There a wonderful story told by comedian Bill Cosby where Noah is given instructions by God on building an Ark. It starts off with Noah hearing God telling him to build an ark giving him the dimensions in cubits – so many cubits long – so many cubits wide and then to go and gather in all the animals two by two… A somewhat reluctant Noah complains that he is tired of all the work and he is especially tired of all the gossip in the neighborhood about the ark in his driveway with not a cloud in sight.. The final straw seems to be when Noah has to clean up the mess in the bowels of the Ark and he questions God about “who’s going to clean up that mess… have you been down there lately?” and then we hear a clap of thunder and these words “ You and me God, right… you and me?”

In today’s Gospel the Disciples are in a boat that is caught in a storm on the                                                    Sea of Galilee, a.k.a the Sea of Genesaret, Lake of Kinneret or Sea of Tiberia - which is actually a rather shallow lake about 13 miles long and 8 miles wide. . To appreciate this ancient Biblical text it helps to know a little of the overall arrangement of Mark's narrative.  If you recall, unlike the other Gospels, Mark ends with Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Salome coming to the tomb, finding the stone rolled away. They run away for “terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone for they were afraid.”

In other words Mark does not have post-resurrection stories that tell of Jesus with the disciples before his ascension.

Not too different from today’s Lesson. We are told that the disciples were afraid, filled with terror and instead of “not telling anyone”. Mark inserts the rebuke by Jesus not only of the waves that swamp the boat, but also of the disciples for their lack of faith…

Mark was the earliest and his the oldest of the four Gospels written sometime around 60 AD, about the time that the Roman occupation had had enough of  “Hamas” and other extremist groups. Rome had decided to end Jewish extremists' constant harassment of their troops by destroying their most holy place of worship. It was during that turbulent time that Mark wrote his account of the life of Jesus.

Mark, rather than having post-resurrection stories decided to weave the resurrection stories back into the over-all narrative of Jesus’ life. According to Henry Brinton, a Presbyterian minister and scholar whose writings have appeared in The Washington Post and USA Today, the stilling of the storm is the first of Mark’s resurrection accounts. Early on in Christianity, this story became a symbol of the Christian Church; a boat, with a cross for a mast, sailing through the storms of life. As a matter of fact the logo for the National Council of Churches has the boat with a cross as its logo.

But this story is more than a symbol for the church. It is also a statement about Jesus. Jesus is shaken awake from his nap . . . probably feeling a little cranky – children when roused from deep sleep cry, grownups get cranky. In Mark’s gospel the boat and the storm-tossed disciples becomes a symbol of the early Christian community; the fledgling Church in turbulent times. The dynamics of life and death, faith and fear are .held in dynamic tension.  Six times in Mark's Gospel the disciples are “seized by fear.” Mark tells us that Jesus gets up from sleep Kataeudown.  Sleep is often used  in the Greek NT as a code word for death.  Jesus rebukes the wind with “PEPIMOSO” (be muzzled), which is translated “be still.”

The same Gk. word is used by Jesus when he tells the unclean spirit to “be still and come out of him” in an earlier story (Mk.1.25)… “Be muzzled” I like that word…

I can think of a few times when I would like to use that word with a few folk..

The theme of God’s power over the chaos and the elements of nature is a recurring one in both the old and new Testament… In Genesis we read of God’s Spirit moving over the face of the deep and the wind of God sweeping over the face of the waters. Elijah heard the word of God as a still small voice in the silence following the fury of the wind outside the cave where he was hiding out.  In the OT reading for today God answers Job out of the whirlwind (vs. 38.1).

It was in the cacophony of the wind and fire that the Church was born on Pentecost, as the Wind of God blew into the hearts of those gathered in the upper room.

“Peace, be still and the wind stopped and there was a dead calm.” Dead calm suggests a void emptiness. It is in the emptiness that we hear the questions.

“Why are you afraid?”

“Have you still no faith?"

And for a second time Mark tells us that they were filled with great fear. The first time was when the waves swamped into the boat and now a different sort of storm was swamping into their lives. Like those First-century disciples caught in a storm either on the Sea of Galilee or in the cross-hairs between Jewish Zealots and Roman soldiers. The Spirit of God asks us too, why are you afraid?

Have you still no faith?

All this time you have been with me and do you still not understand? 

That is the question isn’t it? Preachers are supposed to explain God's ways to others. Mark tells us stories of the risen Christ remembering the earthly Christ. He weaves stories of the Easter Christ into his Gospel narrative.

Sister Carol Bieleck wrote this poem in which she gives us a parable a new birth where we are no longer "good neighbors the sea and I.”

She writes of a death as she yields to the sea, and the sea she speaks of is less made of water than the flow of blood… flowing like an open wound. And I thought of flight and I thought of drowning and I thought of death. Listen -

I built my house by the sea.

Not on the sands, mind you;

not on the shifting sand.

And I built it of rock.

A strong house

by a strong sea.

And we got well acquainted, the sea and I.

Good neighbors.

Not that we spoke much.

We met in silences.

Respectful, keeping our distance,

but looking our thoughts across the fence of sand.

Always, the fence of sand our barrier,

always, the sand between.

And then one day,

-and I still don’t know how it happened

the sea came.

Without warning.

Without welcome, even

Not sudden and swift, but a shifting across the sand like wine,

less like the flow of water than the flow of blood.

Slow, but coming.

Slow, but flowing like an open wound.

And I thought of flight and I thought of drowning and I thought of death.

And while I thought the sea crept higher, till it reached my door.

And I knew, then, there was neither flight, nor death, nor drowning.

That when the sea comes calling, you stop being neighbors,

Well acquainted, friendly-at-a-distance neighbors,

And you give your house for a coral castle,

And you learn to breathe underwater.

I’ll give you my take on this story from Mark. It is human to be afraid of Storms.. be they storms out in the bay or on  a lake in the first century of the Church…be they Hurricanes or Tornadoes… or be they the storms of life’s vicissitudes;

like being a Democrat in a Republican neighborhood or vice versa.. or turning 65 and being told that Medicare is no longer solvent or being homeless and having no place to go for help, except Family Promise …

Or being told that the lump in your breast is malignant and you need to see a surgeon or being a Pastor in the NE and finding that redeveloping an aging congregation in the Twenty-first Century is much more challenging than being a pastor-developer in the Bible Belt in the 80’s.. You get my drift?

I have already been drowned once and it wasn’t all that bad. My mother and father carried me to the water of baptism and I was reborn a Christian. Now all I need to do is nothing, but hold on and breathe under water.

Amen