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Mark 4:35-41

³⁵ On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, ‘Let us go across to the other side.’ ³⁶And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. ³⁷A great gale arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. ³⁸But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’ ³⁹He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still!’ Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. ⁴⁰He said to them, ‘Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?’ ⁴¹And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, ‘Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?’

Oh, how many times have I wished to be taken away from the crowded madness around me! From the demands of children, family and work; from today’s near constant attack on the environment, justice, and democracy; and from the voices inside myself judging my efforts and dampening my dreams. Please, Jesus, take me to the other side for just a little while and let me leave these crowds behind!

Reading this scripture, though, I was reminded of a moment when I yearned for the crowds, not the relief, and was unexpectedly taken to the other side.

At the time, I was younger and feeling very alone in NYC. My loneliness had grown so large and feverish that I did everything I could to avoid being by myself. On this day, I had joined a hiking meet-up group, looking forward to being in the woods (my happy place) and having some company. The group was extremely large, though, and the banter of 50+ people quickly drowned out the voice of nature. To make matters worse, the leader was a poor fit for the role: He disparaged slower hikers, reminding everyone of his need to catch a 3pm train back to Manhattan, and he failed to mark the turns. Our large group quickly splintered into several smaller groups based on pace. And though I was in the middle group, I was concerned that the slow group (including a woman who’d somehow lost the sole of her boot) would not be able to catch up and find their way. Thinking that I knew mine, I turned back to guide them.

But I made a wrong turn. At once, I had no idea where I was. I’d lost the group in front of me and behind. I had no cell service, and I was utterly alone.  I began to panic.

Then, I stopped! Sitting on a rock, I pulled out my lunch and breathed. I decided not to think for a while. A deer walked into the clearing and gazed at me. The light shimmered through the foliage like a waterfall. The leaves swirled lazily down to the ground. In that holy moment, it seemed that God was right there with me.

When I rose to leave, still not knowing how I’d get out of the woods, astonishingly, I immediately ran into the woman with the broken boot and her friend. The friend had managed to telephone her mother – who’d contacted the state police, and we were ‘rescued’ in minutes.

In the poetic irony of that day (seeking a crowd, finding God in solitude; trying to save someone with a broken sole who ended up saving me…), it was if God was saying to me, ‘Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?’ 

God’s ways are bigger and more glorious than we can imagine. Let us be still and allow Him to be with us.

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.  Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way  and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging. Psalm 46

Dear Sisters & Brothers in Christ,

We are in the midst of rapid change, a lot of uncertainty and heightened fear.  With the common good in mind, and for the foreseeable future, we will be conducting church virtually. There will be no church gatherings in the church, and all of our small groups and prayer groups will be conducted virtually as well, including choir. Choir members will be hearing from Saya in the next day about virtual rehearsals.  Small group members will be hearing from their small group leader directly about virtual meetings. 

We will live stream through Facebook Live from the Church of the Holy Apostles FB page with a link from the homepage of our website www.holyapostlesbrooklyn.com .  The weekly bulletin will be posted on our website homepage as well so that we can all follow along - hymns will be included!  

Our Schedule is as follows:
9:15am: This Little Light
10am: Sunday Liturgy

PLEASE NOTE: We have moved up This Little Light to 9:15.

There will be questions over the coming weeks about Easter. We are taking this week to week and will be in regular touch with you. We ask you to be in touch with us as well and with each other. Make a commitment to be in touch with one or two people from church each week, checking in on them. Isolation is a real risk in the coming weeks - if you need someone's contact information, please email us. Our strength as a community is shown forth how we care and love each other, especially in times like these. We cannot forget that Jesus told us to love our neighbors and to help others the best we can.  

We will be together in person again soon friends.  And in the meantime, join us at 9:15 or 10am Sunday through Facebook live. Carve that time out for yourself and your spiritual well-being. 

We remain steadfast and faithful in the midst of chaos and fear.  God is our refuge.

A parting piece of advice - none of us will regret being too cautious.  Please be cautious.

Do not hesitate to reach out to us and request a prayer or a call. Click here if you have a prayer request. 

If you do not have Facebook, but would like to participate on Sunday, please email us and we will help you set it up.  As long as you have a computer, smartphone or iPad,  you will be able to set up Facebook.

In peace with love,

The Mothers

Mark 4:21-34

²¹ He said to them, ‘Is a lamp brought in to be put under the bushel basket, or under the bed, and not on the lampstand? ²²For there is nothing hidden, except to be disclosed; nor is anything secret, except to come to light. ²³Let anyone with ears to hear listen!’ ²⁴And he said to them, ‘Pay attention to what you hear; the measure you give will be the measure you get, and still more will be given you. ²⁵For to those who have, more will be given; and from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.’

²⁶ He also said, ‘The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, ²⁷and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. ²⁸The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. ²⁹But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.’

³⁰ He also said, ‘With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? ³¹It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; ³²yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.’

³³ With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; ³⁴he did not speak to them except in parables, but he explained everything in private to his disciples.

The lamp set under the bushel. The mustard seed that grows into the flourishing tree. The farmer who rises to sow her seed night and day. I have heard these parables too many times to count. I grew up in an Evangelical tradition that emphasized reading the Bible quite constantly and literally. I would imagine that even if the Biblical text had featured less prominently in my early life, I’d almost have to be raised under a bushel to never have heard parable “takeaways” like, “you reap what you sow” or “all you need is the faith of a mustard seed.”  

When I sat down to read today’s text, my intention was to practice Missy and Deacon John’s suggestion to read slowly, prayerfully, impressionistically, and with the eyes and ears of my heart. What happened instead is that I had to force myself not to skim, to gloss, to make assumptions. It was so tempting for me to reduce these words of Jesus to “lessons” I had already learned. I love to learn, and I’m ever in danger of my own desire to “check off” more boxes of knowledge and experience. For me, spiritual practice is discipline because it’s a slow schooling in how much can’t be known, is ever unknown about myself, the world, the Sacred. To read this way is to feel my way into all that is unresolvable in a text like this. Here Jesus says, “there is nothing hidden except to be disclosed; nor is anything secret except to come to light.” Later we read that Jesus only spoke in these cryptic parables, but explained it all to his disciples in private. Far from unspooling into tidy threads of wisdom, I find that parables invite me to get more comfortable with discomfort in messy and sometimes tangled bits and bobs of story and meaning. 

This is, in my experience, a more authentic reflection to life, at least to mine. Spiritual practices and communities don’t always make clear the path in front of me. These are scary, uncertain times. There are no easy answers or straightforwardly accessible wisdom. I want those things sometimes, of course. Perhaps this is why I first read today’s text like a snack to be scarfed down after a tough workout! It’s much more difficult and much more powerful to listen quietly and slowly to the uncertainties and mysteries of the text and of my own heart.