IF THIS IS NOT the wettest June on record, we have to be coming close! As puddles turn to ponds and then small and large lakes, many of us, given our recent and seemingly unending rain pattern, can relate to the large body of water in our scripture, and we can all relate to storms of life.

While we can indentify our storms, most of us, if we're really honest, are like the disciples in our scripture in that we, too, wonder about Jesus. Intelligently, we, the congregation and the confirmands alike, still hold good questions, good questions that inform and guide, good questions that lead to connections, good, thoughtful questions that lead to direction and understanding.

"Who is this man?" the disciples asked each other. To find out, we're going to look at the sudden storms of life that we experience today.  Through our dads and our confirmation grads, we'll learn through a cat named Little Boots that what it takes to keep our boat from rocking is faith. 

First, let's understand a little more of the storm in our story before we apply it to our dads, our grads, and this furry little friend with four white feet.  The 'lake' on which Jesus and the disciples were on is actually the Sea of Galilee. Surrounded by hills, the Sea of Galilee is a body of water 680 feet below sea level. Winds blowing across the land intensify close to the sea, often causing violent and unexpected storms, which is what we have here in our story. 

Any dad will tell you that he's had some violent or unexpected storms come his way, and the best of them, hands down, don't get lost in the storm; they stay put. Now fear like the disciples had is something guys don't want to admit to have happen in their lives—it's just not a John Wayne or Jean Claude Van Damme thing to fess up to—fear, who, me?—but dads who run out on committed relationships, or dads who fly when things get tough, are men who are fearful. Today, instead of focusing on men who cannot commit, let's consider those whose boats have rocked and have stayed on course. Let's consider the unsung hero who could have left but didn't, who could have run at the sign of a bad storm, but stuck it out instead. Let's name what these men have in their lives, and that's their faith in Christ Jesus.

And every man can have this, so, on this Father's Day, let's celebrate the men in our lives who, with faith in Jesus, stay calm when high waters smack the sides of their boats.   

You may or may not have had the best dad out there. Your dad may or may not be in your life now—either through death, divorce or a difficult time or two, your dad may or may not be nominated for a Father of the Year award, but that's not the point here. For some, move past your mourning for a minute; others set aside some tough memories to see that we, as a community and as a church, need to rally around and support all those dads—those devoted dads, those God-fearing dads, those soccer or baseball coaching, car pool driving dads who, though they may want to quit some days, still hang in there. We need to focus on those dads that love through their pain, and teach with their presence.

Some of this religion stuff—honestly—can seem a little too touchy-feely because these two words 'touchy-feely' are not necessarily what comprise a guy's world. In fact, sociologists dubbed the term 'the sensitive male' in the mid-1990s, long after many dads had already been fathers, so how to be a dad today is just as challenging as it might have been to be dad a generation or two or three ago. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't be there for them because, if we get right down to it, the one thing that holds these guys to where they want and need to be—the one core trait or attribute they all have—and it's not that they all have Craftman's tools and extensive, nearly live-in garages—no, all these dads who stay in the rocking boat have faith.

We all have problems. In fact, God doesn't shield us from them. The Creator of the universe never promises to protect us from hardships. The fact is God has not promised us a storm-free life. We have problems with our health, our finances, our friends, and, hmm, maybe with our parents who do and don't do the coolest of things. You've noticed that this is not heaven where everything is perfect and where God's will is perfectly done. We get hurt, and we hurt others. That's why we're to pray, "Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven" because it's done perfectly in heaven. The Bible story Alyssa Clarkson read for us illuminates three things about how it's not perfect here: one, storms are inevitable—they happen to us all; two, they are unpredictable—they can come out of nowhere; and three, they are impartial—they happen to believers and unbelievers alike, but the dad who hangs on is the dad we need to help and support in our church. Stop and think: what can we do for these fathers, or father-type guys? How do we let them know, truly, that they're appreciated? Token gifts are swell, and we have them to pass out, but ask, whether or not it's your own father, how are you letting a dad who cares know how much he means to you?

