When caught in a storm, rest.

***

Gospel: Matthew 8: 23-27

As Jesus got into a boat, his disciples followed him.
Suddenly a violent storm came up on the sea,
so that the boat was being swamped by waves;
but he was asleep.
They came and woke him, saying,
“Lord, save us!  We are perishing!”
He said to them, “Why are you terrified, O you of little faith?”
Then he got up, rebuked the winds and the sea,
and there was great calm.
The men were amazed and said, “What sort of man is this,
whom even the winds and the sea obey?”

The Gospel of the Lord.

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***

It’s easy to imagine the storm the disciples find themselves in. The waves are rising, cresting, then crashing upon them. It’s the middle of the night, they’re slipping, falling, soaked, and Jesus is fast asleep.

Peter awakens the Lord, crying out, “Save us! We are perishing!”

A sleepy Jesus rolls over, stands up, then calms the wind and sea. Exhausted, the disciples wonder, “What sort of man is this, whom even the winds and the sea obey?”

***

A surface level reading of today’s Gospel passage might lead us to conclude, “When the storms of life are raging, cry out to Jesus. Awaken him. Stop him from sleeping.”

As if the Lord is unaware of the storm we’re in.

Perhaps the deeper invitation is to learn how to be comfortable in the uncomfortable. It seems like an oxymoron, but when the storms of life are raging, God calls us to rest.

Why, you wonder? Look at the disciples.

***

It isn’t that Jesus is unaware of the water. He’s just as soaked as they are. If the ship goes down, then they all do!

But Jesus is able to rest because he has absolute confidence in his Father, who will never abandon him. As the Psalmist proclaims, “the floods of water may reach high, but you they shall not overcome.”

The Lord sees the bigger picture; the disciples got into the boat in the first place to get to the other side. Once they land, there is work for them to do.

***

So, what might this mean for us?

***

Storms do not mean we’re headed in the wrong direction or that God has abandoned us. Rather, in those moments, Jesus is inviting us to rest. We will not be overcome.

Save your energy for the other side, which God is calling you to. When the storm is over, the real work begins.

***

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Image credits: (1) The Storm on the Sea of Galilee, Rembrandt (2) Calming the Storm, Eugene Delacroix (3) Cloudy River and Boat, Samiran Dakar

Not tomorrow. Today.

***

Gospel: Matthew 8: 18-22

When Jesus saw a crowd around him,
he gave orders to cross to the other shore.
A scribe approached and said to him,
“Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.”
Jesus answered him, “Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests,
but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head.”
Another of his disciples said to him,
“Lord, let me go first and bury my father.”
But Jesus answered him, “Follow me,
and let the dead bury their dead.”

The Gospel of the Lord.

***

***

Saint Augustine is one of the most important theologians the Church has ever known. After converting to Christianity in the 4th century, he proclaimed the Gospel with exceptional clarity and depth.

But prior to his conversion, he lived a storied life, often indulging in carnal pleasures.

Around the time of his conversion, he’s famously quoted as saying, “Lord, make me chaste… Just not yet.”

***

Augustine knew what was right; he wanted to do the Lord’s will… 

… Just not yet.

The same is true for one of the figures in today’s Gospel. “Lord, I will follow you wherever you go…But let me first go and bury my father.”

“Follow me, and let the dead bury their dead,” Jesus says. 

Meaning, stop making excuses. You know what is right. Follow me…now.

***

In what ways do I make excuses to avoid doing the Lord’s will?

Maybe I hoard my time; I’m hesitant to share it with others. I’ve clung to a habit one day too long. I’ve neglected to be charitable, honest, or prayerful. 

***

“Follow me,” the Lord says.

Not tomorrow. 

Today.

What might that mean for me?

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Image credits: (1) Not tomorrow today, Darius Foroux (2) Choose God _ Choose Love, WordPress (3) uCatholic, Facebook

All are welcome. Them, too.

***

Gospel: Mark 5: 21-43

When Jesus had crossed again in the boat
to the other side,
a large crowd gathered around him, and he stayed close to the sea.
One of the synagogue officials, named Jairus, came forward.
Seeing him he fell at his feet and pleaded earnestly with him, saying,
“My daughter is at the point of death.
Please, come lay your hands on her
that she may get well and live.”
He went off with him,
and a large crowd followed him and pressed upon him.

There was a woman afflicted with hemorrhages for twelve years.
She had suffered greatly at the hands of many doctors
and had spent all that she had.
Yet she was not helped but only grew worse.
She had heard about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd
and touched his cloak.
She said, “If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured.”
Immediately her flow of blood dried up.
She felt in her body that she was healed of her affliction.
Jesus, aware at once that power had gone out from him,
turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who has touched my clothes?”
But his disciples said to Jesus,
“You see how the crowd is pressing upon you,
and yet you ask, ‘Who touched me?'”
And he looked around to see who had done it.
The woman, realizing what had happened to her,
approached in fear and trembling.
She fell down before Jesus and told him the whole truth.
He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has saved you.
Go in peace and be cured of your affliction.”

