Jesus Stills a Storm

35 On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, “Let us go across to the other side.” 36 And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. 37 A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. 38 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?” 39 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. 40 He said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” 41 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?”

 

 “Sailing and Believing.”

 

Sing: Hvem kan sejle foruden vind,

Hvem kan ro uden aarer

Hvem kan skills fra vennen sin

Uden at faelde taarer.”

 

Who can fail without wind?

Who can row without oars?

Who can separate from the dearest friend?

Without shedding a tear.

 

I have always loved this old Swedish Folk tune. I have listened to it countless times, beautifully sung by Agnate Fältskog from Abba, by Sissell Kirkeby, or the amazing Brigitte Grimstad daughter of acclaimed Danish singer Aksel Schiotz.

The old song is a beloved song in the Nordic treasures of shared songs, and it has the melancholic sad Nordic tune of lost opportunities, lost love, lost light, and the remarkable power of wind and love.

I have sung this song so many times. As a lullaby for our boys, as a fitting tune when sailing or near the oceanic waves and wind, - and when singing in choir in HS or in my college years. I love to sing this song, and it moves me every time.

Who can sail without wind?

Who can row without oars?

Who can separate from the dearest friend?

Without shedding a tear.

 

Who can sail without wind or oars?

Who can navigate a ship without wind or oars? Who can navigate without a captain?

 

SLIDE 31 Welcome to church! Welcome onboard the ship of faith, hope and love!

We are gathered in the church this morning. In the nave. In the ship. Row by row, Seat by seat. Sailing the same directions. To east. To sunrise. To God.

The ship is such an integral part of our Christian imagery and metaphors. And we recall stories like todays Gospel or the story about Noah’s ark. Yes, even before Denmark became a Christian Kingdom, the ship has been an important symbol for Vikings as their favorite transportation and exploring tool, and as the favorite shape for their gravesite and monuments.

 

When I read the Gospel story about sailing, storms, fear and Jesus, I am reminded of a quote of a Danish theologian: “God, our ship is small and your ocean big”

 This saying and sentiment is reflected in today’s gospel and even more in all the readings of this morning. Our ship, our life, is small and Gods Ocean is waste.

A preacher fell into the ocean, and he couldn’t swim.  When a boat came by, the captain yelled, “Do you need help, sir?” The preacher calmly said “No, God will save me.”

A little later, another boat came by, and a fisherman asked, “Hey, do you need help?” The preacher replied again, “No God will save me.”

Eventually, the preacher drowned & went to heaven. The preacher asked God, “Why didn’t you save me?” God replied, “Fool, I sent you two boats!”

 

The boat or the ship is a great symbol of life and faith. Sometimes we sail along, quietly, and softly over the beautiful blue waters. Other times we are sailing, and the waves batter us back and forth and reminds us of the forces of nature and life. And sometimes we are during a storm, where the waves crash in, the winds take over control of the boat, and we are left with our fear…. And our faith. “God, our ship is small and your ocean big.”

 

One of the finest symbols here in our Danish Lutheran church is hanging from the ceiling. As a beautiful reminder our church ship or ships are swaying and sailing and constantly reminding us of how we are meant to sail together in unity, in spirit and in hope. To be sailing together, to be in the same boat, to share the comfort and the discomfort of sailing over troubled waters, to be seated row by row to sail in the same directions. And most importantly to leave the steering to God and to trust that he will indeed bring us safe to shore.

 The church ship is a great symbol of life and life as a journey. The church ship goes back a long time in our Nordic pagan traditions and our Christian Religious traditions. And we add one more component and layer to the symbolism: as these ships also are the bearers of the recent history of Immigration from the Nordic countries to US.

It is a great symbol to us as a Danish Church founded by Danish Immigrants, who literally crossed the ocean and the stormy waters to get to the promised land of America to settle and find a new place to call home. Immigrants came looking for happiness, home and opportunity, but others  were brought as slaves to bring others happiness and opportunity.

But as Dr. Martin Luther King once said: “We may have all come on different ships, but we’re in the same boat now.”

 

It can be scary on a ship. It can be scary and dangerous on a ship on stormy waters. And that is where we are today with the Gospel: “When evening had come, Jesus said to his disciples: Let us go across to the other side….” A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat…. And the disciples were scared.

 

Let us go across to the other side, let us travel out on unknown waters and head for unknow shores…. Even that concept could have made the disciples scared. As they were scared so we often fear traveling outside of our comfort zone, to unknow shores, to visit stranger that could be friends, to dare to travel further and farther away from comfort, and the concept of usual.

