by James Webb
That day when evening came, he said to his disciples, “Let us go over to the other side.” Leaving the crowd behind, they took him along, just as he was, in the boat. There were also other boats with him.
Mark 4:35-36
Most attempts to put Jesus on film typically fail in one way or another, which is inevitable. If Jesus can’t be contained by a tomb, then there’s no way the screen can hold him. The gospels give us so many different aspects of Jesus’ character, while filmmakers tend to fall into the trap of emphasising one or two aspects that mean the most to him or her. If the filmmaker wants to get across the fact that Jesus was a charismatic, joyful figure then the actor wanders across the Middle East with a goofy grin on his face in every single scene, while if a gracious, gentle Jesus is preferred then he is expected to make gooey eyes at every single person he meets. It’s no wonder no-one has ever done the role justice. Read more
The wind and the waves crashed against the sides of the boat, so frail out there in the middle of the dark sea all by itself. Keeping steady footing was impossible, and keeping a steady head even harder.
And as the crew huddled together and screamed and wept and wished it were all a dream, The Man slept the sleep of the righteous, undisturbed and unafraid, the fury of nature powerless to break his peace. Read more
(Once again our church sent out some daily reflections over the Easter period. Below is the short piece that I wrote for Easter Sunday.)
While they were still talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.”
Luke 24:36
Sometimes I just don’t get Jesus. I mean, there the disciples are, having a conversation (and they were hidden away, so it was a private conversation), when all of a sudden Jesus appears and says, “Peace be with you.” I mean, I was always taught that it was rude to interrupt, but Jesus doesn’t seem to care. He intrudes and cuts them off in the middle of their discussion to offer them something that they hadn’t even asked for, like one of those annoying cold calls in the middle of dinner.
If Jesus really wanted to help, surely he would have gone out and about in Jerusalem and made sure that everyone saw him. Maybe he could have walked up to Herod’s palace, or Pilate’s residence, and knocked on the door with his nail-pieced hand and given them a telling-off. Then everyone would know that the disciples were right, and they wouldn’t have to hide any more, and everyone would want to listen to what they had to say.
Instead, he arrives when they are least expecting it, and gives them – of all things – peace. Peace is all right, I suppose, but what good is peace when everyone thinks you’re a heretic and wants you arrested? What good is peace when your whole world has been turned upside down, and you’re about to undertake the most incredible and demanding adventure you’ve ever known? And when Peter and the other disciples stood there, in the future years, awaiting their own violent deaths because they had followed Jesus, do you think that they stood there and said, “Thank goodness that at least I have peace.”?
I mean, is that the best thing that you can think of? The thing that you would want? For Jesus to intrude unexpectedly in the middle of your doubts and questions and struggles and say, “My peace I give to you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled.”? Is that really what the resurrection story is about? Is that really what we’re supposed to do with Easter during the rest of the year?
Yes. Yes, it is. “In this world you will have trouble,” said Jesus, “but take heart, for I have overcome the world.” Because of Easter, Jesus is able to interrupt any struggle, any difficulty, any challenge and bring peace. You might prefer him to take away your problems, but he never promised that. Instead, he brings something better. Peace in the midst of problems. We need Jesus to intrude and offer us this peace, because there’s nowhere else that it can be found.
