blind faith. There is nothing here claiming a God that will “fix things”. There is nothing here about God rewarding faithfulness with ease and prosperity. Instead, Paul has faith in the greatness of God, faith that God is beyond all we see and all we know, faith in a God that rather than blindly fixing or repairing our world leads us to a freedom from it, to a life that sees beyond to a life promised by the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Paul recognizes that suffering will happen. It is a normal and even expected part of life. But we’re about something bigger. We have the privilege of believing in something more. And that, Paul would say, is worth sharing the Good News.

 

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. What is difficult about this passage for you?
  3. How do we look upon suffering in this world in light of our faith?
  4. What does it mean to you to say that we are “privileged” to belief in Christ? How does that call you to live your life?

  

GOSPEL: Matthew 20: 1-16

To read the Lectionary Gospel passage, click here

When I was little and started whining about something, it usually included the words, “That’s not fair!” No, it probably wasn’t. But often my mom would respond with the words (which, I will tell you, I hated at the time!), “Well, Shelli, life is not fair!” What kind of answer was that? I wanted pastoral compassion and I got shocking realism. Maybe that’s what Jesus is going for here.

The story, of course, has elements of exaggeration, but maybe the shock value is intended to get us to look at life differently. This is really a very ordinary setting. A landowner goes out early to hire workers and contracts with them for work that day in his vineyard. You know, we can easily put this story in our own context. Let’s say a person goes out early to hire workers and contracts with them for work that day replanting our dying grass in our yard. About mid-morning, the person sees others standing near the property. Well, it’s logical that the more laborers you have working, the faster the work gets done, right? So he puts them to work. More workers are added to the ranks around lunchtime and again in the middle of the afternoon.

When evening comes, the work is done and the yard is planted. The owner calls all of the workers together and begins handing out paychecks. He starts with those that had been hired last. They receive a nice wage, a full day’s wage, in fact. The workers who had been there earlier become excited. Wow! I bet I’m going to receive a bonus for being here earlier. This is going to be great!

But the owner paid everyone the same. After all, that’s the wage to which they had agreed. The owner can be as generous as he or she wants to be to whomever he or she wants to be. And even those that came to the setting last received the same generous spirit as those that came first. Now the owner could have alleviated a lot of the problems and consternation between the workers if he had just paid them beginning with he first hired. Then they would have gone off happy with their day’s wages and never have known that the latecomers got the same thing. But then they would have missed the lesson. The point is not that the owner treats some better than others. The point is that he treats them all the same.

We often have struggled with this story. Barbara Brown Taylor says that this parable is “a little bit like cod liver oil: you know it must be good for you, but that does not make it any easier to swallow.” After all, for us, it’s a question of fairness. But remember, “life is not fair.”   In fact, God never promised fairness. God promised unconditional and infinite mercy, and compassion, and justice. God’s grace is there for those who have been righteous all their lives. And God’s grace is equally showered upon those who have messed up their lives. And, if you really think about your own life, would you really want God to be fair? Thank God, God is not fair.

But this parable is a question of fairness. And the answer is that life is not fair. You see, when you think about it, fairness is pretty subjective. I mean, very few people will shout “unfair” when they are on the winning side. What is “fair” to us may not be “fair” to others? We need to reframe our reading of this passage and at the same time reframe our reading of life with a different set of values, the values that God’s Kingdom holds. People are treated according to their needs, not according to what they deserve. And for that, I am very thankful!

Life is not fair. We know that all too well. But Jesus told this parable to shake us out of our complacent view of a neatly ordered life based on what we think we deserve. This parable jolts us into remembering what is important. This question of fairness is answered by God’s promise of justice and mercy for everyone. And once we realize that, no matter what our own circumstances, we cannot help but be motivated to change the world or, at the very least, to begin to look at it differently.

The parable challenges Jesus’ disciples in their spiritual arrogance. It challenges Matthew’s Jewish Christians who oppose the entry of Gentiles into the blessings of the kingdom. It challenges us today in our churches as we begrudge the joy of the gospel to those whom we deem less industrious, less committed, less worthy of it than we are.

The character(s) with whom we identify when we read a story tells us a great deal about ourselves and our self-conceptions. I suspect most of us identify with the workers who started out early in the morning and, on grounds of economic fairness, feel uncomfortable with this parable. What if the truth was that we ought to identify with those who started last? Only when we shed our spiritual arrogance can we experience the good news of this quirky parable, rather than being offended by its economics.

