Proper 7 | Ordinary Time 12
Preaching
Lectionary Preaching Workbook
Series VIII, Cycle B
Revised Common
1 Samuel 17:(1a, 4-11, 19-23) 32-49 or 1 Samuel 17:57--18:5, 10-16
2 Corinthians 6:1-13
Mark 4:35-41
Roman Catholic
Job 38:1, 8-11
2 Corinthians 5:14-17
Mark 4:35-41
Episcopal
Job 38:1-11, 16-18
2 Corinthians 5:14-21
Mark 4:34-41 (5:1-20)
Theme For The Day
The presence of Jesus is sufficient to conquer our fears.
Old Testament Lesson
1 Samuel 17:(1a, 4-11, 19-23) 32-49
David Slays Goliath
Despite its gory details, this story is a favorite of children -- and no wonder. The image of young David standing up against the fearsome giant Goliath, then slaying him with a single, well-aimed stone flung from his sling, has become a byword for the victory of good over evil, no matter what the power differential may be. Because the story is so lengthy, the lectionary provides an edited version. The heart of the story, however, is in verses 32-49. Some of the most colorful description is found in the optional section, verses 4-11, as Goliath's stature and armor are described in detail, and as he issues his taunting challenge to the Israelites. Verses 17-18, omitted from both the shorter and longer lectionary versions, contain the important narrative detail that David is not apparently intended for the battle at all: his father Jesse has sent him on a mission to bring food supplies to his brothers. David has been ordered to carry cheese to the front, not to engage the enemy. The omitted section from verses 24-31 tells how David (a political natural) works the crowd. It then provides a psychologically true-to-life description of sibling rivalry between Eliab and his younger brother. In the section beginning with verse 32, we hear of David's offer to Saul to become Israel's champion and fight Goliath himself. The feisty David boasts of his prowess with the sling, and more than that, about how the Lord has made his stones effective, in the past, against many a wild beast. Saul, who flatly refuses David's request at first, is inexplicably convinced by this logic -- particularly by what David says about the Lord's guidance and protection -- and relents. Verses 38-39 provide the homey, almost comical detail of how the diminutive David cannot fit into the king's armor, and so decides to take the field without it. David is armored not in bronze, but in virtue and in the fear of the Lord. Against the taunts of the mighty Philistine, David speaks of the true armament he has at his disposal: "You come to me with sword and spear and javelin; but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied" (v. 45). After more tough talk -- reminiscent of the pre-match "trash talk" of certain professional wrestlers -- David quickly sends his stone flying toward the giant's forehead, felling him with one precise blow. David is the only character in this story who mentions the name of the Lord; the others are all depending on their own devices. David goes into battle equipped with little more than his total reliance on divine providence, and he prevails.
Alternate Old Testament Lesson
1 Samuel 17:57--18:5, 10-16
David And Jonathan Conspire Against Saul
An alternate lesson takes up the story just after the death of Goliath. Abner, Saul's general, brings David into the royal presence. Despite the story in 16:14-23 of David's having consoled Saul in his madness by playing the lyre, Saul does not know the young man; and even now, David somewhat coyly does not share his name, saying only that he is one of Jesse's sons. In 18:1 we learn of the close friendship that develops between David and Saul's son Jonathan. "Then Jonathan made a covenant with David, because he loved him as his own soul. Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that he was wearing, and gave it to David, and his armor, and even his sword and his bow and his belt" (vv. 3-4). This is the beginning of an implicit alliance between David and Jonathan against Saul. David ends up being so successful as a military leader that Saul promotes him to commander of his army (v. 5). Omitted from this lectionary selection is the taunting song of the Israelite women, "Saul has killed his thousands, and David his ten thousands" (v. 7), as well as the ominous observation that, as a result of his growing jealousy, "Saul eyed David from that day on" (v. 9). The second portion of this lectionary reading tells how Saul, in a fit of madness, tries to kill David with his spear (vv. 10-16). But even so, Saul is not able to remove him totally from military command, because of David's great popularity with the people.
New Testament Lesson
2 Corinthians 6:1-13
Now Is The Acceptable Time
See the description of 2 Corinthians 5:20b--6:10 for Ash Wednesday (p. 75).
