JESUS IN THE STORM

My apologies.  A computer issue kept me from posting this on Saturday. The gospel reading on  Saturday prompted me to share this chapter from my book Faces of Easter.  

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Ever see a girl who looks like a storm cloud? That’s Mina as we sit down side by side on a bench in a quiet corner of St. Augustine’s church after mass. Half a minute of quiet, then the cloud bursts open in a flood of tears and words. Nothing to do but wait out the storm.

“My family is moving to Illinois at the end of June... That means I have to leave all my friends and everything… I’ll be in this whole new place: a new house, a sophomore in a new school where I don’t know anybody.”

“Scary, huh?” I ask. My heart goes out to her. She wipes tears with the heels of her hands, and tries not to sob.

“Yeah. Everything will be different. I grew up here, so I have a pretty good idea of how things work -- I was even gonna try out for softball next spring, and stuff like that. But now,” she shakes her black curls “I have no idea what’s gonna happen.” She turns and looks at me; she’s so young and seems so frail -- afraid of the storm clouds gathering in front of her.

Remembering the gospel story from my morning meditation, I start to picture the two of ussitting side by side in a boat at night on the Sea of Galilee, in the midst of a raging storm. Foaming waves seem about to swamp the boat. Then she shouts, “What’s that?” Peering into the gloom, I see a gray form slowly gliding toward us over the water, but I can’t figure out what this strange figure is that is emerging out of the darkness. It takes on a menacing, human shape.  I panic.

Then the figure calls out in a strong, soothing voice, “It is I! Do not be afraid!”

And, to our surprise, he walks right past us; a moment later the boat glides smoothly onto a sandy shore, landing Mina and me safely back in our pew in the rear of St. Augustine’s church.

Mina is staring at me quizzically.

“Oh! Sorry, Mina! I was just remembering a time when I was scared, the way you are now.” The two of us sit quietly, each involved in our own thoughts.

Over the years I’ve gotten a little better at recognizing Christ’s presence more quickly in the midst of life’s storms, and hearing his voice in the roar of the winds: “It is I, do not be afraid!” 

But a quick look at my young boatmate reminds me that she is still a beginner when it comes to dealing with frightening lightning storms and phantom figures that glide toward you on waves, saying “It is I, do not be afraid!”

I try to offer her some encouraging words myself: “Okay, Mina, so what are some things you can do that might make moving to Illinois a little less scary?” I try to make my voice sound strong and soothing and, maybe, well, wise.

It’s not the voice of Jesus, I admit, but it will do for now.

Reflection

A Christian tries to develop a paschal outlook on life, approaching every difficult situation with the confident conviction that the risen Lord is mysteriously present and active there, bringing about something new and good. Can you think of a time in your own life, or in the life of someone close to you, when you experienced new life arising from some painful situation?