This came home to me when I was asked to perform a funeral recently. It was the funeral of Bill, the father of a church member. I knew his daughter and her husband and family but had only met Bill a couple of times at social gatherings at their home. He had been a vital man with a good sense of humor. He had been a successful salesman and made an excellent living, enjoying his retirement and frequent golf games until he had been stricken with Alzheimer’s two years before. Since I had not known Bill well, I asked if I could meet with the family and find out what their loved one had been like firsthand.

So I sat around a kitchen table one Saturday afternoon with Bill’s three children and their spouses, his niece, and nephew. I began by asking, “If you could express in one sentence what you learned from Bill, what would it be?” Nobody had to think about the question very long. “Give without counting the cost and without expecting a return,” one of them said quickly. And that sentiment was echoed all around the table.

Then they started giving examples. “He put me through school,” said his niece. “I didn’t even ask; he just knew my folks couldn’t do it.” “He bailed me out of jail,” said his son. “He never gave up hope in me,” said his nephew. “He gave me the gift of somebody believing in me.” Example after example of a man who knew how to give without counting the cost, without expecting a return. “He always made sure his children’s needs were met,” his daughter said, “but sometimes, I admit we felt jealous when he would give time and money to people who weren’t in our immediate family. Now I realize that his example of giving was his greatest gift to us.”Do you think that someday all of us who find this parable objectionable will say the same thing about Jesus? (From “Sheer Grace: Reflections on Matthew 19:27-20:16”, by Alyce McKenzie, available at http://www.patheos.com/Resources/Additional-Resources/Sheer-Grace-Alyce-McKenzie-09-12-2011, accessed 14 September, 2011.)

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. What is difficult about this passage for you?
  3. What, for you, is the difference between justice and fairness?
  4. Why do we have such a hard time distinguishing between these two meanings?

 

Some Quotes for Further Reflection:

 

We must be ready to allow ourselves to be interrupted by God…We must not…assume that our schedule is our own to manage, but allow it to be arranged by God. (Dietrich Bonhoeffer)

 

Our inner happiness depends not on what we experience but on the degree of our gratitude to God, whatever the experience. (Albert Schweitzer)

 

If only it were all so simple! If only there were evil people somewhere committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart? (Alexander Solzhenitsyn)

 

Closing

 

O give thanks to the Beloved, and open your hearts to Love. Awaken! Listn in silence for the Voice of the Counselor. Sing praises with glad voice, and give witness to the truth with your lives! Glory in the radiance of the Beloved; let the hearts of those who call upon You rejoice! Seek the One who is Life, your strength, walk harmoniously in Love’s Presence! Remember that you are not alone, for through Love doubt and fear are released; O people of the earth, ever bear in mind the unity of diversity in the Divine Plan! Amen.

 

 (From “Psalm 105”, in Psalms for Praying: An Invitation to Wholeness, by Nan C. Merrill, p. 217.)

Proper 14A: See, You Have to Get Out of the Boat

 

Peter Walking on the Water, Allessandro Allori, ca. 1590
Peter Walking on the Water, Allessandro Allori, ca. 1590

OLD TESTAMENT: Genesis 37:1-4, 12-28

To read the Old Testament Lectionary passage, go to http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=274192551

Jacob settles in the land of promise. This sets up the themes for the story: the movement from Canaan to Egypt and the development from individual to “the chosen people”. As it became obvious that Joseph was his father’s pet, the brothers grew to hate him and could not speak to him peaceably. The coat given to Joseph by his father is a sign of that favoritism. Remember that Joseph was the son of Jacob’s “favorite” wife, Rachel. He was also the child of Jacob’s old age, probably born long after Jacob had given up on the possibility of Rachel conceiving.

Communication breaks down and the stage is set for yet another family conflict. The brothers then journey some fifty miles from Hebron to pasture the flock where there is good grassland. Joseph stays home. Jacob sends him to look into the well-being of the brothers and of their flocks and report back. But because the brothers have moved to Dothan (fifteen miles north of Shechem), Joseph has difficulty finding them.

Considering Jacob’s past, we can’t help but wonder about his motivation. Didn’t he know of the brother’s feelings toward Joseph? Or was he possibly trying to force some family reconciliation? You really can’t help but wonder whether this is a naïve, loving father who hopes the brothers can work things out. So, the brothers plot against Joseph and when they see him approaching, they conspire to kill him. Their motivation centers on Joseph’s dream (they sarcastically call him a “master of dreams”).

