Homily, The Face of Jesus
The Fifth Sunday after the Pentecost, Proper 7B, 2024
Good Shepherd Episcopal Church
Tequesta, FL
The Rev. Derek M Larson, TSSF
Today’s Lectionary Readings:
1 Samuel 17: (1a, 4-11, 19-23), 32-49
Psalm 9:9-20
2 Corinthians 6:1-13
Mark 4:35-41
In the name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
I have never been on a boat at sea in the middle of a severe storm. But I have been on a plane in the air in the middle of moderate turbulence. That’s not the same at all is it? But if you’re a nervous flyer like me, than perhaps there is at least a glimpse of overlap.
I remember years ago LauraAnn and I were flying to Portland, OR to visit some family and friends when we hit a bad batch of turbulence. It was bad enough that I think I physically flew off the seat at one point and I knew right then and there that I had reached the last moments of my life. LauraAnn was sitting in another part of the plane, and so I put on some headphones, turned on my favorite songs, and prayed to God in gratitude for the life that I had lived, desperately grasping for peace in the midst of my fear. Well, as you can see we made it through that flight, and as LauraAnn and I met back up coming off the plane she walks up to me with a big smile on her face, “Wasn’t that fun?!” She had been laughing in glee the whole time.
I’ve since learned a trick to help calm me down when I’m flying. I look at the faces of the flight attendants. Do you know what I’m talking about? Anytime I feel some turbulence or hear a weird noise, I look at the faces of the flight attendants. If they still look like they are daydreaming about the end of their shift, then I’m okay! If they’re not worried, I don’t need to be worried.
We often measure our fear that way don’t we? It’s one thing to be afraid all alone, it’s another when you can look upon the face of someone with you, particularly when they have the confidence that you lack.
Earlier this week, our family was out on the sandbar swimming and exploring and having a good time when our little 2 year old, Alaster, tripped in the water and started screaming. We pulled him up out of the water and found that his legs were covered in blood. Quickly we looked him over and found a small cut on the bottom of his foot, which stopped bleeding within a minute or so after we cleaned him up. But for a moment, I looked over to find our older son with a face of fear for his little brother, but as he looked up at me and our eyes connected and I reassured him that it was just a small cut, he immediately relaxed.
The faces of others comfort us.
In today’s gospel reading we encounter the disciples in a boat at sea in the middle of a storm, and they are terrified. The waves are crashing into the boat so much so they are worried about sinking. Many of them were experienced fishermen and knew how to handle situations like this, and yet it was so bad, even they were afraid. And so they went looking for Jesus, and where did they find him? Asleep! Asleep at the back of the boat!
How could he be sleeping? How could their experience of the same moment be so vastly different from Jesus’? The disciples are crying out in desperation; Jesus is asleep. You can see why they sound frustrated with Jesus, “Do you not care that we are perishing?” But it’s not that Jesus doesn’t care, he just knows that all shall be well. He’s not afraid. The moment is not as desperate as it looks. And if the disciples had used my little trick for flying, then maybe they wouldn’t be so afraid either. If they had simply looked at Jesus’ face in the midst of their fear, then maybe their hearts would have been calmed even before Jesus spoke peace over the storm.
But that’s not what happened. Their eyes were on the storm. They clung to their fear. Even after Jesus had calmed the storm, the passage says they were filled with fear. Our translation uses the word “awe,” but that’s really a poor translation which attempts to soften the language. A direct translation of the Greek is really more like “they were filled with great fear.” In the storm, they were afraid; after the storm, they were afraid.
Fear is a hard thing to give up. It holds our attention when things get bad, and it holds our attention when things are just fine. How many of you have ever been afraid of something, or worried about something that hasn’t even happened? Or that happened a long time ago? Or when you know that things will be alright? We tend to think of fear as something that is prompted by external circumstances, something in the world around us, and often that is true. But when it comes down to it, fear is actually within us. In this story, the disciples are afraid, even when the sea is calmed; and Jesus is not afraid, even when the sea is in chaos. Fear is not as tied to our external circumstances as we think. No, fear has to do with where we place our attention.
Fear feeds on attention. As long as our attention is placed on the “what-ifs” and the “what-nows” and the uncertainties and the insecurities and the worries and the anxieties, we will feed our fears. But what happens if we turn our attention elsewhere? What happens if we turn our attention to a peace which passes understanding? To a complete joy? To the abiding presence of God? What happens if we turn our attention from the crashing waves to the face of Jesus who sails with us through the storm? Well, then he begins to calm our fears like he calmed the waters.
Now I don’t mean to be trite. And I don’t mean to be overly simplistic. The practice of turning our attention to the peace of God within is a practice that takes time to develop. As someone who struggles with fear and anxiety, I know there are all kinds of reasons why our minds pull our attention from one fear to another, and even the disciples in this story don’t experience peace as quickly as the storm was calmed. But if we slowly cultivate the practice of turning our attention from our fear to Jesus, then we will begin to feel his words wash over us, “Peace! Be still!”
So what do you fear? What throws your heart and mind into chaos like turbulence on a plane or waves on the sea? What keeps you up at night?
Imagine with me you are in the boat with Jesus. The waves are crashing around you demanding your attention. But turn and look at the face of Jesus. Does he look afraid? Then you’ll be okay. Amen.
Resources for Further Reflection
Song: Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus
If I were a baptist or pentecostal preacher, this is the song I’d ask the band to play at the altar call after the homily (and Shane and Shane do it so well!). It preaches the message much better than I have. I like to listen to this song while praying with an icon of Jesus, and looking upon his face. Perhaps it will help calm your fears as it has mine.
Alongside of the text of this homily, I’ve posted pictures from one of my favorite children’s Bibles, Moments with Jesus. What is unique about this Bible (and it is NOT just for children) is that it tells the story in the second person as an imagined, meditative experience and includes reflection questions. Plus the illustrations are beautifully fantastic! In the book’s telling of Jesus calming the storm, it invites the reader to imagine what it would have been like to be on the boat. It also asks these two sets of questions: (1) Have you ever felt as scared as the disciples in the storm? What made you afraid? and (2) Picture that scary moment in your imagination, but this time picture Jesus there with you. Is He scared? What is He doing? What is He saying? How do you feel about that situation now that He’s there with you? I highly recommend the book for your family!
Thoughts on Faith 