Teachable Moments Deepen our Faith

Job 38:1-11 3

Psalm 107:1-3, 23-32

Mark 4:35-41

When evening had come, Jesus said to his disciples, “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?”

Homily by David Whitlow

I first have to apologize to Kaki, for deciding to write my homily based on track 2 rather than track 1 in the lectionary.  Although I have generally followed whatever route our priest has been using when I prepare a homily, you need to know that although track 1 is the David and Goliath story in the Old Testament, track 2 is from Job, my favorite book in the Old Testament.  So, with apologies to Kaki, I will proceed.
 
For the last 43 years, Susan and I have had the great privilege of living at the edge of the Rappahannock River.   If I have learned nothing else from this experience, it is that weather changes on the water can be quick, dramatic and, at times, a little frightening.  Winds that drive the creation of waves can come up in an instant, and with nothing to break the airflow, gentle breezes can rise to gale force in the blink of an eye.  We have seen severe thunderstorms, hurricanes, nor-easters, and tornados.  Sometimes we have had fair warning of an impending change, and sometimes it seems that the change sneaks in on the sly and completely surprises us.  Frequently, these storms seem to end as suddenly as they have begun.  And, these events do frequently signify a change in plans, even if it just going around the yard and picking up the debris that the wind has knocked down.
 
Both of today’s readings draw our attention to the storm, especially to the wind, and as we have seen in many places in the Bible, the movement of air, God’s breath, should cause us to pay special attention.  But my homily for today is not really about the storms, or, maybe it really is.
 
In Job, we come into the story near the closing chapters of the book.  For the first thirty-seven chapters, we have heard about Job, righteous and God fearing, losing his family, his herds, his wealth and his health.  Then he sits on an ash heap and hears from his so-called friends, who tell Job that he must certainly have done something wrong to incur God’s wrath.  Job objects strenuously and calls upon God to confront him face-to-face with answers as to why such tragedies have befallen him.  In today’s passage, God responds, speaking to Job out of a whirlwind, think tornado, challenging Job to tell God what he thinks he knows.  Given that Susan, several months ago, described what is meant by girding up one’s loins, so perhaps I should ask her to come up and give us a demonstration?  Maybe not.
 
For the next four chapters, God challenges Job to speak up, but Job realizes that he is poor competition for God, ignorant of God’s plans, and he has no response but to acknowledge God’s power and majesty over humanity and that he, a poor human being, is nothing without God.
 
In the passage from Mark, we find a tired Jesus.  He has been preaching to ever growing crowds in the towns along the western shore of the Sea of Galilee.  When he is not preaching to the masses, he is teaching his disciples.  Now he needs a break.  At the end of a busy day, he tells his disciples that they are all going to get in a boat and travel to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, away from the crowds.  Jesus gets in the boat and promptly falls asleep in the stern.  His disciples, many of whom are experienced fishermen and know a thing or two about boats, cast off and promptly find themselves in the middle of a storm.  As the boat begins to take on water, the frightened crew wakens Jesus, who calls for the wind to cease, and it does.  But then Jesus confronts the disciples, asking why they were afraid, and questioning their faith.  I think that Jesus’ words in modern terms might be something like:  What are you thinking?  Do you believe that God is going to drown the Son?
 
Now, at first read, it might seem that in both of these readings, God is testing or challenging the followers, perhaps even punishing them.  That seems a little harsh to me, given God’s otherwise caring and loving approach to humanity and the covenants made with the chosen people.  In both readings, the characters involved seem to be innocent of any wrongdoing, so why would God mete out a punishment?  If it were so, we would probably be justified in arguing that God is an unjust God.
 
Looking deeper into these passages presents a different way of understanding what is happening, and I believe that the same answers come out of both passages.
 
Let’s start with the physical nature of what is happening in the stories.  In both passages, something out of the ordinary is occurring to attract our attention.  A whirlwind in Job and a sudden, strong storm in Mark.  This is part of what is called the theophany of the Bible, a visible manifestation of God to humankind.
 
In both of these passages, however, the focus is not the wind.  The wind just calls our attention to what is about to happen.
 
Both of these events should be viewed as teachable moments, but not perhaps in the handing down of some profound statement from the almighty or the Son, but a different form of teaching.  What is this?  I am drawn to a teaching based upon the questions and who is asking the questions.
 
The questions come not from Job or from the disciples, but instead, from God and from Jesus.  That is quite different from most of what we think of in the Bible, where the people ask the questions, seeking understanding from a higher authority. There is something different going on here.  Perhaps this is what we might call the Socratic method of teaching, where questions go back and forth, looking to explore and build new understanding.

Those being addressed, Job and the disciples, have no answers to the questions.  Either they plainly don’t know, are afraid to answer, or realize their mistake.  Or, perhaps, the hearers have had to pause and consider the possibilities.  The questions from God and Jesus are not a response to the questions that Job and the disciples have asked, Job’s questions of why and the disciples in asking do you not care.  Instead, they, the students, are asked to testify to a set of questions. I think that many teachers would agree that the strongest learning comes when students are deeply invested and are themselves searching for solutions.
 
Samuel Ballantine, retired professor of Old Testament at the Baptist Theological Seminary at Richmond and at Union Presbyterian Seminary wrote the following in his commentary on the Book of Job:
 
The objective of such questions is not to condemn persons for their failures. 
It is to encourage them to believe that the Creator of the world can construct new possibilities where none seem to exist.  The objective is not to silence those whose doubts threaten to eclipse faith.  It is to summon forth new affirmations that transform brokenness and loss by embracing the unfathomable certainty of God’s promise to redeem.  These questions can be answered; indeed, the purpose in asking them is to open up a space in the imagination that invites and makes possible an answer that has the capacity to change everything. 
 
This is the kind of God that I know, the God who invites questions, who desires exploration and exchange with seekers, causing humans to ponder their position in God’s world, a God who leads us to seek the answers that can change everything. In our lives, we all encounter storms.  Loss of loved ones and friends, loss of a job, natural disasters, accidents, illness, injuries, changes in personal relationships, unkind words, retirement, moving to a new community, and on and on.  We could turn to God and ask why, but that will frequently not bring us to a satisfactory answer.  We could shrug our shoulders and decide that it is just the way that it is.  Who are we to know what God has in store for us? God’s mysteries are too great for us to fathom.
 
But perhaps doing what we are all doing today, participating with other seekers to explore the nature of our lives and to imagine what we can do together to deal with the daily issues in the hope for a better tomorrow is the course that God provides.  We cannot know what God’s plans are, but with careful and thoughtful examination, we can decipher what God wants from us.  God is ready to engage whenever we are.
 
Right now, at both Trinity and St. Mary’s, we are in a period of discernment, looking at where we have been and imagining where we can head, as we search for a new rector.  It is an unsettling time, maybe for some of us, even a little like a storm.  Perhaps it would be good if we were to keep Jesus’ words from Mark in the front of us as we move forward, exploring what God holds for us in our new tomorrow:
 
“Why are you afraid?  Have you still no faith?”
Amen