Our passage doesn’t have us actually reading about the dreams, but it’s an important part of the story and the motivation for what happens. Joseph’s dreams, which are so famous, depict the entire family bowing down to him in reverence, a sign that he is the head of the family. This, of course, infuriates all of his older brothers and sets the stage for what comes next. Keep in mind that it was understood that dreams were looked upon as some sort of divine intervention. But the brothers looked upon Joseph’s dreams as a type of arrogance. By getting rid of him, they will make certain that the dream does not become a reality. But, ironically, by selling him to Egypt they enable it to become so. This place Egypt is now part of the story that will lead us into the Exodus saga. The brothers agree to sell him to passing Ishmaelites or, in some texts, Midianite traders. But, Joseph is ultimately sold on the open slave market and is taken to Egypt (which will ultimately provide a link between the Genesis story and the Exodus story, so the “family” theme becomes a “national” one.).

The brothers return to their father with Joseph’s coat dipped in goat’s blood and tell him that Joseph is dead. (The trickster has been tricked!) And yet still, God continues to exist even with this somewhat less than ideal, chaotic, conniving family. God remains with them. But the family of Jacob will become the family that enters Canaan.

This is an odd story, to say the least. I mean, really, what kind of parent is Jacob? And on some level, Joseph is really nothing more than a spoiled obnoxious brat. But all of that is overshadowed by this band of brothers who conspire murder. I think that may take the cake! But once again, God takes even this and uses it. This story sets in motion the rest of the Genesis story. Once again, the cycle is repeated—the eldest, the one who should be “in charge”, who should inherit the legacy and the birthright, is not in line to do that (or lets it slip away). Next week’s Old Testament lection will see the reuniting of Joseph and his brothers and the continuation of the Genesis story and this family’s story as it weaves through it. But along the way, God does not interfere with humanity’s mistakes. That is not the way God conducts business as Master of Creation. There are many ways that Creation and Re-creation happen. God is pretty good at using whatever instruments are available. I think God has to be; otherwise, this whole free will thing would have been possibly the biggest regret that God has. And I don’t think it is. God doesn’t demand perfection—just openness to the possibility that change is always in our midst.

The 15th century Spanish commentator Rabbi Isaac Arama interprets it like this:

 

In the Joseph story, we find all the protagonists playing their own parts, carrying out their personal objectives, without affecting God’s overall design. Quite the contrary, the freedom of choice of none of the participants is interfered with in any way… The chain of events in which the jealousy of Joseph’s brothers played a prominent part, ultimately proved to have become the instrument for carrying out God’s design. However God could have found many other means to achieve the same end. Therefore the brothers cannot claim exoneration by saying that what they had done helped God to achieve his aim. The Bible is full of similar lessons. (From “Joseph, Don’t Go!”, by Eliezer Segal, University of Calvary, available at http://people.ucalgary.ca/~elsegal/Shokel/Preaching/S971221_Vayyeshev.html, accessed 3 August, 2011.)

 

And, using the words of the prophet Jeremiah, Rabbi Samuel bar Nahmani writes this Midrash (Genesis Rabbah 85:1):

 

“For I know the thoughts that I think towards you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil” (Jeremiah 29:11): The tribes were busy with the selling of Joseph. Jacob was busy with his sackcloth and mourning. Judah was busy looking for a woman. While the Holy One was creating the light of the Messiah! (From “Joseph, Don’t Go!, Ibid.)

 

  1. What is your response to this passage?
  2. What do you think of Jacob’s part in this story?
  3. What about Joseph’s part of the story?
  4. What part does fear play in this story?
  5. This story is told without a single reference to God. Where do you see God in this story?

  

NEW TESTAMENT: Romans 10: 5-15

To read the Lectionary Epistle Passage, click here

In this passage, Paul is in the middle of explaining why the gospel does not amount to a betrayal of his own people or a denial of scripture. He uses a text from the eighteenth chapter of Leviticus. Here “live” implies life with God. He claims that this new way of looking at things, this gospel, creates something that produces right relationship and, subsequently, right behavior. It takes further this idea of the commandments, “God’s law”, no longer being external “rules” but rather something that is indeed written on one’s heart. The basis for righteousness, for Paul, is being at one with God.

