Don't Be Afraid of the Tempest

The Calming of the Storm - Matthew 8:23-26

Jesus gets onto a boat, the disciples follow him, and a storm blows up, rocking the boat. The disciples freak out and Jesus chides them for their lack of faith. Then he stills the winds and sea, manifesting his divinity, and addressing their concern.

There are a few things here to ponder. First, let's note a few dynamics. The disciples follow Jesus, and sudden trouble ensues. This seems to be a pattern replayed over and over again, anytime a person or group sets out to follow Jesus, whether that be the discovery of Jesus himself, or discovery that there is yet another way in which we need to follow him, but have yet to do so. There is something about the world, and ourselves, that resists our authentic following of Jesus. We needn't be surprised when it happens. In fact, we should, when we make a decision to follow Jesus, expect resistance, trouble, etc., and steel ourselves for it.

Jesus chides the disciples for their lack of faith, their being overwhelmed by fear. His criticism is sincere. After all, he's going to voluntarily suffer death for our salvation, so what's a little rough water compared to that? Also, this criticism, addressed to us, is even more poignant, because we have the advantage of living after Jesus has risen from the dead, so we know that whatever we suffer will end in death, while we will emerge from death transformed in glory. Seriously, what could possibly make us fear? But we do fear, don't we. However, as true as it is that we ought not to be afraid, Jesus doesn't scoff at us, call us cowards, and then leave us to our terror. No, he then moves to soothe our fears. You can see this calming of the storm as either an interior or exterior reality. Perhaps he calms the storm that rages within, our emotional imbalance, our irrational terror. Or perhaps, at some times, he actually resolves the situation about which we were being so fearful. Either way, Christ our true God does not abandon us in our fear when we call out to him, whether we should have been trusting or not. And I say it's better to call out to him in fear than to sit paralyzed and useless, or allow our fear to push us into sin.

The bottom line is that we so often allow fear to guide us into doing things we know we shouldn't do, and quite often don't even want to do. The only remedy is to act contrary to that fear, and intentionally act against fear by acting in love, doing the honest thing, and refusing to obscure truth, even though it will cost us to do so. We can all find ways to do this daily at home, in the workplace, in society, and in our political actions. There are also particular things we can do in church, according to our role or state in life.

The Boat
Now, let's look at the boat. The boat has ever been a symbol for the church. In fact, the area of the church in which most of the people gather is called the nave, which means 'boat.' The disciples, who would become at some point apostles, can be seen to represent all of us, but certainly represent the clergy, especially bishops, in a particular way. The storms of the world rail against our ecclesiastical boat, and can be quite loud and scary, but we need to remember that Christ is in our midst! He is and ever shall be!

Lashing out In Fear Against the Church
How often do we, pushed by this or that false 'need' to have this or do that, or submit to the twisted passions of our fallen flesh, become so fearful that we actually deny the millennia-spanning Tradition of our own Church? We can't abide the fact that some teachings are difficult, so we vilify those who teach this Holy Tradition, pointing out that they are sinners, as though that makes them different from ourselves, somehow. We declare our bishops, successors in leadership to the apostles and anointed guardians of the deposit of faith, citing the fact that they sin, incapable of leadership, as though the Holy Spirit was taken by surprise at their sinfulness and just wouldn't be able to work around that. We judge ourselves better equipped to judge what is authentic Christianity based on, what, it just feels more righter? All of us, laity, clergy, and religious, exhibit this particular kind of fear.

Smothering the Light of Truth in Fear
There are also times when we obscure a painful truth, or flinch from reporting something that needs reporting, for fear of negative reprisal. How often do we not confront the raging priest or arrogant deacon who is acting in a way not befitting the office and dignity with which he has been entrusted? How often do we not contradict that teacher, sister, brother, or clergyman who is clearly speaking out against Christian doctrine or charity? Not to let our clergy and bishops off the hook. How many times have they, fearing reprisal or criticism, hidden the truth of sins, their own and each other? This is a profound lack of faith displayed by the very people who are supposed to guard and transmit the deposit of faith. That they sin would not be scandalous; they are men, and all men sin. Although there will always be foolish and immature people who will judge others because they take the easy road of dwelling on the speck in their brother's eye, rather than dealing with the plank in their own, most of us realize that we have to live by our request that God 'forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass.' We could forgive even pedophile priests who confess their sin, instead of hiding it and moving about like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Sure we would want them put in a penitentiary, to protect our children, but this would also strengthen what should be their resolve to repent, to do penance, since it is for this that the place is by name designed. And bishops who criminally try to shield their criminal clergy from justice? No more heinous scandal could be devised than this, I think. We can deal with the revelation that sin has occurred. But to address the actions of bishops who shield their clergy from justice, hiding the truth and avoiding the consequences...we should return to the practice of the early church in dealing with such traitors...'let them be deposed.' They can work or beg for a living for the rest of their lives, or live sequestered away in a monastic enclosure, deprived of clerical dignity and repenting of their sins. These hideous actions, way more than the individual sins of individual priests, are what provoke fear and doubt in the people, making it well nigh impossible for us to trust them again, were it not for the grace for faith given by God. But that faith has to have something concrete upon which to reestablish itself.

Restoring Trust
New guidelines have been published for years, at least in the United States, for dealing with allegations of the abuse of minors by clergy, and this is good. However, since there was never a time when abuse and cover-up were sanctioned by church law, this new law is nowhere near enough. An annual day should be established for bishops, by themselves, to do public penance, fasting in sackcloth and ashes, for the ways in which they have done violence to the very faith they are supposed to guard, and just as all bishops benefit from the trust given their office, all of them bear the burden to repent for the acts that erode that trust. Such a day of public penance, repeated year after year, marked with heartfelt speeches and open letters, would go a long way toward demonstrating sincerity, and toward pressing awareness deep into the psyche of bishops that they cannot lead while being dishonest. Apologies don't fix things by themselves, but they aren't meaningless, either, especially toward those who sincerely express them.