12th Sunday in Ordinary Time Jb 38:1, 8-11; Ps 107:23-24, 25-27, 28-29, 30-31; 2 Cor 5:14-17; Mk 4:35-41
Here and there in the Hebrew Scriptures, the Lord God manifests his power as a mighty storm rising out of the sea. Projecting such authority, God addresses Job “out of the storm” in today’s first reading.
The opening line launches a series of rhetorical questions, comparing the power of God with the wisdom of Job, demonstrating who God is and who Job is not. Though the sharp words seem to portray the Lord God as the ultimate tough guy, such rhetoric finds its rightful place within the Hebrew Wisdom tradition. It means, “You don’t know everything, human. Reflect on nature and realize how much is beyond your ken.”
In The Book of Job, we find these verses in the Lord’s response to Job’s lament. By this point, the Most High, listening from the heavenly court, has endured 36 chapters’ worth of puffed up proclamation from Job’s friends, who have dared to judge Job, presumably in God’s name, and to demand his repentance for sins he did not commit. True, Job complains to God at length, but his lament reveals his trust in God, not the lack of it.
The Lord’s words (chapters 38-41) penetrate the fog of Job’s suffering and pierce his heart. His response to God reflects his attitude adjustment from anguished resentment to holy terror:
“I know that you can do all things, and no purpose of yours can be hindered. I have dealt with great things that I do not understand; things too wonderful for me, which I cannot know. I had heard of you by word of mouth, but now my eye has seen you. Therefore, I disown what I have said, and repent in dust and ashes.” Interestingly, in the epilogue of The Book of Job, the Lord rebukes Job’s friends, extolling Job’s righteousness and restoring his good fortune.
Jewish history boasts no tales of naval power. The great sea, the Mediterranean, inspired fear, being the source of chaos and the home of a powerful god, Leviathan. Even the small Sea of Galilee, where sudden storms could erupt without warning, terrified the fisher folk who dared to test its capricious nature.
Today’s selection from Psalm 107 plucks the seafaring section out of a longer poetic prayer, depicting people in distress delivered by the Lord. As in Job, the Lord God calls up the perfect storm.
The waves mount up to heaven and sink down to the depths, taking fragile ships along for the ride. With melting hearts, hapless sailors cry out to the Lord and witness the wonder of his power in hushing the storm and stilling the billows. They rejoice in their rescue, fulfilling the psalmist’s call: “Let them give thanks to the Lord for his kindness.”
In a remake of this classic story, the Gospel casts the disciples as the distressed sailors crying out for rescue. Jesus himself wields the power of the Most High over sea and storm, silencing the chaos with, “Quiet! Be still!” and inspiring yet another rhetorical question: “Who then is this whom even wind and sea obey?”
On a basic level, this stormy tale reveals the divine nature and authority of Jesus, a reality that has not yet dawned on his disciples. On a more personal level, it speaks of their relationship with Jesus, growing yes, but in fits and starts.
They ask, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” forgetting his love for them.
He asks, “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?” reminding them to trust in him, even as he trusts in his Abba.
Jesus’ trust in the Father’s love for him enables him to rest in the boat, even as the storm rages. Trust in the love of God, for each of us and all of us, grounds us in the faith of Jesus, the faith we enter through the waters of baptism.
Melanie holds a master’s in pastoral studies from Loyola University, New Orleans.