Movin' In the Storm?
Pentecost9a14, August 10, 2014 (Matthew 14:22-33 with Genesis 37:1-28 in bg)
We're all in the same boat. Do you believe that? . . .
Let's play with this for a moment. Here in this place today, we are literally in the same "boat". The part of the church that we are sitting in is not called the sanctuary but the nave. There is an important difference. A sanctuary signifies one of two things – a safe place but at the same time also a holy place, a place set apart, a place where God most assuredly dwells. We near the sanctuary at communion, to proclaim the lessons, to serve the meal. But the rest of the time at worship we are actually in the nave. Nave comes from a latin word from which we derive such English words as navy. A nave has as its root a "boat". As Christians when we come to worship we are literally sitting, standing in the same boat. Nor are boats always to be moored. They are often to set out somewhere, to have as part of their mission being on a journey.
So this morning we are literally in the same "boat", the nave. But there is also a far deeper truth to this. Today, the disciples in Matthew's Gospel are in a boat on the Sea of Galilee literally being tossed to and fro. Occasionally we are tossed to and fro, by forces that may be beyond our full comprehension and certainly beyond our personal control.
I read a story yesterday about a tiny Indonesian girl who had been caught up in the great tsunami that struck her country 10 years ago. 170,000 people died in that tragedy. Until just recently that girl was considered one of them. But now she has been found – over a hundred miles from her first home. She has been raised by an amazing woman. Now they have both been united with that girl's birth parents. Talk about being tossed to and fro.
There are the realities of Gaza, of Syria, of Iraq, of the Ebola outbreak in Liberia and Nigeria. There are the tragedies of people being struck by cars, whether they are walking, cycling, running, driving. These seem to be just news items. But then something happens to us, or to someone we personally care about. Illness or another tragedy. Then we realize that we are in the same boat! Sometimes we are blown right out of our boats.
Many of the early disciples knew a lot about the boats of their time. Some of them were fishermen. Nevertheless, such knowledge couldn't guarantee their safety. There are forces that overcome human knowledge, expertise. One night those disciples are out in their boat. Jesus has even sent them on this trip. A storm comes up. The boatmen are fighting it with all they have. They aren't afraid of the storm. It's not the first nor the last storm they will be in. In the middle of the night Jesus approaches them but in a way that they could never have expected. Is it possible that Jesus sometimes approaches us in ways we don't expect – maybe in our fear, or through an enemy, or someone we didn't think was all that "special"?
Now Jesus comes to them in this storm, walking on the water, treading on what for them would have been seen as a place where chaos or evil could have erupted. They didn't imagine Jesus would come to them, in the midst of this chaos. His walking on the water frightens, even terrifies them. They wonder if that which approaches them is a ghost. Many of us, when confronted by ghosts are likewise terrified...
IMMEDIATELY, in the midst of their fear Jesus speaks to them. "TAKE HEART, IT IS I. Do not be afraid!"
What can we do with this – with Jesus speaking to us in the midst of our fears, "Take heart!" He is with us! Will we, might we trust him, enough to take heart, to keep on moving, even to begin following him despite the danger, the resistance, the uncertainty of how it will all turn out? (Pause)
Peter is an interesting guy. He has some faith. He doesn't just sit there like a bump on a log. He doesn't intellectualize about what's going on in some detached fashion. He responds. "If it is you Lord, command me to come to you on the water."
Jesus says, "COME!"
Miraculously, Peter does. Getting out of the boat into the crashing waves, he begins to move toward Jesus!
But then Peter notices the howling wind, the height of the waves. Fear overtakes him. Peter, the rock, begins to sink. He urgently cries out, "Lord, save me!"
What happens next? (Pause)
Jesus IMMEDIATELY reaches out his hand and catches him.
Then Jesus says to Peter, "You of little faith, why did you doubt?"
I have often wondered how Jesus says this. Was it with a tone of condemnation: "You of LITTLE faith, why did you DOUBT?"
Or was Jesus' question uttered with love and a consternation that sometimes flows from such love, a consternation that is tempered by hope? Peter has little faith. But this isn't a bad thing. In Matthew, little faith can move mountains, grow into a weedy tree that brings shelter to all kinds of amazing creatures.
Perhaps we are in the same boat as Peter. Our faith like Peter's may vacillate. That's what doubt is, vacillation. Sometimes we forget God. "Summertime and the living is easy – fish are jumping and the river is high". We may forget God, not pray, not worship on holidays – forgetting that holidays are really holy days, days set aside both for us to rest and to joyfully thank God.
But when the chaos hits, when the tsunami strikes, when illness draws near, when we lose our job or God forbid our memories – well then like Peter as we are sinking down, sinking down, may we also desperately and perhaps hopefully cry out, "Lord save us."
Don't we see, that whatever our storm God in Jesus has been moving toward our boat all the time? Can't we see that in Jesus God gets right into our boat, not just in the nave of this building but everywhere we go? Unlike Peter, we don't have to test Jesus' "identity". Isn't dying for us and being raised for us enough for us to know that God loves us, that God is with us?.
With those early disciples we also can take heart. Even though the storm is raging, no forces of evil or tragedy can separate us from him.
So, we can move on. By God's grace and power we can do what Jesus calls us to. Even when we are beset by fear, encountered and battered by forces so much greater than ourselves, He is our Saviour. He reaches out to grab us, to lift us up out of whatever depths we are ensnared by. He will not let us go!! And in that, dear people is our hope, our life, our deliverance, our salvation. Lord, as you call us to come, may we so follow, whatever the storm. Amen.