Second Sunday before Lent

Collect

Almighty God, you have created the heavens and the earth and made us in your own image: teach us to discern your hand in all your works and your likeness in all your children; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who with you and the Holy Spirit reigns supreme over all things, now and for ever.

or

Almighty God, give us reverence for all creation and respect for every person, that we may mirror your likeness in Jesus Christ our Lord.

Post Communion

God our creator, by your gift the tree of life was set at the heart of the earthly paradise, and the bread of life at the heart of your Church: may we who have been nourished at your table on earth be transformed by the glory of the Saviour’s cross and enjoy the delights of eternity; through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Readings

Old Testament – Genesis 2.4b–9, 15–end

In the day that the Lord God made the earth and the heavens, when no plant of the field was yet in the earth and no herb of the field had yet sprung up—for the Lord God had not caused it to rain upon the earth, and there was no one to till the ground; but a stream would rise from the earth, and water the whole face of the ground— then the Lord God formed man from the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and the man became a living being. And the Lord God planted a garden in Eden, in the east; and there he put the man whom he had formed. Out of the ground the Lord God made to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food, the tree of life also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it. And the Lord God commanded the man, ‘You may freely eat of every tree of the garden; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die.’

Then the Lord God said, ‘It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper as his partner.’ So out of the ground the Lord God formed every animal of the field and every bird of the air, and brought them to the man to see what he would call them; and whatever the man called each living creature, that was its name. The man gave names to all cattle, and to the birds of the air, and to every animal of the field; but for the man there was not found a helper as his partner. So the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and he slept; then he took one of his ribs and closed up its place with flesh. And the rib that the Lord God had taken from the man he made into a woman and brought her to the man. Then the man said,

‘This at last is bone of my bones
and flesh of my flesh;
this one shall be called Woman,
for out of Man this one was taken.’

Therefore a man leaves his father and his mother and clings to his wife, and they become one flesh. And the man and his wife were both naked, and were not ashamed.

Psalm

1    Praise is due to you, O God, in Zion; ♦
to you that answer prayer shall vows be paid.

2    To you shall all flesh come to confess their sins; ♦
when our misdeeds prevail against us, you will purge them away.

3    Happy are they whom you choose and draw to your courts to dwell there. ♦
We shall be satisfied with the blessings of your house, even of your holy temple.

4    With wonders you will answer us in your righteousness, O God of our salvation, ♦
O hope of all the ends of the earth and of the farthest seas.

5    In your strength you set fast the mountains ♦
and are girded about with might.

6    You still the raging of the seas, ♦
the roaring of their waves and the clamour of the peoples.

7    Those who dwell at the ends of the earth tremble at your marvels; ♦
the gates of the morning and evening sing your praise.

8    You visit the earth and water it; ♦
you make it very plenteous.

9    The river of God is full of water; ♦
you prepare grain for your people, for so you provide for the earth.

10    You drench the furrows and smooth out the ridges; ♦
you soften the ground with showers and bless its increase.

11    You crown the year with your goodness, ♦
and your paths overflow with plenty.

12    May the pastures of the wilderness flow with goodness ♦
and the hills be girded with joy.

13    May the meadows be clothed with flocks of sheep ♦
and the valleys stand so thick with corn that they shall laugh and sing.

Epistle – Revelation 4

I looked, and there in heaven a door stood open! And the first voice, which I had heard speaking to me like a trumpet, said, ‘Come up here, and I will show you what must take place after this.’ At once I was in the spirit, and there in heaven stood a throne, with one seated on the throne! And the one seated there looks like jasper and cornelian, and around the throne is a rainbow that looks like an emerald. Around the throne are twenty-four thrones, and seated on the thrones are twenty-four elders, dressed in white robes, with golden crowns on their heads. Coming from the throne are flashes of lightning, and rumblings and peals of thunder, and in front of the throne burn seven flaming torches, which are the seven spirits of God; and in front of the throne there is something like a sea of glass, like crystal.

Around the throne, and on each side of the throne, are four living creatures, full of eyes in front and behind: the first living creature like a lion, the second living creature like an ox, the third living creature with a face like a human face, and the fourth living creature like a flying eagle. And the four living creatures, each of them with six wings, are full of eyes all around and inside. Day and night without ceasing they sing,

‘Holy, holy, holy,
the Lord God the Almighty,
who was and is and is to come.’

And whenever the living creatures give glory and honour and thanks to the one who is seated on the throne, who lives for ever and ever, the twenty-four elders fall before the one who is seated on the throne and worship the one who lives for ever and ever; they cast their crowns before the throne, singing,

‘You are worthy, our Lord and God,
to receive glory and honour and power,
for you created all things,
and by your will they existed and were created.’

Gospel – Luke 8.22–25

One day he got into a boat with his disciples, and he said to them, ‘Let us go across to the other side of the lake.’ So they put out, and while they were sailing he fell asleep. A gale swept down on the lake, and the boat was filling with water, and they were in danger. They went to him and woke him up, shouting, ‘Master, Master, we are perishing!’ And he woke up and rebuked the wind and the raging waves; they ceased, and there was a calm. He said to them, ‘Where is your faith?’ They were afraid and amazed, and said to one another, ‘Who then is this, that he commands even the winds and the water, and they obey him?’

