Pentecost 5 -2024
Mark 4:35-41 (thoughts while on leave)
Marian Free
In the name of God who knows our deepest fears, who holds us in the palm of God’s hands and who knows the number of hairs on on head. Amen.
One of my favourite hymns is ‘Abide with me.’ I have always loved it but knowing the role the hymn played in the life (or rather death) of Edith Cavell has given it new power and meaning.
Abide with me, fast falls the eventide
The darkness deepens Lord, with me abide
When other helpers fail and comforts flee
Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me
Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day
Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away
Change and decay in all around I see
O Thou who changest not, abide with me
I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness
Where is death’s sting?
Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me
Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies
Heaven’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee
In life, in death, o Lord, abide with me
Abide with me, abide with me. (Henry Francis Lyte and Will Henry Monk)
Edith Cavell was a nurse, and an extremely competent and brave woman. During the First World War, Cavell was based in Brussels. Her hospital was taken over by the Red Cross. Working for the Red Cross, Cavell treated all injured soldiers without distinction – friend and foe – and she assisted some 200 hundred Allied soldiers escape German occupied Belgium. For this, she was captured, accused of aiding a hostile power and sentenced to be executed for treason. The daughter of a priest, Cavell had a strong faith. The night before she was to face the firing squad, she was visited by an Anglican priest who was based in Brussels. After she received the Eucharist, she and the Rev’d Gahan sang together ‘Abide with me.’
I don’t know the history of this hymn, but the lyrics express a complete and utter faith in God, especially at the time of death. That Cavell could sing this when the firing squad awaited her fills me with awe as does the fact that she was able to ask the priest to tell her loved ones later on “that my soul, as I believe, is safe, and that I am glad to die for my country”.
To face such a gruesome death with such calm and confidence is surely something all Christians are capable of, but how many of us along the way allow ourselves to be bothered and weighed down by trivial and unimportant anxieties. When it comes down to it, how many of us trust God with every aspect of our existence.
This, I think is what today’s gospel is getting at – the ability (or not) to place our lives, with all their minor irritations and major setbacks, completely in the hands of God.
Mark’s account of the stormy sea crossing has a number of interesting features. In the first instance, according to Mark (and only Mark), the disciples venture on to the sea in the evening – a time when, as anyone knew, the waters could be rough and difficult to manoeuvre. We are not told why they took the risk, but it is clear that Mark places the responsibility for the dangerous journey on them. Secondly, we are told that they took Jesus ‘just as he was’ which supports the notion that not a lot of thought or preparation was put into the journey. Again, the blame for the situation seems to be being laid at the feet of the disciples.
Despite the lack of preparation and the failure of the disciples to take the conditions into account, Jesus is completely relaxed. Indeed, he is so relaxed that he falls asleep on a cushion.
As might be expected, a storm blew up in the evening. The boat was tossed about and swamped. Unable to control the boat, and in fear of their lives, the disciples wake Jesus, accusing him of not caring about them: ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’ they shout.
Jesus wakes, rebukes the wind and chides the disciples. It is important to note that Jesus doesn’t berate the disciples for not believing in his ability to control the elements. He doesn’t ask them: ‘didn’t you believe that I could do this?’ His question to the disciples is: ‘why are you afraid?‘ why are you afraid?
It is fear not faith in Jesus’ power that is at issue here.
Jesus, who probably knows the lake as well as any other Galilean, got into the boat and promptly fell asleep. He will have known that the wind was likely to come up. He will have known too, that if he so chose, he could command the wind to stop but he chooses to sleep instead of take control. Unlike the disciples, Jesus trusts in God so completely that he has no fear. Having placed himself in God’s hands Jesus trusts that whatever the outcome of the storm, he is with God and God with him. Sleep is possible because he has chosen not to worry – living or dying he knows that his life is God’s.
When we read this story, we are often so focussed on the storm and Jesus’ power over the natural elements that we lose sight of what may be the central point of the story – the sleeping Jesus’ utter trust in God, his lack of fear in the face of possible death and his knowledge that God is with him in every circumstance of his life – be it good or evil.
Like the disciples- who are foolish and uncomprehending in Mark’s gospel we don’t always get it. The disciple’s response says it all. ‘Who then is this that the wind and the sea obey him?’ It has nothing to do with faith and everything to with the miracle – which, when you think about it, completely negates the need for the sort faith that Jesus is modelling and which he will continue to model until the end. Faith that is dependent on miracles, faith that relies on God to get us out of tight corners, faith that believes God will always intervene to protect us from harm, is not the faith that Jesus lives and proclaims.
The faith that allows Jesus to sleep through the storm, is a faith that trusts the God of the universe to get us through (not avoid) life’s difficulties. The faith that Jesus lives is a faith that gives God control over our destiny (rather than trying to control every aspect of our lives by ourselves.) The faith that allowed Jesus to face the cross is a faith that understands that in life, in death, God abides with us.
This is a story not about Jesus’ taking control, but about Jesus’ willingness to relinquish control.
When we are tossed and turned about, do we seek to control our circumstances and rage that God doesn’t care? Or, can we like Jesus, remain asleep in a storm tossed boat?
Swallowsrest 