The other morning, I
was lying in bed trying to convince myself to get up and get on with my day,
but instead I picked up a book lying at my bedside and spent a little time
reading. I read a quotation from the former Scottish Episcopalian Bishop
Richard Holloway’s memoirs “Leaving Alexandria” – a book I’ve quoted from
previously.
As Holloway looked
back and attempted to summarize his faith journey and all of the struggles he
had faced and endured he observed:
I am tugged still by the possibility of the transcendent.
But only
whispers and tugs; nothing louder or more violent.
Religion’s
insecurity makes it shout NOT whisper, strike with the
fist in the face
not tug gently with the fingers on the sleeve. Yet,
beneath the
shouting and the striking, the whisper can sometimes
be heard. And
from a great way off, the tiny figure of Jesus can be
seen on the
seashore, kindling a fire. (p. 348 Leaving Alexandria)
Jesus can be seen on
the seashore, kindling a fire … as I read that last sentence the thought
occurred to me that Holloway has inadvertently reframed our approach and our
enquiries about the Resurrection, our relationship with God as a people of the
Resurrection.
Jesus first
resurrection appearances to the disciples following his death were NOT
grandiose and traumatic affairs. They were quiet, startling moments that could
easily be overlooked and missed …
First in an upper
room, he appears with the words “Shalom Alekum” – Peace be with you … then he
appears to the disciples as they walk along the valley road from Emmaus to
Jerusalem and is recognized in the breaking of the bread … and then, in his
last appearances, after the disciples had fled back to Galilee, Jesus appears
to them on the shore tending a fire and offering them broiled fish …
No bright flashing
lights. No thunderous approaches. No legions of angels and heavenly messengers.
Just Jesus appearing and offering a flickering glimpse of the Holy real and
present in our midst …
That image of Jesus
sitting on a lakeshore tending a fire, waiting is compelling. And it does
remind us of that tension between the insecurity of religion and its desire for
certainty and control – and the vagaries of faith that depend and indeed grow
from places of questioning, doubt and uncertainty …
The dogma of faith
and religion demands belief in particular words and phrases and ideals … while
the reality of faith stands in a place of uncertainty and fear and asks the big
questions of life into the vast reaches of the cosmos and listens for the
whisper that offers an answer …
A whisper that could
easily be lost amid the din …
Mother Theresa once
said that not all of us can do great things, but ALL of us can do small things
with great love …she understood what it meant and what it means to hear and
heed that faint whisper.
David standing on the
battlefield about to face the mighty Goliath abandoned the certainty of the
armour and the security of the best military weaponry available, and instead
stood with a handful of smooth stones picked from a nearby stream bed, and a
leather sling … can you imagine even for a moment what must have been rolling
through David’s mind in that moment as Goliath lumbered his way closer and closer
across the battlefield?
The future of the
Israelite people depended on this little shepherd boy and his sling … no doubt
many of the soldiers and officers behind David were already scoping out the
landscaped and figuring out the best and fastest way to make their escape when
David was annihilated at the hands of Goliath. They were in a place of fear … a
place of outright terror at the prospects of this little unarmed boy standing
against the mighty armed and ARMOURED warrior.
Yet, when the stone
was tossed it was a mighty hit that brought the warrior down … the image I
conjure up when I picture this scene is Goliath laughing at the prospect of
facing this boy. His head is still tipped back and he is laughing uproariously
at the absurdity of a tiny fragile and unarmed boy standing against him the
mightiest warrior in the world.
Yet in mid-laughter
the resounding ‘thunk’ of the rock brought him down … the whisper was heard …
From uncertainty and
fear, David and the rest of the Israelite army moved to a place of celebration
and faithful certainty.
This is played out in
our Gospel reading too as the disciples face the storm on the Sea of Galilee
and marvel at Jesus’ ability to sleep through it … they are terrified that the
vessel will be swamped and they will surely perish in the waters – and yet, Jesus
is fast asleep in the bow of the boat oblivious to the dangers.
