Why are you so fearful? How is it that you have no faith?

On the same day, when evening had come, he said to them, "Let us cross over to the other side." Now when they had left the multitude, they took him along in the boat as he was. And other little boats were also with him. And a great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that it was already filling. But he was in the stern, asleep on a pillow. And they awoke him and said to him, "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?" Then he arose and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Peace, be still!" And the wind ceased and there was a great calm. But he said to them, "Why are you so fearful? How is it that you have no faith?" And they feared exceedingly, and said to one another, "Who can this be, that even the wind and the sea obey him!"

- Mark 4:35-41

It's interesting how the evangelist Mark gives us full days of Jesus' work and life in sequence. From the past two readings (A Sower went out to sow and If anyone has ears to hear, let him hear), we are given to understand Jesus' tireless teaching in parables to the crowds, and his explanations to his apostles and disciples in private. Now after this apparently exhausting day of teaching, they are sailing away across the Sea of Galilee.

On the same day, when evening had come, he said to them, "Let us cross over to the other side." Now when they had left the multitude, they took him along in the boat as he was. And other little boats were also with him. It is the end the day, and the beginning of another: the Jewish marking of the beginning of a new day is at sunset. It is time to go to the other side of the Lake, or the Sea of Galilee. I find it particularly charming that we are told that other little boats were also with him. With this we have a quaint picture in our minds of our Teacher, the Leader of this little group, directing where they will go and what they will do, and his disciples struggling along beside him, even in the little boats. In some sense, this is clearly a picture of a fledgling ministry and movement. It is the beginning of what will become defined as Christianity. But, as they are heading across the sea in the darkness of the evening, so is this young movement. They don't know, metaphorically, where they are headed, what dangers they will encounter at this beginning of the Church that is not yet even called a church. They are just a small group of disciples beginning that journey, and have no idea where it will lead or what is to come in this segment of their journey, this picture of the little boats on the sea in the darkness, following what Jesus has told them to do.

And a great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that it was already filling. But he was in the stern, asleep on a pillow. And the dangers do come, but Jesus is asleep in the back of the boat, on a pillow, we are told. It seems, in some sense, as if Jesus is taking it easy. He is calm and at rest in this peaceful scene of slumber on a pillow in the back of the boat. We might even wonder how the great windstorm does not wake him. Even the boat is filling up with water from the waves beating into the boat.

And they awoke him and said to him, "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?" Then he arose and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Peace, be still!" And the wind ceased and there was a great calm. It is quite a picture here -- the apostles are certain they are ready to die. "Do you not care that we are perishing?" But Jesus' demeanor is as one who is completely concerned with his mission of teaching and preaching and ministry. What does not concern him, he pays no attention to. He knows this is no danger to his mission. He rebukes the wind and calms the sea. "Peace, be still!" My study bible notes that the word for "be still" is the same Jesus has used in his first encounter with a demon in Mark's gospel, in which he commanded it to "be quiet." But there is also more to this picture. A deacon in the Armenian Apostolic Church, Dn. Shant Kazanjian, taught in a bible study I attended that the picture of the waters calmed by the voice of the Lord is a mirror of Genesis, the very beginning of the bible -- when the Spirit of the Lord hovered over the darkness of the deep. So we are to understand that this beginning movement that will become the Church, in which the twelve apostles have just been chosen, is like the beginning of Creation. Christ imposes order over chaos; in this sense it is a spiritual sign, a "type" that reflects images from the Old Testament and the history of Jewish spiritual life.

But he said to them, "Why are you so fearful? How is it that you have no faith?" And they feared exceedingly, and said to one another, "Who can this be, that even the wind and the sea obey him!" Clearly, power over nature is a sign of divinity, of Jesus' nature, and the origin of his works. But, of course, the great imprint on our minds and hearts in this story is also in its emotional nature, and Jesus' response to that. "Why are you so fearful? How is it that you have no faith?" How do we address this question of our fears and anxieties, especially at the beginning of a journey of faith into the unknown? On many levels, this story is about setting off in faith in the darkness - without knowing the outcome of the journey, just as this fledgling movement of apostles and disciples at this stage has no idea where it all will lead, while their leader is asleep in the back of the boat.

In some way, this story is also a metaphor for us and our situation as Christians or followers of Christ today. We can't walk or talk with the incarnate Jesus. The Jesus asleep in the back of the boat is, in a sense, a picture of our Lord whose return we expect and await. We are those followers who walk in faith, often in complete darkness, trusting in that word. Jesus' words, more than his miracle or sign, strike me as terribly important for us today. "Why are you so fearful? How is it that you have no faith?" And I remember that at this moment depicted in this story, those who follow Jesus in faith have no idea where it all will lead them, and what they are headed for, especially when the storms of life come up and they are threatened. But the great concern that Jesus has is for his ministry, his mission, his movement. And the storm is no threat to that.

So, when we walk through Lent at this time, how do these words apply to us? I think we -- or at least I -- spend far too much time in worry and anxiety. It is like the story Jesus tells of the lilies of the field. In faith, excessive worry or anxiety is really unnecessary, not helpful to the journey. We pray, we follow, we give a situation to God. And it all depends on our focus. Perhaps the things we worry that we need are not really what we need. Perhaps the difficulties we encounter will bring change that is not devastating, an insurmountable obstacle, but something to adapt to and to persevere within, even to accept. Our prayer life, and of course community, I find, is the answer to this anxiety. The anxiety can be a great temptation, something that works as an effort to throw us off that spiritual path. But, I have found, the prayer life that sustains me, in the end, not only leads me through the storm and winds, but in the end that faith and that calm and "peace" remains when in hindsight I understand my fears to have been what I needed to discard. As with Job, when even community cannot help me with suitable answers, my prayer life leads me through even when I am tempted sorely to doubt it! The things I thought I needed that I may have had to let go of are not the things I need for the journey of faith - and it will lead me where I need to go. This, at any rate, is my experience. We understand, of course, that the apostles will eventually leave everything behind in their lives, and they will -- most of them -- go on to martyrdom as well, to their deaths in the pursuit of the faith, their work for the kingdom. Some will not: each has their own journey in faith to assume, just as each one of us must be led on our own paths in this faith journey. I believe that in that sense, Christ will lead each of us where we need to go, and what is needed from us. But in the storms and anxieties we encounter, we may be asked to give up things we think we need, or relationships we believe we can't live without, in exchange for the journey of the spiritual life of faith. It is the anxiety itself that is the temptation on this journey, which we face as human beings, a part of our nature. As we move forward in the dark, the winds and waves and seeming threats may come. But we move on in faith through it. I say, always remember to pray. As in yesterday's reading of the parable of the seeds that grow at night while we are asleep (as Jesus is asleep in the back of the boat), spiritual growth takes place in us even as we are unaware of how it works. We just need to be receptive to the seed, and water it in faith. What anxiety can you live without this Lent?