I Need to Start Writing Boldly

"If a writer is so cautious that he never writes anything that cannot be criticized, he will never write anything that can be read. If you want to help other people you have got to make up your mind to write things that some men will condemn." Thomas Merton, Seeds of Contemplation. NY: Dell, 1949, p. 65

The Miracle Isn't the Walking on the Water Part

I.N.I.

a sermon to be preached on the 9th Sunday after Pentecost, 10 August 2014 at Our Savior Lutheran Church, Arlington, VA, and based on the Holy Gospel for the day: St. Matthew 14:22-33

Grace, mercy, and peace be yours in Christ Jesus our Lord,

Dear Friends in Christ,

What is this story in the middle of Matthew's Gospel all about? It might depend on just where you focus. 

For example, imagine yourself as one of the disciples. You've just participated in the miraculous feeding of the 5,000 -- passed out that never-ending bread and fish with your own hands -- and eaten of it yourself. You and your buddies were still marveling over just how that happened and then how each of you had picked up a basket full of leftovers. You were still in the glow of all that when Jesus, your Master, hurried you all off in the boat, shoved you all out on the Sea of Galilee himself, and as evening deepened turned his back on you in order to talk more with the crowds. So you start rowing. And rowing and rowing. You probably take turns at the oars because you are working basically all night, trying to make progress against a strong headwind, muscles aching, sweat dripping. So if you're one of the 11 (we will leave Peter, the 12th, out for a minute) this story might one about being on a spiritual high and being brought down to a physical low, wrapped up with this stunning concluding act of walking on the water.

 The crowds, the common people and their leaders, were bookends to this narrative. The 5,000 were fed and nourished by Jesus in last week's Gospel, and as we pick up the storyline this morning they're being dismissed by Jesus. Not much going on there except that by now evening had pretty fully come and they were all still out in the deserted place, away from the surrounding villages. And who knows but maybe Jesus miraculously provided oil lamps for each family group, or sent along angels (the crowds would have thought they were some of the disciples) to guide them safely back to town for the night, back home to their own beds. Then just past the end of the story crowds on the other side of the lake recognized Jesus and brought their sick and needy from all over the region for healing that they knew, that they believed, Jesus could (and did) provide. Maybe some of the people in the morning heard the disciples tell in wide-eyed amazement "You won't believe what just happened out on the lake last night!". But mostly the crowds thought of this as a story of comfort and contentment and fulfillment and peace; a story of full bellies and full hearts; a story of restored vigor and restored health.

And Peter, what about Peter? Ah, he was there during the feeding miracle, of course, though he isn't specifically named. He was there when they were sent away by Jesus. As one of the fishermen among the troupe he would have been comfortable and 'at home' on the boat among the oars and ropes, in the smell of the open water, feeling the rise and fall of the boat on the waves. Even the contrary wind all night would have been familiar to Peter, as sudden storms are common on the Sea of Galilee. Peter was certainly more at home on the water than, say, Matthew the tax collector, or the farmers and scholars among the Twelve. He knew what to expect out in the middle of the large lake and how to deal with it. And then he finds all that comfort and familiarity shaken through and through as surely as if they had struck an iceberg. Some one of them glanced off to the side, or maybe looked up over the stern when the boat was at the top of one of the waves. Somebody saw something out there on the water and called out about it. They all looked, certain it was some kind of ghost, some kind of phantom.

I mean, whatever it was, it actually looked like Jesus out there walking on the surface of the water. I imagine the first couple of them said "Man, I must be working too hard here; I'm seeing things!" But then they all agreed that clearly this was a ghost, an apparition of some kind. Except that the figure spoke to them: "It's me, don't be afraid." Peter, who had apparently not gotten the memo that said 'don't tempt the Lord, your God', tosses out a challenge, which is immediately accepted, and next thing you know he's clambering down the side of the boat to the water, stepping out, and walking. This likely seems to us to be Peter's high point in the story, the thing he'd remember most. Though it seems to me that over time he would have remembered more what happened next: when he started to sink, and called out to the Lord, Jesus immediately shot out his hand and grabbed Peter to save him. To Peter, then, I think this story could have been about being saved by Jesus, and not about walking on water.

What do you suppose the story was about for Jesus? It was part of a very long period of work for him. Hearing about John the Baptist's execution, trying to get away to pray about it, but being followed by the crowds that sought healing miracles, crowds that then found themselves hungry and not near a village, crowds that had to be fed miraculously, then there were the disciples to send on their way, and the crowd to dismiss, and THEN Jesus was finally able to get up the mountain in the dark by himself to pray uninterruptedly. "But by this time the boat [of disciples], battered by the waves, was far from the land" and in order to give his friends a hand, Jesus had to walk out there, into the wind, up and down waves, through the dark, until - somewhere between 3 and 6 in the morning - he caught up with them.

So I'm wondering whether maybe for Jesus this story wasn't so much about walking on water as it was about prayer. Hearing about John' death and wanting to pray about it; prayer interrupted by the crowd praying to him for healing; disciples praying about feeding the people; praying over the bread and fish; wrapping up with the crowd that was surely expressing either final needs or thanks or both; and then finally getting away by himself to pray; except that he was interrupted by the disciples' fearful prayers out on the water, and then Peter's specific prayers. Yes, it seems to me that from Jesus's point of view, this story might be one about prayer.

Well, that's the crowds, and the disciples, and Peter, and Jesus. What about you? What is this story about for you? If you haven't come to a conclusion on that yet, perhaps you can follow me along a little longer to this point: the story is about how we should and how we can have faithful trust or confidence that we're going where Jesus wants us to go, doing what he wants us to do.

If we focus in on Jesus and Peter in this passage we can see this most clearly. At the beginning, Peter and the other disciples did not see Jesus at all. It was night. They were out to sea. They were headed away from Jesus. Sounds a lot like us on our bad days, doesn't it? Then when they finally did see Jesus, they didn't really see him. They thought he was a ghost, not the real thing, something come to frighten them. They saw him but did not see him as their loving, comforting, powerful friend who made things come out right. I would suggest, again, that we're like that a lot. We might often be going along on our merry way and, glancing to the side, see Jesus, but think of him as a threat. Maybe we know that we're headed the wrong way and that Jesus is going to call us up short and point us in a different direction. We usually don't like it when our sinfulness is pointed out to us. So sometimes we're headed into the dark, and away from Jesus. Sometimes we see him but don't really see him, and try to ignore his calls to us.

And sometimes we are even in his presence and still manage to fall away. Here, think of Peter on the water. He had asked for a sign, Jesus said "Come" and Peter had stepped out toward Jesus and everything was fine. Except that Peter then, as the text says, "saw the wind". Strange phrase, that: "Saw the wind." We don't actually see the wind itself, do we? We see the effects of the wind. We see clouds moving along the sky; leaves dancing ahead of it; snow being driven horizontally; sails on a boat puffed out. But the wind itself? We don't see that. Peter, however, saw the wind. He looked away from Jesus, he focused instead on something we cannot really see, something that has power in it, but is itself insubstantial. The wind has no weight, no heft, no mass. It isn't something you can put in a box for later. But it distracted St. Peter, the same way that insubstantial things distract us from Jesus. He took his eyes off of Jesus as do we.

Then we come to what I think is the most curious verse in this passage "he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out". I've been trying to picture how one "begins to sink." As Peter lost focus on Jesus did the water slowly creep past his ankles, rising bit by bit toward his knees? If it were me, I'm sure I'd have gone straight to the bottom. It would have read "he was afraid and sank like a stone before he could cry out." But Peter was only "beginning to sink" and had a chance to cry out.

Which brings us to the central point of all this: that the story is about how we should and how we can have faithful trust or confidence that we're going where Jesus wants us to go, doing what he wants us to do. In today's Epistle St Paul writes that "Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved". It's a very New Testament thought, right? Except that Paul is quoting from the prophet Joel in the Old Testament at this point. Calling on the name of the Lord in times of trouble and when we sin is something encouraged throughout the Bible, and ever since. Peter began to sink and called out "Lord, save me." You're faced with some dire temptation and call out "Lord, save me!" We're faced with some danger -- wild Beltway traffic, a house fire, an eviction notice, loss of a job -- and call out "Lord, save me!" Prayer, in other words, prayer to the Lord is one of the ways to express our faithful trust and confidence that he will help.

The other way we can consider this morning is the action Peter took as he began to sink. He could have flailed around. He could have grabbed for the boat behind him. He could have tried to dive in the direction of his friends and their helping hands. But Peter did none of that. What happened in that instant was that "Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of" Peter. Peter didn't grab or lunge or dive, he was taken hold of by Jesus.

When we are looking for direction in our confusing, storm-tossed world, it seems to me that we could take guidance from this passage. Act like Peter. Find out whether Jesus is really there in the direction you propose to go. Maybe your options aren't as stark and scary as a choice between staying in the wind-driven boat, or going over the side onto the waves; but we're often as uncertain as Peter was. So, pray "Lord, is it you?" Is it you standing there where I propose to go? If it's truly you there, Lord, then invite me out of the boat, invite me into this new project, this different direction. Then listen for the Lord's response, because if he is in the new venture, he will invite you to step out. Now, very key to this whole thing, keep your eyes fixed on Jesus. Don't be distracted by the wind. Don't worry about the waves. Focus on Jesus, think about how he is in the new thing and invited you into it, how he is always concerned about your safety and well-being.

Engage in prayer. Let Jesus reach out and take hold of you. You could, in other words, just say "be a Christian," because Christians pray and they let Jesus reach out to them through his Word and through the Sacraments. He takes hold of us through them, and holds us safe. Our Savior did an immense thing by taking our sin to the cross when he died in our places. So he can do a little thing like individually taking hold of each of us to make sure we get safely back to shore.

Pray. Let him take hold of you. Then be at peace.

Amen

And may the peace of God that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord.

S.D.G.