In The Same Boat -- With Jesus
Mark 4:35-41 Lectionary 12, Proper 7 June 20, 2021
St. Martin’s Episcopal Church, Williamsburg,
Virginia
My
niece and her wife live on a boat. A few
weeks ago, they were docked in Portsmouth and, one night, Patty and I took
dinner to them on their boat. Of course,
we had to enter into the negotiations that we’re engaged in, these days: masks
or no masks? According to the CDC, since
Patty and I are vaccinated, we don’t need to wear masks around other
adults. But would Rachel and Sarah be
comfortable with that? There was only a
moment of awkwardness. To interject some
lightness, I said, “Well, we’re all in the same boat, having to negotiate this
every time we get together with someone new!”
“In the same
boat.” Heh, heh. (Get it?
We were, literally, in the same boat!
I wish I could say I was witty enough to have used that phrase on purpose,
in that situation …)
In the story we read
this morning, from the gospel of Mark, the disciples are in the same boat with
Jesus. On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, “Let us
go across to the other side.” And
leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat
into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped.
* * *
How does it feel to be
in the same boat together, on this first Sunday back in the building?! It feels awfully good, doesn’t it?
There’s a danger in
being back inside, you know. Over the
past months, even our worship has been outside these walls, out in the world. When the pandemic first hit, and churches
closed their buildings, a colleague took advantage of that to say, “The church
isn’t closed! The church is deployed!” I thought that was brilliant. We do gather for worship, as the community
the Spirit has called together. This is our
central weekly activity. But the church
is us, out in the world, wherever God has called us to do our ministries, among
those we live with and work with and play with.
I loved the reminders of that when we were worshiping outside: the sound
of the cars going by on Jamestown Road, the sound of the airplanes flying
overhead, the people walking on the sidewalk, peering through the bushes,
wondering what those strange people were doing down there in the parking lot
with that priest dressed in those funny clothes. I worry that we think that this is church: what
we’re doing right now, gathering in the air conditioning, closed off from the
mission field which is – where? It’s
outside those doors! (I’m not saying I
have anything against air conditioning, you understand!)
* * *
The church as a boat
has long been a helpful image, as we the church navigate the course God sets
for us in the world we all live and work and play in. (In years past, there was actually a Danish
Lutheran tradition to hang a wooden model of a boat from the ceiling in the
worship space!)
Think of us in the same
boat of the church together. Since we
last worshiped in this space, think of how rough the water has been. Think of the storm of COVID-19 that has
killed nearly four million people and debilitated untold others, even as, here
in America, it has further divided us politically. (How can it be that mask wearing is a sign of
political identity rather than a public health measure?) George Floyd’s murder unleashed the storm of
protest against police violence against black and brown people; even many white
folks have come to recognize the crisis.
The past presidential election and is aftermath is proving to be a destructive
storm, including the first-ever display of the Confederate battle flag by
insurrectionists in the United States Capitol building, and a significant
number of Americans thinking the election of President Biden was illegitimate
because his predecessor continues to say the election was stolen from him.
I am proud that this
parish named for St. Martin has courageously sailed straight into these storms. We are reaffirming the founding mission of
this parish, following the course of God’s desires, according to the witness of
the Bible. I remind you that “justice”
is a Biblical word. In fact, it is a
primary theme in the Bible. When we read
what the Bible actually says, we find God’s call for justice over and over
again, because, without fail, God takes the side of those who are suffering,
those who are oppressed, those who suffer from poverty and injustice and
violence. The metal sign out on
Jamestown Road next to the church sign witnesses to everyone driving past that
this parish pays attention to the God of the Bible. (The sign reads: "Black lives matter. -- God")
* * *
On that day, when evening had come, [Jesus] said
to them, “Let us go across to the other side.”
And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just
as he was. Other boats were with him. A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat
into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped.
I loved to tell this
story to the children at the St. Stephen Preschool. I would sing a song with them (which my early
childhood teacher wife tells me is not the proper way to sing the song,
but it’s the song we’re going to sing right now). So make your boats!
Peter, James and John, in a little sail boat
Peter, James and John, in a little sail boat
Peter, James and John, in a little sail boat
Bring them safely home!
I would ask if any of
the children have been in a boat. And
what does a boat float on? And is water
dangerous? And what if there’s a big storm
that blows up and there are big waves, and the boat starts tilting, and
what if the boat would turn over!
And what would happen to Peter and James and John?!
And so we’d sing: Peter,
James and John, in a little sail boat …
But wait! Were Peter, James and John alone in that sail
boat? No! Who was with them? Jesus!!
And so we have to sing:
Peter, James and John (and
Jesus!), in a little sail boat …
We’re all in the same
boat, we who are the church. We’ve been
sailing through dangerously stormy times since the last time we worshiped in
this space. At times, hasn’t it felt
like we were being swamped?
But have we been by
ourselves in the boat?
Who’s been in the boat
with us?
That’s the good news
that I bring to you this morning, siblings in Christ!
With all the storms of
this past year and a half, and with all the storms to come that we will need to
sail straight into, the good news is that Jesus is with us, all of us in the same
boat as the church, gathered together. (That’s
in the title of the first book we’re reading this summer: “discovering Christ
in one another.”[1])
On that day, when evening had come, he said to
them, “Let us go across to the other side.”
And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just
as he was. Other boats were with him. 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;
and they woke him up and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are
perishing?” He woke up and rebuked the
wind, and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” Then the wind ceased, and there
was a dead calm. He said to them, “Why
are you afraid? Have you still no
faith?” And they were filled with great
awe and said to one another, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea
obey him?”
In the name of God who is Father and Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Pastor
Andy Ballentine
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