Isn't this the story of the storm on the lake of Galilee? The Lord and his disciples are on a lake. A tempest comes up when they are out to sea. Death threatens them, the waves are huge, the winds beat against them. They fight for their lives as hard as they can, and all this while the Lord is asleep on a cushion at the prow. He looks comfortable to them. They can't bear him looking so comfortable, his indifference. In their wretchedness they turn to him, wake him up, try to force him to realise what is happening. 'Lord, do you not see that we perish?' But what are they doing by asking this question? Are they appealing to the Lord to control the storm? Yes and no. First of all they want him to share their suffering. They want him to be an anxious as they are. They think he will not help them unless he shares their anxiety. The Lord gets up, he refuses to share their panic. He keeps his own serenity. First he turns to them, 'How long must I be with you, men of little faith?' And then he turns towards the storm, and casts his own serenity onto it. He orders the waves to be still and the wind to be silent, and his own peace to come down on everything about him. The storm is still and the disciples fall at his feet. Who is he? They are still doubtful. We often make the same mistake. Instead of seeking to share God's serenity, we ask God to share our tumult. Of course he does share it, but with his own serenity.--- Met. Anthony (Bloom) of Sourozh, Courage to Pray1
I've had a rough few weeks, due in no small part to an increasingly demoralizing job hunt. Though ostensibly a search for gainful employment, on a deeper level this process has been part of an extended existential dilemma. Needless to say, I don't know what the future holds.
Of course I'm not the only one living in anxious uncertainty. The economy unravels before us, and world events betray our deep distrust for one another. As in all times, the greater struggles are the personal trials we all face with the dawning of each day, burdening our hearts, minds, and bodies.
"Instead of seeking to share God's serenity, we ask God to share our tumult." The Metropolitan's words are certainly true of me. Perhaps it's time I seek to change more than just my employment status.
1 Metropolitan Anthony, and Georges LeFebvre. Courage to Pray. Trans. Dinah Livingstone. 1973. London: Darton, Longman and Todd; Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press, 1984.