The Gospel
Mark 4:35-41
Jesus Stills The Storm
In this passage, attested to also in the other synoptic gospels (Matthew 8:23-27; Luke 8:22-25), Jesus and his disciples set off across the Sea of Galilee by boat, accompanied by some other boats as well (although these other boats are never mentioned again). Jesus falls asleep on a cushion at the rear of the boat. A sudden storm arises, but Jesus continues sleeping soundly. The disciples awaken him, saying, "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?" (v. 38b). Jesus awakens, rebukes the wind and the waves, and suddenly all is calm. Jesus gently chides his followers, saying, "Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?" Filled with awe they ask one another, "Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?" (vv. 39-40). "Faith" can mean many things, but in this passage it clearly means trust: Jesus is encouraging his followers not so much to believe in a doctrine, as to trust in a person. In the midst of life's storms, that sort of faith is a lifeline. The viewpoint from which one views this story is crucial to its meaning: looking on it theologically, from afar -- as simply a miracle story demonstrating Jesus' power over the natural world (and particularly the primeval forces of chaos) -- is one thing. Looking at it personally -- from the standpoint of the terrified disciples, cowering on the floorboards of a wave-tossed fishing boat -- is quite another.
Preaching Possibilities
If there's one thing all of us have in common, it's fear. To be afraid is to be human.
Fear isn't necessarily a bad thing. It protects us from many things that would harm us. Fear is a word of warning when danger is near. Yet fear can also be unhealthy. If a person is out for a walk, it may make sense to look furtively around for snakes -- if the person happens to be strolling through the Amazon rain forest. Yet, if that same person is plagued with the idea of snakes in a North American living room, then something is terribly wrong.
Snake phobias aside, we're living in a fearful age. Any minister or counselor can readily attest that a great many people today are living lives that are fear-ridden. The fears of today are many: illness such as AIDS or cancer, terrorism, ecological disaster resulting from the hole in the ozone, overpopulation, death, being overwhelmed by debt, intimacy, loneliness, failure, or loss of love.
Today's Gospel Lesson deals rather frankly with this whole matter of fear. On the surface, it seems little more than a miracle story. Jesus is asleep in a boat; a storm comes up, and the disciples get worried; Jesus wakes up and calms the storm. This story elicits feelings of disbelief in many of us -- as well it should. It seems to be an act of magic. The rational side of our nature wants to cry out, "It was only a coincidence -- the storm was about over anyway!" Sometimes, though, in reading the Bible, it pays to suspend our disbelief, in order to see what the story is saying on a deeper level. This is one of those times.
On one level, this is the story of a gale at sea. That's common enough for anybody who lives by water, but it is also more than that, theologically speaking. For most first-century Jews, that sort of storm would have been the very incarnation of fear. Remember some of the ways the Old Testament talks of the sea -- in the creation story, how "waters covered the face of the deep," the waters of chaos. God vanquishes the Egyptians by calling down the waters of the Red Sea upon them. "Deep calls to deep, in the thunder of your cataracts," the psalmist cries out to God (42:7); and then there is the image of the fearsome sea monster Leviathan, who inhabits the ocean depths.
This story offers three easy points of entry for us: the three questions that are asked in it. Two of these questions are asked by the disciples, and one by Jesus. Each of them has a point of contact with our lives.
Question number one: "Do you not care?" That's the question many of us may have asked God, in times of personal struggle. It's the question that even the atheist in trouble hurls into the depths of the cosmos: "Do you not care?" It's the question we wish we could ask our fellow human beings more often, in times of trial -- but it's hard even to utter the words. In times of pain -- mourning a loved one, putting the pieces together after a divorce, facing the cold terror of unemployment -- in such times, when everyone else's life seems to be going well, and ours feels like a shambles, it's hard to ask even a friend, "Do you care? Do you care about me?"
To the disciples, it's incomprehensible that Jesus could be sleeping during the storm. So they come out with their haunting question -- as haunting as the question of Sam Adams in the Broadway musical 1776, fearful that he's promoting the American Revolution all by himself: "Is anybody there? Does anybody care? Does anybody see what I see?"
Jesus never answers the disciples' question -- not in words, anyway. His answer is to turn to the waves and the wind and say, "Peace! Be still."
Question number two: "Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?" Of our three questions, this is the one Jesus asks. He does not ask it until after the "dead calm" has descended over the Sea of Galilee. Jesus could have shouted the question through the deafening wind, but he chooses to wait until the storm's fury is over. Jesus could well ask the same question of us -- either amidst the gales and tempests of our lives, or after their fury is spent. "Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?" The question is somehow more compelling after the storm.
