The storm outside my home is rattling the windows and flooding the foundation. Fortunately, the windows are tightly fitted and there is a drain in the concrete floor of the house. Yet inside myself there is a storm that distresses me day after day. There is not enough time to accomplish my tasks well. There is not enough strength to pray wholeheartedly with the news. There is not enough compassion to heal my broken family. I need a miracle.
The first part of the Gospel story in the sixth chapter of John* is the only miracle reported in every Gospel. So I turn to it in a mixture of desperation and hope. It’s important. It’s applicable. How can the Spirit speak to me through it and illuminate my struggles?
Several things strike me. First, it’s closely linked with another story. On “the other side” of the Sea of Galilee, five thousand hungry people surround Jesus and the only resource, according to Andrew, is a boy’s bundle of five loaves and two fish. But Jesus says sit down on the grass, gives thanks and breaks the bread. This thanksgiving in communion becomes an abundant feast – such a feast that after everyone’s hunger is satiated there are twelve baskets of leftovers.
The closely linked next event in John 6 begins in the evening, in the dark, when the disciples set out to re-cross the sea, without Jesus. A strong wind troubles the sea and they become even more afraid when they see Jesus walking on the water toward them. He gets in the boat and says, “Do not be afraid. It is I.”
Perhaps these two stories are one story. How are they related? “It is I.” Whether the storm is a situation with grossly inadequate resources (like a field of hungry people and no food) or a fearful crossing of turbulent waters (like the disciples rowing back to Capernaum), there is Someone who shows us abundant resources. There is Someone who can comfort every fear. That, it seems to me, is the eternal story. That is the One miracle that I have to take in, over and over again.
This, it seems to me, is the heart of faith. There is Someone, ever-present, inviting a different take on reality. The biblical stories continue to echo through time and through my life, speaking truth and reinvigorating faith. They refresh my memory of many stories, from Moses’ to my own. I remember the manna in the desert and “I Am” prodding and protecting the Israelites. I remember Jesus in so many ways testing the
disciples’ faith and providing all that was needed to strengthen and nurture their trust. He demonstrated an ongoing communion with “I Am” thus accessing a radical new form of power, unlimited and free. I, and all of us, are continually offered co-participation.
What do I see, again and anew? The intimacy of communion fortifies new life. Giving thanks honors and deepens kin-dom authority. Breaking bread nourishes authentic community. These basic things, embraced by ineffable Mystery, renew faithful living and empower a new world.
So my spiritual practice must be a daily deeper letting go of my egocentric ways, to allow Jesus to illuminate the dark and steady my course. To continually turn to the “I” present and available in every storm.
*John 6:1-21
-Ann Dean, Dayspring Retreat Mission Group
Reflection Questions
- Is there a storm in your life that you can open to Someone in trust?
- Can you remember a crisis that was miraculously transformed?
- How do you experience breaking bread with family, friends or community?
