Monday, August 11, 2014

Get Out of the Boat or God Doesn't Hate Whales: A Sermon on Matthew 14:22-33

When we last saw the disciples, they were stretched out along the Galilean hillside, tired and amazed from having just fed thousands of people with nothing but the few bread and fish that Jesus had blessed. This morning we see that Jesus did not leave them in their wondering for too long. Because immediately, the text tells us, immediately Jesus told them to get up, get in the boat, and head out for the other side, so Jesus could finally have the alone time that it seemed he’d been hoping for since he first came to the wilderness.

So the disciples headed out, the crowds disbursed, and Jesus went off by himself to pray. For how long, we don’t know, but what we do know is when evening came, Jesus was still in prayer and the disciples were caught in the middle of the water, nowhere near the other shore. Now as we look at this story, here are some things that are helpful to know. First, the word “sea” notwithstanding, the Sea of Galilee is not a particularly big lake. We’re not talking Lake Michigan here; you can certainly stand on one shore and see the other side. But it is a uniquely ferocious body of water. Because Galilee is located right on the edge of the Judean desert, it is prone to tremendous windstorms that can swoop out of nowhere and in an instant turn the calm lake to roil.

The other thing to know about this story is that throughout scripture the sea is frequently used as a metaphor for a place of chaos and fear. Monsters like the Leviathan were believed to live in the sea; the Psalmist often talks about the raging sea. When the book of Revelation says that in the New Jerusalem the sea will be no more, it’s not because God has a thing against whales. It’s because the sea stood for chaos, for terror, for that destructive force which could not be controlled, and God promises that the New Jerusalem will be free from all such power and fear.

So even though the disciples were fishermen, and they spent their lives on the water, they did so with a healthy respect for the power they were dealing with. This was before the days of OCEA requirements and GPS navigation and weather maps. The disciples knew every time they got into their boat that they were just a few men in a dingy against the wrath of creation.

When they left Jesus it had been a clear day, but while Jesus was praying a storm had blown in and the disciples were struggling against the wind, their tiny boat battered by the waves. And then in our story the next sentence is morning but think about the time that passed for the disciples. All through the long night, they struggled against the wind and the waves, trying to reach the far shore. And remember, this is the first century and they’re in a boat. So there are no navigation systems to tell them which way to go, no electricity to illuminate their directions, no sonar to guide them in, no reflected glare from cities on the shoreline, not even so much as a candle to let them see the riggings. They are in the dark, alone, struggling against the thing which the scriptures describe as chaos itself.

And then, early in the morning, out in the distance, the disciples see a figure walking toward them on the sea. The Greek here is “fourth watch” so somewhere between three and six am. Depending on where in the time it fell, it is either completely dark and the figure is highlighted just by moonlight, or by the cloudy grayness of the false dawn. Either way, it is hard to make out details of this strange form approaching them on the waves. The disciples, rightly so, are terrified. They’ve been up all night fighting for their lives, and now a ghostly apparition is walking toward them across the water. Fear is, I think, the logical response in such a situation.

And then Jesus speaks to them from across the water, saying “Take heart, it is I, do not be afraid.” What our English translated to “it is I,” is better heard as “I am.” “Take heart, I am, do not be afraid.” The sentence doesn’t make much sense grammatically, but it rings with power biblically. I Am is the divine name of God, I Am echoes across space and time, I Am came to Moses in a burning bush, I Am led the exiles back from Babylon, I Am spoke over the waters at creation. When Jesus tells the disciples “Take heart, I Am,” this is not an identifier; this is a pronouncement that the very power of God, the one who formed the sea itself, is with them.

Peter answered back, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” Now Peter has taken a lot of flak from theologians over the years, wondering why Peter questioned Jesus, why Peter needed proof. But the more I read and wrestled with this story this week, the more I wondered if that wasn’t really what was going on here. Remember, the sea is terrifying; it is the embodiment of chaos itself. And the storm is still raging at this point, the sea still roiling. And Peter asks to leave the boat, the only safety that he’s ever known, to walk out on the sea. What Peter is asking for here is the opportunity to take a risk in his faith in order to be more like Jesus. Discipleship is about following the teacher so closely that your actions mimic theirs. It is a style of learning that involves trying to mold your own life after the life of the one who is leading you. And that’s really what Peter is doing here, he’s saying, Lord, let me walk so closely in your footsteps that I can do this impossible thing. And so I wonder if Jesus’ response to Peter here is not the exasperation the theologians tend to read into it, but instead a delighted “yes.” Yes, Peter, I thought you’d never ask, yes, step out of that boat and into the fear, yes, take a risk in your faith and do the thing you thought was impossible in your attempts to be more like me.

So Peter stepped out of the boat and into the raging storm and began to walk toward Jesus. But as he walked, the reality of what was doing overcame him, and he began to sink. And he cried out, “Lord, save me!” And what does Jesus do then? Well, I’ll tell you what Jesus did not do. He did not cross his arms and say, “Peter, you got yourself into this mess, now get yourself out. You’re the one who wanted to walk on water, after all.” No, right. That’s not what happened. What happened was Jesus immediately, immediately, the text said, reached out his hand and caught Peter. And then Jesus said to Peter, “you of little faith, why did you doubt?” Like the doubt was caused by Peter’s little faith, and if he’d only had more faith, he could have stayed on the water. And we tend to hear this as a criticism of Peter, right, that he didn’t have enough faith. But remember, Jesus said that if you have just a little faith, just a mustard seed of faith, you could move mountains. So what if Jesus is saying to Peter, you have a little faith. You have a little faith, and it is enough to get you through, so you don’t need to doubt, because what you have, who you are, is enough. And then they got back in the boat, and it was then, and only then, that the wind ceased. “And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, ‘Truly you are the Son of God.’”

Like Peter, there are times in our lives when we find ourselves faced with opportunities to step out of our comfort zones and into the raging sea. To get involved in that project, or try that new form of prayer, or question that belief we’d always held, or talk to our friend, our neighbor, our colleague, about our faith, or so many other things. And it’s scary. It’s scary to take that risk, to make that step, to open ourselves up to failure. Easier, right, safer, to leave the questioning, the challenging, to Jesus and to stay with what we know. But what this text promises us is that when we step out of our boats, Jesus is there beside us, encouraging us on. And we won’t always succeed. Taking risks in faith don’t always play out right. We’ll fail at times, we’ll get scared, we’ll start to sink. But in our failures, Jesus is there to catch us and help us back into the boat. Because discipleship is not about our success, it is about trying, about taking the next step, following the footsteps of the master into the impossible. And most of all, discipleship is about Jesus, the great teacher who though we may sink, promises never to let us drown. And so whether we succeed or fail, Jesus is there to catch us. Amen.

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