By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, RectorA few nights ago I was in Rhode Island. I was visiting my parents, but the purpose for the visit was to be supportive of them while my mother had hip replacement surgery. The operation went well and she’s bracing herself for the difficult period of rehabilitation. The rest of us are bracing for that as well! There’s going to be a lot of shuffling around to accommodate the work of healing, but at least it’s begun. Anticipation of the event can be stress producing in one way, but when the surgery is over and it’s clear that the operation was a success, the relief that brings makes the rest of the work, as difficult as it will be, more manageable - or at least in a different and less threatening perspective.
While my mother’s surgery was elective and scheduled far in advance, we were surprised to learn that my aunt, my father’s sister, was admitted to the same hospital the same day as my mother’s surgery. Her health had been bad for quite some time and at 88 years of age, she was declining. Still, the timing seemed surreal to have my mother on one floor and my aunt on the next. My father, brother, and I went into my aunt’s room while waiting for my mother to come out of recovery and the situation looked very bad. With my cousin’s permission, I gave my aunt last rites and in fact, later that evening she died.
I was sad for my cousin and for the long road of care she had given to her mother. As her primary care giver for a number of years, there was the bitter sweet emotions of seeing her mother at peace finally and yet the pain of the sense of loss. I felt sad for my father, not even being able to imagine the emotions swirling around having his wife in pain on one floor and his sister dying of the other. My aunt and cousin are virtually strangers to me since they moved away from Rhode Island decades ago and the communication was sparse. But she and my cousin returned to Rhode Island a couple years ago to be near her brothers at the close of her life. It was a gift to all of them.
The next night as I was going to bed I could feel that familiar air pressure indicating that rain would soon be with us. Not much later I saw a flash of light and then heard the loud crack of thunder. The storm was quick and passed into the night, either that or I fell asleep feeling safe in doors.
When I read the Gospel lesson about the storm swirling about the disciples while they rowed on the sea, my mind drifted to the kinds of storms I’d just lived through. It’s not difficult to imagine the fear that comes from anticipating major surgery as a storm, or knowing that recuperation will be long and painful, or the emotions that rise in seeing loved ones in pain and feeling helpless.
The storm surrounding my mother’s surgery was inevitable, but still had a sense of planning and at least not being taken by surprise. There’s a certain amount of preparation that can take place. The storm still comes, but precautions were taken.
The storm surrounding my aunt was not totally unexpected, but still had an element of surprise. We fool ourselves to say that we are prepared for someone’s death if they’ve been ill. Expectation and preparation are not always the same and the severity of some storms still comes as a surprise even when they are predicted.
I thought of the readings as well. David entered a storm, but his was neither inevitable or a surprise. He created his. In next week’s reading, this story continues and we’ll see the consequences of David’s actions and the storm will really break. But again, he ignored the sense of righteousness he required of others and created the chaos that was soon to hit.
In the Gospel story, Jesus walked over the stormy sea to his disciples and told them not to be afraid. He himself seemed unaffected by the storm, yet entered into the storm experienced by the disciples. In all the cases of the storms I’ve mentioned, God was present and it helped calm the storm. With my family, prayer helped. Prior to the surgery, my parents, brother and I prayed. I should say that other than grace at meals, we are not accustomed to praying together and any self consciousness was swept away by the urgency of the situation. I find the same is true in other situations. People who are uncomfortable with prayer, become very comfortable when it addresses their pain. Inviting God in at times of need does help. Each of us in that prayer circle were going to be affected in ways that were both similar and different, and each of us was strengthened to face our particular challenges. When it came time later that day to give my aunt last rites, another circle formed around her bed and again, inviting God to come into that quiet storm helped.
Issues and challenges don’t disappear through prayer, but God does calm the storm. The disciples still had to row the rest of the way. Jesus didn’t give them a motor for their boat, just quieted the wind so they could finish rowing. They still had work to do, as did each of us in the hospital that day, even as David did in the events that unfolded after his affair with Bathsheba.
In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul prayed that they would be "...strengthened in (their) inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in (their) hearts through faith, as (they were) being rooted and grounded in love."
He also wrote, " I pray that you..know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with the fullness of God." David created his own storm and in our sense of fairness deserved the trouble he later got, and one might also argue that he didn’t deserve to have God’s love enter his storm and forgive him.
But that’s the point. God’s love is deeper than we can imagine and enters into storms that we didn’t create and those that we did.
Part of the healing that occurs in any of the events is offering our prayer to others that are in the same storms. The love of God is not only available to us through direct prayer, but also reflected through us and others in the prayer we offer one another. The love of God is experienced in the ways we reach out to each other to help in times of need. For every tragedy and storm in my life, part of the healing comes when I identify with someone going through similar pain and share with them what I’ve learned or experienced. Every ordeal we’ve been through can leave us stronger, and that strength will help us later on. It will also help someone who is feeling weak in their own crisis and storm.
The first part of the Gospel lesson is the familiar feeding of the multitudes with a few loaves and fish. Even if we think what we offer isn’t enough for a task that seems daunting, God can make it enough and more than that, God can make it abundant.
Storms will come. Of that there is no doubt. Storms in the weather and storms in our lives. In all of them God is near and coming to us in its midst. Fear not. Amen.
©2009 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ
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