On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, “Let us go across to the other side.” And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. 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?” And waking up, he rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Be silent! Be still!” Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. He said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” And they were filled with great fear and said to one another, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” – Mark 4:35-41
I get where the disciples are coming from in this text. With all the turmoil, the fear, and the overwhelming dread and fear that is be fomented by our President and his slew of executive orders, many of which are threatening to upend much in our lives, it feels like the storm is upon us and the boat is taking on water.
For those who are in marginalized groups, whether they are Black, Indigenous, People of Color (BIPoC) or whether they are part of the LGBTQ+ community or any other threatened group, there is a great deal of dread over the marginalization that is a natural outflowing of the tenets of Christian Nationalism and the extreme right that seem to be dominating our national policy, if not outright destroying key aspects of our democracy.
The storm is raging, and the boat is taking on water. And we look to the One who is sent to save us, and he is asleep in the bow of the boat. I’m unsure what sleep looks like in a boat that is taking on water while being battered by the storm, but there is this almost eerie sense of calm about this One. When he awakens, he seems almost irritated that we awakened him for this emergency.
No sooner than he calms the seas, he turns to us and says, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”
But wait! Do we really have the capacity to do what Jesus did? Do we have the capacity to calm the stormy seas? Do we have the capacity to practice that kind of calm when our minds and our bodies are experiencing outright panic? What exactly is this faith that Jesus expects of his followers?
Since the first of the year, I have returned to a spiritual practice known as Centering Prayer. I use an app to guide me, and each day, there are options as to what Opening Prayer/Reading and what Closing Prayer/Reading will be part of the exercise. Then during the quiet time (known as the “sit” in contemplative practice), I am asked to choose a sacred word on which to focus.
The word I chose today was “calm.” This week, I received a request from one of the members of my flock who is personally threatened by these early executive orders. She was petitioning me to write something that would offer a word of hope even as she and so many others are experiencing panic in this time. That was what led to reflect on the word: Calm
Calm Is Not Denial
This calm is not a denial of the storm that swirls around us. It is not a denial of the panic that is fostered by fear or threat. Calm is the capacity to center ourselves right in the midst of the storm and somehow trust that the One who commands the wind and the waves is right here with us. It is to know that we are not alone and that we shall overcome … yes, even this storm.
How might I approach this turbulent, chaotic time if I believed that Jesus was within arms reach? How might we speak to the chaos and disorder all around us and command it to be still?
No, it doesn’t mean that we magically gain control over the oppressors or those perpetuating the harm. It doesn’t mean that the oppression immediately ceases. It does mean that, when we find our center and stand on the firm foundation on which Jesus stood, we will discover that we are not alone in the boat and that, through faith, we can weather any storm.
Calm as Nonviolent Resistance
When I think of resistance, I have this visceral reaction that feels like I should fight … fight with everything I’ve got. Yet this is not the way of nonviolence. The kind of calm that Jesus brought to his followers was not built on avoidance. Jesus continued to face his oppressors and enemies, yet he did so calmly. He was not anxious or afraid. Yes, he had his moment in the garden when he wished that the cup would pass from him, but then he calmly stood and walked with the soldiers who would lead him to his execution.
In the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5, Jesus talks about how to respond to oppression. “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you: Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also, and if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, give your coat as well, and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. Give to the one who asks of you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you. (Matthew 5:38-42)
This is a subversive calmness. Walter Wink in a beautiful essay on The Third Way, offers us a way of seeing how turning our left cheek after having been struck on the right is to demand that we be treated as an equal without striking back. To give our coat after having been stripped of our shirt is to be naked (when we only wear two garments), which would mean that the person taking our shirt would be humiliated by our own nakedness. To go the second mile, according to Roman military law, would place the solder whose pack you were carrying in serious trouble with his superiors.
It is a calmness, says Wink, that is neither passive nor violent … it is a calmness that is a third way of being in the world.
So maybe that’s where Jesus is as he sleeps in the boat in the midst of the storm. He is neither afraid nor violent, he is practicing a centered calm that becomes then the calmness to which his followers are called.
It is that calmness that is born of a faith that, when the storms are tough, God is, in fact, right there with us. All we have to do is calmly reach out our hand to the One who saves, and we, too, will be those who then turn to calm the seas in the midst of the storm.