Third Sunday after Petecost Mark 4:35-41 June 21, 2009

        3 Pentecost2009                                             Mark 4:35-41                                         June 21, 2009

Being away two Sundays, I came back to a busy place. The Social Ministry Team met Thursday night.  Friday morning had bulletin folders busy in our library, while in another room there was a table full of VBS volunteers.  At the same time, the kitchen and BBQ buzzed with high school youth and supportive adults making hot dogs and beans for our Seniors who were in the sanctuary enjoying live music from some of our talented children, youth and adults.  The youth then showed a video of their Amor Ministries Mexico trip building houses without using electric equipment. I was impressed! I hope you can see their video too. Ask a youth about it.

With all that going on there were 60/70 people here Friday, being the church. It made me grateful to be on the ship of the church with you.  A ship at sea is an ancient symbol of the church – not sitting safely in the harbor, but being out where wind and waves are expected.    

Some of you knew where Reg and I were these past weeks and shared your concern. And thank you for your prayers for safety!  Some asked, “You went where?” Like me, they didn’t know this country existed let alone how to pronounce it. We learned it’s pronounced Qatar and the people are called Qataris.  We went there to visit friends who are on a three year assignment at the invitation of the Qatar Foundation.  The RAND Corporation was hired to research how to best establish a K-12 education program. Our friend Richard, who usually lives in Bethesda, is the current Director of the effort.  They return home next month so we got there in the nick of time.

Qatar looks like a thumb sticking out of Saudi Arabia into the Arabian Sea, which we sometimes call the Persian Gulf.  Reg and I got to wade into the Sea and its warm water. Our hottest day there was a dry 116. And wouldn’t you know it, Chico was having perfect weather!  

The Arabian Sea symbolizes today a bit of what the Sea of Galilee symbolized in New Testament times.  Crossing over it brings to mind images of turbulence.  Today’s Gospel begins with Jesus saying, “Let us go across to the other side, from the Jewish side to the Gentile side.”  They go, and winds and waves ensue.  Crossing over time-honored barriers stirs up the waters.  

The Arabian Sea is surrounded by Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Iran, Kuwait, United Arab Emirates and Oman – all Islamic countries.  Traditional Muslims dress in long robes that cover their bodies.  No tank tops or strapless dresses for women and no shorts or going without shirts for men.  I had never been in an Islamic country and was taking it all in, but was not prepared for my response to their country-wide call to prayer five times a day. 

Early in our visit I was moved to tears when we went to the Souk, the marketplace.  It was a huge market – selling arts and material, animals and food – all sorts of things.  We were getting out of the car at the same moment as one of the five calls to prayer.  The cantor chanted through the loudspeaker just over our heads.  He had a beautiful voice.  They don’t all have beautiful voices.  I heard several where you hoped he wouldn’t go on too long.  But this one was beautiful.

I had stepped into a culture and religion not my own and was quite taken aback to see men of all ages stopping their shopping and selling, hurrying to the Mosques, taking off their shoes, washing their feet, their heads and their arms, and entering the Mosque to pray. 
Now I wasn’t romanticizing it in the sense of thinking everyone was taking it all to heart, but what stood out to me is that a people were sharing a corporate practice five-times-a-day acknowledging God as a part of their daily lives. We have a different theology than Muslims, but we come from the same roots. Jews, Christians and Muslims are Abrahamic faiths.  We all descend from Abraham.  Jews come from Abraham’s second son Isaac, born to Sarah, while Muslims descend from Abraham’s first son Ishmael, born to Sarah’s maid, Hagar. 

I still don’t have a good grasp of Islam, but watching these practicing Muslims hurry in mass to the Mosque made me wonder about us Christians. I wouldn’t want to be required to do a practice out of fear of divine consequences. And I struggle with the differing expectations they hold of men and women.  But what corporate practice, I wondered, do Christians have reminding us throughout the day that we too belong to something larger than ourselves?  Perhaps it’s wearing a cross, or marking ourselves with a cross, or doing “God sightings” like the children will learn to do at VBS this week, or carrying our bulletin cover around and reading the texts during a coffee break or over lunch. 