All of us have had the experience of feeling paralyzed by a fear, rational or irrational, and then having that fear suddenly calmed. As soon as the storm is over, we feel a bit silly. The goblin wasn't real. "It was only a dream," we say, upon awaking, sweaty and clammy-skinned, from a nightmare. The beast came from within ourselves.
Neurotic fears usually have self-interest of some sort at their root. The way to deal with them is to seek out the root cause, naming it for what it is. It is only within ourselves that many of our fears become real, finding flesh to cover their hideous bones -- yet although they are born within our very selves, they are still real enough to terrify. "Have we still no faith?"
Question number three: "Who then is this, that even the wind and the waves obey him?" For the Hebrew mind, this is an amazing question. The wind and the sea are the primeval forces of chaos. Jesus commands even these!
Mark's story establishes Jesus as a man of great power. The story has the format and structure of an exorcism -- Mark's first-century readers would have recognized immediately that Jesus is exorcising storm-demons. Yet to many of us, the winds and sea within ourselves are as chaotic as any storm on the sea. The pains left over from childhood, the insecurities, the doubts, the outbursts of temper we can hardly control, the compulsion to gossip, to run others down, to distrust even our friends -- the sad list goes on and on, the pathetic catalogue of all the hobgoblins within ourselves.
To all these, Jesus Christ has the power to say, "Peace! Be still." And then you and I may wonder, "Who is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?" Fear has been transformed into awe. The terror of the night has become the righteous fear of God.
Prayer For The Day
I have a sinne of feare, that when I have spunne
My last thred, I shall perish on the shore;
Sweare by thy selfe, that at my death thy sonne
Shall shine as he shines now, and heretofore;
And, having done that, Thou hast done,
I feare no more.
-- John Donne, "A Hymne To God the Father," III, in Complete Poetry Selected Prose (London: Nonesuch, 1946), p. 322
To Illustrate
Psalm 107 vividly recounts the terror of the sea:
Some went down to the sea in ships,
doing business on the mighty waters;
they saw the deeds of the Lord,
his wondrous works in the deep.
For he commanded and raised the stormy wind,
which lifted up the waves of the sea.
They mounted up to heaven, they went down to the depths;
their courage melted away in their calamity;
they reeled and staggered like drunkards,
and were at their wits' end.
Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,
and he brought them out from their distress;
He made the storm be still,
and the waves of the sea were hushed.
Then they were glad because they had quiet,
and he brought them to their desired haven.
***
Martin Luther King, Jr., used to prepare his people for civil disobedience -- for beatings and jail, or whatever needed to be endured -- by speaking about faith and fear. Fear, not doubt, is the opposite of faith, King used to tell them: fear is the one power that can neutralize faith -- if we let it.
***
As an inscription above the door of an ancient English public-house reads, with all the brevity of a fortune-cookie saying: "Fear knocked on the door. Faith answered. No one was there."
***
I don't gather that God wants us to pretend our fear doesn't exist, to deny it, or eviscerate it. Fear is a reminder that we are creatures -- fragile, vulnerable, totally dependent on God. But fear shouldn't dominate or control or define us. Rather, it should submit to faith and love. Otherwise, fear can make us unbelieving, slavish, and inhuman. I have seen that struggle: containing my fear, rejecting its rule, recognizing that it saw only appearances, while faith and love saw substance, saw reality, saw God's bailiwick, so to speak: "Take courage, it is I. Do not be afraid!"
-- Philip Berrigan
***
Perhaps no one in our lifetime scaled and conquered the walls of hostility more heroically than Martin Luther King, Jr., and though the hostility of hatred took his life, the power of his love defied that hatred. His dream has given life and justice and strength to a whole generation of Americans -- black and white alike.
In an unpublished sermon, King recalls the early days when he was first catapulted into the civil rights crusade. At the tender age of 26, he felt unprepared, scared, powerless. Already the threats were coming in. He was harassed and jailed for going thirty miles an hour in a twenty-five mile zone. And one night around midnight, while his wife and young daughter slept a few feet away, Martin received a phone call.
It was the Klan calling: "N____, we are tired of you and your mess now ... And if you aren't out of this town in three days, we're going to blow your brains out, and blow up your house."
In a sermon, King reflected on that night:
I sat at that table thinking about that little girl and about a dedicated, devoted and loyal wife ... and I got to the point that I couldn't take it any longer. I was weak ... And I discovered then that religion had to become real to me, and I had to know God for myself. And I bowed down over that cup of coffee. I never will forget it ... I prayed a prayer, and I prayed out loud that night. I said, "Lord, I'm down here trying to do what's right. I think I'm right. I think the cause that we represent is right. But Lord I must confess that I'm weak now. I'm faltering. I'm losing my courage ... And it seemed at that moment that I could hear an inner voice saying to me, 'Martin, stand up for righteousness. Stand up for justice. Stand up for truth. And lo I will be with you, even until the end of the world.' " ... I heard the voice of Jesus saying still to fight on. He promised never to leave me, never to leave me alone. No, never alone. No, never alone. He promised never to leave me, never to leave me alone.
Sure enough, three nights later a bomb was thrown on the front porch of the King home. Though there was smoke and broken glass, miraculously -- providentially -- no one was injured. Hostility was to follow King throughout the rest of his life. But he refused to retaliate. He refused to build walls of hatred. Instead, the faith that poured into his heart that dark, lonely night gave him the peace of Christ -- a painful peace that sustained him even in the ugliest times.
-- Susan R. Andrews, Moderator, 215th General Assembly, Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), "Conflict Management 101," A sermon preached at Bradley Hills Church, Bethesda, Maryland, July 21, 2003. From Perspectives, the electronic magazine of the Office of the General Assembly, PC (USA)
***
One of the legendary football coaches of the early twentieth century was Knute Rockne, coach of the "Fighting Irish" of Notre Dame University. One day, Notre Dame was preparing to play USC, and the coach was aware that his undefeated opponents had a far better team. He happened upon a plan to defeat USC by guile (what he did was legal under the college football regulations of that time, but would not be so today). Rockne sent his assistant coaches out into the city of South Bend and had them bring back 100 of the largest men he could find. He had them suit up in Notre Dame uniforms, and at game time had them run out onto the field ahead of the real team. Although none of these giants ever left the bench during the game, their mere appearance at the beginning was enough. The USC opponents were so rattled that they played a terrible game, and Notre Dame won.
Fear is in our minds.
1 Samuel 17:(1a, 4-11, 19-23) 32-49 or 1 Samuel 17:57--18:5, 10-16
2 Corinthians 6:1-13
Mark 4:35-41
Roman Catholic
Job 38:1, 8-11
2 Corinthians 5:14-17
Mark 4:35-41
Episcopal
Job 38:1-11, 16-18
2 Corinthians 5:14-21
Mark 4:34-41 (5:1-20)
Theme For The Day
The presence of Jesus is sufficient to conquer our fears.
Old Testament Lesson
1 Samuel 17:(1a, 4-11, 19-23) 32-49
David Slays Goliath
Despite its gory details, this story is a favorite of children -- and no wonder. The image of young David standing up against the fearsome giant Goliath, then slaying him with a single, well-aimed stone flung from his sling, has become a byword for the victory of good over evil, no matter what the power differential may be. Because the story is so lengthy, the lectionary provides an edited version. The heart of the story, however, is in verses 32-49. Some of the most colorful description is found in the optional section, verses 4-11, as Goliath's stature and armor are described in detail, and as he issues his taunting challenge to the Israelites. Verses 17-18, omitted from both the shorter and longer lectionary versions, contain the important narrative detail that David is not apparently intended for the battle at all: his father Jesse has sent him on a mission to bring food supplies to his brothers. David has been ordered to carry cheese to the front, not to engage the enemy. The omitted section from verses 24-31 tells how David (a political natural) works the crowd. It then provides a psychologically true-to-life description of sibling rivalry between Eliab and his younger brother. In the section beginning with verse 32, we hear of David's offer to Saul to become Israel's champion and fight Goliath himself. The feisty David boasts of his prowess with the sling, and more than that, about how the Lord has made his stones effective, in the past, against many a wild beast. Saul, who flatly refuses David's request at first, is inexplicably convinced by this logic -- particularly by what David says about the Lord's guidance and protection -- and relents. Verses 38-39 provide the homey, almost comical detail of how the diminutive David cannot fit into the king's armor, and so decides to take the field without it. David is armored not in bronze, but in virtue and in the fear of the Lord. Against the taunts of the mighty Philistine, David speaks of the true armament he has at his disposal: "You come to me with sword and spear and javelin; but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied" (v. 45). After more tough talk -- reminiscent of the pre-match "trash talk" of certain professional wrestlers -- David quickly sends his stone flying toward the giant's forehead, felling him with one precise blow. David is the only character in this story who mentions the name of the Lord; the others are all depending on their own devices. David goes into battle equipped with little more than his total reliance on divine providence, and he prevails.
Alternate Old Testament Lesson
1 Samuel 17:57--18:5, 10-16
David And Jonathan Conspire Against Saul
An alternate lesson takes up the story just after the death of Goliath. Abner, Saul's general, brings David into the royal presence. Despite the story in 16:14-23 of David's having consoled Saul in his madness by playing the lyre, Saul does not know the young man; and even now, David somewhat coyly does not share his name, saying only that he is one of Jesse's sons. In 18:1 we learn of the close friendship that develops between David and Saul's son Jonathan. "Then Jonathan made a covenant with David, because he loved him as his own soul. Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that he was wearing, and gave it to David, and his armor, and even his sword and his bow and his belt" (vv. 3-4). This is the beginning of an implicit alliance between David and Jonathan against Saul. David ends up being so successful as a military leader that Saul promotes him to commander of his army (v. 5). Omitted from this lectionary selection is the taunting song of the Israelite women, "Saul has killed his thousands, and David his ten thousands" (v. 7), as well as the ominous observation that, as a result of his growing jealousy, "Saul eyed David from that day on" (v. 9). The second portion of this lectionary reading tells how Saul, in a fit of madness, tries to kill David with his spear (vv. 10-16). But even so, Saul is not able to remove him totally from military command, because of David's great popularity with the people.
New Testament Lesson
2 Corinthians 6:1-13
Now Is The Acceptable Time
See the description of 2 Corinthians 5:20b--6:10 for Ash Wednesday (p. 75).
The Gospel
Mark 4:35-41
Jesus Stills The Storm
In this passage, attested to also in the other synoptic gospels (Matthew 8:23-27; Luke 8:22-25), Jesus and his disciples set off across the Sea of Galilee by boat, accompanied by some other boats as well (although these other boats are never mentioned again). Jesus falls asleep on a cushion at the rear of the boat. A sudden storm arises, but Jesus continues sleeping soundly. The disciples awaken him, saying, "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?" (v. 38b). Jesus awakens, rebukes the wind and the waves, and suddenly all is calm. Jesus gently chides his followers, saying, "Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?" Filled with awe they ask one another, "Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?" (vv. 39-40). "Faith" can mean many things, but in this passage it clearly means trust: Jesus is encouraging his followers not so much to believe in a doctrine, as to trust in a person. In the midst of life's storms, that sort of faith is a lifeline. The viewpoint from which one views this story is crucial to its meaning: looking on it theologically, from afar -- as simply a miracle story demonstrating Jesus' power over the natural world (and particularly the primeval forces of chaos) -- is one thing. Looking at it personally -- from the standpoint of the terrified disciples, cowering on the floorboards of a wave-tossed fishing boat -- is quite another.
Preaching Possibilities
If there's one thing all of us have in common, it's fear. To be afraid is to be human.
Fear isn't necessarily a bad thing. It protects us from many things that would harm us. Fear is a word of warning when danger is near. Yet fear can also be unhealthy. If a person is out for a walk, it may make sense to look furtively around for snakes -- if the person happens to be strolling through the Amazon rain forest. Yet, if that same person is plagued with the idea of snakes in a North American living room, then something is terribly wrong.
Snake phobias aside, we're living in a fearful age. Any minister or counselor can readily attest that a great many people today are living lives that are fear-ridden. The fears of today are many: illness such as AIDS or cancer, terrorism, ecological disaster resulting from the hole in the ozone, overpopulation, death, being overwhelmed by debt, intimacy, loneliness, failure, or loss of love.
Today's Gospel Lesson deals rather frankly with this whole matter of fear. On the surface, it seems little more than a miracle story. Jesus is asleep in a boat; a storm comes up, and the disciples get worried; Jesus wakes up and calms the storm. This story elicits feelings of disbelief in many of us -- as well it should. It seems to be an act of magic. The rational side of our nature wants to cry out, "It was only a coincidence -- the storm was about over anyway!" Sometimes, though, in reading the Bible, it pays to suspend our disbelief, in order to see what the story is saying on a deeper level. This is one of those times.
