Sunday 20th February, 2nd Sunday before Lent 2022

Storm Eunice.

Where do they get these names from?

And who is/was Eunice? This is what I was asking myself on Friday as the winds were pounding our house, and I was meditating on the story of Jesus calming the storm

Do you know who Eunice was?

Did you know Eunice appears in the Bible?

Here is Paul writing to Timothy:

As I remember your tears, I long to see you, that I may be filled with joy.  I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that dwelt first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, dwells in you as well” (2 Tim 1:4-5).

Eunice was a popular name in the Greek speaking world at that time, and means: “conquering well.”

Not appropriate for those who have sadly suffered loss in the storm, who we remember in our prayers this morning-

But perhaps a good description of what Jesus did on the lake – “conquering well.”

What are we to take from the miraculous calming of the storm?

There are two elements I would like to explore this morning.

The first is the impact of the miracle.

The second is the calmness of Jesus – asleep in the boat and then taking control of the situation.

 

The impact of the miracle.

There is the impact on those present, and Luke’s early readers.

And there is the impact on subsequent generations including us.

First on former generations

In the Hebrew Bible, and in even earlier stories of the creation of the world, the sea is associated with evil powers.

Just one example, from Psalm 89:

You rule the raging of the sea,

When its waves surge, you still them.

Think God’s parting of the Red Sea for the fleeing Israelites as they make their journey to the Promised Land.

By the miracle of calming the storm, Jesus demonstrates his power over supernatural forces.

This together with other miracles, is part of the revealing to his disciples and thence through others and eventually to us, of his true divine nature.

How are we to view this miracle sitting here today, a few days after a massive gale?

The theologian and former Dean of St. Albans, Jeffrey John puts it like this:

However much modern Christians may wonder what did or didn’t happen on the Sea of Galilee over 2000 years ago; however much we may struggle to understand what it means to say that Jesus was God on Earth, as Luke’s own early church were so unshakeably clear he was - it remains a fact of Christian experience that these miracles “work“.

Their message is true.

Not usually, perhaps, in the sense that physical storms are calmed, but certainly in the sense that Christ’s words still have extraordinary power to bring “a great calm” in times of turmoil and chaos - when we have faith, however faltering, that he is who he is.

Jeffrey John’s words remind me of a conversation I had this week with a parishioner after our Wednesday midday communion service.

They said “I arrived here before the service feeling fed up and submerged by stuff and somehow I am leaving here with a sense of calm.

We cannot explain the miracle of the Eucharist, or what happens when we take Holy Communion – but it is almost as if Jesus has spoken to the storms and churning within us and commanded, “Be still. Be muzzled”  Conquering well.

The calmness of Jesus – asleep in the boat and then taking control of the situation.

It is a sad fact of life that tribulations and disasters can and do befall individuals and communities.

We can well identify with the Psalmist (44.23) who wrote:

Rouse yourself! Why do you sleep, O Lord?

Awake, do not cast us off for ever!

Today’s fragile and sometimes stormy web of relationships is all too evident, perhaps heightened by the internet.

These are unsettling times.

We face the prospect of real incomes being squeezed.

Beyond our shores in other places there is instability – think Afghanistan for example, for now pushed out of the headlines.

In central Europe the intentions of Russia are unclear.

Yet through the life and teachings of Christ, we have an example to follow.

The world needs more “still small voices of calm” stilling the storms of everyday life.

Not only those tasked with calming international conflict, but also within the walls of the home or the workplace.

To conclude:

The world cries out for more “still small voices of calm.”

Let us keep at the forefront of our minds the example of Jesus calming the storm.

Let us remember that Jesus is who he is.

We pray that his calming presence may manifest itself in us.

Peter Wolton

20 February 2022