Well Reg, Joyce and Richard didn’t know what was keeping me, why I lagged behind in the hot parking lot as they entered the Souk.  They didn’t know I stood entranced by the chanting voice and scurrying bodies.  I had never heard it echoing like that from all over the city. Joyce and Richard had gotten used to it.  It happened five times a day – even in the very modern grocery stores and malls.  Chanting would interrupt the music from the loudspeakers overhead.  Mosques were in airports, business parks and within walking distance of everywhere in the city. Chants could be heard from every direction – calling people to stop what they were doing, wash, and gather for prayer.

I instantly felt like an outsider.  Not just that their prayers would not be the prayers of my heart, but that my heart yearned for such a corporate participation and there was no corporate call inviting my response.  There I stood delighted that I too have a God to whom I turn, but no corporate voice was calling me to stop and pray.  It made me yearn for a shared remembering in the midst of our days that we, too, are a part of something larger than ourselves – a part of someone whose love calls us into ships that risk going across the stormy sea to the other side. 

As I stood in that very hot parking lot (112 degrees that day), the tears on my cheeks matched the sweat on my forehead.  What if there could also be a church, with bells ringing, calling me and other Christians to stop what we were doing – as important as it might seem, and remember who we belong to and who gives us our life and breath and purpose in living?

I wouldn’t want it to be a call out of demand that if we didn’t stop, our God would be angry and reject or punish us.  I would want the call to be more like the water stands along a marathon track – reaching out with the refreshing water of life we so desperately need. I would want it to be like the chalk arrows on the path through the park guiding runners in the way they should go.  The question that came to me was: How are we Christians practicing our faith on a daily basis?
 
We worshiped with the Christians in Qatar at an English-speaking church for ex-patriots like Joyce and Richard – resident visitors. Christians worship on Friday because Friday is the Muslim day of worship, and a day off.  Their weekend is Friday/Saturday.  Sunday is a work day. 
I wondered if watching the Muslims in Qatar practice their faith doesn’t inspire the Christians there to not neglect their own.  Many of the Christians there long for Christian fellowship – even when it is with people they hardly know who are gathered there from many countries.  I had read a long time ago that the best we can do for each other across religious differences is to inspire each other to more faithfully practice our own faith. 

It is not always comfortable to cross over time-honored barriers – religious or otherwise.  But Jesus in the Gospels breaks down barriers – between races, religions, genders, classes and ages and pays a price for doing so. The disciples had hung around Jesus enough to know if they followed him they too would run into strong winds and terrifying waves.  But for some crazy reason, when Jesus called them to cross to the other side with him, they followed. 

Jesus calls us too – out of our comfort zones to places where Jesus himself goes. That is the assurance of scripture – not that there won’t be waves, but that Jesus will be with us and will, in his own good time, say to the winds, “Peace, be still!”  If Jesus seems asleep and inattentive to the apparent danger, it may mean that Jesus knows it’s not out of God’s control. 

A sleeping Jesus may mean he’s not afraid.  Maybe we don’t need to be either. If we are faithful in following Jesus, storms will come.  Jesus’ love goes against ingrained indifference and fear.  Jesus doesn’t play it safe, but goes deep into life where winds and waves are inevitable – and he calls us to join him there.  When we do, storms may get beyond our control.  But as we learn from the disciples, the best response is not panic. 

In life’s worst storms we may do well to grab a pillow and rest a while with Jesus.  When we’re caught up in the hard work Jesus calls us to – of loving our neighbors as ourselves, of turning the other cheek, of serving the poor, of welcoming the outcast, of forgiving even the ones who have hurt us the most, seventy times seven, of giving generously and cheerfully, of breaking down walls erected strongly over years and years of hate and fear – when we follow Jesus in these ways – the Good News is that the terrifying wind and waves will be subject to God’s peace.  

Nothing brings about courage more than trusting God will intervene, in God’s wise timing, with that peace which passes all understanding.  May that peace have its way with us, keeping our hearts and our minds in Christ Jesus!

Amen

   +Pastor Peg Schultz-Akerson, to the glory of God
Faith Lutheran Church, Chico, CA