Praise You In This Storm

Dangerous storms have taken hold of many parts of the United States this week. Tornadoes, flooding, and high winds are causing destruction, injury, and even death for thousands of people. Very real storms of life are raging around them.

In places not affected by dangerous weather conditions, storms are still raging. This week, someone has received a diagnosis that will change their life. Another is in the throes of depression. Still others are facing prejudice and discrimination for their skin color, gender, or sexual identity. These are not storms of the natural world, yet they are equally as real and frightening. In fact, all three storms I mentioned above are storms raging right now in the lives of people close to me.

“When the storms of life are raging, stand by me,” wrote the great hymn writer Charles Tindley in 1906. “When the world is tossing me, like a ship upon the sea, thou who rulest wind and water, stand by me.”

These physical and metaphorical storms remind me of the two stories in the Gospel of Matthew where Jesus calms a storm. The first, in Matthew 8:23-27, tells of terrified disciples in the midst of a great windstorm. In their fear, they wake up a sleeping Jesus, who immediately calms the disciples and the storm.

The second story, in Matthew 14:22-33, is much different. The storm arises without Jesus in the boat. But in the midst of the storm, Jesus walks on the water toward the boat, encouraging them to “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” Then Peter, one of the disciples, begins to courageously walk out on the water towards Jesus. After a few steps, his fear returns, and he starts to sink. Jesus pulls him out of the waves and helps him into the boat. Only then does the storm subside.

These stories are similar in many ways, but you may have noticed one key difference. In the first story, Jesus immediately calms the storm. In the second, the storm continues to rage on even after Jesus appears, and only after Peter’s time of faith and fear, of walking and sinking, do the wind and waves become calm.

What this means is that sometimes Jesus sees us struggling in the storms of life, and immediately takes those storms away. But other times, when the storms of life are raging, Jesus simply stands by us. He does not take the storms away, but instead catches us as he caught Peter, just before we sink completely into chaotic waters.

Of course, we’d prefer to always be rescued from storms. But that is not always what happens. Sometimes storms last for a long time, and while they rage on, Jesus is there not to calm the storm, but to calm us and make sure we don’t sink while the storm continues. Our response is to cling tightly to God, and if we are able, to praise God in the storm. If the storms of life are raging, there is a God who stands by you. Praise be to God the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer who stands by.

Doing God's Will

[Jesus said,] “What do you think? A man had two sons; he went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’ He answered, ‘I will not’; but later he changed his mind and went. The father went to the second and said the same; and he answered, ‘I go, sir’; but he did not go. Which of the two did the will of his father?” They said, “The first.” (Matthew 21:28-31a)

In the weeks leading up to Super Bowl XL in 2006, Seattle Seahawks tight end Jerramy Stevens did what he always did: he talked a big game. In fact, he was so confident that he practically guaranteed that his team would beat the Steelers on Sunday. Stevens became the center of attention on Super Bowl Media Day.

Steelers fans know how that worked out for Stevens and his Seahawks. They would lose Super Bowl XL by a final score of 21-10. And while Stevens caught the only touchdown pass for the Seahawks, he also dropped several passes in key moments. His performance, and that of his team, did not live up to his pre-game comments. That day, the world discovered that Jerramy Stevens’ bark was worse than his bite.

Everyone knows how to talk a big game. We all make predictions and promises, and tell people what we are going to do. But do we always live up to the hype? Do we always live as we say we will?

I usually start my day with prayer and devotional reading. In that time, I am trying to connect with God and prepare to do God’s will that day. On good days, I follow through. I live like a disciple, following the command to love God and love others.

But I also have days where my bark is bigger than my bite. Like the second son in Jesus’ parable, I tell God all the things I will do in God’s name, but my actions tell a different story. I gossip. I complain. I fail to show compassion to others. Simply put, I don’t do what I said I was going to do.

What is God asking you to do today? How is God asking you to live? It is easy to say we’ll live as God wants us to. But saying we will do something and actually doing what we promise to do are two different things. Will you do the will of God today?

Father, Forgive

When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” - Luke 23:33-34

Several years ago, the bishop took me and the rest of my ordination class on a Wesleyan Heritage Tour of England. Much of the trip included stops rich with Wesleyan and Methodist history: Epworth, Port of Pill, Bristol, and London. But other parts of our trip were not connected to our heritage as Methodists at all. One such place was Coventry Cathedral.

