"Let us go to the other side..."

Here we see Tigran Ghulyan's  vivid painting of  Jesus Calming the Storm. Indeed, the Sea of Galilee truly experiences roiling storms of this kind. Largely surrounded by mountains which funnel great winds down to the water, violent storms produce waves that could very well take under a little boat and crew. 

But before the storm came upon them, Jesus has said to the disciples, "Let us set out for the other side of the lake." Mark4:35. That's an important line. Did it happen historically? Why would I want to doubt these things? But while I believe in the historicity of the Gospels, I also believe that there is much more to them than just bare facts. It is a problem for the Church, when we fail to come to the more, the underneath, the beyond.

Christ (the new human person) in the little boat is a type or image of each of us and all of us. And as such, he leads us to the other side. How simple: It's his idea! Jesus takes us, leads us, goes with us, to the other side. Can you name it? Perhaps:

To the other side of knowledge

To the other side of consciousness

To the other side of God's real ideas (not our puny concepts)

To the other side of compassion and kindness

To the other side of sobriety

To the other side of my life lived in a new integrity
To the other side of inner freedom
To the other side of real listening and dialogue
To the other side of blind obedience
To the other side of just believing
To the other side of what human means

Some people are not interested in going to the "the other side" with Christ. They'd rather hug the shore, though the shore is a shallow place. "I'm not interested in that justice stuff" the Catholic church-lady said dismissively. But then religion becomes (to use the words of Pope Francis) a comfortable nest, a laboratory, a bubble. 

But how can I set out for the other side? Thich Nhat Hahn, the Buddhist monk referenced here before, suggests that learning to practice mindfulness is key. The past and the future are not realities, only this precise moment is real. And now this moment. And now this one. 

Time slips through our fingers, like the sand in the hourglass. "Where did the time go," we ask. And we are mindless about much (most?) of it, being dutiful, wasteful, distracted, anxious, frantically goal-oriented, selfish, lazy, over extended, sugar-ed or caffeinated up, high, resentful, fake.

I'm thinking of how Americans approach food and table: the young dad who came into the diner with his four year old son. Who plopped the boy down in the booth and at once opened up his laptop, creating a wall between himself and the little boy who sat shredding paper napkins, the father ordering without once referring to the child and who didn't even look up when the food was delivered. Poor boy, poor dad - missing the moment with his son.

In-this-moment-mindfulness. Consciousness. Awareness. Looking. Observing. Listening. Contemplating. Inquiring. We've already set out for the other side.