By the Rev’d Hilary Willett

Season: 15th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Sea Sunday)

Readings: Job 38:4-11 | Acts 27:27-44 | Mark 4:35-41

When I turned sixteen years old, my parents took us on a road trip from Christchurch to Kaikōura. I was in a bit of a mood. It’s a decent trip and my parents were refusing to tell us where we were going or what we were going to do there. Even worse, they had told my younger siblings, who were both loving the fact that they knew something I didn’t.

Small tangent, in the sibling pecking order, the eldest is supposed to know what is happening. It’s just the correct order of things. Just a pro tip for all the parents and grandparents here today.

When we arrived at Kaikōura, we settled into a motel. I was told that we would be getting up very early the next morning. Spoiler: this did not improve my mood.

The next day, my family all got up at about 5 a.m. We yawned through our breakfasts and drove down to the city Esplanade. We arrived at a place called “Dolphin Encounters.”

I don’t think I have ever had such a rapid mood shift in my life. We were going to swim with dolphins!

Now, I should probably highlight, in case you’re tempted, that this is not an experience for everyone. The ocean beside Kaikōura is not often aqua blue like it is here. Here, the ocean is a refreshing dip. Even in winter. Not so with the South. It is that unique steely grey of truly cold water. The kind of water that leaves you breathless, with pins and needles all over until you go numb. But I think I’ve mentioned in previous sermons…I’m a water rat. Cold water doesn’t put me off. It’s a challenge.

Not only this, but the dolphin pods that you get taken out to are enormous. Our guide had a great time telling us that most dolphin pods are a bit more sedate. Most had mating seasons. Not these dolphins. They mated all year round. Which meant massive family pods. But the really special bit was that there was always the chance to see baby dolphins.“But,” our guide warned, “if you see one, be careful. Keep your arms by your sides. Do not reach out. The mother will attack you.”

On the boat, we were dressed in special wetsuits. They were especially buoyant and thickso they acted as a life-saver and an extra thermal layer while in the water. As I said, this water was cold. The buoyant wetsuits meant that most people couldn’t swim underwater. However, our guide winked at us. If you’re a good swimmer, you can try swimming straight down. It’s hard, but you can get under the surface that way.

After half an hour or so, we reached the dolphins. I am not exaggerating when I say there could have been one hundred. The water was foaming and writhing. There were so many. The boat stopped, and suddenly, we got into the water. At first, I found myself a little afraid. I was in a churning sea with much stronger and more wild creatures than myself. But as I saw the dolphins beginning to play with the humans among them, I lost my fear.

As I grew less afraid, I began setting my mind to the task of getting under the water. I was pretty okay at swimming at the time, but these wetsuits were quite a challenge. Then I saw it. A pair of dolphins, one smaller, one larger, swimming close together. I knew it was now or never. I took a big breath and dived, swimming as hard as I could straight down. I kept my arms at my sides. There was the mother and baby dolphin under the dark green water. I made a small sound under the water and they came over tome to investigate.

What happened next is something that I can only describe as a spiritual experience. We swam in circles together, deep under the water. The chirping and warbling of the dolphins was everywhere in the water. But it was peaceful there, and I was euphoric, swimming alongside this mother and her baby. I felt like God was with me down there, letting me experience something truly joyous and wild. Afterwards, I believe I was the happiest person on the boat home. Only a few people had managed to get under the waterand only I had seen a baby up close.

Today is Sea Sunday, and in our gospel reading Jesus quiets the storm. For the Israelites, the ocean was a deeply frightening place. The sea was a symbol for the ungovernable, the uncontrollable, the forces that human beings dare not contend with. This is why, in Job, it’s so meaningful when God says that they fixed limits and boundaries on the ocean. It is a stark reminder. The power of God is greater than the fullest might of primordial chaos.

But in Mark, the disciples see the waves. They feel the terror. While Jesus slept, the disciples became frantic. Eventually, they woke Jesus, asking him if he cared about them at all. They didn’t realise that God was in their midst. That the same God who established the foundations of the earth and sang the stars into being was among them. And after Jesus settles the storm, he gently asks: “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?”

Something I often think about when I think about the storms that we face in life is the importance of becoming strong spiritual swimmers. Eugene Petersen picks up on this theme a bit in his book Running with Horses. He highlights the importance of Christians being spiritually strong. To illustrate this idea, Petersen quotes Jeremiah: “If you have raced with foot-runners and they have wearied you, how will you compete with horses? And if in a safe land,you fall down, how will you fare in the thickets of the Jordan?”

See, what Petersen is getting at here is that in the journey of faith, we are expected to grow up spiritually. So that when we are asked to run with horses in the wilderness, or to swim deep with baby dolphins, or to have faith in a colossal storm, we can do it. When we are asked to change how we do things, to let go of what has been and trust God into a new reality, we can do it. Whether that new thing is the birth of a child, or a baptism into a community of faith, or working out what new thing God is calling the church to be, we need to be able to draw on spiritual strength. It is important for us to grow up and grow into new realities.

I believe a time is coming soon whenwe are going to witness significant changes in the church. It is likely that this change will be frightening and will require us to narrow down on what we actually value and what is actually necessary for us to continue forward. What do we actually need to declare the wonder of God for this generation, and what do we not need? How will we respond, as the church, to the storms of this world—division, war, poverty, isolation, and greed? Are we growing up to face these storms? Or are we falling down at the thought of doing things differently?

Most importantly, are we strong enough to hold on to our faith? When we are confronted with change, are we able to remember our hope—that God is with us in this storm? The same God who was there when the morning stars sang together? This God has not left us. Indeed, maybe this God is inviting us to get strong, dive deep, and experience something wild and joyous.