Every week, during the school year, there is something that happens in the children’s area that I suspect most of us do not see.

In the first part of the 19th century, Egypt was a British colony and the age of egyptology was just starting to take off, with these massive archaeological efforts uncovering ancient tombs and artifacts arriving in British museums for a captivated public.

Sermon by Student Rabbi Benjamin Russell

There are several of these “crossing” scenes in the Gospel of Matthew. The gospel is funny that way: the disciples and Jesus are always on the move, taking a path that doesn’t seem to make sense. Always traveling from here to there, crossing the Sea of Galilee only to go back again. And so these crossings seem to have a deeper, symbolic meaning. A challenging situation often awaits them on the other side—a test of some kind or an encounter that leaves them changed. And on at least two occasions, the challenge comes on the journey itself, when the disciples find themselves out on the water.

I did exactly one year of high school marching band. One. If my high school’s system of pitting academics against the arts wasn’t enough to convince you of the validity of my choice, I challenge you to wear something wool outside for a few hours in Lower Alabama. Our practice field was a regulation football field surrounded by an asphalt track and concrete beyond, an island of grass on which a few hundred teenage souls clung to life in a sea of excess heat. The kind of heat where the mere thought of food sounds nauseating…you would think.

If you have grown up with any knowledge of scripture and the teachings of Jesus, you almost certainly know that parables were Jesus’ preferred mode of teaching: these curious stories or images that, if we read them at the depth they invite, often leave us with more questions than answers. Or at minimum, open our imaginations to a wide array of inferences and meanings.