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.
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