Sermons for the Month

A Parable of Peace-Making
DATE: June 25th, 2006
SERVICE: Third Sunday After Pentecost
TEXT: Mark 4:35-41
“To all of you Saints here this morning, grace and peace to you from God our Father, from His Son, Jesus Christ and His Holy Spirit. AMEN

I imagine that most of you know the story behind the hymn "When Peace, like a River." I do not recall if I've told it since coming here to Faith, but even if I have, I want to tell it again.

It seems that on the advice of the family physician Horatio Spafford, who wrote the hymn lyrics, planned a European trip for his family, for his wife' health. At the last minute he had to remain in Chicago, but sent his wife and four daughters ahead as planned intending to follow a few days later. Sadly, the ship on which they were traveling was struck by another ship and sank within 12 minutes. All four of the daughters died in that terrible accident. His wife survived, and he wrote the hymn aboard ship as he sailed to meet her. (1)

Every time I sing the hymn's lyrics, "…when sorrows, like sea billows roll; whatever my lot, thou has taught me to say, It is well, it is well with my soul," I think of that story. And, I ask myself, "How could a man whose children have all died in an accident proclaim, "It is well, it is well, with my soul?" I just cannot imagine how that's possible.

As I reviewed the rest of the song's lyric, though, I found a clue to the answer to that question. Listen, "Though Satan shall buffet, though trials should come, let this blest assurance control, that Christ hath regarded my humble estate and hath shed his own blood for my soul." In the midst of tragedy Horatio Spafford found assurance in the victory of Jesus over death and the promise of forgiveness and eternal life. He was able to see the "big picture" that today's familiar Gospel lesson is conveying.

When we hear the story of Jesus calming the wind and the waves we often get sidetracked onto questions like, "Why was Jesus asleep? Was he testing is disciples? How could his followers be such wimps? Did they really wake him up with the accusing, 'Do you not care that we are perishing?'" While all that is quite interesting to consider, it's not the point of the story.

This event is a parable conveyed in actions, not words. There's a "larger" meaning than the one that's immediately apparent. In this case, the storm represents the power of evil, a force beyond human influence. Yet, Jesus rebukes it the wind and it is silenced. As one commentator explained, "Just as God had authority over the chaos at the creation, so Jesus had authority over the forces of nature." (2) And, is it such a far leap to believe that the one who can calm the sea - an ancient symbol for the abode of chaos - can also bring calm to our lives by overcoming the power of sin and death?

The reason that Horatio Spafford could write about being a peace at a time of overwhelming loss is that he looked out into the storm that took his daughters' lives and saw more than the ship going down. He saw Jesus rising from the dead, bringing new life and hope in the face of death. So, in the face of his terrible loss - and whatever else life might toss at him - he was able to say, "It is well with my soul."

When, on that rocking boat filled with his frightened followers Jesus proclaimed, "Peace! Be still!" it was a message to them and to us as much as it was a command to the wind and the waves. We can be at peace regardless of our circumstances because the ultimate reason to be afraid has been neutralized by Jesus. The same power that stilled the chaos of the deep is a work around and within us, giving us so much peace-of-mind that we could take a snooze in the midst of a monsoon if we were so inclined.

And the fact is that only if we have that kind of peace within, stilling our hearts and our minds, will we be able to convey peace to others. Do you know people like that? They seem to be at peace no matter what?

I happened to see someone who fit that description in a documentary on PBS on Tuesday night. It was a program titled, "Searching for Heroes", part of the Merrow Report. I only saw the last 15 minutes, and the woman being featured was an 82-year-old woman named Vantrease Russell, better know as Grandma Russell. She has been taking care of severely disabled people in her modest Orlando home since 1949. Many who came as "children" are now adults, having been with Grandma Russell for years, others have come and gone. When asked how many she has cared for the number was staggering - between 12 and 15 hundred with as many as 30 at a time.

In the beginning she ran the house and took care of the children herself, now she is helped by a small staff. Funding comes from private donations. A woman whose daughter has lived with Grandma Russell for more than 40 years described her as incredible, unbelievable and fantastic. She's driven by love, someone else said. But when asked why she has done, and continues to do, this work Grandma Russell's simple answer was, "I want to."

Now, I have to tell you, I watched all this in unbelief, particularly when this little old lady was lifting totally disabled youth out of cribs in such a gentle, but matter-of-fact way. But, the thing that really caught my attention was her attorney's description of her. He said that the thing that draws him to her is the sense of contentment she has for what she's doing. "I have never heard her express any sense of frustration or being unhappy or needing any time off … never, never, never. I've never know her to take a salary. She's the most contented person I've ever known." (3)

No specific reason for that contentment was given - other than the fact that Grandma Russell feels she gained more from working with these severely disabled children than she has given. I can tell you though, given the footage I saw of the resident's challenges, and Mrs. Russell's description of times when the electricity was shut off and telephones removed due to lack of funds, that she is not content because external circumstances are perfect.

There's something else here, an inner peace that then is conveyed from her to those who desperately need to feel it. In that way, she is a peace-maker in addition to being a hero. This woman has transformed lives.

How many times have we talked about the fact that that is our role as Christians? Because of the peace-imparting power of the Holy Spirit in our lives it is possible for us to be a calming force in a hurting world. And, it begins with our hearing Jesus say, "Peace! Be still!" and realizing that his chaos-calming ability extends to us.

Did you notice the beautiful poetry in today's Psalm, number 107? It describes people who find themselves being tossed on the waves of the sea; they are so afraid that their hearts melt and they were at their wits' ends. About to be overwhelmed by fear and the insanity that comes with being out of control, they cry out to God. "…and he delivered them in their distress," the psalm says. Just like that, God stilled the storm to a whisper and quieted the waves of the sea. And the people were glad because of the calm and God brought them to the harbor they were bound for.

That should be us … people who are glad because of the calm in our lives, a calmness that exists regardless of our external circumstances. We know that the God who got up from a nap to still the storm has defeated the only chaos that has any real power and our arrival at safe harbor is assured. So, like Horatio Spafford, we can write hymns of faith in the midst of loss. Or, like Grandmas Russell, face what others would label as impossible day in and day out not only with a smile but with the ability to make a difference in broken lives. That is truly what it means to be a peace-maker.

(1) Hymnal Companion of the Lutheran Book of Worship, Marilyn Kay Stulken, Fortress Press, Philadelphia, 1981.
(2) Sermonwriter, Proper 7B (June 25), pg. 4, www.sermonwriter.com
(3) "Searching for Heroes" transcript, pgs. 12-15, the Merrow Report, www.pbs.org

AMEN