Sometimes It's Just a Boat

Sometimes it’s just a boat.

Today's gospel reading is one of those we all know by heart, and there is not end to the allegories that we preachers can come up with.  

You know how these sermons tend to go — “Jesus is in the boat with you.” “How many times does it feel like you are in a storm and Jesus is asleep?” “What are the storms that are tossing your life around?” 

Now this isn't bad, I suppose. It’s just that the boat becomes a metaphor for all kinds of things, when sometimes it is what it is...a way to get from one place to another. Maybe the boat is simply a boat. 

And if the boat is just a boat, then maybe all those boat sermons miss the point. Maybe what we should get from this story is something else entirely.  Maybe the point is that Jesus is just trying to get us to the other side.

I remember when I started seminary.  Now my seminary, Sewanee, was about 50 minutes from Chattanooga, my home town.  And when I started seminary, I had an apartment on the mountain like everyone else.  But I decided that I would spend most of my time in Chattanooga.  

As most of you know, I had a coffee shop, and I figured I could go in early, open the place up, then when the next person came in, I could go up to seminary, go to class, then come home again.  On those rare times when I had to stay up there, well, I had the apartment.

It was doable, but it was really hard.  Seminary took more time that I thought, and the relationships I was developing were in danger of being stunted and not really fulfilling.  I found that I was dreading getting text messages from the shop, wanting milk or eggs, or asking if I could roast beans on the weekend.  And I was missing the seminary experience that others up there were getting because I kept leaving.

But the fact is, that shop was my life for several years, and it was hard to let go.  Even when I made the decision to spend more time on campus and devote time to new, important friends, I found myself thinking about the business, afraid to let go of being in charge, afraid of truly letting change occur without me being fully in control of that change.

Well one night, I had to stay up on the mountain instead of going to Chattanooga.  The next morning, I was taking a shower, getting ready for the day.  I had the Chattanooga talk radio station blaring just so I'd feel connected to home.  And the local dude on the radio said, “If you are going into town, keep in mind that there is a huge fire on the corner of Vine and Lindsey.”  It took me a few seconds to comprehend what he'd said.  You see, the only structure on that corner was my coffee shop.  

I jumped out of the shower, got in my car, looked in the mirror, and saw I still had shampoo in my hair.  I ran back in to wash it out just in time to get a call from my shop partner saying not to bother...the shop was gone.  Against my will, my life had changed.  And though I didn't know it at the time, it changed so much for the better.

I think, given our druthers, we’d all rather stay where we are. That’s human nature. I'm bad at this.  I love planning for a trip, but when the time comes, I dread leaving where I am.  And I'm wondering if this is also true for our faith?  Sometimes it seems we can’t seem to hear Jesus’ invitation — “Let us go across to the other side.” 

How easy it is to stay in our comfort zones – to remain in what is known, even though that which is known sometimes becomes empty. We would rather ignore the desperate need for our action in this world than we would act. So we sit. And we wait.  Maybe we wait for someone else to act.  Maybe we wait for the right time.  So maybe this is why Jesus doesn’t give the disciples options.  They might just sit and think about it forever.  Thinking about it is such a good excuse, right?   

So, Jesus just up and says, “Come on, we're going to the other side.”  And they go.  

And here's the deal, getting to the other side is not always an easy trip, and we shouldn't expect it to be.  Change always comes with challenges.  Getting to the other side means a boat ride for sure, a torrential downpour, and dead calm. That’s what happens when Jesus tries to move us from one place of comfort to another of challenge and fulfillment. 

If the disciples had said to Jesus, “Well, what if there is a storm?” they would have never gotten into the boat because there are always storms on the Sea of Galilee and when you least expect it. 

If the disciples had said to Jesus, “Well, first tell us what’s on the other side?” they would have never gotten into the boat because what ended up happening.  A demon-possessed guy in the cemetery.  Pigs running into a lake.  People wigging out over all this.  And it meant taking a few steps further to Jerusalem and that fateful ending.   Who would want that?

The hardest thing in life is getting into the boat. And yet you just have to get into the darn boat.  And you have to go.  Over there.  That other side always seems to be filled with chaos.

In seminary, after the shop burned down, there was the chaos of being unmoored from all I'd known for years, with a future that was dark and murky.  Nothing seemed planned out and for sure.  And it was scary.

But, look at what happened when I fully went to the other side.  I live in an awesome part of the world with amazing people.  I have a place to sleep, I have friends and family.  I even have snow! I look forward to waking up every day to see what that day will bring.  And none of that would've happened if I hadn't been thrust into the chaos.

In the book of Job, Job is having a hard time understanding the chaos that has suddenly swept through his life.  After many, many chapters of Job and his friends kvetching and laying blame, God has had enough.  God confronts Job and  says:

   "Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?
          Tell me, if you have understanding.

Who determined its measurements—surely you know!
Or who stretched the line upon it?

On what were its bases sunk,
or who laid its cornerstone

when the morning stars sang together
and all the heavenly beings shouted for joy?

"Or who shut in the sea with doors
when it burst out from the womb?—

when I made the clouds its garment,
and thick darkness its swaddling band,

and prescribed bounds for it,
and set bars and doors,

and said, 'Thus far shall you come, and no farther,
and here shall your proud waves be stopped'?"


You see, even in the chaos that we see on the other side, there is the foundation of the universe, the foundation of God.  Even when the storms sweep around us and the waves lap over the edge of the boat, God is in that chaos.  God is there.  

Jesus is there. All along.  So maybe the point of this story is that there is something on the other side that Jesus knows about – and needs to get us to.  Now, the other side is not always an easy place. It means living into a new reality. And that takes some getting used to. Because when your location changes, when you accept Jesus' command to go with him to the other side, you see the new work required of you in this new place.  New ways to struggle for justice.  New opportunities to love.  New ways to do what is right, even when you are afraid to stand up and do it. Because when your location changes, Jesus is there.  God is there in all that change.  When your location changes, so do you. That’s pretty much how change works in God's world.