My
wife and I were recently in Boston. We drove into the city, parked
the car, and met Barbara's niece, Summer, who had come up from New
York City on the bus. The day was a humid one, with a forecast that
included the possibility of afternoon thunder showers.
We
enjoyed a walking tour of Boston Common and the Public Garden, as the
sun went in and out behind the clouds, and a soft breeze blew
occasionally to give some relief from the warm temperature. Then we
continued on foot quite a few blocks down Boylston Street, to visit a
tourist site Summer had seen advertised on a brochure, as the sky
became more and more overcast.
Afterwards,
we hopped on a city bus for a trip over the Charles River into
Cambridge, to get a bite to eat at our favorite Mexican restaurant.
As we rode down Mass Ave toward Harvard Square, we could see a
pitch-black line of angry-looking clouds moving in. When we stepped
off the bus, a few huge drops of rain were beginning to fall.
Hurrying along the sidewalk, we were buffeted by some strong gusts of
wind. Reaching our destination, we went inside and were shown to our
table.
No
sooner had we settled into our seats, than the sky outside unleashed
a torrent that was something to behold. Looking through the large
plate-glass windows, we could see massive quantities of water
bursting forth from the heavens. The wind had increased to what
looked like gale force, driving the downpour in a near horizontal
direction. As our waiter handed us our menus, he commented: "I've
never seen a white out condition like that, just from rain!"
Once
dinner was over, we headed back outside. There were still some
puddles as we walked along the street, but the rain had stopped
falling, the wind was no longer howling, the sun was beginning to
peak through the clouds again, and the air was no longer hot and
humid, but instead felt fresh, clean, and invigorating.
Reflecting
on that recent experience, I see some connections with the life of
faith.
Into
your life, there sometimes come dark and threatening clouds. The
specific form they take can vary. It might take the form of watching
on the nightly news as crude from an oil well continues to gush into
the waters off the Gulf coast. It might take the form of financial
insecurity caused by an anemic economy -- or worse yet, by the loss
of your job. It might take the form of a family member who is
struggling to find their way in life -- a loved one who is confused
or aimless, or who is plagued by physical or mental illness. It might
take the form of personal loneliness, sadness, or grief.
Whatever
the specific problem might be, it looms over you like a storm ready
to unleash its fury. The prospect of being caught by it out in the
open, makes you feel vulnerable and afraid.
It
would be pushing the metaphor too far to say that living by faith in
relationship with Jesus, will completely protect you from all the
effects of such storms. As though faith in Christ means you will
always be afforded a place to ride out the storm, completely
untouched by the downpour.
The
truth of the matter is that you do sometimes get wet -- in fact, you
may at times get drenched. Trouble may come that you wish with all
your heart could have been avoided altogether.
And
yet it is also true to say that Christ is
with you, when your soul encounters stormy weather. Christ is
with you, to provide protection and shelter, so your spirit does not
drown, is not swept away. Christ is
with you, to bring you safely through -- to that place and time where
once again you feel the sun shining upon your spirit, and a fresh,
clean breeze invigorating your soul.
