Seek the Lord and his strength; seek his presence continually
This summer, we’ve had torrential rains, high winds, huge cracking thunder, and very persistent lightning flashing through our skies. Responses I’ve heard have ranged from “We’ve broken Mother Earth” (that was from my California friend) to “I remember big thunderstorms like that from my childhood” (that was from my youngest son).
We all can agree the 2011 summer storms have been very scary and very destructive.
Now, just imagine being out in a small boat, full of other disciples, out on the lake, right in the middle of one of those storms.
Actually, I do know what that experience feels like. Last February I was on a small ship traveling from the northern coast of Antarctica to the port of Ushuaia, the southern tip of South America. These waters are known to be turbulent, as that is where the Atlantic meets the Pacific, and there is no land mass, in between, to buffer the winds. Now our ‘small ship’ was a state of the art 2010 French ship, built for these waters, and we had a highly capable international crew, including cadets from the French navy. Yet, even so, while the storm raged, in the dark of night, I was pretty terrified! In fact, I held onto my mattress with all my strength, and I was in constant prayer. The Scot in me felt joy at the rugged and wild storm, while the Christian in me was preparing to meet my maker in Davy Jones’ Locker.
Meanwhile, one of the gifts of technology is that on the on-ship TV station, I could see the bow of the ship, as it lifted high up out of the high waves and then crashed down again, covered by waves pouring over the front deck.
The next morning, when calm was restored, I learned from a friend, who knew the captain well, that we’d indeed been in a hurricane, with 140 mph winds, 40 foot waves, sleeting downpours of rain, and we’d had a 20 degree list to starboard for a full hour of the storm. It was the 2nd worst storm our captain had experienced in his dozen years. The Russian boat behind us had turned back.
Now, if I’d not been clinging to my mattress for dear life, and had looked out to see Jesus calmly walking towards me on the waves, I might have felt as the disciples did on their boat, in that storm, seeing Jesus calmly walking towards them. We are told that the disciples first thought it was a ghost and they were terrified, until Jesus said, “ Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”
Do those words, “Do not be afraid” sound biblically familiar? Whenever one of God’s messengers, the angels, comes to a human, as Angel Gabriel came to Mary at the Annunciation, the angel’s first words usually are “Do not be afraid.” Actually, in these days of prolific Biblical scholarship, someone actually counted and found that “Do not be afraid” occurs 365 times in the Bible.
What, at least to me, is extraordinary about Jesus walking on the water, is not so much that Jesus walked on water, as Jesus is Divine, but, rather, that Peter walked on water. At least Peter briefly walked on water, until he felt doubt and fear, began to sink, and cried out, “Lord, save me!” Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”
And, here, I believe is the nub of the matter. Jesus consistently challenges us to leave the comfortable and familiar paths of our lives, and to follow Him wherever He goes, to walk as He walks, to trust as He trusts, to serve as He serves, and to follow His Father’s will, wherever He’s led in the unfolding mystery.
For Peter, for us, even for Jesus himself, walking on water means stepping out in faith, that God’s will is being done, as you break out of your usual patterns and take a risk, which you sense, deep in your being, is in alignment with God’s will for you.
And, once you’ve stepped out in faith, the key is not to become frightened. The risk is that, once you notice the strong wind, once you notice your feet in the water, then you freak out and cry, “Lord, save me!”
The point here, I’ll say once more, is not that Jesus walks on water, for He is the Son of God and can do anything. The point is that Peter, a flawed human like any one of us, walks on water. That’s where we see ourselves in this story. Do we believe we can step out and metaphorically, at least, walk on water, trusting that we will not sink, as we’re upheld in our faith, going forward to do whatever scary thing we feel God is calling us to do? The invitation is to leave our little boats of security, that we’ve carefully built for ourselves, and to take a risk that we feel is in alignment with God’s will for us.
How do we know what is God’s will for us? This is the part of today’s Gospel that seldom gets noticed. Prior to His walking on water, Jesus, in Matthew’s Gospel ,had just finished feeding the 5000 with five loaves and two fish. And “After he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray.”
Here’s the crucial link to discerning God’s will for us. We must open ourselves to God in prayer, and see what bubbles up. See what has energy for us. Perhaps there will be an invitation to use our gifts and skills in new ways, in new ways that willbe generative and healing for our people and our planet.
Peter found his faith tested in a life crisis, being in a small boat amidst the violent seas. It’s precisely in a crisis that our safety net, illusory as it is, is upended, and by necessity we are required to find faith to go forward. Indeed, it’s my experience that being in a crisis is exactly the time to let go of holding on, to pray, and to feel in some alignment with God, before you step out and forward in faith. Then, the time for hesitation is over; you step out boldly and, unlike Peter, you do not look down or back or, you, too, will sink.
I know, from my own experience, and from conversations with Christ Church parishioners, in gatherings like Friends in Faith, Holy Caffeine, our Tuesday evening Bible group, and in Kerygma, where we share our faith stories, that we’ve a number in our midst who have not only, in a crisis, stepped forth in faith, but then, mysteriously, have found themselves supported and guided by the unseen hand of God, to get safely to the other side of the crisis.
This is not to say we are not scared in crisis. In the coverage of the tragedies in Norway, there was an op ed piece, written by a Norwegian novelist, in the New York Times. He and his family live a mile from the bomb blasts in Oslo. As the bombs exploded, he asked his 11 year old daughter, if she was scared? She said to him, what he had often said to her, “If you’re not scared, how can you be brave?”
I’d like to close this morning with some words, which long were attributed to Nelson Mandela, from his 1974 inaugural speech in South Africa, but actually were said by Marianne Williamson, who is a spiritual teacher. As I was coming out of a few crises in my own life, these words were said to me, and, not only have I never forgotten them, they still inspire me:
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
Go for it. Walk on water. And, don’t look down.
