Readings:1 Samuel 17:32-39 & Mark 4:35-41

I was four years old the summer I learned to swim.  My father was chaplain at Artaban camp.  We were staying in the clergy cottage.  Even though I was underage for camp, I was allowed to participate in many of the camp events.  I was in the beginners’ class for swimming.  We were being taught how to float, but I would not put my face into the water.  The swimming instructor tried coaxing me, but then simply left me to paddle around in the shallow water.  There was a slide into the pond, and I longed to go whooshing down it like the older kids.  The instructor told me it was all right.  It was in the shallow end so that it would be safe for non-swimmers.   

I stood up at the top of the slide for a long time.  Finally I got up enough courage.  Down I went, splashing into the water.  Being small, it must have taken me out deeper than expected.  I couldn’t find my way up to the surface.  At first, I panicked and began to thrash around in the water.  But then I stopped struggling, and became strangely calm.  Then a strange thing occurred.  I began to rise to the top of the water.  I remember coming up toward the surface and seeing the sun shining through the water.  My head finally above water, I paddled to the edge of the pond where I could put my feet down.  I was never afraid of the water after that.  I knew that if I relaxed, the water would support me.  I learned to swim quite well that summer.  But I learned something far more important that day, something that I have carried with me throughout my life.  It is that sense that if I relax, then something else, someone else more powerful than myself, takes over and sustains me.  That learning more than anything has helped me to face many Goliaths in my life.  It has helped me to weather many storms.        

The powerful Philistine army is lined up on the hillside; the militia of Israel stands quivering on the other.  They are afraid of the secret weapon of the Philistines, the Mighty Goliath, a strong warrior, and a formidable foe.  David, the shepherd boy, too young to be in the army, is acting as gopher.  He is delivering provisions to his brothers.  He understands the situation. 

“I’ll go and fight the Philistine,” he offers.  What a ludicrous thought!  This small boy against all that might!  They deck him out in armour; it just weighs him down.  But he has a few secret weapons of his own.  A sling, a few smooth stones from the dry riverbed, skill, experience, and most important of all, faith.  David is able, through the grace of God, to face Goliath, terrifying, malevolent.  In facing the terrible Goliath, he overcomes all odds. 

Jesus and his disciples put out into a boat late one night.  They have fished on the Sea of Galilee all their lives.  They know its little quirks, it dangers.  It is a very shallow lake surrounded on every side by the gentle sloping hills of Galilee.  Storms can come up with great ferocity and little warning.  But they need to get away. 

Jesus was tired, filled with the cares of many a busy day.  He is tired of the thronging crowds, tired enough to lie down in the boat and fall into a deep sleep. 

Sure enough, during the night a storm begins to rage, a violent storm, life threatening.  Huge waves are about to swamp their small boat.  The disciples are terrified.  Yet Jesus sleeps on, seemingly indifferent to what happens to them.   "Do you not care that we are perishing?" they cry out to him. 

And he wakes up.  He stills the waves.  The disciples are filled with a different kind of fear and awe.  The storm is nothing compared to the awesome power of this person.  "Who is this," they ponder, "that even the winds and the sea obey him?" 

We face many Goliaths, many storms, in our lives, particularly in these difficult times.  We see the Goliaths and storms that others face in their lives.  So many things swamp us – illness, depression, unemployment, career disappointments, accidents.  Being a Christian does not guarantee that we will not suffer. 

“Do you not care that we are perishing,” we cry out to God.  We are bewildered at the silence.  We get the feeling that no one cares, that no one knows our despair.  Not even God.  Is God asleep?  Is God dead?  Or just totally unconcerned about our condition? 

How often in ministry do I listen to people reflecting on the absence of God!  How can you believe in God when you see the state of the world?  The world population is exploding.  The economy is a disaster.  The environment is endangered through carelessness and waste.  Our natural resources are being depleted.  Millions are jobless.  Millions more are starving.  Terrorism threatens our way of life.  There is war.  There is violence.  These are stormy times.  And God, where is God in all of this?      

And then on a more personal level one hears. “How can I go one living when the person I love the most has died?”  “Why am I sick?”  “Why is God doing this to me?  I am a good person.  I live a good life.  Why me?”  “I have asked God to help me find a job.  Why is it that I am still looking?  Why aren’t things working out for me the way they should.”   

How do we face the Goliaths in our lives?  How do we weather the storms, for they do come?   God has created and redeemed us.  Surely we will be sustained.  God's grace is sufficient.  It is available. God does not promise to cancel out all the storms of our lives.  But God is with us as we face and endure the storms.  God does not promise that we will never face a Goliath.  But God is there with us, strengthening us, preparing us.  In faith we recognize and accept that grace, and lay claim to the peace in the midst of the raging tempests.  In faith we rely on God and encounter that power again and again.  May we learn to call on God's power and grace in our lives, not only in the midst of storm, not only when we come against the Goliaths of life, but in our daily walk.  For then we will encounter God’s healing grace.  Amen.