Proper 14A 2020
Matthew 14:22-33
The Rev. Dr. Kathy Kelly
In today’s Gospel story we see Jesus, just after feeding the five thousand, go up on the mountain to pray. He is contemplative. He tends to do this, togo and seek renewal just prior to these moments of glory like walking on water. This is something I think we should model ourselves - pray first, then act. And I would add look at the Glory later.
Jesus sends his disciples out to sea and they feel abandoned, alone and afraid. At this time in history, the sea was especially believed to be the abode of demonic forces and these forces were believed to be hostile to God. So, Jesus shows up in the middle of this crisis and clearly takes control, casting aside fear and doubt. There is no doubt at the end of this story that Jesus is the messiah.
That is the Jesus we follow, the One who is powerful, loving and ready to calm the troubled waters, the One who will catch us when we fall.
But there is a little sentence in Matthew’s version of this story that often is overlooked.
“And early in the morning he came walking toward them on the sea.”
By the Roman time keeping standard of the 1st century, 6am is the end of the fourth watch. After a night spent in prayer, Jesus set out to meet up with the wind battered disciples on a boat somewhere near the middle of the Sea of Galilee - which is a really big body of water so way out there. and he showed up walking across the water. But it was at dawn, or just before dawn that this happened.
Matthew tells us that somewhere during the period between 3am and 6am, Jesus walked across the sea to meet his disciples. It would have taken him some time to traverse the roughly four mile hike from the south-western shore to mid-lake. As he walked, the sky began to wake. First light came, and as the sun approached the horizon, the twilight grew until the figure on the water began to come into focus for the disciples. Many have experienced the twilight of the morning. We know what it is like as what was once darkness gives way to light and more and more things come into view. Sometimes, all it takes is paying attention to one small detail of subtle drama such as this to allow us to experience more fully what the disciples were feeling, to understand the story more fully, and find our place in an ancient encounter with the Savior of the World.
There are two stories in the Gospels about Jesus and his frightened disciples in a boat on rocky water. In the first story, Jesus was with them on the boat and he slept through a storm. They had to wake him and he calmed the storm. In this later story, and we are studying Matthew’s version this morning, the disciples are frightened because the water is rocky though there is not a storm. Jesus walks to them across the water and what scares them is not stormy weather but that they think they’ve seen a ghost.
In both stories, Jesus calms the waters and relieves their fear.
But only in Matthew’s version does Peter try to emulate the Lord.
Some years ago when the story of the calming of the storm came up I told the story of the time I got caught o a storm on a lake. You’ve heard me talk a lot about enjoying our family pontoon boat on South Holston Lake near Abingdon. I tell stories about adventures on that lake because I grew up on that lake, I learned to swim, ski, sail, and camp out on that lake so that is where a lot of my development happened in my youth, and where many of my early happy memories are set.
But that sermon when I talked about that time I felt scared on that lake in that storm didn’t resonate with the assembly who listened. And why should they? They had not been on that lake or shared my experiences of lake life.
Last week I finally got the chance to get out on Clayton Lake. I went out on a boat, I saw an eagle, but there was no storm. You might think if I talk about a lake closer to home it might connect for you.
But alas. I find I am coming up short in helping us, all of us to get in that boat with those terrified disciples. Part of the problem is that the experience of those disciples in that boat on those rocky waters are far removed from our experience of any body of water.
We all know about storms though.
When I watched the movie The Perfect Storm in terror and saw waves twice the size of the length of that fishing vessel swallow those men, my little lake story shrunk even more.
But we know about storms in our own lives.
We watched the news this week of the hurricane (Isaias) beating up the east coast. We often watch these storm stories from our comfortable living rooms and we may feel empathy and concern for those folks facing that storm, but we really don’t fully resonate with their pain because we are safe and dry.
But we do all know about storms. Both literally and figuratively, we each have endured storms in our lives. I often ponder why it is difficult for us to empathize with each other’s storm survival.
Now, if this town got hit by a tornado, or flood or blizzard we would all band together and survive together and feel good about being a community. We know this because it has happened here in the past.
In 1940 the worst flooding in the history of Radford hit causing the New River to rise 22 feet above normal, flooding Bisset Park. There is a plaque in the park, placed there in 2011 describing that flood which was brought on by several hurricanes coming back to back during August of that year.
