4 Pentecost

 June 20, 2021

 Job 38.1-11; Mark 4.35-41

 + Well, today, June 20^th, is a big anniversary for anyone who has lived in this area for any period of time.

 It was on this day, 64 years ago on June 20, 1957, that a tornado struck Fargo and killed 12 people.

 As many of you know, I wrote a book about that event, which published back in 2010.

 The book is entitled Fargo, 1957.

 It was just reprinted on Friday.

 And later today I was supposed to read at Broadway Plaza for an anniversary event, but it was postponed due to the rain.

 I wrote that book because my mother’s cousin and her husband died as a result of that tornado.

 Don Titgen, my mother’s cousin’s husband, died in the actual tornado on that day in 1957

 And Betty Titgen, my mom’s cousin, died in January 1960 after being in a coma from the time of the tornado until her death.

 

I ended up doing research on the lives of the twelve recognized victims of the tornado, as well as the life of Dick Shaw, who was the young man in the famous photo carrying the body of a six-year-old victim of the tornado, who ended up dying twelve years later tragically.

 I also interviewed Mercedes Erickson.

 She was the mother of the six children who died that day.

 That day was also Mercedes’ 36 birthday.

 Today would’ve been her 100^th birthday.

 The kids didn’t leave the house as the tornado was coming because they had just made a birthday cake for her and wanted to surprise her as she came home from work that day.

 For Mercedes, she lived with a pain few of us know, for the rest of her life.

 That book affected me for a long time.

 I struggled for quite awhile both as I was writing that book and afterward to make sense of this event.

 As a Christian, as a priest, I had to ask myself: why?

 Why did this happen?

 Why did this happen to these people?

 These people were people just like you and me.

 They woke up that morning—to a hot, June Thursday morning in Fargo, North Dakota—just like any other day.

 And then, a storm came and uprooted their entire lives in a matter of moments.

 As I pondered our reading from the Gospel of Mark, I found myself  re-examining the events of June, 20, 1957 and thought about the storms in my own life in the light of that scripture.

 We all have them.

 We all have our own storms in this life.

 We all have our own chaos.

 And they are disruptive.

 And they can be destructive.

 Certainly our own Deacon John, whose first ordination anniversary we are celebrating today, can tell us about storms.

 I remember very clearly the first time he visited St. Stephen’s 7 or 8 years ago.

 He had been battered by some storms in his life—storms created by the Church and by life and in general.

 And he came here looking for a safe harbor from those storms.

 And because he did, we are grateful today.

 We all benefitted from being a safe haven from the storms of this life for John, and hopefully for many others.

 So, the question to ask of ourselves this morning is: What is God saying to us when the storms invade our lives?

 What do we do in the windstorms of our lives, when we feel battered and beaten and bashed?

 Well, as I have been pondering on that Gospel reading and on that book I wrote all that times ago, one glaring, honest reality of my life came forth:

 Although we can’t control the storms of our lives, we can control how we react to them.

 We can’t control ill fortunes, or sickness, or old age or accident.

 We can’t control tornados, and the loss of loved ones, or pandemics or the weather.

 But we can control our reaction to those things.

  So, when we hear scriptures like this today, as we experience our own storms in our lives, what do we do?

 How do we respond?

 Do we let the winds blow, let the chaos rage?

 Or do we, in those moments, calm ourselves and listen?

 Do we strain against the wind of the storm and listen to hear the Voice of God?

 The fact is, if you do so, trust me: we will hear God’s voice.

 If we turn our spiritual ears toward God, we will hear God, even in those storms in our lives.

 When bad things happen in our lives, we ask, Why do bad things happen to those of us who are faithful to God?

 We have all asked this question in life.

 Why do bad things happen to good people, to people who are faithful and loving and good?

 Why do bad things happen to us, who strive in our own ways to be    good and loving and faithful?

 Why do our lives get turned upside down sometimes?

 We want answers when we shout our angry questions of unfairness into the storm, our fist raised.

 But, sometimes the voice from the wind—as we shake with fear or anger (or both) and hold on for dear life during those frightening storms—asks us a question in return:

 “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”

 That is the voice of Jesus, answering us in the storm.

 Why fear the whirlwinds and all that they unleash upon us?

 Have we no faith?

 Again and again through the scriptures God commands us, in various voices, “do not be afraid.”

 “Do not be afraid.”

 And still we fear.

 And our fear causes anger.

 And our fear causes more storms, more chaos.

 But the message is that although the storms of our lives will rage around us, when we stop fearing, those storms are quieted.

 Because sometimes the voice that comes out of the storms of our lives is not asking a question of us.

 Sometimes the voice that comes out of the storms of our lives commands,

 “Peace! Be Still!”

 “Peace!”

 “Be still!”

 In that calm stillness, we feel God’s Presence most fully and completely.

 As disoriented as we might be from being buffeted by the storm, that stillness can almost be as disorienting as the storms themselves.

 Still, in it, we find Jesus, calm and collected, awaiting us to have faith, to shed our fears and to allow the all-powerful and all-loving God of Jesus to still the storms of our lives.

 So, in those moments when we stir up the forces of our anger, when the whirlwinds rage, when the storms come up, when the skies turn dark and ominous, when fear begins lurking at our doors and anger jostles us around, let us strain toward that Voice that asks us,

 “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”

 Do not fear, God is saying to us again and again.

 Do not fear what life or death or storms can throw at us.

 Have faith.

 God is more powerful than death or storms.

 Our God is a God of life and peace.

 God loves us.

 God loves each us fully and completely.

 God will not leave alone even in the storms of our lives.

 And the storms will not prevail.

 In the end, the storms don’t win.

 The storms are only temporary.

 But God’s love, the life we find with God, that is unending.

 In midst of even the worst whirlwinds of our lives, there is a stillness dwelling in its core.

 “In the time of my favor I heard you,” God says to us in our reading from Paul this morning. “And in the day of trouble I helped you.”

 God always helps us in our trouble.

 And knowing that we realize that above every storm, above every tornado, there is a Light that is about to shine through.

 And is then than we can live!

 And flourish!

 See! we hear Paul saying today in his letter,

 See, now is the acceptable time;

 see, now is the day of [our] salvation!