Preached on the Fifth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 7B), June 23, 2024, at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Seattle, Washington by The Reverend Jay Rozendaal.
1 Samuel 17:57-18:5, 10-16
Psalm 133
2 Corinthians 6:1-13
Mark 4:35-41
Over the years, some of you have undoubtedly heard me talk about my biggest challenge in preaching - actually both challenge and gift.
At my field placement in seminary, any Sunday I was assigned to preach, I had to send the Rector a single sentence summarizing what I would say in my homily. He would listen to my sermon, expecting that everything I said would be directed to making that point.
It was a gift, because it really did help me to keep my thoughts focused and clear and not rambling or self-indulgent.
The problem for me became that once I’ve condensed the message to a single sentence…why do I need to keep talking for ten minutes?!
But then, on a rare occasion, I come to a day like today, when I just want to say everything.
For two reasons -
First, the readings are wonderful and there are so many interesting details to explore.
Second, because - as Father Stephen noted in this week’s newsletter, “Many of our older adults [I think I have to include myself in that group now…] have recently been doing serious discernment, reflecting on their shifting callings…”
Indeed, I have been doing that for some time now… And without much emotional or spiritual fanfare, it finally came to me this spring that it is time for me to step away from my role as Priest Associate in this community.
A few words about that before I get back to… we’ll see whether it’s “the point” or “saying everything.”
As many of you know, I have divided my time between Seattle and Bellingham for many years - and while my husband and I also had an apartment here for a number of years before the pandemic, we don’t now and our real HOME is in Bellingham.
But for a long time St. Paul’s in Bellingham was a place I didn’t really feel comfortable - for reasons I don’t need to get into - but I’m happy to say that has shifted in the last couple years.
And the pandemic also contributed to my simply wanting to spend more of my time closer to home - and I am doing that.
I was so grateful to be involved here during the pandemic and through the transition between rectors… and now here we are, here you are - capably and energetically led by Father Stephen… and it’s time for me to see how God may be calling me to be of service in the place where I actually live, and where I now happily spend most of my time.
So I need to make space for that - it’s hard for God to call me to something when there’s no time or place for it to bear fruit.
Clarity in discernment sometimes comes like a flash of light knocking us off our horse in mid-journey - like it did for St. Paul.
This discernment, however, came to me (like I think it does for most people, most of the time) slowly, over a few years, and as I said, without fanfare.
I think of the work of discernment as the task of faithful decision-making. Today’s gospel is an apt reflection on that work. The story begins with Jesus’ invitation to “go across to the other side” - and they set out on a journey. As in today’s gospel, the journey is sometimes a stormy one.
There are some bits in this story that strike me as curious…
Why do they set out “when evening had come”? Why would they want to be sailing in the dark?
And then when the storm overwhelms them the disciples wake up Jesus just to say “don’t you care?” They don’t actually ask him to do anything… they seem only to want him to be as panicked as they are! (And maybe help bailing out the water that’s filling the boat.)
And also, they don’t ask for a miracle - but they get one anyway.
Discernment, faithful decision making, can often feel like traveling in the dark, when you can’t see clearly either where you are or where you’re going. It can feel lonely - like you’re doing all the work, trying to keep the boat on course, trying to bail out water and keep the boat upright… while a key member of your support system is asleep in the back. You’re exploring all the questions… and God is keeping quiet, seemingly asleep, biding Her time.
It’s also interesting to me that after Jesus quiets the storm, he asks them “have you still no faith?” Almost as if they should have known to expect a miracle, or even ask for one. “Why are you in a panic, instead of just trusting in God?”
I’m sure if he had asked that question directly the answer would have had something to do with the cumulative expertise of the fishermen in the boat, and their knowledge of how wrong things can go under those circumstances. And that they’d never previously seen such a situation have a miraculous ending!
As an allegory of discernment the story certainly suggests that dark & stormy crossings aren’t particularly unusual, and that it’s not particularly unusual, somewhere along the way, to feel like our spiritual boat is sinking…
So while we may not expect miracles, the message here is clearly that we also don’t need to panic. The Teacher - leader, companion, friend, Son of God - in the back of the boat is not oblivious to what’s going on.
Really, in this moment, Jesus is the model of faith to us. He trusts that his competent companions, with God’s help, actually have the situation well in hand. He knows they will arrive safely on the other side.
So too in our various journeys in and through life - stormy or not - we can (in the words of today’s collect) rely “upon the sure foundation of [God’s] loving-kindness.”
Which brings me to the last things I really want to say today (short of “saying everything.”)
Also in this week’s newsletter - Father Stephen invited us to discern “what is the gospel, the Good News, according to You?”.
Having arrived at “the sure foundation of God’s loving-kindness”…
“The gospel according to Jay” is about Love.
Any of you who have been around here a little while, at some time will have seen me up here, or at the altar, or sitting out there in a pew, with tears in my eyes.
If you wondered why…
It’s about Love.
I find the miracle of God’s unfathomable, at times inexplicable, Love for us truly overwhelming at times.
And when I see and hear that reflected in words and music, in scripture and sacrament, in the beauty that surrounds us, in the relationships nurtured here, in this Body of Christ…
I am filled with awe, that simply spills out of my eyes and runs down my cheeks.
“God is Love” scripture tells us; and “love is the fulfilling of the law;” and “we love because God loved us first…” Love of God and neighbor is the “first and greatest commandment…”
And week after week, the Eucharistic Prayer reminds us, “in your infinite love you made us”….
I believe that Love is the essence of God’s image and likeness in which we are made. That it is the divine nature shared with us - with all of humanity - in creation, and renewed in us through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
And finally today, it is why I trust my relationship with this community is not over. This journey will continue - changed, not ended.
It is the sure foundation of God’s boundless, astonishing, loving-kindness that makes it certain that it will endure.