In the midst of it all. June 19, 2022. The Rev. David M. Stoddart

 1 Kings 19:1-15a; Luke 8:26-39

There’s an old story of a king who lacked peace of mind. He worried and fretted constantly until he finally got tired of it. He wanted to find peace. So being a visual person, he commissioned the three greatest painters in his realm to paint a picture of peace. They did, and then brought their paintings to the king. The first painting showed a lake at sunset: the water was perfectly calm, the light shimmered gracefully on the face of it, lovely trees surrounded it. It was beautiful, free from any hint of conflict. The second painting showed a meadow in springtime, very bucolic, with flowers and sheep and a stream gently running through it. A tranquil, beguiling scene. Then the third one arrived. It was a painting of a storm at night, done in livid shades of black and blue and grey. Harsh streaks of lightning rent the sky, rain poured down violently, the whole picture emanated discord and strife. The king frowned at it, and was just about to turn to the artist and ask him if this was some kind of bad joke, when he noticed it. Very small, so small you could hardly see it, cradled in a rocky crevice, was a nest, and in the nest was a bird ― asleep. And when he saw that, the story goes, the king finally discovered the peace he sought. You can get a sense of this from the picture I have included in your bulletin, a picture inspired by that story. Right there in the center, in the midst of the storm and tumult, barely visible, you can see a bird at rest in its nest.

One naturally thinks of Jesus asleep in the boat while the storm raged all around him, but this is a theme found throughout Scripture: we see it in the readings we heard today. Elijah has been involved in terrible violence: he has slaughtered the prophets of Baal and now Jezebel wants to kill him. He is running for his life in the wilderness. He comes to Mt. Horeb, and while there he endures a terrible windstorm, an earthquake, and a fire. Elijah does not find God in the violence, whether natural or man-made. But then there is the sound of sheer silence. And in that silence Elijah encounters the living God. We see a similar dynamic in the Gospel. This poor man is possessed by a legion of demons, who torment him constantly. He thrashes around so horribly that he has to be shackled and constrained; Mark’s version tells us that he howled continually. It’s frightening to think about, just as it’s frightening to imagine a herd of pigs plunging into a lake and drowning. But the climax of the story, the God  moment, does not come in the agony and destruction. It comes when the townspeople find this man sitting at the feet of Jesus, calm and in his right mind.

Over and over again in the Bible, while storms rage and conflicts swirl, there is a mysterious something at the center of it all which is quiet and undisturbed. It is always there: we do not create it and we cannot destroy it. In “Burnt Norton,” the first of his great Four Quartets, T. S. Eliot calls it “the still point of the turning world.” Its presence in the Bible might change the way we think, but its presence within us can definitely change the way we live.

 

And make no mistake: it is there. Jesus calls it the kingdom of God and says that that kingdom is within us. Paul calls it the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding (Phil. 4:7), given to us as a gift. And can there be any greater gift than that, anything more important for us to realize and accept? I mean, have you seen the news recently? Or forget about the news. Have you gotten out of bed recently? Have you lived at all? To be alive is to struggle. Desires, passions, fears, and anxieties so often seethe inside us while the world around us boils with conflicts, violence, and all manner of turmoil. If there is an unshakeable calm in the midst of it all, an all-powerful peace that we can access and share in, then we need to know that. To experience that mysterious something really would be salvation.

And we can experience it. In fact, it is ours to live and to share. I feel moved by this Gospel. Those townspeople come and find this demoniac calm and in his right mind. It makes me think of the prodigal son. The great pivotal moment in that story took place when the prodigal son, as Luke puts it, came to himself (Luke 15:17). That’s such a great expression: he came to himself. After losing himself in carousing and debauchery, he wakes up and finds himself in his right mind. To come to ourselves, to be in our right minds, is to be united with God in the depths of our soul. Jesus offers us the way to do that: he shows us what it looks like, he removes all the obstacles that prevent us from experiencing it, and he gives us his Spirit. We are one with Christ and one with God. And in that place where we are connected, the center of our souls, there is only wholeness. Our Christ self is never afraid and never shaken; our Christ self is always calm and always free: free from distress and free to love. Life will often be turbulent, and storms will frequently erupt within us and around us. But at the core of who we are is God’s endless love and God’s perfect peace — always.

Following Jesus means living in our right mind and knowing this. One of the great benefits of gathering for Eucharistic worship is that in doing so, we come to ourselves and remember who we really are. One of the great benefits of praying is that it connects us with God and our truest selves. Let this picture be a visible reminder for you. No matter how tumultuous our lives may be, the Holy Spirit, the presence of Christ, the peace of God dwells firmly and unshakably at the core of our being, just as that bird lies at the center of the storm. We can tap into this all the time, and we should. When we receive Holy Communion, we are nourishing this reality. When we pray, we are connecting with this reality. When we feel frightened or anxious or angry or lost, God is there within us — fearless and calm, inviting us to come to ourselves and return to our right mind. The more we remember this, the more we practice doing this, the more we will actually live in the kingdom of God and know that peace of God which surpasses all understanding.