On one level, this is the story of a gale at sea. That's common enough for anybody who lives by water, but it is also more than that, theologically speaking. For most first-century Jews, that sort of storm would have been the very incarnation of fear. Remember some of the ways the Old Testament talks of the sea -- in the creation story, how "waters covered the face of the deep," the waters of chaos. God vanquishes the Egyptians by calling down the waters of the Red Sea upon them. "Deep calls to deep, in the thunder of your cataracts," the psalmist cries out to God (42:7); and then there is the image of the fearsome sea monster Leviathan, who inhabits the ocean depths.
This story offers three easy points of entry for us: the three questions that are asked in it. Two of these questions are asked by the disciples, and one by Jesus. Each of them has a point of contact with our lives.
Question number one: "Do you not care?" That's the question many of us may have asked God, in times of personal struggle. It's the question that even the atheist in trouble hurls into the depths of the cosmos: "Do you not care?" It's the question we wish we could ask our fellow human beings more often, in times of trial -- but it's hard even to utter the words. In times of pain -- mourning a loved one, putting the pieces together after a divorce, facing the cold terror of unemployment -- in such times, when everyone else's life seems to be going well, and ours feels like a shambles, it's hard to ask even a friend, "Do you care? Do you care about me?"
To the disciples, it's incomprehensible that Jesus could be sleeping during the storm. So they come out with their haunting question -- as haunting as the question of Sam Adams in the Broadway musical 1776, fearful that he's promoting the American Revolution all by himself: "Is anybody there? Does anybody care? Does anybody see what I see?"
Jesus never answers the disciples' question -- not in words, anyway. His answer is to turn to the waves and the wind and say, "Peace! Be still."
Question number two: "Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?" Of our three questions, this is the one Jesus asks. He does not ask it until after the "dead calm" has descended over the Sea of Galilee. Jesus could have shouted the question through the deafening wind, but he chooses to wait until the storm's fury is over. Jesus could well ask the same question of us -- either amidst the gales and tempests of our lives, or after their fury is spent. "Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?" The question is somehow more compelling after the storm.
All of us have had the experience of feeling paralyzed by a fear, rational or irrational, and then having that fear suddenly calmed. As soon as the storm is over, we feel a bit silly. The goblin wasn't real. "It was only a dream," we say, upon awaking, sweaty and clammy-skinned, from a nightmare. The beast came from within ourselves.
Neurotic fears usually have self-interest of some sort at their root. The way to deal with them is to seek out the root cause, naming it for what it is. It is only within ourselves that many of our fears become real, finding flesh to cover their hideous bones -- yet although they are born within our very selves, they are still real enough to terrify. "Have we still no faith?"
Question number three: "Who then is this, that even the wind and the waves obey him?" For the Hebrew mind, this is an amazing question. The wind and the sea are the primeval forces of chaos. Jesus commands even these!
Mark's story establishes Jesus as a man of great power. The story has the format and structure of an exorcism -- Mark's first-century readers would have recognized immediately that Jesus is exorcising storm-demons. Yet to many of us, the winds and sea within ourselves are as chaotic as any storm on the sea. The pains left over from childhood, the insecurities, the doubts, the outbursts of temper we can hardly control, the compulsion to gossip, to run others down, to distrust even our friends -- the sad list goes on and on, the pathetic catalogue of all the hobgoblins within ourselves.
To all these, Jesus Christ has the power to say, "Peace! Be still." And then you and I may wonder, "Who is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?" Fear has been transformed into awe. The terror of the night has become the righteous fear of God.
Prayer For The Day
I have a sinne of feare, that when I have spunne
My last thred, I shall perish on the shore;
Sweare by thy selfe, that at my death thy sonne
Shall shine as he shines now, and heretofore;
And, having done that, Thou hast done,
I feare no more.
-- John Donne, "A Hymne To God the Father," III, in Complete Poetry Selected Prose (London: Nonesuch, 1946), p. 322
To Illustrate
Psalm 107 vividly recounts the terror of the sea:
Some went down to the sea in ships,
doing business on the mighty waters;
they saw the deeds of the Lord,
his wondrous works in the deep.
For he commanded and raised the stormy wind,
which lifted up the waves of the sea.
