The Storm is Passing Over (and Over)

O billows rolling high, and thunder shakes the ground,
The lightnings flash, and tempest all around,
But Jesus walks the sea and calms the angry waves,
And the storm is passing over, Hallelujah!
Charles A. Tindley (“The Storm is Passing Over” 1905)

Besieging us from all sides, the media trumpets disaster after calamity. One day, a hurricane flees the tropics, and saturates us unmercifully, turning streets to canals, filling our basements with filthy sludge, and slamming mighty trees into power lines and dwellings. Another day, the very ground on which we stand begins to tremble. For some instinctive reason, when the noise reverberated from deep below, all of us at work that day congregated in the main office, perhaps seeking guidance, explanation, or simply the comfort of being together. Social media on the computers informed us that it had been, indeed, an earthquake, and most of us felt better that at least we knew and understood what had happened.

Storms emerge from both nature and humanity. Violent weather and sliding fault lines create hardships long after they subside, causing food shortages, homelessness, and seeping radioactivity. Nature stands beyond our control; within our power stands the choice of how to react to misfortune, and to treat those whose lives have been shattered.

He replied, “When evening comes, you say, ‘It will be fair weather, for the sky is red,’ and in the morning, ‘Today it will be stormy, for the sky is red and overcast.’ You know how to interpret the appearance of the sky, but you cannot interpret the signs of the times.”
  Matthew 16:2–3 (New International Version)

The overwhelming feeling of helplessness creates a desire to find order in the chaos, and glean meaning from seemingly random events. When the rain pours down, the wind shrieks, and the earth becomes wracked with tremors, it seems like being trapped in a giant randomizer, smiting some, sparing others, with no apparent reason. Weather forecasters and seismologists can strive to predict calamities, but with uncertain accuracy. All our human knowledge and skill will always remain finite. Seek comfort, and a place of shelter.

< Now soon we shall reach the distant shining shore
Then free from all the storms, we’ll rest forevermore.
And safe within the veil, we’ll furl the riven sail,
And the storm will all be over, Hallelujah!
Charles A. Tindley (“The Storm is Passing Over” 1905)
 

Contributed by Carol
Monday October 10, 2011
Liturgical Year A: Week 46
Liturgical Color: Green
Sunday Gospel reading:
Lectionary 28 (Proper 23)
Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost