Come (Matthew 14:20-33)

 When I used to substitute teach on Catalina Island, I had to take a 70 minute ferry ride across the ocean to get there. It was normally a smooth and gentle ride on a ferry boat that could carry 400 passengers scattered across three levels, with most of the seating indoors, but some outside seating as well.

However, a few times each year, windy conditions would lead to cancellations. So when I was asked if I was available to work over on the island, I always checked the weather forecast first. 

I didn’t want to get over there, teach all day, then get stuck because the boat ride home was cancelled. Especially since the school district paid for the boat ride, but wouldn’t pay for a hotel if I needed to spend the night.

There was one time, though, when the boat left Catalina on a sunny, but breezy afternoon, and as soon as we made it out of the harbor, the doors to the indoor cabin flung open, and people who had been sitting outside came rushing in, screaming. Because away from the sheltered cove, the wind started whipping the waves into the air and onto the deck, soaking those passengers.

They were, no doubt, tourists. Most of the commuters knew that it was always better to find a seat inside.

As we made our way further out to sea, the usually smooth boat ride began rocking rather violently. Several people even got seasick, and crew members began distributing sickness bags. That was quite a ride!

Now, imagine a much smaller boat carrying just a dozen disciples: how much more vulnerable to the wind and the waves that would be. 

********This is not the first storm in Matthew’s gospel. There is another storm, back a few pages, in chapter 8. In that storm, the disciples are in a boat, and Jesus is in the boat with them, when a great windstorm comes upon them, so great that it threatens to sink their boat. 

And Jesus (this time) is blissfully unaware of it all, for he is sound asleep.

How can Jesus sleep so peacefully in the midst of the storm, with the waves all around, threatening to overwhelm them?

Perhaps Jesus remembered that, in Psalm 65:7, it says that God calms the roaring seas, the roaring waves, and the noise of the nations.

Perhaps Jesuis remembered that, in Psalm 89.9, it says that God rules over the surging sea; and when the waves mount up, God stills them. 

Perhaps Jesus remembered that, in Job 9.8, it says that God is the one who tramples the waves of the sea.

Perhaps the disciples do not remember these things, or they at least have their doubts, for their fear overwhelms them, and they wake Jesus up and scream:  “Save us! We’re about to die!”

And Jesus rebukes the wind and the waves, and suddenly all is calm.

And we see in the disciples a mix of faith and doubt. They have faith; they know that Jesus can save them. 

Yet they also have doubts, and they are afraid.

********That’s Matthew 8. This time, in Matthew 14, Jesus is NOT in the boat with them. They are on their own. 

A wind comes up and pushes against them, so that they are making absolutely no progress on their journey across the lake. 

And what’s really weird this time, is that the scripture doesn’t say that the disciples are afraid, UNTIL they see Jesus. Once they see Jesus walking on the water toward them, in the predawn darkness, coming through the wind and waves, then they become afraid, for they think he is a ghost.

But Jesus says “It is I; take heart. Do not be afraid.” 

That SHOULD reassure them. Right? And maybe it does. But is that enough to calm their fear? The scripture doesn’t say.

But the scripture DOES say that Peter speaks up, and shouts through the wind: “Lord, if it IS you, command me to come to you on the water!”

Peter wants proof. 

And his demand—does it sound familiar?

In Matthew chapter 4, it is the devil who speaks these words. Peter says “if it is you, command me…” The devil says almost the same thing: “If you are the son of God, (If it is you…) command these stones to become bread.… If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from the top of the temple… If you are the Son of God, prove it!”

Jesus decides, OK, if Peter is going to put me to the test, I’m going to put HIM to the test. Jesus turns things around… as he so often does. In many places, Jesus answers a question with a question; here, he answers a challenge with a challenge.

Jesus says to Peter: “Come.”

The ball is back in Peter’s court.  

I wonder if Peter’s reaction is to think to himself: “Wait; what?” He called my bluff?

I wonder if he has second thoughts. I wonder if he regrets speaking so hastily.

But there’s no backing down now.

Peter steps out of the boat… and starts to walk on the water…

But then he notices the wind.

And he begins to sink.

And Jesus reaches down, lifts him up, and brings him safely into the boat.

And Peter is reminded that HE himself is not Jesus; he is not the one who controls the wind and the waves. Only Jesus is Jesus.

And it is JESUS who has the power to calm the storms in life, and to bring us safely to the other side.

Like Peter, we—despite knowing better—often test Jesus in much the same way. “If it really IS you…” 

We insist that Jesus prove himself. We insist that God prove to us that God is who God says God is, and that God can do what God says God can do.

But God turns things around. Jesus turns things around. “You want a test? Here’s a test: 

Come.

I know that I have put Jesus to the test—put God to the test—in much the same way Peter did. My prayers, especially lately, often go something like:

Come on, God; don’t you see what’s happening in the world? Don’t you see how the vulnerable are being treated? Don’t you see the injustice? … Don’t you see how so many who use your name in vain, twisting your truth, are prospering, while so many who try so hard to walk the path of love and compassion and peace are struggling? 

If you really are God, DO something.

If you really are who you say you are, intervene, and restore justice, restore peace, and restore our love for one another.

That’s been my prayer a lot lately. And I suspect I’m not the only one.

And when I pray that prayer, I get the sense that God’s response is something like this: Yes, there is a lot of injustice, a lot of suffering, and a lack of love and compassion.

That’s why I’ve called YOU. That’s why I’ve called you, to be my people, to be the ones to restore love and justice and hope to the world.

So: COME. Walk the path of true faith. Sail your boat across the sea to where I am sending you, to carry out the mission of love I have entrusted to you.

********

189 years ago, First Christian Church began its ministry of love in the home of William T. Major. He, and I think a dozen or so others, met, worshiped, and organized themselves into a congregation.

They responded to that invitation: Come.

And in all the years since, there have been a lot of storms. A lot of strong winds and waves, pushing against this congregation’s ministry of love. 

The years leading up to the Civil War, when a group of people who didn’t agree with this congregation’s opposition to slavery left to form their own congregation. Perhaps they believed strongly in defending slavery; perhaps they just thought that speaking out against slavery was just too political. Either way, they left.

There were other wars; and epidemics like the Spanish Flu; arguments over prohibition, in society at least; I don’t know about within this congregation. Later, the civil rights movement and the turmoil of the 60s; the decision to become open and affirming; and the challenges we currently face in this world where so many are working against love and against justice, and doing it in Jesus’ name.

The waves are strong, and they are beating against us.

Yet still we press on. Because a ship isn’t meant to stay in one spot. A ship isn’t meant to stay in the harbor, where it’s safe. That’s not what a ship is for. A ship is to follow Jesus, even when he leads us across a stormy sea.

Our congregation’s vision statement, which I read earlier, says that we are a growing church. 

There are many types of growth, and many ways to grow. But growth does not occur if we stay in one spot, in a safe shelter, protected from the wind and the waves.

That’s true for you. That’s true for me. And that’s true for us as a congregation.

Our denomination’s identity statement says that we are a movement for wholeness. Obviously, that word movement also suggests that we are not called to stay in one spot.

The thing is, though: sometimes we like the spot where we’re at. Maybe we’ve been at that spot for a long time, to the point that it feels comfortable. Reassuring. Safe.

But are we ignoring Jesus’ call to get into the boat, and sail across to the other side? Are we ignoring his invitation to Come?

To where is Jesus calling you? What safe, comfortable, reassuring place is Jesus calling you to leave behind? What storms is he calling you to face, rather than hide from?

Each of us will have different answers to these questions. They are worth spending some time this week pondering.

And for us as a congregation: Well, these are exactly the sort of questions we are pondering through our New Beginnings process. 

And it would be dishonest of me to say that the answers to these questions won’t be a little scary. They might be!

What does Jesus have in store for us, for our future, as a church?

Jesus may be calling us to sail our boat across a stormy sea, to an unfamiliar place, or even to get out of that boat and walk with him on the water!

Jesus may be calling on us to leave the safety of the shore behind us, to leave the relative safety of the boat behind, and to venture into uncharted territory.

I don’t know about you, but that makes me nervous!

Yet I know that if we faithfully follow Jesus, wherever he leads us, that he will go with us. 

And no journey will be too much for us. 

And no wind or waves will overwhelm us. 

And no storm will cast us into the water.

Because Jesus is with us. Now, and forever.

Wisdom of Creation (Job 12:7-10)

 In today’s sermon, since it is “Earth Care Sunday” (Or, “Earth Stewardship Sunday”), I’m going to introduce you to some of my closest friends… and by friends, I mean some of my favorite trees.

This incense cedar tree I encountered on a hike along Vivian Creek near Mount San Gorgonio, the highest mountain in southern California. When I saw it, I literally stopped, and gasped.

My son Tristan, who was with me on that hike, probably thought: What is Dad doing? Has he never seen a tree before? 

But this tree was beautiful and magnificent. And it had been through some things, as you can tell. It was hollowed out on the inside, with black fire scars. Perhaps it had been struck by lightning at some point in its life.

I began to imagine what stories this tree could tell, and probably would tell, if I were patient enough to sit and listen. 

But trees speak very slowly, and we had a mountain to climb…

******

This stunted, gnarly oak tree can be found at Disneyland in California, in the line for Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. The branches spread out more horizontally than vertically, providing lots of shade to people waiting in line to ride. 

This is one spot where I wish the line for the ride would actually move slowly, because I just want to spend some time here, tracing the branches with my eyes…

By the way, there are only two pictures today that I didn’t take myself. I found this photo online, on a Facebook page dedicated to the horticulture of Disneyland. Apparently someone else appreciates this tree as much as I do.

******

Another favorite tree of mine is a giant, 150-year-old oak tree at Loch Leven, our Disciples camp in southern California. Loch Leven is located in a dry, desert-like environment; however, the camp is located where two canyon streams meet, and there, where those streams meet, are many shady trees, creating a cool oasis. 

And for many of the summers I spent there, campers could safely climb to the top of the tallest of these trees by harnessing themselves into a professionally-installed system of ropes.

There were even a few hammocks placed high in that tree. Some campers liked to hoist themselves up 40 or 50 feet off the ground, and lay in one of those hammocks. If there was a breeze, they’d feel a gentle rocking motion. Sometimes they’d just stay there, and wouldn’t come down until it was time for dinner. 

Those campers fell in love with this tree as much as I did. I’m pretty sure that, in those moments, those campers were being taught by the trees, as our scripture says.

*******

The toyon is a California tree so small that it is sometimes considered a bush and not a tree. This toyon is one I photographed on Catalina Island, on a hike I took one day after substitute teaching at the school there. 

When I look at this picture, one of the things it tells me is that school must have been dismissed early that day. How do I know this? Well, because toyon berries only grow in winter; and in winter, the sun sets too early for me to have time to go for a hike after school… unless school got out early.

Birds and wildlife love Toyon berries. And native Americans—the Tongva and Chumash people—made use of them as well. In fact, the name of the plant—toyon—is derived from the Ohlone language, a Native American people of Central California.

The toyon is a signature plant in southern California; so much so, that the restroom interiors at the Hollywood Bowl are painted a shade of green that was color matched to the toyon. 

******

After I moved to Illinois, I was walking through Ewing Park one day, and I saw these two small trees that looked a lot like toyon. I took this picture a few weeks ago, but when I first saw these trees, it was early summer, and the branches were full of dark green leaves and bright red berries.

I learned that these trees—the ones I saw in Ewing Park—are called serviceberry. Since toyon doesn’t grow in the midwest, the serviceberry quickly became my favorite Illinois tree.

And midwestern birds love serviceberry just as much as California birds love toyon. 

A few months after I decided that serviceberry was my new favorite tree, Robin Wall Kimmerer published a book she titled… Serviceberry. So when it came out, I had to read it.

In the opening pages of that book, Kimmerer writes that “the Serviceberry supports biodiversity. It is a preferred browse of Deer and Moose, a vital source of early pollen for newly emerging insects, and host to a suite of butterfly larvae—like Tiger Swallowtails, Viceroys, Admirals, and Hairstreaks—and berry-feasting birds who rely on those calories in breeding season.

Kimmerer also writes that “Human people, too, rely on those calories, especially in traditional Indigenous food practices. Serviceberries were a critical ingredient in the making of pemmican. The dried berries, along with dried venison or bison, were pounded to a fine powder, bound with rendered fat, and solidified into the original energy bars. This highly concentrated, preserved food provided full nutritional sustenance through seasons of hunger, was easily transportable, and could be cached or carried. 

“Pemmican became part of the traditional trade economy, a sophisticated local and transcontinental network that distributed vital materials across ecosystems and cultures. Surplus Serviceberry calories could be exchanged for other goods not locally available.”

I love Kimmerer’s writing so much; it’s tempting to read her whole book to you this morning, but I’ll just share a little more.

She writes that “The leaves of the Serviceberry [like the leaves of most plants] draw carbon dioxide from the atmosphere, which they make into sugar via photosynthesis.”

I don’t know about you, but I still remember that exciting day in high school when I learned the chemical equation for photosynthesis: CO₂+H₂0+sunlight → C₆H₁₂0₆ + O₂. (I’ll leave it to you to balance that equation.) 

The sugar that photosynthesis produces in the serviceberry is stored in the berry, along with essential nutrients and minerals. Kimmerer notes that a bird (say) eats the berry, and some of that carbon becomes a beautiful, brightly colored feather. When that feather falls to the ground, it becomes food for beetles, who become food for a Vole whose death feeds the Serviceberry. 

This demonstrates that God’s creation is characterized by abundance and reciprocity (giving back); and reciprocity, borne out of gratitude, would go a long way toward making our world a better place, if only we humans learned the lesson of creation—if only we allowed ourselves to be taught by the plants—and put those lessons into practice.

Yet we often take without giving back. And we create systems in which scarcity, not abundance, governs how we think, how we act, and the economies we develop. There is no reciprocity, and no gratitude.

Data centers have been in the news a lot lately, and are a good example of what I’m talking about. 

Data centers suck up enormous amounts of energy, and enormous amounts of water. Utilities struggle to keep up with the demand, and to help finance the need for more energy and more water, they raise their rates… for everyone. WE are paying higher utility costs because of these data centers.

But that’s not all. Data centers generate a tremendous amount of heat. Some large data centers have raised the average temperature of the surrounding region by as much as six degrees. With the climate already warming due to climate change, you can see why this is a big problem.

Data centers take so much in terms of earth’s resources, but give nothing back to creation.

But I believe that we have the solutions, if not the will to implement those solutions. We have the technology and the ability. God has given us the knowledge and wisdom we need.

The companies that build data centers could, if they were motivated enough, find a way to do it without that huge, negative environmental impact. We—and our leaders in government—need to find a way to give them that motivation, and work together to undo the environmental harm we’ve caused.

It is possible! We CAN make positive environmental changes!

I’ve seen it happen.

*****

This is the other photo that is not mine. It shows that when I was growing up in southern California in the 1970s, the smog was terrible. Los Angeles regularly looked like it does on the left side of this photo. 

After a day of playing outside, my lungs literally hurt, and it was hard to breathe.

But then we passed the Clean Air Act, and California in particular took controlling smog seriously. 

Smog still exists, but it has gotten a lot better. Today, Los Angeles looks more like the right side of this photo.

It IS possible to create POSITIVE environmental change.

*****

And there are other things we can do, to actually help cool the environment. Trees have a natural cooling effect. 

In 1955, Disney imagineers planted a jungle in Anaheim, California. Now, 70 years later, that jungle has matured quite a bit, with some of the trees reaching incredible heights. And that jungle has created its own micro-climate, where the temperature is actually cooler than the surrounding city. 

Now, when I took this picture from the Jungle Cruise boat several years ago, I do wonder what the other people on the boat thought when I spent much of the ride gazing up at the trees, instead of looking at the elephants, the hippos, or the “backside of water.” 

But I know I’m not the only one. Did you know that, at Disneyland, you can walk into City Hall on Main Street, and right there under the counter, they have this massively thick binder in which every tree and plant at Disneyland is listed? The species name is listed, along with its location in the park; and any special watering needs or care instructions for that tree are also noted. And anyone can just go in and ask to look at that binder…

*****

At camp this summer, I’m not going to lecture the campers about all the details of all the trees in camp.

But I do hope that campers will find a tree or two that they can get to know, and learn from. A tree that they will spend some time listening to, and gain some of the wisdom that is referred to in today’s scripture.

Because trees, and all of creation, really are great teachers. 

This week, I want you to let creation teach you. And for that to happen, you need to spend some time noticing creation…. And noticing God in creation.

If you don’t know where to start, here are some things to find out through observation. Don’t look it up on google; find these things out by spending some time in creation:

1.     What is the current phase of the moon?  Approximately what time did it rise or set yesterday?

2.     What constellations – and what planets – can you see in the night sky this week?

3.     When was the last time you listened to the song of a mourning dove? (I heard one the other day… I love the song of a mourning dove!)

4.     What trees grow on your street? What do the leaves look like? What does the bark look like? What does the tree smell like? 

If you notice any of these things, then you are well on your way to receiving the wisdom of creation.

Two weeks ago, I planted two serviceberry trees in my front yard. 

I don’t know how long I’ll have to wait for berries to appear on those trees. Probably several years.

And when the berries do appear, I don’t know that I’ll eat any. I feel like I should at least try one.

******

 On Catalina Island, there is a plant called “lemonadeberry,” and so naturally when I worked at a camp there, I, and the students I taught, tasted those berries… and they really were sour and sweet and tart—and sticky—just like lemonade…

Robin Wall Kimmerer says that The Potawatomi called serviceberries Bozakmin, which means “the best berry.” So maybe, when the berries appear on my trees, I’ll at least give them a try. 

But even if I don’t eat them, when I see them, I will learn from them.

I will be reminded of the things I do eat, and where those foods came from. I will ask myself if the food I eat is made from real, natural ingredients, or artificial ingredients created in a lab.

I will be reminded of the miracle that is present in every bite I take, and to offer up gratitude for the blessing of nourishment and raiment.

I will remember that the berries and all real foods are dependent on good soil and clean water. Everything I eat is dependent on good soil and clean water. 

I will remember that, since it all comes from the land, the earth, everything I eat is a gift of God. It is all precious and sacred. To take or use anything thoughtlessly is a great sin. And to buy something that is used only for a moment, and then thrown away, is an insult to God the creator.

When I see the serviceberries, I will remember how interconnected I am with all of creation, that I myself am a part of God’s creation, and that my wellbeing is dependent on the wellbeing of creation itself.

The trees have so much to teach us. Creation has so much to teach us.

And I will be reminded, as Clayton—our Camp Walter Scott caretaker always says—to “care gently for God’s creation… and that includes you.”