Coventry Cathedral, like many European cathedrals, sits on a hill in the center of the City of Coventry. On November 14, 1940, this city was blitzed by German forces and almost completely destroyed. The Cathedral itself was hollowed out by the bombs, and only a shell of the outer walls and the spire, or tower, remained.

In the face of such devastating damage to their beloved Cathedral, the congregation had two choices: knock down all signs of destruction and rebuild on site, or leave the remains as a memorial and build a new cathedral on the adjacent lot. They chose the latter, and to this day the remains of the old cathedral stand as a memorial to the destruction of the Second World War, not only in Coventry but in many parts of the world. Here are pictures of the old and new Coventry Cathedral:

 

What’s most amazing, however, is not the congregation’s decision to rebuild. It was the decision to inscribe two words on the wall behind the altar of the old cathedral, two words that remain there today: “Father, Forgive.”

“Father, Forgive.” These two words have a lot of power, don’t they? They were the words of the broken people of Coventry in 1940, and they are the words of Jesus as he hung on the cross. “Father, Forgive.”

But it is not the words themselves that are powerful. The full weight of these words comes from the context in which they are spoken. Here are people whose city had been basically obliterated, countless lives lost, and their beautiful cathedral reduced to rubble. If there were ever a time when anger at an enemy was justified, this was it. What did the people of Coventry do to deserve this? What senseless violence, destroying historic buildings and taking thousands of civilian lives! They had every right to be angry at the Germans and at anyone else responsible for this destruction!

Yet the response, at least of this congregation, was not white-hot anger. Maybe it was how they wanted to respond. But they didn’t. Instead, they took the time to inscribe “Father, Forgive.” The didn't pass a resolution at a board meeting, they didn't put up a temporary sign. They chiseled away stone until the words formed: "Father, Forgive."

You know, there are times in our lives when we are completely justified in our anger. Someone does something to us or to someone we love, and we have every right to be ticked off, every right to be upset. When enemies attack us today, we are raging mad. For instance:

1.     The anger we felt after 9/11 was justified – there’s nothing wrong with being incensed at such senseless violence and innocent lives lost. We were justified in being angry. But then as Christians, we remember those two words: “Father, Forgive.”

2.     When I was in school and a friend of mine was the victim of sexual assault, I was so angry I wanted to scream. I punched a pillow so I wouldn’t punch the guy who did this to her. Even today, I cannot help but shake in anger when talking about it. I was justified in my anger, but instead of enacting retribution, I muttered under my breath, “Father, Forgive.” I said it to myself for days, weeks, months, as long as it took for me to start believing these two words I was saying.

3.     Just a couple of weeks ago, I heard a Christian make an incredibly racist comment about friends of mine – a comment so ignorant and so vile that I cannot even bring myself to repeat it. And my goodness was I angry. Oh, I was so stinkin’ mad that I wanted to yell and scream and say hateful things back to this person, so they would know how it felt. But instead, I took a deep breath, and another, and another, until I was able to mutter with clenched teeth: “Father, Forgive.”

“Father, forgive.” Jesus was perfect and blameless, and had done nothing to deserve the gruesome death of crucifixion. If he wanted to be angry in that moment, no one would have blamed him. Yet from the cross – as he hung on the cross! – he did not let anger get the best of him. He may have indeed been angry at them. He could have cursed the people killing him. He could have bragged about the resurrection to come. He could’ve said, “You will rue the day you killed me!” That's probably what I would've wanted to say if I were him. But he said none of this. What Jesus said was this:

“Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” 

Father, forgive our enemies, for they do not know what they are doing. Father, forgive terrorists, for they do not know what they are doing. Father, forgive perpetrators of sexual assault, for they do not know what they are doing. Father, forgive those who speak the language of hate, for they do not know what they are doing. Father, forgive anyone who harms another person with word or deed, or enacts any kind of evil, for they do not know what they are doing.

These are not easy words to say. It is much easier to react in anger, especially when we have every right to be angry. But the way of Christ rises above such retribution and revenge. The way of Christ calls us to a higher standard. The way of Christ is to look at our enemies, even as they hurt us, and pray:

“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing. Amen."