Sermon on Second Sunday before Lent

A few weeks ago we heard about the events at the lake of Gennesaret, when the fishermen were called as disciples after they had hauled in the catch which almost overwhelmed their boats. This week we are back on the water. Today we hear about the storm which threatened to drown them all. We know about those gales, don’t we? When everything is upset, when the normal is overturned and we have to struggle through hell to the other side, we call out “We are perishing” in our despair.

But to whom do we call? Social influencers whom we have never seen, whose words drift by ethereally on our phones, who have no idea of the danger we perceive? We call out to these savants hoping for a solution to our impossible muddle of danger – we call out for aid and succour. “Whence cometh my help” we cry out with the psalmist because we feel we are perishing.

Again we are on the deep waters of life, begging for help. We are about to spill into the deep and, because we don’t think we can swim, we panic in the midst of chaos.

But, on the contrary, I am certain that we can make our way in these deep waters. We have an example of calm, don’t we? We have just read about a fellow who slept through such a storm which threatened destruction to so many. He just stood up and rebuked the chaos. He must have said, “Be still!”

They were afraid and amazed, and said to one another, ‘Who then is this, that he commands even the winds and the water, and they obey him?’

We are like that crowd in wonder. But I think we could do this as well, couldn’t we? We fear and are bewildered about everything which befalls us – we don’t understand this fellow’s power to calm the storms of the most tortured soul.

When we hear that other command, “Do not fear!”, we don’t have to fear. We should take courage and live through the event. We must listen to that voice and take heart. If we do this in the depths of our despair, we would understand that we can make it through everything. We might even have a faith, a belief that we can live in hope.

Some have gone through a terrible journey of life and yet they tell us a story of life in all its fullness. They are the heroes of legend and we praise them, don’t we?

Who can make it through the wicked evil of the hero’s quest? I would say, those heroes who are stilled and work through, with care, the vicissitudes confronting them. They have not panicked in the face of difficulty.

They calmly walk through the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune to emerge from the chaos of their epic journey to find themselves at home again, like Odysseus when he reveals himself to Penelope. He might have used his sword on all of her suitors but I think he eventually becomes the man at peace by his hearth. That pacific picture is what must inform us. The end of the quiet life with the beloved should inspire us to carry on with the fight against chaotic evil at every moment.

Jesus calls to us to have faith, to take courage, never to fear. He calls to the blessed in the beatitudes teaching from the precarious position of the boat, a boat which symbolises the precarious position of everyone afloat on the sea of troubles. I think Jesus teaches about the calm of faith by sleeping in the boat during that outrageous storm, that storm which threw everyone into disarray. “They” called to him and revealed the character of the crowd, tossed this way and that in what they saw as chaos because they did not know that they could stand up against the storm blowing against them.

There in a corner of the boat lay the solution to all their fear of that moment. They had to call upon the solution. They had to rouse Jesus from slumber. When Jesus stood up, he spoke up against the perceived chaos. “Be still!” he said and that “Be still,” calms everything, especially our jangling nerves. I suggest we look to a solution far beyond the immediate, beyond the everyday perception of the crowd’s solution to any of our problems.

I would suggest we look to those invisible goods which belong to all, if we would but reach out to grasp them. They are there with us as we panic about everything. When the disciples feared for their lives, they called out “We are perishing!” – and so do we. We call out to God in those times of desperate fear, when we are at the edge. Don’t we now say “OMG”? In our anxiety, however, we do not take stock of our selves to find that reserve of calm, just as the disciples in that boat in the storm do not look to Jesus hidden away in sleep in the corner.

Our salvation lies hidden in our lives. We may not even recognise it as we panic in existential anxiety. We have to listen to the voice of Jesus as he commands, “Be still!” If that voice “commands even the winds and the water, and they obey him,” what can that voice do for us? What benefits can we receive if we were to listen?

Imagine if we were to listen and obey this command, “Do not fear!” What a different life would be ours if we turned away from the panic of the crowd and heard the voice of our heart! Jesus speaks to us in that stillness.

That is the miracle we all long for, isn’t it? But we get sucked along with the crowd. We don’t listen to the voice of our conscience. Rather we listen to the chattering confusion of the masses. We would rather speak about the weather to keep matters of moment at bay. We don’t want to think long and hard about that silence at the core of our being, that silence which challenges the crowd’s noisiness.

There in the corner lies our salvation. In the midst of our panic it lies sleeping. If only we would waken it, if we were to listen to that silent commanding voice, we would not panic – we would enjoy life in all its fullness, that life we pervert because we are too greedy to share with anyone, that life we silence in our existential anxiety as we listen only to the crowd’s distracting noise.

Let us not fear the silence of those corners where salvation sleeps unconcerned about the distractions of storms, the high winds of panic, the overwhelming seas, those nets full of struggling fish, the slings and arrows of humankind’s struggling with each other. Let us share the gift of life in all its fullness, the gift we all have in its abundance if we were to listen to its silent call, the call of loving friend and enemy alike. It is a commanding call, if we were to hear that still small voice of fearless calm, which “commands even the winds and the water, and they obey him.” Were we to listen to such a voice, that calm would be ours as well, so that we shall share life in all its fullness through loving care.

Amen