Paul professes that acceptance of Christ as Lord leads to liberation. Essentially, Paul has made the same claim before but, here, he is speaking of a more internalized relationship with God. It is beyond just doing right and living right; it is being one with God. At the end of the passage, Paul affirms the equality of all humanity before God, either Jew or Gentile. Right-standing before God is a gift available to all humanity for the asking. To stand approved before God (to stand justified) is simply a matter of faith.

The problem that Paul is countering is that most saw goodness as achieved by obeying the law. They saw their standing as progressed by merit. They could not grasp “perfection” in the sense of Christ. You can actually sense Paul’s frustration. His passionate belief in the Gospel and in Jesus Christ as Savior comes through. But you also get a sense of a certain frustration. He truly believes that the Gospel is open and inclusive of everyone and, yet, he is frustrated that he doesn’t seem to be getting the response that he desires. And yet, he never gives up on the notion that Israel is special, chosen. He cannot imagine that God would ultimately abandon God’s covenant people. God will not just quit loving God’s children. It is apparent that Paul’s image of God is of a Creator who is loving and caring toward all of Creation.

Maybe, given the three questions toward the end of the passage, this discourse is more about proclamation than trying to figure out who was going to be saved. (Personally, I think that’s more up to God than anyone else! If God wants to save everyone, I actually think that’s God’s prerogative. I mean, are there really rules in place here?) But Paul is clear that if one professes to be a Christian, than one must openly confess the Gospel of Jesus Christ. We are sent into the world to proclaim the Good News, rather than to weed out (Oh my…can’t get rid of the weed imagery, can we?) who is saved by the words. I mean, last I checked, we were saved by grace! Isn’t that worth talking about?

The last verse of this reading is familiar, thanks to Handel. Think about it—how comfortable are we with “feet”. (Not shoes, feet!) There is an African proverb that says, “When you pray, move your feet.” In other words, we are sent to proclaim the good news. I THINK that’s why our own United Methodist Church recently added “witness” to our liturgy of commitment and confirmation. We now commit our prayers, our presence, our gifts, our service, and our witness. Go! Now! Start moving! Start talking!

Pope John Paul II once said that “modern [humanity] often anxiously wonders about the solution to the terrible tensions which have built up in the world and which entangle humanity. And if at times [we] lack the courage to utter the word “mercy,” or if in [our] conscience empty of religious content [we] do not find the equivalent, so much greater is the need for the Church to utter this word, not only in her own name, but also in the name of all the men and women of our time.” So, then, what is it we are being called to utter? How do we profess the Gospel of Jesus Christ?

 

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. What does “being one with God” mean for you?
  3. How well do you think WE grasp perfection in the sense of Christ?
  4. How, then, should we look at the “written law”?
  5. What does it mean to you to profess your “witness”?

 

 

GOSPEL: Matthew 14: 22-33

To read the Lectionary Gospel passage, click here

This story is probably one of the most loved. We like the calming effect of it. We like the image of a Christ who brings peace and calm to our lives, who will at a moment’s notice reach out a hand to save us. It makes us feel good. It alleviates our fears.

And yet, is that really all this Scripture is meant to portray? Look at the beginning. Jesus sends the disciples forth without him. He knew that they had the wherewithal to do it, to make it across to the other side. And then he went up to the mountain by himself to pray. And then the clouds rolled in. The winds came up and the waves began to batter the boat that held the disciples. And all of a sudden, Jesus was there, holding out his hand, inviting Peter to get out of the boat. Peter was assured by Jesus’ strong hand and his encouraging eyes. So he followed. And then, fears crept in. What in the world was he doing? This was nuts, not even rational. And he began to sink, began to drown.

In an article on this passage in The Christian Century, Amy Hunter says that “Peter’s growing awareness of the wind and the waves reminds [her] of the cartoon of the coyote chasing the roadrunner off the cliff. The roadrunner always makes it across the gap, but every time the coyote, halfway across, becomes aware that there is nothing beneath his feet, he stops cold, then plummets down.” (Amy Hunter, “Stepping Out”, in The Christian Century, July 26, 2005, 19., available at http://www.religion-online.org/showarticle.asp?title=3234, accessed 1 August, 2011.)

So think about this: Did Peter begin to sink because he was afraid or because he let his fears control the person he was and affect what he was being called to do?  Over and over again in Scripture, we read the words “do not be afraid”. That is not the same as being told not to fear. Of course we are going to have fears. They are normal human emotions. In fact, 19th century British Prime Minister and literary figure Benjamin Disraeli once said that “fear makes us feel our humanity.”   I really do think that that is a good thing. I think God wants us to feel our humanity at its deepest and most profound level; otherwise, why would God have made us human in the first place? God wants us to know who we are—fears and doubts and all—so well that we will finally realize that we cannot do this alone. It is a way of trusting our fear to bring us back home.

