Bonanza!6/23/2024 12th Sunday in OT No, I did not take the photo above. It's a perspective "from above." In my homily I speak of the perspective from the sea and here's another one. It's the breakwater that we went through to voyage past Eastern Point Lighthouse . Here's the homily I will give this morning at the community Mass. A week ago yesterday, I was on retreat at Eastern Point and the weather was perfect, not at all like today. I decided to do something I’ve never done before in the 50 years I’ve been making retreats there, or in the three years I was on the staff. Bill Campbell who’s been the director for 5 years and is soon on his way to Georgetown shared with me that one of the things he wanted to do before leaving was get in a boat, get out in the water and see the Retreat House from the perspective of the sea. This prompted me to look into local harbor cruises that would have the retreat house in its sights. I found a “lighthouse cruise” that seemed to fit the bill. Unfortunately, the timing did not fit Bill’s schedule and I decided to go alone. It turned out to be a “bonanza” for me. That day, the strong winds from the days previously had died down. It was a brilliantly clear day, and the seas were relatively calm. (Did you know that the word “bonanza” comes from the Spanish meaning “calm sea?” ) “Se levantó el Señor e increpó el viento y el mar: y sobrevino gran bonanza.” The Lord stood up and rebuked the wind and the sea, and there was a great calm” That’s the antiphon for morning prayer. The other “bonanza” was circumnavigating Cape Ann and seeing sights I have seen thousands of times but from a different perspective, and some up close, like the twin light houses on Thatcher’s Island which you see from a great distance when you are on the shore looking out over the sea. When I signed up to celebrate and preach this morning, I had not looked ahead at the scriptures, so it was another “bonanza” to find that they were “sea-worthy.” Spending a week by the sea with one stormy day when the sea turned turbulent with waves crashing on the rocks, but most, “bonanza” days, it felt like a gift to hear the Job reading, the psalm and the calming of the storm. On that boat trip, however, all was not calm and serene. When we entered Ipswich bay, the water was choppy and the boat began to rock and I confess to being a “little afraid.” I trusted that the Captain knew what he was doing, but was very grateful when we entered the very calm waters of the Annisquam River which brought us back to Gloucester Harbor. As I prayed with today’s Gospel and remembering being a little afraid when the water got choppy and the boat began to rock, I thought of those disciples in a storm, frightened for their life. I couldn’t imagine how terrifying it must have been for them. And their “captain” not at the helm but asleep on a cushion! And, as you know, Jesus wakes, rebukes the wind and the sea and there is a great bonanza. For the disciples, the bonanza was not just Jesus’ calming the sea, but, also the revelation of God’s power working through him. Isn’t it interesting, though, that both the storm and the calming of the story instill fear in them. In Mark’s gospel there is a “double dose” of fear. Jesus rebukes them for being afraid, but then they are overcome with an even greater fear. The Greek text says they were afraid with a great fear as they wondered, “Who is this, that even the wind and sea obey him.” From our perspective two thousand years later, we believe we know the answer to the question, “Who is this?” We have studied Christology. We have responded to the invitation of the Exercises to “know him more intimately, to love him more intensely, to follow him more closely. But, even so, there are times in our lives when we may feel crippled by fear and call out to him, “Don’t you care that we are perishing?” And how does he respond? I assume that each of us can tell stories of Jesus coming to the rescue, calming the storms within and finding ourselves to be a “new creation,”. During the retreat, my prayer was very stormy. I had been struggling for months, questioning what the point was of all the years of ministry. I wondered whether all was in vain. I began working on the poem “Weathervane” last March. It wasn’t until this retreat that the storm within was quelled. If you don’t mind, I’d like to read the last two stanzas of the poem. There are 4 stanzas for the different directions that a weathervane points to. West In these sunset years I do wonder whether All was in vain. A lone ranger now Watching time gone by, Knowing what once was Is not now. A heavy heart within Weighed down by doubt. What was the point? Proclaiming God’s realm Where healing reigns and all are welcome, and Jesu’s ways have sway. There is a storm within me Waves of desperation, Battering heart, mind, soul And no strength to resist the enemy’s Taunts and tests, teasing the doubt within me echoing Peter’s words “I do not know the man” Were all his works and words for me in vain? Just chaff blowing in the wind Before the cock crows You will deny yourself East On these sunrise mornings I need not wonder whether All was or is in vain. For I cannot deny myself the stirring within seeing a scarlet sky wondering what it portends? A lighter heart within Waiting for something to dawn. The weathervane points To the East. The rising, the risen. The rosy-fingered dawn, Awakening, no doubt, Another memory. Another garden An Other One. There is a calm within me Waves of expectation, Beating heart, Mending mind, Soul full of love And the strength to trust this Friend, teasing the doubt out of me with works and words of love that one cannot deny And I’ve got to crow! Now that’s a real bonanza!
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