Matthew 14:22-33, David Orendorff

There is an old, old story about a Lutheran pastor, who had been in town 25 years, and a Presbyterian pastor, who had been in town 15 years, who, to welcome the new young United Methodist pastor, took him fishing. They were not in the boat long when the Lutheran said, “I forgot my tackle box” and climbed out of the boat, walked across the top of the water to shore, to the car, got the tackle box, walked back across the water and got into the boat. The Presbyterian pastor seemed to hardly notice, but the Methodist was astounded and in awe at the piety of this Lutheran. But since the Presbyterian said nothing, he said nothing.

They drifted for awhile, not having much luck, and then the Presbyterian said, “I forgot my coffee thermos” and he climbed out of the boat, walked across the water, onto the shore, went to the car, got his thermos, walked back across the water, and got into the boat.

This time the Lutheran seemed to hardly notice, but though the United Methodist was again astounded he said nothing. His mind was working. “If they can walk on water then surely I can walk on water.” And so he said, “I brought some snacks, anyone hungry?” Being traditional clergy they were always hungry and so the United Methodist lay down his rod, swung his feet over the side of the boat, hopped out and quickly sank.

When he came up the Lutheran and Presbyterian grabbed his hands and pulled him back into the boat. Sputtering the United Methodist said, “I thought if you could walk on water, then I could walk on water. I am embarrassed by my little faith.” To which the Lutheran replied, “It’s not about faith. It’s about knowing where we put the stepping stones.”

There are those who would make the point of today’s scripture the power of Jesus to walk on water. But the science and reason of Jesus’ day wouldn’t see this as the point at all. Walking on water was what many magicians could do. It denoted unusual power but such power was only slightly uncommon. If the main emphasis for those first hearers was not the miracle of walking on water, then what was it?

This is a teaching story full of symbols for those initiated into the faith. Jesus plays himself and God. The boat is one of the church’s earliest symbols of itself. The disciples in the boat are the people of the church. The sea is life.
Sometimes life is smooth and the fishing is good. This is how we like it. But life is also rough with the wind and the waves threatening us and our boat. When the sea is calm and the fishing good then life in the boat is joyful. But when it was dark and stormy then life is difficult, frightening and destructive.

This teaching story is about what happens to us and our community when we are threatened by the storms that toss our little boat. It’s about what happens when it’s deep in the night and we are afraid of dying. This is a story about what happens when the doctor says, “There’s cancer;” when there’s a pink slip with the pay check; when a spouse says, “Divorce,” when our children go to war. It is about all those times we fear for our lives and the lives of others.

The Disciples are frightened. Then it gets worse, they see a ghost coming for their souls. Not only are the elements of life out to get them, the spirits of life are also now chasing them. They cry, “It’s a ghost” and start screaming.

It is kind of funny strange, isn’t it? Those in the boat are the fathers and mothers of the faith. They are the ones Jesus has handpicked to continue spreading the word when he is gone. They are the first generation of whatever future the way of Jesus has in the world. And when life gets frightening they start screaming. The early church had a great sense of humor about itself in its awareness of its own fragility and humanness.

Jesus says three things, “Take heart; It is I; Have no fear.” “Take heart” is a command that can mean take courage, or be confident, or be bold. To the early church facing the impossible Jesus says be courageous, be confident, and be bold. Those who cower in fear are doomed. Those who in the face of great storms rise up with strong hearts are, by the grace of God, victorious.

If the British had cowered before the Nazi’s in WWII then the compassion and humanity of civilization would have been set back generations. If Jonas Salk had cowered before the terror of polio and the public criticism of his peers then polio would still haunt us. If Nelson Mandela had cowered before apartheid and its cruelty, been broken by 27 years of prison and torture then South Africa might still be ruled by tyranny. If the early Bear Creek folks had cowered before the audacity of becoming a congregation, the fear of inviting neighbors to worship, of the monetary challenges then we wouldn’t be here. If parents of children with broken bodies or minds gave up then none of us would survive. If every time things got tough we hid then life would simply cease to be.

