Rest in the Storm
Morgan R. McLean
March 7, 2011

Note: The sermon is an oral event. This manuscript may not reflect the exact spoken words. If you want to hear what was actually said, you can listen to the sermon on our website at www.uurockford.org. © Morgan McLean, 2011.

Karate practice, work meeting, ballet, dinner with neighbors, theater tickets, pick up visitor at O’Hare, luncheon, piano lessons, conference call, parent-teacher conferences, yoga, volunteer committee meeting...

That’s just what’s scheduled. What about catching up with an old friend, processing that hard day with your partner, helping with homework, going laundry and grocery shopping?

Our time is maxed out. We carry around calendars to fit in dinners with friends and movies. When do you take time for yourself? How do you find faith during the storm, and how do you calm the waters?

There are two sets of characters from the story with Jesus in the boat, and each teaches us a lesson about weathering the storm. One is to be like the disciples, and the other is to be like Jesus.

Let’s consider the story again. Jesus has been travelling, teaching through parables, starting his ministry and gather supporters. They get on the boat and Jesus finds a comfortable sleeping spot in the stern. Maybe the disciples fall asleep, but they wake up with waves crashing into the boat. They are scared; they think they’re going to drown. Imagine they’re desperately bailing water yet someone on the boat is peacefully sleeping. So they ask for help. They didn’t think they could do it alone, they knew better “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?” Jesus tells them to have faith.

Jesus was a source of comfort for them, and in this chaos of the storm, they chose to be nourished by that comfort. They were beginning to have faith, and beginning to realize that their faith will be rewarded – if you reach out, someone will be there. If you reach out, something amazing and unexpected might happen.

How do we UUs, most of whom don’t celebrate the miracles of Jesus as such, have faith like that? How do we, like those disciples, trust we can ride it out? How do we be less fearful in the storms?

I think many of us strive for that feeling, I know I do. When my Baptist friends talk about the strength they get from Jesus to face adversity, or when my Congregational friends talk about the great comfort they gain from the idea that Jesus is always with them, I sometimes wish for that, too.

But then I realize I do often have faith and comfort like that, it’s just a little different. We all must have some faith that the storm will pass – or we’d never face it, with or without Jesus.

Where is your source of faith? Of the trust and the hope that everything will be okay?

Some find it in nature. There is a tranquility and peace, a connection to something much larger than ourselves. Nature holds the certainty of survival, and renewal. We have faith that the crocuses will soon emerge, and we know that much like the flowers, we are part of that cycle, too.

Some find faith in certain lived experiences – it has always gotten better, you have always emerged from the storm. Maybe you say “nothing can be worse than that year.” If I can get through the illness, the loss, the sadness once, I can do it again. I know how because I’ve been there before.

Some find that faith in God, a higher power that creates and sustains. Prayers for strength and wisdom bring the hope of serenity. For some God has a plan. For others, God propels humanity forward. Others trust in the mystery.

Some find that faith in people. Maybe it is through a loved one’s embrace - maybe a partner, maybe a child, maybe a good friend – someone who gives you not only comfort but hope. Who helps you believe in yourself and your connection to the larger whole. Someone who reminds you this too shall pass.

There are infinite possibilities of where humans get the courage to live full lives, to face fear and love, adventure and dismay.

All of us, yes, I dare attempt a Universal statement… All of us can find the faith to weather the storm in here, in our church community. My career depends on it!

It’s not just that we celebrate nature and lived experiences and God and people, but also the promise of a good and full life. In 1803 the Universalist issued statement of faith called Winchester Profession, it only had three short statements. That the bible reveals the character of God and humankind, that there is one God whose nature is love, and “that holiness and true happiness are inseparably connected, and that believers ought to be careful to maintain order and practice good works; for these things are good and profitable unto humankind.”

“Holiness and true happiness are inseparably connected.” We are a faith community. We celebrate and experience the holy together every week. If you reach out, someone will be there. If you reach out, something amazing and unexpected might happen. Holiness and happiness are together here. This is a place where you might encounter the divine – it might be during our time of reflection and prayer, it might be while the choir is singing, it might even be over a cup of coffee, but you have to be open to the possibility. Open to the rest that is offered here. Be willing and ready for the waters to calm.

And so we go back to boat. To the other character: Jesus, asleep in the stern. His disciples wake him up, they are scared. I imagine he shakes off sleep, a little annoyed that he’s up, and looks out at the storm and he rebukes the wind. He says to the waves “Quiet! Be Still!”

“Quiet! Be Still!”

And everything is completely calm.

So, as much as we might need to act like the disciples – asking for help and having faith, we must also be like Jesus. Between karate and meetings and ballet practice and laundry and so on… we need to be able to say “Quiet! Be Still.” And perhaps, eventually, we’ll be able to sleep in the boat during the storm.

This takes practice. I bet Jesus practiced. Some people think he was just born that way, but I think he practiced. I think he nurtured a spiritual life, and was able to calm the metaphorical storms.

And I think we can, too. We can nurture our spiritual lives, give ourselves rest in the storm. Often, we do it by accident. We lose track of time in front of the TV, or finish a magazine while waiting at the Doctor’s office. But those are more moments of escape than moments of calm. We have to be intentional about our stillness, intentional about commanding the time for ourselves.

We might meditate, or do yoga, or pray, or dance, or write poetry, or putter as Mary Caskey wrote in our first reading today. There are many spiritual practices to explore, we’ll save that for another day. Today there are many ways to turn ordinary moments sacred.

We can do this by shifting our attitudes and intentionality with things we already do. Exercising, or reading, or going to the symphony, or eating dinner can be intentionally holy moments. Moments where we practice bringing the calm. It takes one sentence. “I give thanks for being here.” Or, “I do this for myself.” “Quiet, world, be still, family, Rest now.”

I joked earlier that my career depends on all of us finding the faith to weather the storm in the church community. But really it’s more than my career. It’s my source of such faith. That a church community not only helps us in the storm, but empowers us to calm the waves.

Church, then, shouldn’t be another thing on the to-do list, nor a time to check-off things on that list. Lots of people told me they were too busy to join a chalice circle this Spring, and often that Sunday morning is a good time to catch-up, and I believe them. The storms are real, our lives are really busy and complicated.

But that’s why we’re here, together, week after week. Sharing our lives, making sense of the chaos, resting in the storm. Church is time for you. Just you.

Time to practice being still, that you might command it in other places. And church is not just Sunday morning worship. But Chalice Circles, and Third Thursday Vespers, and Ramblers and Rollers and CUUPS and all the groups that meet through the church. “Quiet, world, be still, family, Rest now.” Church is not another “to-do” item, instead it is a chance to suspend the lists, to rest in the storm. To celebrate the connection of holiness and happiness.

I invite you to practice calming the storms here. Before you walk in the sanctuary, or perhaps during the chalice lighting, take a few deep breaths and be present. Write your check for the offertory at breakfast, and resist balancing your checkbook during the time if reflection and prayer. When you find your mind wandering, breathe in peace and breathe out love, and come back to the community. Come back into the gathering people who will sustain you.

There are 10, 080 minutes in a week. Can you give yourself just 60 minutes of calm and rest, of rejuvenation and strength-building here?

But Morgan, you say, what about the committee meeting after the service. I have things to do at church, you say. Many of you are on committees here, and on Sundays you come with a list of people you need to talk to, things you want to get done. The church needs your dedication and I thank you very much for the work that you do. And I ask you to consider it holy work.

Light a chalice before your meeting, share a reading, or a moment of silence. The finance committee, trash or treasure planning, communications – it’s all the work of this community of faith. And a chance to practice our intentionality of being still. Now, let me just say, I do not consider committee work a spiritual practice, but brining to it your own spirituality and a sense of reverence is important for the church.

It’s important in all the work we do. It reminds us of why we do it in the first place. It is the work that builds and sustains this community, so that this community might sustain us in other ways.

And this church, this community – just like each of you here - has both faith in riding out the storm, and the power to command it to be still.