ECCLESIOLOGICAL ETCHINGS
November 4, 2022
Guest Writer: Rev. Mariah Newell
I had seesaws on my grade school playground. I remember when I got into high school, my friends and I would go back to that playground. We would have two people sit on either end of the seesaw going up and down, as high as they could make it go, and then another person would sit, barely rocking, in the middle and we would all just talk and laugh. I remember that when you got forceful on the seesaw, if the person opposite you pushed up with their legs as hard and as fast as they could, you might feel like you were going to fall off as you slammed into the ground. The person in the middle though wouldn’t feel much of a difference. They were still rocking slightly front to back. I think about the seesaw when I think about Jesus calming the storm. Three of the Gospels tell this story of Jesus, and as usual, they are all slightly different. I find a good deal interesting about this story, but to keep it short and to the point, the stern (where Jesus was sleeping) was the part of the boat that would have rocked the least. The front (where the disciples were) would have been rocking the most. Some of the disciples are seasoned fishermen. They know where in the boat to go to escape the storm. They also know what a bad storm looks like. I think a good deal of my focus in this story has always been the storm and the “calming” Jesus did when he woke up, but I think today I’m finding peace in the promise woven into the story that there is a “stern” of the situation. A place where there is enough calm for rest, respite, renewing…even if it can’t be permanent. There is a center of the seesaw, the edge of a trampoline, rows you can scoot back so you’re not front and center of the “splash zone,” a friend willing to give you an hour. There are places out of the storm where we can find some relief. Jesus is ready to welcome us into that rest if we’re willing to step away from the front of the boat…even if it can only for a bit.
Lord of the Sabbath,
Invite us into your space of rest. Remind us that rest is not a luxury but necessary. Encourage us to fight for rest for those around us who are overwhelmed and holding too much. Embolden us to share one another’s burdens long enough to remember we don’t need to be afraid. That you are with us, always. It is in Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.
