Ordinary 12

The Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Job 38:1, 8-11; Psalm 107; 2 Corinthians 514-17; Mark 4:35-41

Do you remember the last time you gazed on someone who was sleeping? Was it checking in on your children before you went to bed? Rolling over in the night and contemplating your spouse? Looking over at a friend in the front seat of the car next to you, head hanging low, while you are driving home?

Did you ever consider that when we sleep we enter into a daily near-encounter with death?

Closed eyes shut out the world leading us into a singular darkness, breathing and heart beat slow down as unconsciousness envelopes us in her arms. Tired from the day’s work, we give ourselves over to something greater, more subtle, than ourselves.

Is it no wonder that sleep is a metaphor for death?

In this light, Saint Paul writes to the early Christian community: “We would have you be clear about those who sleep in death…for if we believe that Jesus died and rose, God will bring forth with him from the dead those also who have fallen asleep believing in him.” [1 Thessalonians 4:13-14] To regularly approach the threshold of death is an act of faith. Did you ever consider that sleep is an act of trust? Trust that we will not be harmed. Trust that we will not be taken advantage and having no recourse to defend ourselves. Trust that we will be cared for and protected.

Today we encounter Jesus asleep but not as the infant in the manger or in his mother’s arms lying in death. We encounter a sleeping Jesus curled up on a cushion because he is tired. A most human experience. With simple trust, Jesus places himself in the hands of his disciples, at least four of whom are experienced fishermen and have knowledge of the sea. Therefore what a contrast between the terror and fear that engulf the disciples and the calm and peace that blanket Jesus. Jesus trusts them; regretfully they seem not to trust Jesus. Their fear blinds them to the stillness that is in their midst.

I am reminded of Psalm 46: “Be still and know that I am God…” [Psalm 46:11]

In other words, stop trying at life so hard, drop all the ‘whys’, stop fighting, for so often we can find ourselves fighting against God – worse yet, fighting against ourselves. A Jewish student, Andrew Elitzer put it this way: “The Kingdom of God comes to each of us when we stop having our argument with life.”

“Be still…” In contrast, consider the energy expended on trying to have control over other people, including God. The inner strength that is depleted on hate, grudges and judgement of others. Living in this manner we turn into someone other than who we are and want to be. We become the violent squall, the dark waves breaking over the lives of others. We become the biting rain painfully pelting the faces of others. We become what we fear and never experience the calm and peace we seek.

The command of Jesus, “Quiet! Be Still!” is not said to what may be engulfing and overtaking our lives; it is said to you and me. “Quiet! Be Still!” “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?” Do you not yet have trust in me as I do in you by getting into the boat of your life? Because somewhere in our lives, our homes, our hearts is a sleeping, trusting Jesus. A Jesus who trusts in us and places himself in our hands.

The Gospel and Psalm invite us not only to ‘be still’ but to recognize the stillness that already is in our midst, a sleeping Jesus curled up on a cushion, a daily sobering near-encounter with death.