All right, Jesus. We’re getting through a global pandemic. Never saw it coming, and when we did, couldn’t imagine it would be as bad as it has been. It’s not over either. Variants show up everywhere insidiously taking people out. In all it’s done, it still leaves the big question: Where was/is God in all of this? You going to answer this one or pretend it even happened?

Likely there won’t be a celestial press release or righteous white paper or holy judicial ruling giving an answer or defense of the coronavirus pandemic of 2020. Demand what you will, but God doesn’t have a history of giving all the answers, particularly ones that bring full satisfaction or justification of what has happened. For the most part, it’s not in the divine play book. Sorry.

What we do have is a report of what people experienced who were close to Jesus, part of his inner circle. The thing is, Jesus didn’t give them all the answers either. Whether it was in his stories, his very succinct yet broad teachings, or just in the background of the action, Jesus more often than not left it to them to tease the meaning out of it. Rest assured, it’s never simple.  Like this one about the storm.

Why Was Jesus in the Boat?

You could look at this on the surface. Jesus had been teaching to a crowd so large, so pressing upon him, he needed something from which to speak so all could hear. The boat was positioned in the water like a podium, and the rising hills behind the setting formed a kind of amphitheater with natural acoustics. By the end of the day, he was worn out and needed an escape so he could rest. He tells his friends to set sail for the other side of the lake. Easy getaway.

That’s plausible, but there are a few other details needing notice. One is the timing. It’s night, and the lake was known for unexpected gale winds coming up unforeseen until they were right on you. His buddies were experienced fishermen who should have known better, but they go. Strangely, there are other boats that follow.

The other is also understandable but has another detail that’s somewhat out of place. With all the demands made on him, Jesus is beyond tired, weary, exhausted. He falls asleep. Ok, but the writer points out there was a cushion for his head. A cushion? This wasn’t a cruise liner, for goodness sakes. It was a working boat, not a rest home. Never mind, Jesus conks out, like he’s dead to the world.

Finally, look where this boat was headed, “the other side of the lake.” Oh dear Jesus, but this is crossing a boundary we don’t need to approach. Those people are not our kind in religion, race, ethnicity. Lump them together in one word: Gentiles. Why head in that direction? Why would we want to be among them?

Don’t You Even Care…?

“Soon a fierce storm arose.” Translations belie the impact. The Greek word is “megas” as in a mega-storm, violent, exceedingly powerful, no-way-you’re-going-to-live-through-this kind of fierce storm. Waves filled the boat until it was nearly swamped. Can you believe it though, Jesus slept through? Yep, like nothing was going on except for the rocking of a boat like it was a cradle.

The disciples wake up Jesus, but not just to make him aware of what’s going on. It’s with an accusation, “Don’t you even care…?” Don’t you care we are going down? Don’t you care about us? Don’t you care for your own life? What’s with you, Jesus? Wake up to what’s happening!

Some would say these guys doubted Jesus by this statement, as in what exactly are we to you when the storms of life threaten us, when push comes to shove? Are we so expendable that you would sleep, not have a concern in all of creation as to what might happen to us? Are we that inconsequential to you in the big scheme of whatever life means? Don’t you care?

Or did the fact they called out to him have within it something else? Was there a belief that when all else is lost, God can step in? Then again, they still addressed him at a time like this as “Rabbi”, Teacher, that is. Did they expect Jesus had a lesson in this yet still to share?

Why Are You So Afraid?

On the level of all good familiar plot lines, the conflict is resolved, the threat is removed, the storm is calmed. Fine, for those who can sit with this. But for some, this kind of story is a deal breaker, the kind that raises bigger doubts that refuse to accept some kind of superhero sweeping in to destroy the bad issues in our world. Doesn’t happen very much, at least as far as most people can see.

Fair enough. Jesus speaks into the wind. He orders it to calm down, be quiet, shut up. Strangely though, he speaks as if to an intelligent creature calling for its silence, a reversal of its power and impact on the world. Whatever, it obeys. In the immediate resulting calm, Jesus asks his friends why they were afraid. He returns the accusation they brought upon him by his own question, “Do you still not have faith in me?”

Who Is This Man?

The disciples’ question does not follow with an answer. They ask out of wonderment mixed with terror, amazement, reverence. Their response is “megas”, the same as the size and force of the storm. They’ve been given a revelation that this man, this Jesus as Son of God, is beyond their understanding, with a cosmic power that speaks into the existential questions of life.

Questions don’t all get fully answered. Yet they are proposed to bring about if not a stronger faith, at least the strength to live with a faith that can stand in the midst of questions. Why go out in a storm, what’s with the other boats, why are they headed to the other side of the lake, why a cushion in a boat? These questions are based in small details, like the details that make up all lives. Life deals with them, works around them, and in the end knows it’s ok to question them. Maybe some small answers come from them.

Does God care? This question only seems to be asked in the midst of a storm. When seas are calm, the sun shines, winds are a gentle, cooling breeze, God’s love is not questioned. In the storms though, when loved ones are deathly sick, when destitution is imminent, when relationships are on the rocks, when injustice is rampant, God takes those kind of questions, those calls for succor, and speaks into them with the same force of a howling, raging sea.

Fear is inherent to life. It can be healthy, steering one away from the destructive. But to remain in an anxiety which shouts that all is lost is what tears apart and drowns out any meaning to life. This is not a lesson in a therapeutic wish that faith will always bring about a desired outcome. Faith is not a promise that will always calm the storm, but it does ride through it.

Where is God?

Good question. Find whatever answers you will in the storm.

Mark 4: 35-41