Jeremy L. Berg

Most nights we go to bed shortly after the 10PM local news and the weather forecast with Keri’s favorite meteorologist KARE 11’s Belinda Jensen. (Yes, Keri and I are living in the 1980s, and recognize none of our peers watch actual TV anymore). Each morning, I wake up with a weather alert on my phone with the day’s forecast. I then dress accordingly, and head out the door to face the rain or snow, heat or windchill.

It’s easy to grab an umbrella or throw on an extra layer for the bus stop. But as a pastor I’ve been wondering how we can dress ourselves spiritually to face the social and political storms that seem to grow more severe by the hour. The sirens go off constantly with each news alert  on our phone. When it comes to meteorological weather, we usually get a mix of sunny days and rainy days. But when it comes to the socio-political weather, we seem to be living in a hurricane of chaos and division that’s been raging for years with little no sign of sunshine in the foreseeable future. 

These external societal storms bring cold fronts that unsettle the atmosphere inside our soul. We find our inner selves tossed to and fro on the stormy waters of fear, anxiety, anger and despair. If only we had a calm and steady spiritual weather guide—a Belinda Jensen of the soul—to help prepare us for these other storms: cold fronts of cruelty blowing in from the East Coast, the thick fog of fear threatening to blind our reason, the torrential rain of renewed racism flooding our streets, and more. I think we do.

Jesus was no stranger to adverse weather and dangerous squalls—both literal and figurative. Once he even criticized the first century weather forecasters, saying: “When evening comes, you say, ‘The weather will be fair, 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 appearances of the sky, but not the signs of the times” (Matt 16:3).

It doesn’t take a spiritual sage to read the signs of our times in the United States these days. A societal storm and political hurricane is blowing believers back and forth, driven by various conflicting winds of teaching and propaganda. One scene in particular from the Gospels seems to resonate with what’s happening in our city, country, and own hearts:

“Then he got into the boat and his disciples followed him. Suddenly a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat. But Jesus was sleeping. The disciples went and woke him, saying, “Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!” He replied, “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?” Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm. The men were amazed and asked, “What kind of man is this? Even the winds and the waves obey him!” (Matthew 8:23-27)

The storm was raging. The tornado siren was blaring. The disciples were full of fear and panic. Jesus was somehow sleeping soundly. Does he not care about innocent lives in peril? Has he found a way to tune out or distract himself from the cries of distress around him? Is this the distant god of the Deists who is indifferent to our plight? Of course not. 

Jesus’ entire ministry was focused on  helping the vulnerable, rescuing souls in peril, silencing demons and calming storms. But he must now train his boat full of disciples to carry on his work when He is taken up to Heaven. If Jesus’ disciples—then and now—are to carry on the mission successfully, they need to learn to remain calm and anchored in the middle of the storms that inevitably come. What’s Jesus’ secret? 

I think Jesus’ deep and abiding communion with God, evidenced by his regular practice of set-apart prayer times, enabled him to rest secure in God’s protective presence “come hell or high water” as we say. As we seek to dress ourselves and prepare for all the bad weather to come in this new year, what other reminders can we draw from this story?

First, we should expect storms and not be surprised when the winds blow against us for daring to embody the values of the upside-down Kingdom. This is a powerful picture of the boat of the church traversing the tumultuous  seas of a world in opposition to gospel of the Kingdom. We’re at crosswinds and cross-purposes with the kingdom of darkness. We’re sailing upstream, against the wind, and there’s going to be rough waters at times. Let’s just make sure we’re in the same boat as Jesus! You can usually tell because his boat is usually filled with all the “wrong” people—sinners, outcasts, the poor and needy, the “least of these,” all being scooped up out of the waters by the arm of amazing grace. 

Second, just because the storm is raging doesn’t mean Jesus is not present with us. Our God takes us through life’s storms, not around them. Sorry, Simon and Garfunkel, our hope is not in a “bridge over troubled water,” but in a baptism that symbolizes going through death into resurrection life. Discipleship is the call to share in Christ’s sufferings by taking up our own cross. 

Third, never sail alone and cherish the community of disciples, i.e., the church, you share a boat with. Steady one another. Borrow others’ faith when your faith bucket is leaking. Keep huddling together in good times and bad—riding out the storms with your eyes on Jesus in your midst. We’re tempted to jump ship when life-in-community proves difficult and messy, but we should heed Paul’s warning in Acts 27 to those about to escape in a lifeboat: “Unless these stay with the ship, you cannot be saved. So the soldiers cut the ropes that held the lifeboat and let it drift away.” Let us remain together as we ride out the storms ahead, and cut off easy escapes that look appealing in the moment, but cut us off from growth that comes from staying put in uncomfortable situations.

Finally, we need to imitate Jesus and practice the art of pausing and resting even in the middle of the most violent storms. The forecast shows a 100% chance of more societal storms this year. But take heart! We don’t need to let the storms outside us dictate the weather inside our soul and spirit. Join us in setting aside regular times to “withdraw to a quiet place to pray” (see Luke 5:16; 6:12-13)—both individually and collectively.

One way Mainstreet Covenant Church plans to do this is by offering a weekly prayer and scripture gathering on Zoom — probably on Tuesday mornings. For those whose schedules allow, simply click on a link we’ll provide and pause, pray and anchor ourselves in God so we can remain calm the rest of the week as we face whatever weather that blows in.

Let’s not pretend the weather is calm. Let’s not deny that the winds are shaking the boat of the church and the foundations of this nation. But let’s not forget that we have with us in this boat the One who can walk on the waves and control the winds! Let us find rest in Him.