You also probably remember the blizzard of 1993 which dumped so much snow on the region that roofs caved in, including the roof of the Dedmon Center.
We remember big storms like that in which we came together as a community but we don’t always remember the inner storms of those we love nor do we always share the truth about our own inner storms with each other.
Scott Gunn’s blog this week struck a chord with me. Scott is the editor of Forward Movement. He talked about the sermons we remember. He’s said: (that)
It’s funny what sticks in our memory and what doesn't. As a preacher, I sometimes wonder what anyone will remember an hour after I finish the sermon. For my part, there are a few sermons I remember years later (and some I forget seconds later). Today I'm thinking of one sermon that's stuck with me. I heard it as a child in elementary school
The preacher was speaking about the Gospel passage we hear this Sunday-- Peter walking on the water (Matthew 14:22-33). The relevant part is brief
Peter answered him, "Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water." He said, "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, saying to 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."
In the sermon I remember, the preacher assumed Jesus was angry or disappointed. And the preacher said Peter blew it by not trusting Jesus and keeping faith.
That stuck with me, and, for a while, I agreed with that reading. Now I think it is 180 degrees wrong.
I cannot imagine having the faith that would make (walking on water) possible! The point is not that Peter failed to keep walking on the water, but rather that Peter managed even a few steps.
What is the relationship between Peter and Jesus in this moment? We often don't have emotional adjectives in the Bible, so we have to be careful what we project onto the speakers.
It seems to me that Jesus was offering compassion. After all, he reached out his hand for Peter. His question may have been asked in pity or in sorrow or in wonder.
Reading the passage as I suggest, it teaches us that we should not beat ourselves up when we fail to keep faith. Rather, we should rejoice for those faithful moments in our lives. And we should know that our Lord Jesus reaches out to catch us when we fail. Jesus offered grace to Peter again and again. Of all the people Jesus could have chosen to lead the church, he chose impetuous Peter, though Peter was often loudly and completely wrong.
Jesus chooses us, too. When we lose our faith, we need only cry out to Jesus, "Lord, save me!" And Jesus will catch us.[1]
Another perspective in this story worth considering is the experience of seeing Jesus coming toward you. For the disciples, in this boat, on this rocky water this was frightening which is understandable. He was after all walking on the sea! So they thought he was a ghost. I guess we might too.
What if we were to start being more intentional about sharing our experiences of rocky waters or the storms in our lives. What if we were to each share a story from our lives about seeing Jesus. Would you tell of a time when Jesus seemed like a scary ghost? Would you tell of a time when the true nature of our Lord became clear to you through an experience like your inner storms being calmed or an experience when you felt so close to Jesus you too felt that you could step out there on that water like Peter.
( For Sunday only) I owe our deacon a public apology. So here, from this makeshift pulpit of my front law, in front of God and everybody, as the saying goes, I’ll apologize to Jon. If you read. Gracenotes yesterday you will have seen where he called me out - and you too - us who didn’t do our homework from his last sermon. If you remember, he asked us to send him an email with our thoughts on what the Kingdom of Heaven is like. Only a few of us did this. So, Jon, I’m sorry I forgot to do that but I sure am glad for those who did send Jon some images of the Kingdom:
The kingdom of heaven is like light piercing through the deepest, darkest canopy in the forest - or through the leaves of the oak tree and onto the floor of the living room - or - the soft and gentle rain of a summer evening - or - the love shared in a roast beef dinner.
If we can share images of the Kingdom in this way. Maybe we can share our fears of the storm. We are certainly in the midst of a storm right now. Most of us are feeling very shaky most of the time as if we are in a little boat on a big rocky sea and Jesus sometimes seems absent.
But rather than wait for a ghost like image of Jesus to do something extraordinary like walk across the water to us, let’s just look for the Jesus who is here, in the simple beauty of the light through the trees, or the summer rain, or the love we share with each other. Let’s rejoice for the faithful moments in our lives. Let’s be the body of Christ to each other during this storm and give a hand to each other when we feel like we’re sinking. Let’s reach out to each other and lift each other up during these stormy times.
Better yet, let’s reach out to all the world and be the body of Christ, be the light of Christ, share the strength of Christ. This storm too will pass.
Amen.
[1] Scott Gunn, Forward Today, News and Inspiration from Forward Movement, https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/#search/forward/FMfcgxwJXLcXnBdHbZdckRmKHFlXJLSF accessed 08-07-20.