Psalm 105:1-6, 16-22
Matthew 14:22-33
"Walking on Water"
Chapel in the Pines Presbyterian Church
Mindy Douglas Adams
August 10, 2008
19th Sunday in Ordinary Time
It had been a difficult week for Jesus. In the course of a very short period of time, Jesus had been rejected by the people in his hometown, Nazareth, and much worse, his cousin, good friend, and prophet of God John the Baptist had been slain by Herod. Jesus, in his grief had tried to withdraw in a boat at one point, to be by himself, but the people followed him to the edge of the lake, and in his compassion, he came to them and healed them and taught them and even fed all five thousand-plus of them by the lakeshore. After they were fed, Jesus tried again to find a quiet place to pray. He dismissed the crowds and sent the disciples on ahead in their boat to the other side of the lake. Finally with a moment to himself, he climbed the mountain nearby to pray. "When evening came," Matthew tells us, "he was there alone."
His prayer retreat didn't last very long however, for back down on the lake the winds had picked up dramatically and the waves were pounding the boat that carried the disciples. They had been blown far from the land and they were probably wondering where Jesus was about now and why he had sent them across the lake in the first place, when they saw a figure walking toward them on the water. They knew right away that something wasn't right about that, so they cried out in fear, an emotion not unfamiliar to them. But then the figure on the water, Jesus, spoke to them and said, "Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid."
Do not be afraid. That's what he told them not so long ago when he and the disciples were caught in another big storm while on a boat (8:26). That's what he told them as he prepared them for their mission-work a few weeks earlier (10:26, 31). That's what the angel will tell the women when they find Jesus' tomb empty (28:5). That's what the resurrected Jesus will tell them when they see him face-to-face (28: 10). Do not be afraid. For Jesus knows the disciples are afraid. They are afraid of the power of the waves. They are afraid of what they don't know and don't understand. They are afraid for their own lives, but Jesus calls out to them, "Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid."
And like a child comforted by a parent after awaking from a nightmare, or like a confused accident victim quieted by a rescue worker, or like one who , after suffering a significant loss, is held tightly by a spouse, sibling, or close friend, the disciples feel a wave of relief wash over them as they look into the eyes of the one they have come to trust beyond anything they ever could have imagined. His words are like a soft and strengthening melody, "Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid." And their fear disappears as they remember that the one before them has calmed the waves before. The one before them has healed the blind and cured the lame. The one before them has fed the hungry multitude. The one before them has brought them a message of hope and peace and for this man they had changed their lives. The one before them is walking on water, and only God can do that. Their blood pressure eases up and their fear dissipates as they see this man coming toward them upon the water.
Peter, outspoken, brash and foolish as usual, is the first one to speak. "Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water." And one might think this is a sign of complete faith in Jesus, but somewhere in the back of our minds we hear the echoes of the tempter, who in the wilderness taunted Jesus, "If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become bread." Peter is testing Jesus, testing Jesus to see how far his power reaches, testing Jesus to see if Peter, too, can do such nature-defying acts. At the same time, even foolish Peter would not have stepped into the tossing, dangerous waters that morning unless he already knew that Jesus could do it - could make him walk on water, too. Peter had to have great faith as he stepped over the side of the boat, put his foot upon the rough surface of the water, and shifted his weight away from the solid wood at the bottom of the boat. And he began to walk across the water to Jesus.
And he did just fine - surprisingly well, if you ask me, until he took his eyes off Jesus and saw the rain falling in horizontal sheets around him, the wind whipping the waves here and there. In that moment, he believed in the power of the wind and the waves far more than he believed in the power of Jesus. His faith shifted away from Jesus and toward the winds around him and he began to slip into the dark depths of the sea. "Lord, save me!" he cried, realizing how desperately he needed Jesus. Matthew writes that immediately Jesus reached out his hand to catch him. As Peter emerged from the water, Jesus looked him in the eye. "Oh you of little faith, why did you doubt?" Or, he could have said, "Why did you believe in the power of the wind over the power of my love?" They crawl into the boat together, Peter soaking wet, head down in shame, the disciples still staring with wide eyes and dropped jaws, and at that moment the wind ceased. Those on the boat worshipped Jesus as the Son of God.
You know, I can't get over the power of this story. This story Matthew shares with us tells us so much about ourselves, about Jesus, about God, about faith, about fear and about doubt. I almost can't take it in. It is such a powerful story. Like the birth of Jesus or the empty tomb, it is a story that is wrapped in such power and such truth that it is almost overwhelming. But this story often gets bypassed. Maybe because it is so hard to believe that Jesus literally walked on water. Many people will dismiss the story because they can't make sense of such a slap in the face of the laws of nature. There's an explanation for it, many will argue. They were closer to the shore than they realized, perhaps, and it was an optical illusion.
Have you heard the story of the rabbi, the priest and the Presbyterian pastor? They were fishing in a boat together, not far from land. The rabbi used up all his bait, notices a bait store on the shore, stepped out of the boat and walked across the water to get some fresh bait. Having made his purchase, he emerged from the store, walked back across the water and stepped calmly back into the boat while the others looked on. Not long after that, the priest ran out of bait as well. He brought his line in, stored it in the boat and he too stepped out of the boat, walked across the water to the store, made his purchase, and walked back to where the boat was. The Presbyterian had been watching all of this carefully and before he knew it, he, too, was out of bait. He stood up, looked around doubtfully at his friends for a minute, but then stepped confidently onto the surface of the water - and sank like a lead balloon. Meanwhile in the boat, the priest and rabbi laughed and laughed as they pulled their friend out of the water. "Hey buddy!" they said through their laughter, "The reef's over here!"[1]
There is no evidence, of course, of a reef being in the Sea of Galilee that Jesus could have walked on. There is also no evidence that this story actually, factually took place and many people dismiss the story because of this. But I would argue that the factuality of this story is actually rather irrelevant. With or without "proof" this story packs an incredible amount of truth into a very small space.
