The Presence that Calms the Storm

There is an old expression you may know: “May you live in interesting times.” The saying is ironic. We usually pray to live in peace, free from trial or uncertainty, and so to wish “interesting” times upon someone else is to wish ill fortune upon them. Truth be told, though, anxieties and disturbances are usually par for the course in this world, whether in our time or any other. We may think we live in especially “interesting” times, but that’s only because we are familiar with our own troubles and not those of another day.

Our readings today remind us of this. Each of them are set in a context of turmoil and upheaval.

• The prophet Elijah is in the desert because he has fled there; the evil queen Jezebel wants to put him to death after he has defeated the false prophets of her idol Baal. Elijah is afraid he is failing at his mission of bringing Israel back to worship of the true God, and so it is in the desert that the Lord seeks to strengthen him with his presence.

• St. Paul, in the second reading, confesses that he is in “great sorrow and anguish” because he has been largely rejected by his own people, the Israelites, who have not been converted to Christ. While he takes comfort in his ministry to the Gentiles, the non-Jews, he also feels profound sadness to be separated and divided from the people of his own blood.

• And in the Gospel the disciples are in a boat on the Sea of Galilee, caught in a fierce wind that tosses them about. In a larger sense, at this point in the Gospels, they are also in something of a spiritual storm as well. They have heard about the death of John the Baptist, news which certainly would have been devastating for them and also frightening, perhaps leading them to question whether Jesus was headed toward the same fate. And perhaps they also were beginning to understand what their discipleship of Jesus entailed, a radical service toward the poor and the needy, just as Jesus had commanded them to give the crowds something to eat.

But while the backdrop for each of these readings is a particular problem, some disturbance that threatens, in each of them we also find a manifestation of the power and presence of God. Elijah is consoled by the favor of God’s presence, found not in the dramatic phenomena of nature – a strong wind, an earthquake, fire – but rather in the quiet whispering sound that is somehow stronger than all of them. Paul is saddened by his estrangement from his own race, but he finds hope in the fact that God’s faithfulness to his Chosen People can never be revoked. And the disciples witness once again Jesus’s power over the forces of nature, as he calms the wind and rescues Peter from sinking into the sea. In each story then, we see how it is God who is truly in charge, even if his presence is not clearly visible at first. 

It is a simple point but an important one, perhaps especially so for us in the present day. Because while every moment of history has had its various problems, it seems especially easy today to get caught up in the superficial and attention-grabbing and to get stuck there. Modern technology can be a blessing insofar as it helps us to stay connected and to stay informed, but for just that reason it also presents a danger: to be stressed and anxious about every problem, every concern, every injustice. Often we think that our increased awareness means we are being more attentive to what’s happening, either to ourselves or others, but the problem lies in that the deeper awareness doesn’t lead us to a deeper faith or increased prayer, but rather to grumbling and to fear and to losing our peace. That can happen to all of us at times. When it does, we should stop ourselves and look immediately for God’s presence. Sometimes, though, if we are not well-grounded spiritually, then we just get caught up in the next problem or concern. The whole thing becomes a kind of spiritual sickness, a cycle of malaise of anxiety that is difficult to break free of.

Ivan Aivazovsky, Walking on Water (1888)

Fortunately, just as he calmed the winds and the waves, Jesus is mightier than this kind of storm also. If we find ourselves in this kind of cycle, we need to seek out his presence and his power in prayer. Can I recommend a good way of doing this? Focus upon your reverence toward the Eucharist. As Catholics, we never need to wonder where God is in the midst of the storm – he is Present here, in his Body and his Blood. At times, though, we can grow lax in truly expressing that faith in our actions: by reverently genuflecting upon entering or exiting the church, acknowledging Who is Present here; by receiving the Eucharist reverently – whether on the hand or on the tongue – remembering Whom we receive; by reverently praying afterward, thanking God for the Gift of himself that he has given us. These actions, and more, assist us in not becoming sloppy in our worship and not taking it for granted, since it can be taken away, as we experienced just a few months ago. In our worship, especially in the Eucharist, we find the spiritual center to hold on to in the midst of whatever difficulties we face.

Let me just say a word also to those who have not yet returned to Mass. Obviously, we are in the midst of a pandemic, and we have to be prudent about the decision to come to Mass right now, especially for those who are in a vulnerable group. At the same time, let’s make sure we are also honestly examining our own hearts each week about our decision. The dispensation from our normal obligation of coming to Sunday Mass can be misused if we find ourselves living our lives more or less as normal *except* in that regard. If we treat the other activities and events of our lives as worthy of our time and effort, but *not* the reverent worship of the God, then that may tell us a lot about what priorities our hearts are truly focused upon. Don't misunderstand me – we have to be sensible in the present circumstances, and it's not my place to judge any single person or family's decisions. But we also need to be honest with ourselves so that we aren’t potentially making excuses for being willing to venture out everywhere other than to Mass.

Friends, in these “interesting” times in which we live, the winds and waves of life might toss our boats about, but we can always take refuge wherever the Lord is present, especially here in his temple. Each time we come to Mass, we are like Elijah, finding God not in the dramatic events outside but in the whispering comfort of his Presence here. And when we approach this altar, as we will do in a few moments, the One to whom we pray beckons us, as he beckoned Peter: ““Come… it is I; do not be afraid.”