Faith is a bit like time-travel

Mark 4:35-40

35 That day when evening came, [Jesus] said to his disciples, “Let us go over to the other side.” 36 Leaving the crowd behind, they took him along, just as he was, in the boat. There were also other boats with him. 37 A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped. 38 Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke him and said to him, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?” 39 He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm. 40 He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?”

I imagine Jesus doing something almost like time-traveling when He sleeps in the storm on a pillow of calm faith. Presently it was storming furiously, but in His reality Jesus could sleep as if He were already in the calm waters of the future. He was demonstrating a way of living from His Father’s reality toward earthly circumstances, and He seems puzzled that the disciples hadn’t learned to do the same thing yet. The question of how or whether we can live in authority over storms we have the faith to sleep in has followed me for at least the last 14 years (1), and while I haven’t gotten near the bottom of it yet, I believe that it opens a door to one of the most valuable patterns that the Bible gives us for thriving in the already-but-not-yet of anxious liminal spaces.

Four months after I graduated from art school, phrases like Market Crash shakes world ran above the fold in what seemed like every newspaper in the check-out line. It was September of 2008, and I spent a good amount of time wondering what this “financial crisis” would mean for my ability to work towards a vocation in the arts, or even to simply repay my student loans.

As I read news stories about people losing their retirement accounts, and entire neighborhoods of new homes being emptied by waves of foreclosures, God was inviting me to practice a new dimension of faith that was a tiny bit like time-traveling, and I almost missed it. 

Worry is a potent creative block, and in 2008 I could feel my newspaper-inspired anxiety about the future shriveling my vision when I began work on the one freelance design job I had secured at the time. God was inviting me to be more like Jesus sleeping as if the water was already calm; He was challenging me to work in the studio as if all of my questions about the uncertain future were already sorted out. A good friend once asked me how I would make art if I actually believed the Kingdom of God was already here, and of course the answer is freely overflowing with joyful gratitude and worshipful knowledge of the Father’s goodness. Life is full of storms and uncertainty both in and out of liminal spaces, and it has been so life changing for me to consistently think back to the dozens of miracles that grew my faith in the years after graduation. Testimonies of free housing, “chance” encounters with the right client at the right moment, and “random” gifts of food are just a few of the stories that have encouraged me years later when I have encountered fresh uncertainties.

In Revelation the church overcomes the accuser by the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony (2). This image contains a profound truth that also sparks my imagination towards time-travel: Intentionally cultivating the memory of God’s nature in our past can launch our faith (3) towards and through future storms. The past can influence the future, and faith has the power to transport the calm waters of God’s coming Kingdom into our hearts in the present, even before He makes all things new (4). I love how Jesus paints this dynamic for certainty-dependent Pharisees in Luke’s gospel:

Luke 17:20-21

20 One day the Pharisees asked Jesus, “When will the Kingdom of God come?” Jesus replied, “The Kingdom of God can’t be detected by visible signs. 21 You won’t be able to say, ‘Here it is!’ or ‘It’s over there!’ For the Kingdom of God is already among you.”

If faith is (itself… like actually is in itself) the substance of things hoped for (5), then the question of how to sleep in storms seems related to the question of how to calm them. Uncertainty and liminality can be deeply unsettling, but the reality that Gods’ peace surpasses our temporal understanding of wave dynamics (6) can transport us closer to the Father’s reality, which is the fullness of life… for sure. 

Footnotes:

1 Bill Johnson is the teacher who I first heard pose this question in the context of Mark 4:35-40.

2  Revelation 12:11

3  and even the faith of those around us

4  Revelation 21:5

5  Hebrews 11:1

6  Philippians 4:7

Henrik Söderström is an artist, designer and professor at IWU. He and his wife Dottie live in Marion with their two hilarious kids. They have a vegetable garden with a great compost pile, and they try to feed the neighborhood cats when they can.

If you want to see Henrik’s work, here is his website: henriksoderstrom.com.