It's a time to show love. It's time to show appreciation. Many of you have let me know how delighted you are that our confirmands are being blessed today. Now that you've let me know, let them know. And some lame 'hi, it's good to see you' while standing at the punch bowl in the Lecture Hall after church is not going to cut it here, folks; no, as with devoted dads who really put their faith out there, it's time for us all to step up. It's time for us all to be intentional and let these young people know, these young people who metaphorically stepped into the boat with Jesus and are setting sail, what it means to you and to this church that they've made this commitment, and will continue to make the commitment required for them to be confirmed in the church.  The words are here in this sermon, the ministry is there, in the Lecture Hall, when you're face to face. Be intentional. Be bold. Be deliberate. I don't know them that well. They're talking with someone else. Maybe I'll share something later. Bologna. Rally your words and let these people know that you've been in a boat with Jesus, that you've had some troubling, unsure or downright scary times—and talk to them—talk to them about your faith.

They need to hear from you. They've taken a step toward responsibility in joining the church. Take the responsibility you have to share with them how and when you set sail, or how and when your sails were stripped, ripped or void of wind to move you along. Talk. Share.

I've shared that these students are insightful. They bring to their journey good questions.  One question is, why do I have to do this? I don't have to become a member of this church to come to this church. I don't need a special card or slip of paper that enables me to sit in a pew here and worship, so why should I join?

Directly and indirectly, they've asked this question to me. In response, I've told them about the storms.  I've told them that, no matter who you are, tough situations will come your way.  I've told them that journeying with Christ as your guide and as your friend will make even the harshest storms more manageable.  I've told them this. I've shared examples of this. Their mentors, Paula and Lisa, have told them this and included personal stories and witness to this. Now it's your turn. Tell them what faith means to you. Tell them what joining this church means to you. Tell them, with your words and your stories, what it means to not be fearful, but faithful.

I know you, or as member and then minister, I know most of you. Some of you will try to find excuses.  Some of the excuses—oh, they'll sound good, maybe, but that's junk and you know it. It's time. Folks, it's really time. It's time to get real; it's time to get honest; it's time to be the loving congregation we are, with God, destined to become.  And it starts today. It starts now with the looks you give one another, with the faith you live and with the faith you share with one another.

Faith isn't something we always see. The story I'll conclude with is not my own because it's a cat story, and, as most of you know, I'm a dog man. This story we end with should inspire you. Enable it to get to places in your faith that, for many here, are not so easy to express. This story comes from a UCC minister named Tabitha Brently, from First Congregational-UCC, Stowe, Vermont.

A container of Kentucky Fried Chicken appeared to be dancing in the middle of the dark street, with a life of its own, so we stopped to investigate.

Out of the chicken box crawled a terribly skinny kitten with long black fur and four bright white paws. She had been making that box dance, as she tried to lick out the last crumb for nourishment. Now, she purred, leaning into me with her whole body. We adopted that little stray and named her "Little Boots."

Little Boots thrived with cat food, a trip to the vet and lots of love. But she remained very small, and displayed the silliest behavior. She would sneak up on our other cats, as if to attack them, but she would be right in front of them, in plain sight. By the time she pounced, the cats had moved away. She couldn't figure out how they knew she was coming. Her storms were very mild and mostly missed.

It was only when we found her walking on a second story porch rail, precariously sticking her paw out into the air feeling for her next step, that we realized the obvious. Little Boots was blind.

From then on, that cat became my hero. Nothing stopped her. When she ran into a wall, she turned back and ran the other way. When she walked into a piece of furniture, she remembered where it was the next time. She didn't sit still. Her little white paws were always out in the air in front of her, testing, to find her next foothold. She was tiny and the world was dangerous.

Little Boots walked by faith, not sight.  Today, in our story of Jesus and the boat, stick your feet out there.  Put your faith out there. Celebrate our dads who, through commitment, also walk by faith and not sight. Recognize our fathers, who, like the cat, keep getting up and trying again. And talk with our confirmands who, in this world today, can be in for worse places than second floor porch rails trying to find their next foothold.   Help them as they need to hear the stories of your walks. And for all of us, dads, grads, cat lovers and to whose fearless enough to recognize that they are tiny and that the world is dangerous, find comfort and companionship in your faith by celebrating your faith. Yes, find comfort, companionship and celebration in your answer to the disciple's scriptural question, "Who was this man?"