“Upon the Sea” – Sermon on Aug 7, 2011

August 7, 2011
Scripture: Matthew 14:22-33

Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone. By this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them.
Early in the morning he came walking toward them on the sea. But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them. “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”
Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” “”Come.” So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus. But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”

Sermon: Upon the Sea
by Rev. Doreen Oughton

I so love that Jesus lived and ministered near the sea, that so many stories about him involve the water and waves and wind, boats and fishermen. The ocean is a place that calls to me, that speaks to me. There is so much symbolism there, the vastness of it, its depth and breadth, the diversity of life that teems in it, its many moods and faces, from fierce storms, to gray flatness, to bright and playful curls. And then there are the eternal rhythms, tides swelling up, then ebbing down, back up, and down again, and the constant slap of the water against surface.
Jesus followed certain rhythms in his life as well. There were times he feasted and times he fasted, times he immersed himself in crowds – teaching and healing – and times he went off alone to pray. Today’s gospel story starts right after the feeding of 5000, plus women and children. Jesus has been with the crowds, then wants to pray alone, then wants to join his friends. I wonder what kind of inspiration he got from his prayer time that it occurred to him to walk out across a stormy sea to get to them. Like I’ve said before, I think he had quite a sense of humor.
The disciples might have been on a high as they set off in the boat for the other side after being part of this incredible miracle of feeding thousands and thousands of people beginning with just a few fish and loaves of bread. What an amazing experience that must have been. Can’t you just imagine them pushing off into the water, telling and retelling the stories, “I saw I had just 2 pieces of bread left in my basket, and another 20 people in the circle to feed. I handed a piece to the kid on my left, looked down to the basket and it was full again, just like that!” “My plate stayed stacked high with fish no matter how many people took a piece from it!” But before long, they had to stop telling the stories and focus on sailing. A storm had blown up and they were barely moving through it. The wind and rain whipped around them, drenching them, chilling them as they strained themselves with the oars, scanning the horizons, trying to figure how far they’d come and how far they had to go.
And looking out, they saw something, a figure moving toward them, a man. Now in those times, people considered the sea to be the dwelling place of demonic forces, the place where chaos reigned. Was it a demon that had risen out of the water to hurt them, to trick them? A ghost? Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good, could it? A voice calls out to them to take heart. He says the words that are repeated over and over again in scripture – do not be afraid. Most likely, if they can hear his voice over the storm, they can see his face, recognize both face and voice. But is this just a trick of a demon? How to tell, how to tell?
Well Peter comes up with a test that doesn’t make any sense at all, really. Peter says if it is really you, Jesus, command me to come out of the boat and join you. Now I would think any demon would be delighted with this idea – call the fool out and let the sea claim him. I mean why not ask him to still the storm, like he did once already for the disciples. But Peter never has been one to do the rational, sensible thing. He left his fishing boat in a flash to follow Jesus. At the sight of the transfiguration of Jesus he offers to build booths for Jesus, Moses and Elijah. Even when he understands Jesus’ true identity, he wants to dissuade him from his mission. He swears his eternal allegiance then betrays Jesus three times before the cock crows. So okay, maybe in Peter’s mind this was a good test.
I think it also expresses a desire Peter has, it shows his excitement about being able to participate with Jesus in miraculous events, like they just had with the feeding of the 5000. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t ask Jesus to still the storm. He doesn’t just want to be the recipient of Jesus’ works, he wants to participate. He doesn’t want things to be always calm and safe. He wants to step out in spite of the dangers. And for this, I just love Peter. I love his excitement, I love his risk-taking. And I love that he gets taken aback by what he has done. And I love that he calls out for help when he falters.
Many say that the message of this story is that it is important to stay focused on Jesus, to keep your eye on him when you step out. Pay no attention to the roaring wind and turbulent sea. Just trust Jesus. But I think it is also a message to us that we won’t always be able to, no matter how excited we are, no matter how motivated we are to participate in the work of Christ. We will be taken aback. We will take our eyes off Jesus.
We have our own rhythms of faith, our own ebbs and flows of trust and doubt, of confidence and angst. No matter how often we remind ourselves of God’s love, of Christ’s trustworthiness, we wouldn’t be human if we never got distracted by worries, frightened by the chaos of this life. And when we do, we don’t have to sink all the way into the depths. Neither need we drown in guilt or self-criticism for our doubt. We can call out, Lord, save me. We can grab for that hand, always stretched out to us, always willing and able to get us back on the boat, always willing to save us. That’s who he is, that’s the core of his work. Sure he preaches and teaches and heals, feeds 5000, stills storms, and walks on water. But sometimes we forget that he came to save us, to bring us eternal life. He does for us what we cannot do for ourselves. We can let Peter remind us that faith isn’t something we have to find and maintain all by ourselves. If we open to it, if we have just a little bit, Christ can set it in motion by calling to us through the storms, and over the depths. I want to close by sharing a poem by Jan Richardson.
Blessing on the Waves
I cannot promise that this blessing will keep you afloat
as if by lashing these words to your arms, your ankles,
you could stop yourself from going under.
The most this blessing can do, perhaps, is to stand beside you
in the boat, place its hand in the small of your back,
and push.
Be assured that though this blessing is eager to set you in motion,
it will not leave you forsaken, will not compel you to leap
where it has not already stepped out.
These words will go with you across the waves.
These words will accompany you across the waters.
And if you find yourself flailing, this blessing will breathe itself into you,
will breathe itself through you
until you are borne up by the hands that reach toward you,
the voice that calls your name.
May it be so.