Pastor Jon Walton of First Presbyterian Church in New York City knows that this passage tells us much truth about our lives. He writes,
We all know about . . . the rough seas, the trials we face literally and figuratively, the challenge of living up to what we profess to ourselves and to others, in our relationships, at work, in our parenting, in the storms we meet shortly after our feet hit the floor every morning and our shoes hit the pavement, and we try to walk on the roiling waters of our so called life.
The world into which God sends us seems like that far shore across the Sea of Galilee, and there is a storm going on and as hard as you row, you are not getting anywhere. In fact, the boat is taking on water. The harmony and friendship and making nice that we all do around the communion table and passing the peace and being the church at worship is quickly left behind as the salt water of everyday hits our face in stinging pellets.[2]
You know what I mean, don't you? When the economy sinks to its deepest depths in your recent memory and you have lost your job, or are in fear of losing it, or you just don't know how to pay for gasoline, and for food, and for childcare, and for medicine, or
When your wife has just been diagnosed with breast-cancer, and she's too young, and there are children . . . or,
When your marriage is failing, and your wife won't listen to you any more, or even talk to you, or
When someone you love has died and there is a darkness around you that will not, cannot, be lifted, or
When we find ourselves falling into the same old habits, the same old addictions, the same old need for control, the same old fear and we are sinking, sinking, sinking.
It's in these moments of storm in our life that we realize we have tried to go it alone. We convince ourselves that we have everything under control, and that all is well because we are such good managers of our life. We convince ourselves, and often those around us that the seas are calm and all is smooth-sailing. Until we stare into the storm and recognize the power of the wind and the waves around us and we start to sink.
Save us, Lord! Save us, Lord.
Perhaps you have heard the story of the man who came too close to the edge of a steep cliff, lost his balance, and fell over the edge. Just before falling hundreds of feet to his death, though, he grabs onto a branch sticking out from the edge. Immediately he starts yelling, "Help me! Is there anyone up there? Help! Save me! Is anyone there?"
To his unbelievable relief, a voice answers, "I am the Lord. I can save you. Do you believe in me? Do you really want me to help you?"
"Oh yes, Lord. I believe in you. More than you'll ever know. Please help me!"
"Okay," says the Lord. "I'll save you. Now, let go."
"What?!"
"Just let go of that root you are holding on to, and I'll save you. You have to trust me."
The man pauses for a moment, and then shouts out, "Is there anyone else up there?"[3]
Trusting in Jesus isn't always the easiest thing to do and often does defy logic or rational thinking, but it is the only thing that will truly rescue us from the darkness of our fear, the storms we encounter in our lives.
Lutheran pastor Robert Sims brought this truth home to me in a sermon he preached over ten years ago. He tells of his friend Carla.
Carla was 28 years old when she died [he writes]. It was January, 1993. Carla did not have to die. The doctors said, "Carla you have cancer but we think we can cure you with surgery and chemotherapy. But Carla there is one problem, you are pregnant. In order to treat you we must abort the child." Carla said, "No. My child has a right to live." Six months later Carla went into a coma. She was rushed to the hospital. The baby was delivered by cesarean section. The little boy was born three months premature and weighed less than two pounds. Eight hours later Carla died. Little Stephano held on and grew stronger. Today, [Sims wrote] he is three years old.
Carla had a choice. She could have kept the storm at bay. She could have saved her life. It must have been so tempting. She saw the wind and the waves, the danger of the deep, the foreboding darkness. But with courage uncommon to human kind, she chose to step out and walk on the waves.
No doubt as the cancer progressed and the pain increased, Carla questioned and wondered and doubted. Perhaps for a moment she started to sink beneath the waves of the bottomless sea. But Jesus was there to take her by the hand and lift her up.[4]
In the end, in the darkest, scariest loneliest moments of our lives, there is nothing else to do but to put our trust firmly and securely in the one whom we call Lord, Jesus - our brother, our redeemer, our comforter and our rescuer. There is nothing else we can do but to cry, "Lord, save us!" and to reach out our hand knowing that Jesus is there to pull us out of the waters of fear and to carry us to safety and comfort.
Thanks be to God for such a promise. Thanks be to God for such a gift.
Copyright 2008: Mindy Douglas Adams
[1] Story found in a sermon by Edward F. Markquart at www.sermonsfromseattle.com
[2] From a sermon preached on August 7, 2005, "Take Heart, It Is I" by Jon Walton.
[3] From a sermon by Rev. David A. Tietz, "Storms Will Come." Rev. Tietz is a Lutheran pastor in Taylor, Texas. Found on www.spirit-net.ca.
[4] From a sermon by The Rev. Dr. Robert Sims, Lutheran pastor in Atlanta, GA at the time of his writing. "Then Jesus Came . . ." August 11, 1996.