While he was still speaking,
people from the synagogue official’s house arrived and said,
“Your daughter has died; why trouble the teacher any longer?” 
Disregarding the message that was reported,
Jesus said to the synagogue official,
“Do not be afraid; just have faith.”
He did not allow anyone to accompany him inside
except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James.
When they arrived at the house of the synagogue official,
he caught sight of a commotion,
people weeping and wailing loudly.
So he went in and said to them,
“Why this commotion and weeping?
The child is not dead but asleep.”
And they ridiculed him.
Then he put them all out.
He took along the child’s father and mother
and those who were with him
and entered the room where the child was.
He took the child by the hand and said to her, “Talitha koum,”
which means, “Little girl, I say to you, arise!”
The girl, a child of twelve, arose immediately and walked around.
At that they were utterly astounded.
He gave strict orders that no one should know this
and said that she should be given something to eat.

The Gospel of the Lord.

***

***

We’ve all seen or maybe even tasted an Oreo. There’s a white, sugary center sandwiched in between two dark, brittle cookies.

It’s a fitting image for what’s unfolding in today’s Gospel. There are two stories of faith and healing, sandwiched in between the dark, brittle doubt of the crowds. 

***

A woman has been hemorrhaging for the last twelve years. Meanwhile, a twelve-year-old girl is on the brink of death. Together, they represent all of humanity. 

The older woman represents those who are aging, whose bodies are growing weak under the burden of years. The girl represents all children who suffer, and by extension the pain and helplessness of their parents.

At the very center is Jesus, who makes all things new.

***

We begin with the woman who bore the burden of bleeding.

Mark tells us, “She had suffered greatly at the hands of many doctors and had spent all that she had.” 

Now she’s penniless. The fact that she’s spent all of her own resources implies that she is neither married nor blessed with children; she has to fend for herself.

Sadly, her uncontrolled bleeding renders her impure according to Jewish Law. So, she’s untouchable and, ultimately, undesirable. She cannot even enter the Temple to worship, leaving her no contact with others. Not even with her Creator.

This woman is utterly, utterly alone.

It’s her desperate desire for healing that drives her that day.

***

Imagine her barreling through the crowds like a bowling ball rolling through pins.

Suddenly, she makes contact with Jesus. Feeling power go out of him, he stops and demands to know who touched him.

To the faithless crowds, such a question seems ludicrous; imagine how many people are bumping into Jesus as he journeys towards Jairus’ home.

But there’s a needle in this haystack; someone has faith in Jesus’ power to heal. So, he waits for the person to be revealed.

As this desperate woman comes forward, she falls to the ground in fear, revealing what she’s done.

Her journey through the crowds has left many ritually impure, including Jesus. And yet, when she touches him – when she breaks the Law – her bleeding stops. She is healed.  

The irony is dazzling.

The Law prevents this woman from touching anyone. But if she isn’t cured, then eventually she’ll die from her wound. Blood – the source of life – is slowly dripping out of her.

She must literally break the Law in order to be saved.

***

What type of legalism still exists in the Church today? What rules or laws prevent people like this woman from making contact with the Lord in the Sacraments?

How many others might be healed – saved – if only they were permitted to touch the tassel of his cloak? 

The one thing that matters in this Gospel passage – in fact, the only thing that this woman can control – is her faith. Though impure, she believes. And that is what leads to her healing. 

Not the law, but her faith.

***

This point is re-enforced when Jesus enters Jairus’ home and touches the hand of this father’s recently deceased daughter. 

According to Jewish Law, touching a corpse rendered a person ritually impure – banning Jesus from contact with others, even entrance into the Temple! – and yet as he holds this girl’s hand – as he breaks the Law – she is healed. 

She’s literally, “raised.”

This verb, “raise,” is the same verb Mark later uses to describe the resurrection of Jesus, implying this girl has received life – life in abundance.

But the Lord was only granted access into Jairus’ home because of Jairus’ faith. The crowds outside and the mourners within have given up – “Your daughter has died; why trouble the teacher any longer?” they question. So, Jesus throws them out.

But Jairus clings to hope – and is rewarded for it.

***

What does all of this mean for us?

***

We can never underestimate the power of faith. 

While that does not mean that everyone will receive the miraculous healing of this woman or Jairus’ daughter, faith gives us access to Jesus, who makes the impossible possible, even if that means simply sharing our burdens as we journey through life.

That’s an offer open to all – even the ritually impure.

***

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Image credits: (1) Substack (2) Patheos (3) Music Meets Heaven, YouTube, 3:25