Matthew 14:22-33
Sermon; Stormy Seas
How do you react in a
crisis? Do you get panicked and shut
down, or stay calm and collected? Years
ago, I was on road trip with a friend who may or may not be here this
morning. While we stopped in Nashville
for dinner, the car was stolen. While my
road trip companion became understandably upset, I was pretty proud of myself
that I could stay calm and think through what we needed to do to avoid being
stranded in a town that we were just passing through. (But then again, it wasn’t my car, so it made
sense that I’d be the less emotional one.)
Do you stay calm and
collected, or do you back away and abdicate responsibility? On another occasion,
several years ago my roommate – who may or may not be here this morning - was
planning a backyard party. Our landlord
had mentioned doing some ‘paving’ in the backyard that weekend, which we
greeted without alarm. We didn’t seem to
recognize that this meant she would be excavating the entire back yard for a
full foot, starting the morning of the party.
That afternoon, one by one we came home – me first – and recognized that
there was going to be a serious challenge to our backyard party. There was no backyard anymore! But instead of taking action, I just went into
the TV room and hid until my roommate came home and decided on the action plan.
I abdicated any responsibility because I didn’t want to be the one to tell him
what reality looks like.
In today’s scripture,
we see a few different reactions to panic.
The Elijah story may
be a little hard to follow, dropped as it is here without context. A few months ago we read the story of Elijah
challenging the prophets of Ba’al over who had the real God. First, Elijah summoned YHWH and demonstrated
a show of strength. Then he demanded the
prophets have their God show its power.
When nothing happened, Elijah had all the prophets of the sham God
killed.
Queen Jezebel, the
queen who lured YHWH’s people to worship Ba’al in the first place, was enraged
and issued a death threat on Elijah’s head and, in a moment of panic, he flees.
God is surprised to see him and asks, twice, what he is doing by fleeing. Elijah clings to his panicked reality that he
is alone and in danger and not up to the task of being God’s prophet anymore. When
your life is threatened and you feel alone, it’s not surprising he wants to
give up. He abdicates his call. God
answers him by relieving him of responsibility – giving him detailed
instructions about who can succeed him as a prophet.
In our gospel reading
of Peter, on the other hand, seemed to be the opposite. Peter seems to be reaching for more
responsibility, more meaning, deeper faith.
If you remember from last week why they are at the Sea of Galilee. Jesus had just been told that Herod beheaded
the prophet John the Baptist at a party – in order to please his daughter. He retreats to a deserted place to be alone,
to process this loss, but in this crisis a crowd of 5000 men and possibly their
families follows him. They are seeking leadership and direction. In following Jesus to the deserted place,
they find themselves without food and Jesus enlists the disciples in feeding
thousands with just 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish.
This takes place
immediately after. Jesus forces his
disciples to leave the crowd by boat, and then sends the crowd away
himself. Then he finally gets his
alone-time, his time to pray and think and commune with God. Later – much later actually, the text says it
is in the early hours before dawn – Jesus is ready to rejoin his
disciples. But he’s on the shore, and
they are in a boat on their way to the other shore. So…. He walks to them.
(of course). Jesus doesn’t panic, but his disciples do when he gets close,
calling him a ‘phantasm’ or a demon.
Adrift on a boat in stormy seas, they are already in a precarious position
– but it is Jesus’ approach that truly terrifies them.
As we’ve discussed
before – water, in ancient Hebrew, represents much more than mere physical
reality. It very significantly depicts
danger, disruption, darkness, chaos.
Water is ‘the deep’, an abyss that’s unnavigable. Wheher it is the sea with its unfathomable
depths, the relentless river in full flood, or the all-consuming deluge, there
is something metaphysical about the threat water poses to human life. According to Karl Barth, water, in the first biblical
creation story is the thing “which, in its abundance and power, is absolutely
opposed to God’s creation” and “representative of all the evil powers which
oppress and resist the salvation intended for the people of Israel.”
Stormy seas are a sign
of scary times. A reason to fear, a
reason to be concerned. A metaphor that
feels eerily familiar this weekend.
This week, we learned
that a hostile country has gained nuclear capability and brags that they are
able to reach US shores. Stormy Seas.
This week, a world
leader often portrayed as egomaniacal, thin-skinned, delusional and
trigger-happy started some tough talk on going to war. And the President of the United States
responded in kind. The world held it’s
collective breath as we wait and watch and pray that neither one calls the
others’ bluff with mass human devastation.
Stormy Seas.
