Lord! Save Us!
Lord! Save Us!
by Frank Fisher, Obl OSB

It had been such a beautiful day. That thought kept returning to your mind as you looked at the setting sun and admired the way it's rays glistened in the waters of the Sea of Galilee. Everything around you seemed to be at peace. If fact, it'd been such a peaceful day you almost wished it would never end.

Of course at daybreak you'd no idea how the day would turn out. Since you began following the Teacher every day was, to put it mildly, a new adventure. But today after breakfast Jesus had simply led you all down to the lakeshore.

As usual there was a huge crowd tagging along. And as was also usual, Jesus intended to stop and talk to them. But this time the crowd was so large, there was no place for him to sit down. So you all hopped onto the nearest boat, poled it out a few feet into the lake, and sat down so the day's lessons could begin.

Evening approached before you knew it. And after taking one look at the still crowded lakeshore, Jesus decided, to go sailing. So you hoisted the sail and off you went across the lake.

Now normally you were always on your guard when you sailed the Sea of Galilee. It had a much deserved reputation for vicious storms: storms arising without warning; storms costing many a fisherman's life. But the day's calmness, and the way Jesus immediately fell asleep in the stern, lures you into complacency. The lake's waves gently rock your boat. And you find yourself beginning to drift toward sleep.

Just as you're about to drop off a sudden gust of wind catches your attention. You sit up, look around, and find you're at the most dangerous spot in the lake. The spot right in the center where the surrounding hills can funnel winds directly toward you.

From the way your boat's sail strains against the rigging you can tell the winds are indeed heading your way. So you jump to your feet and turn the boat into the wind. But the way the wind begins to swirl around you defeats your efforts almost before they begin.

Water splashes into your face as the waves began to rise. Higher and higher they rise until they come over the side much faster than you can bail. You hear a twanging sound as the rigging parts and the sail flies off into the menacing darkness.

Then the boat begins spinning as you loose all semblance of control. You feel the watery chaos reaching for you. And you know this is your last moment of life.

You look toward the stern and see that somehow Jesus has managed to remain fast asleep. In desperation you reach out and shake his shoulder. "Lord," you scream out! "Save us! Do you not care that we are perishing?"

In response, Jesus calmly sits up and looks about him. You gape as he slowly and calmly rubs the sleep from his eyes. He stands up tall, and holds out his hands into the midst of the storm. It seems to you he's physically touching the wind and the sea as if he's laying his hands on their heads. For a long moment, he stands there quietly.

Then finally, Jesus speaks. "Peace," he whispers. "Be still." And instantly the wind ceases and the sea stills. Nothing moves on the dead calm of the peaceful waters.

You turn and look in wonder at the One you've been calling Teacher. It's very apparent he's something more than that. Somehow it seems Jesus is a bit disappointed in you. "Why are you afraid," he patiently asks? "Have you no faith?" Then he curls back up on his cushion and immediately falls back fast asleep.

You remember now how you sat there for hours and watched the moonbeams glisten on the lake's mirror like surface. "Who is this," you continually mumbled as you gazed wonderingly at Jesus? "And how can even the wind and sea obey him?"

Since then, of course, you discovered the answer to many questions. "Who is this," you asked on that night? "The only begotten Child of God," you now can answer. You also know how the wind and sea obeyed him on that night so long ago. For in many, many, moment of your life you've found yourself in the midst of even greater storms than the one you faced that night on the Sea of Galilee. And in the midst of all those storms you've felt like Jesus' hand rested gently on your forehead. "Peace," he still whispers to you as God's love closes around you. "Be still."

Then through your faith in the One who calms all storms you go on peacefully, and trustfully, into even the greatest darkness.

It had been such a beautiful day. That thought kept returning to your mind as you looked at the setting sun and admired the way it's rays glistened in the evening sky. Everything around you seemed to be at peace. If fact, it'd been such a peaceful day you almost wished it would never end.

Things were mostly peaceful since your retirement. You and your spouse had finally found yourselves with time; time to travel; time to read; time to spend in the company of the companion who's always made your life complete.