Henri Nouwen, a Dutch Catholic Priest and professor, wrote:

“Let us not be afraid to receive each day’s surprise, whether it comes to us as sorrow or as joy. It will open a new place in our hearts, a place where we can welcome new friends and celebrate more fully our shared humanity.”

“Let us go across to the other side.”

Jesus invited his disciple to detach from the familiar shores of Capernaum toward the strange and foreign shores of the Gerasene.

From this very beginning the disciples had to live in a constant posture of flexibility and adaptability, because they never knew were Jesus wanted to travel, go, sail or eat. They never knew were God’s Spirit led them.

Too often we anchor our lives on familiar shores by commiting all our energy to cautious preparation, familiar routines and the security of usual. Too often we get stuck and are afraid or unwilling to move, to sail out, to try, to dare…. To live.

 

And then Jesus invites us onboard his ship and says: “Let us cross to the other side.”

Jesus had already had great success on the familiar shore: he called his first disciples there; he taught his parables, he had many many devoted followers, but he never settled. Jesus invited them to leave behind the safety of tested shores and pattern and undertake a journey toward the unknown.

 

This past year, the still lingering Pandemic, was our storm of the ocean of life. We have been scared, we have been afraid, and we have been praying.

 

This Pandemic has taught us many many lessons, and it has also taught us to dare and have faith.

We have crossed to the other shore: we have left the security of the known, the tested, the normal and the usual behind us. As individuals, as community, as country, and as a church.

We have been invited to cross to the other side and reach the shores of change, reformation, restoration, reconciliation and tomorrow.

 

We were forced to leave our shores of safety and sameness for the shores of growth, learning and hope and humanity. And we cannot go back… because our faith is always moving; and like the wind and the ship letting us sail to unknow n shores, together and with God.

 

The disciples left the shores of Capernaum for another unknown shore, a place that could enlarge their spirits and renew their faith, hope and love.

 

The ship seemed to be doomed: shaking, dipping and sinking in chaos. But Jesus converses with the chaos. The speaks: “Peace be still” – he demands the winds to be silent, to be muzzled. And he uses the same kind of language to silence the demons. Evil destructive spirits and chaotic storms – he controls them.  

 5 The Danish Philosopher Soren Kierkegaard claimed that to be religious means that we take an existential leap unto the uncertainty of 70.000 fathoms of water. Faith is a choice that contradicts certainty and knowledge. This kind of faith is both a redemption and struggle to try to find solid ground in life.

Thus, we as believers must embrace our doubt and dare to take the leap of faith. When we dare to take the leap of faith unto the uncertainty of 70.000 fathoms of water, we must jump catching Jesus by the hand. Then we realize that we are not ourselves masters of life, and we feel that something else is keeping us afloat. A life that is lived by itself, is not a life, Kierkegaard claimed. You need to dare to lose your foothold – to find faith.

Do not be afraid.

 We are still sailing along. We are still seated row by row, side by side, looking towards East, the sunrise and hope.

We are seated here in our beautiful church, but we have expanded our shores to include all the ones who faithfully follow us virtually. We have crossed to the other side, and we try to embrace our well known safe shores and the new ones reached.

We are still sailing. And we are still in one boat. A ship, a church, a community, and a country of many different people with different opinions, callings, talents, cultures, ethnicity, and struggles.

 

As Bishop Michael Curry said in his Pentecost Sermon: Pastors, remember, you are not Recreational Cruise ship Directors, but Prophets on Turbulent Waters. And I do know that many pastors have felt this through the past year…. Navigating on turbulent waters and trying to cross over. As we are emerging from the Pandemic, we are still facing financial problems, we are still facing deep divisions, we are still facing necessary debate about discrimination and racism, we are still worried about the future, but we need to continue to sail together. And dare to leave the shores of usual and sameness. Life is bigger and bolder, we can be bigger and bolder…..

Who can sail without wind?

Who can sail without oars?

We cannot. We need wind in the sails, spirit in our souls, and oars to navigate, and faith to dare. And we trust that we have a captain on board, that will not leave us.

As the old hymn says:  

Jesus, Savior, pilot me,

Over life’s tempestuous sea

Unknown waves before me roll

Hiding rock and treacherous shoal

Chart and compass come from Thee,

Jesus, Savior pilot me. Amen.