In today's liturgy, we recount the episode of the storm calmed by Jesus (Mark 4:35-41). The boat in which the disciples are crossing the lake is battered by wind and waves, and they fear they will shipwreck. Jesus is with them in the boat, but he is in the stern on a pillow, asleep. The disciples, frightened, cry out to him, "Teacher, we are drowning! Don't you care?" (v. 38).

And very often, we too, assailed by life's trials, have cried out to the Lord: “Why do you remain silent and do nothing for me?” Especially when we feel like we are sinking, because love or a project in which we had placed great hopes collapses; or when we are at the mercy of the insistent waves of anguish; or when we feel overwhelmed by problems or lost in the middle of the sea of life, without a road or a harbor. Or again, in moments when we lack the strength to move forward, because we are unemployed or an unexpected diagnosis makes us tremble for our health or that of a loved one. There are many times when we feel caught in the storm, or we feel almost finished.

In these situations, and in so many others, we too feel suffocated by fear and, like the disciples, risk losing sight of what is most important. On the boat, in fact, even though he is asleep, Jesus is there, and he shares with his followers everything that is happening. If, on the one hand, his sleep surprises us, on the other, it tests us. The Lord is there, present; indeed, he is waiting—so to speak—for us to involve him, to call upon him, to place him at the center of our experience. His sleep compels us to awaken. Because, to be disciples of Jesus, it is not enough to believe that God is there, that he exists, but we must engage with him, we must also raise our voices with him. Understand this well: we must cry out to him. Prayer, very often, is a cry: “Lord, save me!” I was watching the program “A sua immagine” (In His Image), today, World Refugee Day… all those who arrive in boats and, as they are about to drown, cry out: “Save us!”. In our lives too, the same thing happens: “Lord, save us!”, and prayer becomes a cry.

Today we can ask ourselves: what winds are battering my life, what waves are hindering my navigation and endangering my spiritual life, my family life, and even my mental well-being? Let us tell Jesus all this, let us tell him everything. He desires it; he wants us to cling to him to find shelter from life's storms. The Gospel recounts that the disciples approached Jesus, woke him, and spoke to him (cf. v. 38). This is the beginning of our faith: recognizing that we cannot stay afloat on our own, that we need Jesus like the sailors of the stars, to find our way. Faith begins with believing that we are not self-sufficient, with feeling that we need God. When we overcome the temptation to withdraw into ourselves, when we overcome the false religiosity that doesn't want to disturb God, when we cry out to Him, He can work wonders within us. This is the humble and extraordinary power of prayer, which accomplishes miracles.

Jesus, praying to his disciples, calms the wind and the waves. And he asks them a question that concerns us as well: “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?” (v. 40). The disciples had been gripped by fear because they were staring at the waves rather than looking at Jesus. And fear leads us to focus on difficulties, on serious problems, rather than on the Lord, who often sleeps. It is the same for us: how often do we remain fixated on problems rather than going to the Lord and pouring our worries out to Him! How often do we leave the Lord in a corner, at the bottom of the boat of life, only to awaken Him when we need Him! Let us ask today for the grace of a faith that never tires of seeking the Lord, of knocking at the door of His Heart. May the Virgin Mary, who in her life never ceased to trust in God, awaken in us the vital need to entrust ourselves to Him every day.

POPE FRANCIS

ANGELUS

Saint Peter's Square

Sunday, June 20, 2021