And then they wake
him he no doubt stretches, yawns and looks about at the raging see and the
driving wind before simply uttering the words: “Peace, be still …”
And even the wind and
waves obey him!!
The whisper was heard
…
As people of faith –
followers of Christ – the Body of Christ incarnate in the world – the question
hangs – how do we find that place of peace and security in a world that so
often – really, TOO often – offers anything but THAT.
And to my thinking,
that is where those quiet whispers and tugs that Holloway speaks of come into
play …
The resurrected Jesus
sits quietly on the beach of a sea, tending a fire, waiting … waiting for us to
find him … waiting for us to join him … waiting for us to realize that God
offers certainty not in places of power and control, but in those moments when
we stand with our knees knocking in fear and we suddenly feel the presence of
the Holy, and we KNOW that we are not alone.
The mistake we too
often make is trying to control that experience. We want to protect it and keep
it safe, so we set up rules and restrictions and we limit access through dogma
and belief … we buy into the insecurity that Holloway eluded to – we shout
about how right we are – we cajole and intimidate what one should believe – and
too often we DO punch people in the face in a fool-hearty attempt to convince
and convert them … and all the while, the BEST example is the quiet one that
brings about profound and reality altering transformation.
David quietly went
into battle knowing that everyone shared his fear and trepidation … Jesus awoke
on the storm tossed vessel knowing his disciples were terrified … and in both
cases, the transformation came suddenly and unexpectedly.
Like a quiet whisper.
Any unexpected
outcome that transformed the moment of fear into a moment of faith.
Peace. Be still –
spoke Jesus and the storm ceased.
A simple smooth stone
hurled through the air and the battle ceased.
Where in our lives do
we find that sudden moments when we discover that holy transformation that
moves us from fear to faith … from uncertainty and doubt to a place where we
KNOW we are a beloved Child of God and we are not alone?
That’s the amazing
power of our faith. It’s not the big grandiose moments with light and sound and
angels … but it’s that quieter moment when we turn a corner and we literally
find Jesus sitting at the lakeshore tending a fire and inviting us to join him.
I remember as I moved
through the process of discernment, training and education that lead to my
ordination, feeling badly because I couldn’t point to a dramatic moment when my
“Call” to ministry was received. There were no divine lights, or heavenly
voices, or mystic visions … just a quiet nudging from deep within. A series of
prayers offered at crucial times leaving things in God’s hands and trusting in
God for the outcome …
Was it the right
path? Was I really called?
There are those in
Church circles who would howl “Nnnnooooo!” and say I shouldn’t be in ministry …
but I only know that for myself, I find myself often in that quiet place where
I feel like I’m sitting by the fire with Jesus on the shore of a lake, and I
KNOW in the core of my being that I was called to this, and over time, one
quiet prayer at a time my path lead me here …
Our task then, as
evangelists called to go out into the world and to share the Good News, is not
about winning the masses through loud grandiose festivals of faith. But rather,
our call is to go into the world, and quietly – like a gentle whisper that can so
easily be ignored – to share our faith one action, one prayer, one gesture, one
thought at a time …
It was Margaret Mead
who offered what has become one of my favourite quotations – she said that we
should never underestimate the power of small committed groups of people to
change the world – indeed, it is all that ever have … when we heed that whisper
and let it wash over us – we are allowing those small things to make a
difference – we’re sharing the great love we have within us, and bringing about
the change we seek in the world … it’s not the big grandiose things that make a
difference and change reality for the better – it’s the small actions offered
day by day.
We are called to
quietly live out our faith sharing the Good News by embodying it without
fanfare or majestic happenings – following the lead of the resurrected Jesus
who simply sat by a fire on the shore of a beach and waited for his disciples,
his circle of family and friends – to discover him, and to join him …
Let us go into the
world to listen to the whisper, and to pass it on to others … May it be so – thanks
be to God … Let us pray …
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