My Small Boat

June 20, 2021 
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Psalm 107:1, 23-31; Mark 4:35-41[1]

When I read this passage in Mark’s Gospel, I imagine myself in a small boat on a storm-tossed sea. The wind blows and the waves threaten to swamp the craft and I am holding on for dear life. I’ve never been in a real storm at sea, only a metaphorical one, but I can imagine the fear of that moment.

Another image that comes to mind is of a small, a wedge-shaped wood block, a brass plaque with raised lettering which reads, “O, God, thy sea is so great and my boat is so small.”  This is the opening to an old Breton fisherman’s prayer, and was traditionally given to new submarine captains by Admiral Hyman Rickover. The Admiral gave this plaque to President John F. Kennedy, who kept it on his desk in the Oval Office.

What is my small boat against the storms of the world? The wind and waves of life imperil my fragile vessel, and even my faith seems small against the tempests. You may feel this way as well, when fear overtakes you. And there is much in our world that can cause us fear. We fear illness and financial losses, failure, disapproval, and embarrassment; and always, we fear death – our own death, the death of loved ones, and the demise of what we have known brought about by changes.

It is important to note that Jesus doesn’t say, “There’s nothing to fear.” The storm was a real threat to that boat on the Sea of Galilee, and the storms that assail us are fearsome as well. What Jesus says is, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”[2] It is a distinction that matters.

Imagine a small child, awakened in the night by the monsters in a dream, in the closet, or under the bed. The mother rushes to the bedroom, scoops the child up in her arms, and sits in the rocking chair. Wiping the tears from small eyes, the father whispers, “There’s nothing to be afraid of. The monsters aren’t real.” That may suffice for the night, for a child innocent of the world, but it’s not true. There are real monsters.

Now, the real monsters don’t look like the Pixar characters in Monster’s Inc.® They look more like isolation, chronic pain, addiction, rejection, job loss, financial strains, self-sabotage, illness, and grief. Sometimes they look like people, people without qualms, hesitations, empathy, or remorse. There are monstrous people who are so certain they are right, or the other is wrong, that any means is justified in service to their version of the truth. These monsters are terrifying because they are real.

When we feel that there is too much to fear, that the monsters are circling, that the storm is already swamping the boat, we want to scream at Jesus, asleep in the stern. “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”[3] God, where are you when we need you? The storms are so great and our faith is so small. In the silence that follows, there comes a whisper, “Fear not, for I am with you.”

Though the fearsome things are real, they don’t control us. They don’t get the last word, because God is mightier than they. The angels keep saying it, to the shepherds keeping watch and the women at the empty tomb, “Do not be afraid.” Jesus wakes, rebukes the wind and calms the sea. What you fear is real, yes, but you are not alone, for God is here, and even the wind and sea obey.

The truth is that some things which frighten us are real, and some are not. When our emotions get the best of us, it can be difficult to discern misdirection, half-truths, and lies from the truth. Even so, some of what we fear is real, and only through courage born of faith can we endure the storm. Only by recognizing that even if Jesus seems to be sleeping, he is there in the boat with us. And we too easily forget that line in verse 36, that even though Jesus was in one boat with the disciples, “Other boats were with him.”[4] My small boat is not alone on the sea; your boats are sailing along with mine.

There are many stories of those who have found courage through faith. One of mine comes in the words of Emily Brontë, an English novelist who is best known for writing Wuthering Heights. Her mother and two siblings died when she was young, and she suffered illness and isolation. In 1846, she published a book of poetry with her sisters Charlotte and Anne titled Poems by Currer, Ellis and Acton Bell. One of the poems, “No Coward Soul Is Mine,”[5] expresses Emily’s dauntless and elemental spirit.

No coward soul is mine,
No trembler in the world’s storm-troubled sphere:
I see Heaven’s glories shine,
And faith shines equal, arming me from Fear.

O God within my breast,
Almighty, ever-present Deity!
Life – that in me hast rest,
As I – Undying Life – have power in Thee!

What faith teaches us is that even though there are real monsters and fearsome storms in life, the God who raised Jesus from the grave remains with us. What we fear need not paralyze us, does not have to control us, because we are not alone in our small boats. “Peace! Be still!”[6] Fear not, have faith, for I am with you. “O give thanks to the Lord, for God is good; God’s steadfast love endures forever.”[7]  Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] Mark 4:40.

[3] Mark 4:38.

[4] Mark 4:36.

[5] Emily Brontë, “No Coward Soul Is Mine,” in Poems by Currer, Ellis and Acton Bell, 1846.

[6] Mark 4:39.

[7] Psalm 107:1.