CO-WORKERS WITH GOD IN THE MIDST OF STORMS

Fr. Luke A Veronis

There is a story told about the building of the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. A traveler came upon the construction site back in 1163 and asked three different stone masons the same question: “What are you doing?”

The first man, wiping sweat from his brow, said flatly, “I am cutting stone.” The second man said, “I am earning wages to feed my family.” The third mason, however, stood up and looked at the traveler and said with great dignity, “I am building a cathedral for the glory of God.”

All three men were doing the exact same work. Same stone, same chisel, same dust in their lungs. But only one of them understood what he was actually part of. That man didn’t know that Notre Dame would take 182 years to be completed. But he did realize that it would be done long after he was gone. Others would finish what he started. Yet he worked with great dignity, joy and purpose because he knew his small, unglamorous labor was a part of something eternal.

This is the picture that Saint Paul gives to us in today’s Epistle reading. He tells the Christians in Corinth, as well as to us, “You are co-workers with God building His temple.” And then he says further, “Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?”

Think about the weight of this statement. We aren’t hired hands on someone else's project. We are not spectators watching God build something from a distance. Saint Paul calls us co-workers, fellow-laborers with God Himself. And more than that, we aren’t smply building a temple but we are the temple. Every one of us is a living stone in a building whose architect is God and whose foundation is Jesus Christ Himself.

Saint John Chrysostom marvels at this honor. He says there’s no greater dignity that could be given to a human being than to be called a fellow-worker with God. We aren’t a servant only but a co-worker. God has stooped down and put the trowel in our hands.

What a magnificent thought. Yet a serious responsibility. If I’m part of God's building, then the question is not abstract theology but something personal. What am I building in my life? And what am I building it out of?

Saint Paul doesn't let us off the hook here. He says some build with gold, silver, and precious stones while others build with wood, hay, and straw. One day, a “fire will test each one's work, of what sort it is.” The material we use in building our temple will be tested by this fire, the unexpected storms of life. We must honestly ask ourselves whether we are building something that can survive the fire, or something that will go up in smoke.

Which brings us to the season we began yesterday with the Dormition Fast. This Fast in honor of the Virgin Mary is one of four fasting periods throughout the year, but maybe the hardest one because of it falling in the midst of the summer. Great Lent comes as winter is ending and the Spring season seems to cooperate with the spirit of change, repentance, and new life. The August Fast, however, falls when our pools are open, the grill is out, our vacations are booked, and summer whispers to us, “relax, take it easy, this isn't the time for spiritual struggle.”

Of course, the Church, in her wisdom, says otherwise. She places this Fast here on purpose, in the midst of our rest and relaxation. Our spiritual struggle doesn't stop just because it's summer. We never take a vacation from working with God to build His temple. If anything, these two weeks remind us to gather ourselves, to get back on track, and to hold on to our spiritual disciplines even during the summer. This Fast isn’t an inconvenience to our summer plans but an invitation to keep building up for the glory of God throughout these restful days!

Now, anyone who has ever tried to build anything knows that construction rarely goes smoothly. The unexpected always threaten our plans. And this is where we connect with today’s Gospel reading. After feeding the five thousand, Jesus sends His disciples ahead of Him by boat while He goes up the mountain alone to pray. In the middle of the night, a ferocious storm arises. The winds and waves batter the boat as the disciples strain at the oars, exhausted and afraid. In the midst of this most dark and hopeless hour, they see a figure walking toward them on the water. They cry out in terror, thinking it's a ghost.

Jesus calls out to them, as He does to every one of us in our own storms, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.” The impulsive Peter cries out, “Lord, if it is You, command me to come to You on the water.” And Jesus says one word: “Come.” Peter defies the nature of the water and begins himself walking on water. As long as Peter's gaze stays on the Lord, the storm beneath his feet has no power over him. The winds howl and the waves crash, yet Jesus and Peter walk on water!

When, however, Peter turns his attention to the boisterous winds, he becomes afraid and begins to sink. “Lord, save me!'” he cries out and Christ reaches out and saves him.

Saint Nikolai Velimirovich reflects on this moment by noting that Peter didn't sink because of the wind and waves but because of his own wavering. The storm was outside him but his doubt dragged him down into the waters. Think about this. How often we blame our sinking on the storms we face, on our circumstances. Peter reminds us that the water didn’t change. It was his perspective. What sinks us is where our eyes focus on.

The very instant that Peter cries out, immediately Jesus stretched out His hand and helps him. Christ doesn’t wait for Peter to swim back to the boat on his own strength. He doesn’t lecture him about his lack of faith. He walks toward Him in the midst of the storm and takes hold of him immediately.

Do you see now how these two Scripture readings offer one message?

Saint Paul tells us we are God's building, co-laborers raising a temple for His glory. And the Gospel tells us that as we build, the storms of life will threaten to distract us and tear down what we are building, if we don’t keep our attention on Christ.

This is where the Fast of the Virgin Mary comes in. It gives us something practical, as well as inspiring, to reorient our attention on what is essential. May we use this season to refocus eyes on Christ. Every morning during these summer days before we check our phone or begin our day, before any storms start blowing, let’s turn our attention to Christ and find rest in His Presence.

Let’s use this Fast to build something that lasts. Take an honest inventory of yourself. What are we presently building that will glorify God? Let’s fast from food and discipline our bodies, but more importantly fast with our mouths, staying away from gossip and complaining and talk that tears down, fast with our hands and scroll less on your phones, and fast with our hearts, allowing only what will nourish and purify us to enter in.

During this Fast let’s keep our eyes focused on the Theotokos, the Mother of God. No one in human history built something more beautiful than she. She is the living temple who carried God Himself. Every weekday during this Fast, we will honor the Mother of God and offer the Paraklesis Service to the Theotokos. We will offer these services some morning and some evenings. Come and join us in honoring her every day and asking for her prayers and help.

And finally, when we get overwhelmed by the storms and winds that come crashing down all around us, cry out to God for help! Don't wait until you feel spiritually strong to come back to Christ. Peter shouted out as he was sinking, “Lord, save me.” Offer this most humble and honest prayer whenever you feel the waters of the storm pulling you under — in confession, in a simple prayer whispered in the car, every time you enter in this church. Lord help me. Save me!

Remember, we aren’t bystanders in God's work. We are His co-workers. We are the Church, temples where the Spirit of God chooses to dwell. The storms of life will batter us. Don’t focus on the raging storms of life but keep your focus on Christ, hearing his words “Take courage. It is I. Don’t be afraid.”