This week, in advance
of a planned White Power Rally in Charlottesville, NC, clergy from all over the
country gathered in that town to pray the night before; to pray for the town,
to pray for collective strength, to pray for peaceful assembly, to pray for the
ability to respond to whatever trauma the day would bring. But in the midst of the Friday evening prayer
service, the sanctuary was surrounded by a sea of torches as an unexpected
pre-rally march of White Supremacists chanting “blood and soil” on the
University of Virginia campus became menacing and intimidating to the clergy
and the small group of counter-protesters gathered around. The UCC was represented there. The church went on lockdown and people were
not allowed to leave. Stormy Seas.
Yesterday… yesterday those same clergy were present – and some assaulted – during
the march of various white power organizations and the counter-protestors that
gathered to reject their racism and shout them down. Rev. Traci Blackmon, the
newly-installed Minister for Justice and Witness for our entire denomination,
was in the middle of a televised interview explaining why clergy were present
as a calm presence when a security guard grabbed her and dragged her away from
a fight that had broken out just behind her.
Stormy Seas.
Yesterday, a state of
emergency was declared in Virginia as tempers and clashes inspired one person
to drive into the crowd at 40 mph, killing one and injuring 19. Stormy Seas.
Water is a signal for
fear and chaos. But Jesus is not phased.
The seas are stormy, but Jesus is
walking across them without incident. Like
the references in scripture, Jesus is able to summon a power only previously
attributed to God, and trample the chaos underfoot. And then, moments later, still the sea after
Peter begins to sink.
The retelling of this
story often focuses on the faith of Peter, who leaves the boat to join Jesus on
the Sea. But then he panics, alone on
the sea exposed to the elements, and begins to sink.
Is
Peter’s risk a divine action of great faith?
Does he do it to settle the collective fear of the 11 disciples who are
depicted to speak with one voice who are terrified? Or is Peter’s move a foolish one, a taunt to
Jesus to prove his divinity? Why did Peter leave the boat?
There was no threat to his life, and Jesus was going to reach the boat
eventually. Peter could have stayed with his companions and waited for Jesus’
arrival. In the midst of chaos of the sea, he says ‘if it’s you, make
the impossible possible.’ Prove it. Share it with me.
Because
of Peter’s bravery, the other disciples deepened their faith. Once Jesus rescues the sinking Peter, the
seas grow calm, and safely back in the boat the disciples seem to understand,
more truly, that Jesus shares the powers of YHWH – to quell the turbulence of
the chaotic water.
Like
Elijah, Peter soon learns it’s quite difficult to remain steadfast alone in the
midst of the wind when you are working for God.
He discovers
that it is one thing to be battered by strong winds while in the same boat with
others. It is a whole other matter to be on the water surrounded by strong
winds and all by yourself, without others who share in the same vulnerability. It
is through that connection to others that we draw strength.
For Elijah, the gutsy prophet who has been
zealous for the Lord, you get the feeling that it is not just the threat to his
life or the actions of the people that is most upsetting. In each lament, he tells God, I alone
am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away." This God seems to understand, because the last
thing God does is reassure Elijah that there are 7000 people who have not in
any way bowed to Ba’al. That he, in fact, is not alone and will not be alone.
Can you imagine what
it would feel like to be trapped in a church surrounded by flaming
torches? Can you imagine what that might
feel like as a black person? Can you
imagine what it would take to stand on the street next to people armed with
assault rifles who were there expressly to threaten your right to live
freely? Luckily, Rev. Traci was not
alone. The hundreds of clergy present at
the rally had locked arms and tried to speak and sing as one reassuring voice. They were in a boat on stormy seas, but they
were locked together in solidarity.
Friends, we are in trying times. As a country we
certainly seem to be in crisis. And you
may find this Charlottesville tragedy to be far removed from Hastings,
Nebraska. But it’s not. For the last several weeks, flyers have been
popping up in town with a message intending to threaten anyone who is
non-white. I saw one in Heartwell Park,
and a few days later reports of them in other locations popped up on
Facebook. These winds of turmoil, these
powers of evil, are rearing their head in many places. We may not be Elijah or Peter, but we can’t
stay silent about these acts. If we do,
like Elijah, it will be an abdication of our responsibility. How do we show our pledge to love God and
love our neighbor as ourselves? We have
to let them know they are not alone.
Remember, justice is what love looks like in public. To uphold our pledge to God, we must listen,
and show support; protect and show that we value the lives of others who may be
very different than ourselves.
Brave leadership is inspiring, but no one can do
it alone. We draw our strength from our
connection with others. In the boat, we
have security and safety. The truth is, we need both the bravery of Peter and
the community of the boat to truly live out our faith. Sometimes faith is
seeing the boat for what it is -- a shared experience and the opportunity to
lean on one another, to encourage each other in the storm while waiting on God.
The boat is traveling to a new shore,
with new challenges and new people, but together we can rely on each other, and
on God’s wind, to bring us ashore.
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