In Scripture, the roaring untamed sea is often a symbol of the destructive, chaotic powers of nature beyond the control of man.
The very first page of the Bible speaks of “Tohu wa bohu” in the Hebrew, the primal chaotic waters. Yet, those untamed waters are quickly brought under the control of the Most High God and Lord of Creation who brings light and life out of the darkness as he breaths forth his Spirit and calls creation into being.
The book of Exodus contains another frightening body of water. As Pharoah’s chariots and charioteers close in on the Israelites, God’s people are trapped by the uncrossable Red Sea. It is not until God intervenes, demonstrating again that He is the Lord and Master of Creation, that the Israelites are able to cross the untamable sea, on their road toward freedom.
In today’s Gospel, the apostles become trapped and tossed about on a stormy sea. Again, the stormy waters stand for the chaos of life beyond our control—all those difficulties both interior and exterior, physical and psychological that beset us—the dark depths always threatening to swallow us up.
Throughout the centuries Church fathers have explained that the boat traversing through the stormy sea in the Gospel today stands for the Church through the ages—the Barque of Peter making her way through the centuries amidst persecution and warring nations, the violent winds of worldly error. The waves crashing against the boat, the winds whipping around them are symbolic of everything that besets the Church, and besets the individual Christian.
In the course of the Christian life, the disciples of Jesus have to face chaos, anxiety, darkness, and bafflement .
The storm in the Gospel today must have been of unique severity, after all the apostles were experienced fisherman, experienced sailors on the Sea of Galilee. It was their home turf—well, their home “surf”—so to speak. They knew these waters well, they’d fished there before, with their fathers and their fathers before them. They knew its changes and dangers. And for these experienced boatmen to have been so terrified speaks to how terrible this storm must have been. For in the midst of their terror they cry out “Lord, save us.”
Those were the right words. Scripture is filled with such cries the Psalms especially: Out of the depths I call to you, LORD; Lord, hear my cry! Says Psalm 130. Scripture even instructs us to call out to God in times of trouble: Psalm 50, says, “Call upon Me in the day of trouble; I shall rescue you.”
When we find ourselves lost and in the shadow of death—when we are facing the great struggles and storms of life—the Scriptures teach us to call out to God. When in our desperation we feel utterly incapable of helping or saving ourselves, we are meant to turn to Almighty God, and cry, “Lord, save us”
This Gospel especially teaches us that the Lord hears our cries. The Lord of all creation is in the boat with us. We are never alone. Just as the Spirit of God brought order out of chaotic waters in the book of Genesis, Jesus, the Incarnate Power of God, can bring order, and peace, and calm, and new life—new creation, out of the stormy darkness of our life. I don’t know about you, but that gives me comfort.
This reading always reminds me of a story. When I was younger, my father and uncles together purchased a boat. A beautiful 55 foot antique wooden Chris-Craft that they had docked in Fairport Harbor, about 15 miles west of my hometown of Madison. And, when I was about 8 years old, one summer day, my father announced that he and I would be paddling our rubber raft from the shore just north of our house, and my uncle would be picking us up on the boat. It was a grey day, windy and drizzling when we set off from shore, and not 10 minutes into this little trek, huge dark clouds came out of nowhere. The rain intensified, the waves whipped up.
But my dad was there. And I felt safe. Come to found out, you’re really not supposed to do that, paddle into an oncoming thunderstorm on lake erie, but, I felt safe. Dad was there, just like Jesus in the boat today.
On this Father’s Day, we reflect on the role that Fathers have in the life of the church, in the lives of our families. No one can replace them. A man in the life of a child cannot be replaced. Our culture might say different, but our culture is of course confused about a great many things.
During this Year of St. Joseph we consider a particular man, chosen by God to have a role in the life of Jesus. A man who was guardian, protector, provider, and leader in the practice of the Faith for his Family.
St. Joseph took great efforts that Jesus lacked nothing he needed for healthy development. Faithfully guarding the Christ-Child’s life when the family was forced to live as refugees in Egypt. Instructing Jesus in his work as a carpenter.
In an age that needs strong, virtuous, faith-filled fathers, we do well to turn to Joseph, Ite ad Ioseph, go to Joseph, as a role model and a heavenly intercessor—that Catholic men may become fathers like the Father of Jesus—strong pillars of faith for their family.
Many forces in our culture today contribute to the breakdown of the family, minimizing the role that fathers are meant to play in the lives of their children. As the family has broken down, so has the culture. So, our culture, our parish, and our church need men to step up and be active guardians, workers, strong models of virtue and faith. Not as the culture teaches, but as our Faith teaches and St. Joseph models.
Fathers filled with strong-faith are meant to be Jesus in the boat for us who bring calm to the storms of our lives.
Grateful for our fathers, grateful for the many ways that God has comforted us in the midst of the storms of our lives, the many ways that Jesus has quieted the storms and chaos surrounding us and within us, may we continue this eucharistic celebration with all thanksgiving and confidence in God’s saving help. And may the Lord transform us, that we may bring his peace and life-giving word into the lives and storms of others for the glory of God and salvation of souls.
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