Today had been one more marvelous experience of that type of time. The two of you had spent a quiet day. You'd gone for a picnic. Then for a stroll through the park. Now the two of you walked hand in hand as you slowly strolled toward home.

But suddenly in the midst of the day's calmness, you hear a loud noise. It comes from your spouse's lips. And it echoes again and again in your ears, as you hear the noise turn into a rattling gasp and you watch your spouse fall slowly to the ground.

Your beautiful day has turned suddenly into a violent storm. It seems like you're whipped back and forth like a small boat in a tempest as your life descends to a nightmare of the ambulance, and the hospital emergency room. And then your life itself crashes to dust as the doctor approaches you and quietly says, "I'm so very sorry."

You hear yourself shrieking to God. "Lord," you cry out! Save us! Save the one that's been my whole life! Don't you care that your creatures perish!"

Then in the midst of the storm you feel a touch; a gentle hand resting on your forehead. You find heart crying out to the Lord of all life. And in the midst of your cry you feel God's love totally surrounding you. Then you hear a voice whisper, "Yes my child, I do care. In your grief I cry with you. But know your loved one rests safely in my hands. "Peace, the whisper continues as the storms calm into nothingness. "Be still."

You will feel loneliness. The touch you always knew won't be there to comfort you. But through the power of another touch you know you can outlast the storms.

And through your faith in the One who calms all storms you go on peacefully, and trustfully, into even the greatest darkness.

It had been such a beautiful day. That thought kept returning to your mind as you looked at the morning sun and admired the way it's rays glistened through the beauty of the stained glass window. Everything around you seemed to be at peace. If fact, it'd been such a peaceful day you almost wished it would never end.

With the weekend the frantic pace of your life had stilled a bit. And as Sunday morning dawned your relaxation seemed complete.

You took your time as usual on Sunday. First came breakfast with the morning paper followed by a leisurely walk to the church that's always seemed to be both a part of your life and the center of your heart. As you walked through the church door you were greatly warmly by all your close friends and not a few relations. An usher handed you a bulletin and you found your way to your customary place in your customary pew. The morning worship inspired you, and filled you with joy.

Then you began to leave after the benediction. But you find yourself halting as the pastor calls you to be seated. There was, you remember, a congregational meeting called for that day.

As the meeting progresses you find yourself shifting uncomfortably in your pew. For you're told that without great effort, effort that the Session feels to be impossible, you'll be unable to call and install a pastor. Instead, it seems, the Presbytery will search for a temporary supply pastor. This temporary or Stated Supply pastor will lead worship and care for your needs.

You're also told without the same great effort needed to call a pastor, there will be a time, a few years hence, when your congregation will close its doors for the very last time. The stated supply pastor, or the series of supply pastors, will be there to guide you gently until that day.

Your peaceful morning has vanished. In its place lies a storm of anger, despair, and emptiness. For this sacred place, the one so central to your life is suddenly threatened. "Lord," you cry out in agony! "Save us! Don't you care we are perishing.!"

But in the midst of the storm you feel a gentle touch on your forehead; a touch brought to your mind by the touch on your head during the morning's service for wholeness. Then you remember the words you heard while you felt that touch. "Spirit of the Living God present with us know. Be with your children and heal them of all that harms them in body, mind, or spirit."

The scent of the oil on your forehead keeps reminding you of that touch; a touch which somehow now provides entry to a voice whispering, "peace. Be still"

The voice reminds you of your faith and it reminds you you are a part of a resurrection people; a people to whom death is merely the door leading to that resurrection.

And you realize Christ's church can never die. The closing of a congregation only means the member's gifts will be resurrected and live on in another congregation.

Your storm of emotion you know will return many times in the next few years. For the process of ending a sacred place can't help but bring pain.

But through the pain you feel God's arms surrounding you as you again hear the words, "peace. Be still." And through your faith in the One who calms all storms you can go on peacefully, and trustfully, into even the greatest darkness.

To God alone be glory. Amen.

(Comments to Frank at FRANK.FISHER@ecunet.org)

Interim Pastor, First Presbyterian of Watseka, IL

Rights for written publication are reserved.