A Homily for the Fifth Sunday After Pentecost and for the Baptism of Darius Axel Weekes-Shaw. Preached at All Saints, Collingwood, Anglican Diocese of Toronto, June 23, 2024. Texts: 1 Samuel 17:(1A, 4-11, 19-23) 32-49; Psalm 9:9-20 2 Corinthians 6:1-13; Mark 4:35-41
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?” (Mk 4.38)
A beautiful and historic church burns down, and we wonder if there will ever be funds, or parishioners to replace it. We feel like saying "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”
A person we love dearly has a terrible accident, or announces that they have a terminal illness. Meanwhile we are acutely aware of our own again bodies failing us. We feel like saying, "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”
We hear news of nuclear threats, of new waves of refugees and racism, of political violence, and a steadily and scarily heating planet, and we feel like saying "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”
We can all relate to the frightened disciples in today’s gospel. Our collect today stated this reality when it said that “storms rage about us and cause us to be afraid”. When I was learning to paddle, my instructor told us “stay in the canoe and all will be well”, which is good advice except that the storm is raging and the boat is filling with water.
So we turn to the guy in the stern and he’s not paddling, he’s not bailing, he’s just sleeping. "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”
Well, the good news is that the guy in the stern does care, and he will save us, because we’re not just in any boat, we’re in his boat, which just happens to look like a church. As you may have learned in confirmation class, the long centre part of the church, with all the pews, is called the nave, from the Latin word navis meaning ship.
Ancient church preachers loved to note how the church saves us in the same way that the ark saved Noah and his family, or the reed basket saved Noah.
None of the disciples with Jesus that day knew what a personal floatation device was, unless it was a floating plank. Today we don’t dare go boating unless we have a PFD, for fear that the police marine patrol will ticket us, or worse.
Well, you all have a spiritual PFD, though you can’t see it. It’s that cross that the priest drew on your forehead when you were baptized, to mark you as Christ’s own forever. Christ’s own need not be afraid. Our Lord who sleeps, trusting in his Father, was also given a voice to calm storms, to silence demons, and to call the dead back to life.
Yes, storms and water can be scary. Poor Darius will discover that when we splash him with water in a few minutes. But after today, in whatever storms of life he will face, Darius will have Jesus at his side. If he is taught to trust and to listen, he will hear the voice of Jesus, calling to him gently, telling him that he is God’s beloved child.
When he is afraid and troubled, he will hear that voice, loud and commanding, telling the storm to be still.
When he has wandered far and ashamed, may he hear that voice, s[-eaking words of forgiveness and welcoming him home.
And finally, may he, along with all of us, hear Jesus telling him to wake and rise, to greet the day on which the sun will never set.
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