The Silence After the Storm
A sermon preached with the people of Christ Episcopal Church in Warren, Ohio on August 13, 2023.
This morning, we find God in the midst of wind and of waves, of earthquake and of fire.
We find Elijah standing on a high peak, where there are winds so strong they split mountains and break rocks. Where the earth shakes beneath his feet, and fire burns around him.
We find Peter in a rocking boat that has drifted far out into the sea, where there are strong winds and killer waves.
And suddenly, on the mountain, there is silence. And God calls to Elijah. God is there.
And suddenly, on the sea, a figure appears walking on the water. And Jesus calls to Peter. God is there.
And both men reveal to God that they are afraid.
But God tells them to fear not.
And God sends them back work.
God sends Elijah back down that mountain. To continue on his path and ministry. And God grabs Peter out of the depths of the sea, and returns him to the boat, to continue his disciples’ journey.
Do not be afraid. God and God’s messengers tell us this over and over. It is a recurring theme in scripture. But the thing about fear is it is actually necessary for human survival, right? We cannot simply never be afraid, right?
I think of the early days of the pandemic, as leaders encouraged sensible precautions like staying home, wearing masks, and, later, getting vaccines, there was a rallying cry among some people that urged us to choose “faith over fear,” as though these two things are mutually exclusive.
But those pandemic precautions we took based on well-founded fear of disease were grounded in our faith, because they benefitted the most vulnerable among us.
So, I don’t think the message here is that Elijah and Peter shouldn’t be afraid of anything; shouldn’t be afraid of the wind and the waves, or the earthquakes and the fires.
When God tells us not to be afraid, I don’t think it’s some kind of admonishment to “man up” and pretend that “the changes and chances of this life” do not make us tremble. I think when God tells us not be afraid it’s reassurance that God will be there through those changes and chances. In other words, it’s a call to have faith.
Because it is easy to fall into a kind of fear that gets between us and God.
A kind of fear that makes us start to believe this dream of God is simply not possible, and this work of following God is simply too hard.
A kind of fear that makes us believe – among the very real and very scary storms and floods and fires – that God will not meet us there.
Yesterday, the first photos of Holy Innocents Episcopal Church in Lahaina, on the island of Maui were released by the Diocese of Hawai’i. You can hardly see evidence that a church ever stood on the spot, it was so completely consumed by fire; reduced to a patch of dirt.
I am so thankful the writers of Kings took the trouble to clarify that God was not in the wind or the earthquake or the fires that day on the mountain with Elijah. Those things are not of God. Destruction and death are never of God. But God was on that mountain in the silence that followed.
God meets us there. And tells us to not to be afraid. And then, when we are ready, God sends us back to work.
Back on Thursday morning, just after the firestorm, and before anyone could even safely get photos. I went to the Holy Innocents Facebook page, expecting to see lament, anger, and great fear on display. What I saw instead was the following:
“Aloha Holy Innocents Ohana - The sun is coming up after a terrible night of fires in Lāhainā town. If you are here on Maui and read this Facebook post, would you please reply in the comments so we all know how and where you are.” .
God is not in the fire.
God is in the sun coming up, after a terrible night.
Telling us not to be afraid.
And sending us back to work.
I don’t know who posted on behalf of Holy Innocents that morning. But it seems to me it was an extraordinary disciple of deep and abiding faith. One who found God in the silence after the storm. Listened. Feared not. And, remarkably, got back to work.
Back to mission. Back to community. To neighbors. To the business of loving and caring. Serving and saving. Helping.
The coming days, weeks, months and years will be challenging for this community of faith, as well as others across Maui, as they work through the trauma of the disaster they have experienced, while carrying out their mission to help others who experienced the same.
If you would like to know how to help from afar, you can donate by visiting the Diocese of Hawai’i’s website, as well as the Episcopal Relief & Development website.
And, you can help, always, with prayer.
Let us pray.
Loving God, who is with us always, even in the midst of wind and of waves, of earthquake and of fire; be with the people of Hawai’i, who are only just sorting through their losses. Be with them in their fear, their anger, and their grief. Help them to know that you are here in the silence, strengthen them for the journey ahead as they continue the work of following you, and let them feel surrounded by the prayers of people across the country and around the world. We ask this in the name of your son Jesus Christ, who heals, restores, and loves. Amen.