They mounted up to heaven, they went down to the depths;
their courage melted away in their calamity;
they reeled and staggered like drunkards,
and were at their wits' end.
Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,
and he brought them out from their distress;
He made the storm be still,
and the waves of the sea were hushed.
Then they were glad because they had quiet,
and he brought them to their desired haven.
***
Martin Luther King, Jr., used to prepare his people for civil disobedience -- for beatings and jail, or whatever needed to be endured -- by speaking about faith and fear. Fear, not doubt, is the opposite of faith, King used to tell them: fear is the one power that can neutralize faith -- if we let it.
***
As an inscription above the door of an ancient English public-house reads, with all the brevity of a fortune-cookie saying: "Fear knocked on the door. Faith answered. No one was there."
***
I don't gather that God wants us to pretend our fear doesn't exist, to deny it, or eviscerate it. Fear is a reminder that we are creatures -- fragile, vulnerable, totally dependent on God. But fear shouldn't dominate or control or define us. Rather, it should submit to faith and love. Otherwise, fear can make us unbelieving, slavish, and inhuman. I have seen that struggle: containing my fear, rejecting its rule, recognizing that it saw only appearances, while faith and love saw substance, saw reality, saw God's bailiwick, so to speak: "Take courage, it is I. Do not be afraid!"
-- Philip Berrigan
***
Perhaps no one in our lifetime scaled and conquered the walls of hostility more heroically than Martin Luther King, Jr., and though the hostility of hatred took his life, the power of his love defied that hatred. His dream has given life and justice and strength to a whole generation of Americans -- black and white alike.
In an unpublished sermon, King recalls the early days when he was first catapulted into the civil rights crusade. At the tender age of 26, he felt unprepared, scared, powerless. Already the threats were coming in. He was harassed and jailed for going thirty miles an hour in a twenty-five mile zone. And one night around midnight, while his wife and young daughter slept a few feet away, Martin received a phone call.
It was the Klan calling: "N____, we are tired of you and your mess now ... And if you aren't out of this town in three days, we're going to blow your brains out, and blow up your house."
In a sermon, King reflected on that night:
I sat at that table thinking about that little girl and about a dedicated, devoted and loyal wife ... and I got to the point that I couldn't take it any longer. I was weak ... And I discovered then that religion had to become real to me, and I had to know God for myself. And I bowed down over that cup of coffee. I never will forget it ... I prayed a prayer, and I prayed out loud that night. I said, "Lord, I'm down here trying to do what's right. I think I'm right. I think the cause that we represent is right. But Lord I must confess that I'm weak now. I'm faltering. I'm losing my courage ... And it seemed at that moment that I could hear an inner voice saying to me, 'Martin, stand up for righteousness. Stand up for justice. Stand up for truth. And lo I will be with you, even until the end of the world.' " ... I heard the voice of Jesus saying still to fight on. He promised never to leave me, never to leave me alone. No, never alone. No, never alone. He promised never to leave me, never to leave me alone.
Sure enough, three nights later a bomb was thrown on the front porch of the King home. Though there was smoke and broken glass, miraculously -- providentially -- no one was injured. Hostility was to follow King throughout the rest of his life. But he refused to retaliate. He refused to build walls of hatred. Instead, the faith that poured into his heart that dark, lonely night gave him the peace of Christ -- a painful peace that sustained him even in the ugliest times.
-- Susan R. Andrews, Moderator, 215th General Assembly, Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), "Conflict Management 101," A sermon preached at Bradley Hills Church, Bethesda, Maryland, July 21, 2003. From Perspectives, the electronic magazine of the Office of the General Assembly, PC (USA)
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One of the legendary football coaches of the early twentieth century was Knute Rockne, coach of the "Fighting Irish" of Notre Dame University. One day, Notre Dame was preparing to play USC, and the coach was aware that his undefeated opponents had a far better team. He happened upon a plan to defeat USC by guile (what he did was legal under the college football regulations of that time, but would not be so today). Rockne sent his assistant coaches out into the city of South Bend and had them bring back 100 of the largest men he could find. He had them suit up in Notre Dame uniforms, and at game time had them run out onto the field ahead of the real team. Although none of these giants ever left the bench during the game, their mere appearance at the beginning was enough. The USC opponents were so rattled that they played a terrible game, and Notre Dame won.
Fear is in our minds.