And the truth is, most of us are a little uneasy with Jesus’ question of Peter: “Why did you doubt?” I have to say that I squirm in my seat a little and want desperately to jump to Peter’s defense as well as my own. I mean, really, waves and wind, little bitty boat, and the fact that it is just not physically possible to walk on water! I’m sorry, you want me to get out of the boat in the middle of a storm and do what? Isn’t that enough to at least warrant a minimum requirement of fear and doubt?

Again, if God’s expectation of us is not to fear and not to doubt, then we are asked to do the impossible. We are asked to do that which we are not really capable of doing. God can do it; I’m clear I cannot. We are essentially asked to do something as ludicrous as walking on water.   This passage can pretty easily generate uncomfortable questions and just downright bad theologies. Jesus is not asking Peter to prove his faith. And the message is not that having faith will shield us from all harm and woe. In her article, Hunter said that “[she] had a classmate at an evangelical Christian college who repeatedly defined faith as ‘stepping out of airplanes, knowing that God will catch you.’ [Hunter’s] response was that surely God had better things to do than catch folks stupid enough to step out of airplanes.” (Ibid.)

You see, faith is not a shield that we create that protects us from harm. It is not something that we accomplish or wear like a badge of honor. I don’t even think it’s something that is measurable. It’s not something that we check off of our “to do” list. Rather, faith makes us realize that we’re not in this alone. Maybe God will pull us out of the storm in the nick of time. I think it’s much more profound to believe in a God who will get in the storm with me, who will hold me, allow me to wrestle, allow me to fight against the waves. I believe in a God who doesn’t demean me or dismiss me for being afraid. Sure, I’m afraid! After all, there’s a big wave coming my way right now! What kind of semi-emotionally-adjusted human WOULDN’T have fears?

You know, Peter had fears. He admitted he had fears—ghosts, storms, death. Jesus never said to him that those were unfounded or baseless or stupid. Jesus just held out his hand and cheered him on. “Peter, you almost have it, hold on, hold on.” It is no different for us. In his 1833 Journals, Ralph Waldo Emerson said that “the wise man in the storm prays to God, not for safety from danger, but for deliverance from fear.” We need to trust our fears. They are part of our very being. They are part of the way God made us to be. But they don’t need to control what we do or who we are. There is a way to recast (i.e. reconstruct or remodel) those fears into something that is life-giving.

Of what are you afraid? Most of it comes down to one thing: chaos—loss of control, loss of knowing what will happen in one’s life, loss of being prepared for what is to come. Really? Did you forget what God can do? God has done this over and over and over again—creating order out of chaos, light out of darkness, wisdom out of stupidity, and life out of death. It’s about faith. It’s about trust. And it’s also about opening yourself to recasting your fears into something that allows you to look to Christ when you feel like your feet are sinking into the abyss. And part of recasting those fears means, I’m afraid, that once in awhile you have to get out of the boat!

 

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. What image of God does this story bring about for you?
  3. How does fear affect our faith? How does it affect our image of God?
  4. What scares you the most? How could that be recast into something life-giving?

 

 

Some Quotes for Further Reflection:

 The way of faith is necessarily obscure. We drive by night. (Thomas Merton)

 Trust is letting go of needing to know all the details before you open your heart. (Unknown)

Faith does not need to push the river precisely because it is able to trust that there is a river. (Richard Rohr, Everything Belongs: The Gift of Contemplative Prayer, p. 122)

 

Closing

Worry and stress are not hard for us, God. We do them without thinking. There is always the potential of threat to our security, our comfort, our health, our relationships, our lives, and we foolishly think that we could silence the fear if we just had enough money, enough insurance, enough toys, enough stored away for a rainy day. It’s never enough, though; The voice of our fear will not be dismissed so easily. But in the small silent places within us is another voice: one that beckons us into the foolishness of faith, that points our gaze to the birds and flowers, that, in unguarded moments, lets our muscles relax and our hearts lean into loved ones; In unexpected whispers we hear it, calling us to remember your promises, your grace, your faithfulness; And suddenly, we discover that it is enough. Amen. (John Van De Laar, in Weavings, Vol. XXV, Number 4, p. 41.)