Fr Gerry O'Shaughnessy SDB's reflection for the 19th Sunday of the year.
(Image: ΙΣΧΣΝΙΚΑ-888, CC BY-SA 3.0 , via Wikimedia Commons)

Today our Gospel takes us onto Lake Galilee; a huge expanse of water that was a source of both a thriving fishing industry and a trading highway. I think it is very interesting that Jesus choose the busy port town of Capernaum as his base when he began his public ministry: the Sea of Galilee was his front door to the world.

While on another journey across the Lake, his friends experienced a storm: something we can all identify with. These past months have forced us all to face an international storm that has not abated, even though it may have calmed down. We have to draw on a reservoir of strength and compassion that we never knew we had. We had to make changes in our ordinary everyday activities so that a trip to the supermarket becomes a new adventure. Some of us have coped well, while others have found the whole experience so hard; like Peter we have had the experience of sinking under the pressure.

In the first reading we see how the prophet Elijah reached such a low ebb that he thought of ending it all. The storms and challenges of his life were just too much: in the desert he proclaims that he is ready to die! In this time of pandemic we have all felt like Elijah and Peter at times: we need the support of others. Jesus, their Messiah comes to their aid walking on water - he responds to their cries by offering practical and real aid.

Peter, ever the impulsive one, is not prepared to sit back and await death in his crisis. He leaps out of the boat and, for a while, his faith carries him towards Jesus. Then he stumbles and his faith is not so strong and he falls beneath the storm and the waves. However, Jesus is there to offer the hand of friendship and support as the vicious storm is calmed and his friends can get on with life. Jesus shows himself to be a real friend to those in times of storms. In these difficult times you too can be that 'hand of friendship', reaching out to those whose energy is gone, who feel lost, hurt and betrayed. Once again, Jesus reminds us of the need for compassion and care. These long weeks of lockdown have been trying, especially for all of us who want to care for the welfare of others. However, we cannot pour from an empty jug: we cannot give what we haven't got. The poet Grace Crowell puts it far more beautifully:

Hold your cup up, dear child, for God to fill. He only asks today that you be still.

Grace Crowell: 'For the One Who Is Tired'

Elijah and Peter want to give and show compassion, but they need support from God. In those times of your life when you feel at rock bottom, the only one you can turn to is God. In this time of Covid-19 we turn to God to guide us through the storms we have to face. Those angels came to help and strengthen Elijah as he lay exhausted under the tree; they beg him to seek God. Notice that God is not in the storm or the earthquake or the fire - God is to be found in the still calmness. That calmness and peace that Jesus brought to the Sea of Galilee. In his outreach of compassion that we see in today's Gospel, Jesus wants us to share peace. In the silence after communion today perhaps you can listen to that still and gentle voice of God that wants to speak to you today - LISTEN!

When the rhythm of the heart becomes hectic,
Time takes on the strain until it breaks;
Then all the unattended stress falls in
On the mind like an endless, increasing weight.
The light in the mind becomes dim.
Things you could take in your stride before
Now become laborsome events of will.
Weariness invades your spirit.
Gravity begins falling inside you,
Dragging down every bone.
The tide you never valued has gone out.
And you are marooned on unsure ground.
Something within you has closed down;
And you cannot push yourself back to life.
You have been forced to enter empty time.
The desire that drove you has relinquished.
There is nothing else to do now but rest
And patiently learn to receive the self
You have forsaken in the race of days.
At first your thinking will darken
And sadness take over like listless weather.
The flow of unwept tears will frighten you.
You have traveled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come to take you back.
Take refuge in your senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through.
Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free.
Imitate the habit of twilight,
Taking time to open the well of color
That fostered the brightness of day.
Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.
Be excessively gentle with yourself.
Stay clear of those vexed in spirit.
Learn to linger around someone of ease
Who feels they have all the time in the world.
Gradually, you will return to yourself,
Having learned a new respect for your heart
And the joy that dwells far within slow time
(John O'Donohue)