Secondly, Jesus announces “It is I.” When the storms of life are raging Jesus comes to us and stills the storm. It is the coming of one who loves us, who is our teacher and our friend. God’s coming is not a ghostly threat but a promise of holy companionship and aid.

Julian of Norwich, a 14th century mystic and anchoress was very ill as a child. She not only survived the Black Death but also the Hundred Years War. In her illness she had visions she called “Showings.” In her storm God came and showed to her His grace. Julian became the first English woman of letters.

Julian wrote in one of her showings:

And these words: You will not be overcome, were said very insistently and strongly, for certainty and strength against every tribulation which may come. (God) did not say: You will not be assailed, you will not be belaboured, you will not be disquieted, but (God) said: You will not be overcome. God wants us to pay attention to his words, and always to be strong in our certainty, in well-being and in woe, for (God) loves us and delights in us.1 Brendan Doyle, Meditations with Julian of Norwich, (Santa Fe, Bear and Company, Inc., 1983), 256-257”

In another place Julian writes:

Our Lord is with us, taking care of us and leading us into the fullness of joy. Our way and our heaven is faithful love and sure trust.2 ibid.,126.”

And Jesus says, “Have no fear.” The word used here for fear is φοβεω. From it we get the word phobia. It means to frighten, terrify, dismay. Its emotional connotation is the desire to “run or fly away.” God in Jesus invites us to not run from life’s danger in fear for our lives.

All this seems pretty obvious so far. But there a couple of subtleties here that surprise me. First, Jesus is not at first in the boat. In other stories, even stories of a boat in a storm,3 Mark 5:35-41, Matthew 8:23-27, Luke 8:22-25 Jesus is in the boat. But here, Jesus is out in the midst of life’s storms. I draw from this that there are times when Jesus is in church with us and there are times when Jesus is not in church, but out in the world. Hence the early church and we are being taught to look for Jesus both in the safety of the church and in the storms of the world.

The second subtly is a joke that doesn’t translate to well and will lose its humor in the explaining. Peter is Jesus’ affectionate nickname for Simon.4 Matthew 16:18 Peter in Greek is Πετροσ which is rock.

So when Rock heard Jesus call to him “come” he got out of the boat and walked on the water. It is a moment of great faith, of simple trust in the command of Jesus to join him in the storm, but the moment passes. Rock shifts his focus from being with Jesus to the power of the storm and Rock sinks like a, well, rock.

In panic and desperation Rock calls, “Lord, save me.” Peter will drown if Jesus doesn’t save him. Peter is in the moment of sinking absolutely dependent upon grace. If there is no grace in Jesus then Peter is dead. But there is grace and Jesus reaches out to the sinking Rock, catches him and gives him yet another nickname saying, “Littlefaith, why did you doubt?”

I am like Peter, a mixture of Rock and Littlefaith. When I am the Rock and full of trust for God then with courage, confidence and boldness I walk on water. But when I lose heart, become afraid and forget who it is that has called me into being, I am Littlefaith and I sink. But the story is not over with my sinking. Like Rock, if I but call to Jesus saying, “Lord, save me!” he takes me in his arms and lifts me from the water and carries me home to the boat.

I have had to test this theory in my life. I won’t give you the details, but more than once I thought I was going to be swallowed by the wind torn waters. And in those times I know that I was helpless, that if there was no grace from God then there was not hope and all was lost. In fearful desperation I have fallen to my knees, most often with tears, and pleaded for Jesus to save me.
I remember doing this early in my ministry in a little office in the bell tower of the Sunburst Church. I remember doing this when Erika had a severe concussion and was in the hospital under constant watch and I was 300 miles away. And every time I have called “Lord, save me!” I have been saved. Not always in the way I wanted, but always in a way that pulled me from the waters that would drowned me.

I am reminded of the story about the monk who met the traveler on the road.

The traveler asks the monk, “How long have you been living in the monastery?”
The monk answers, “47 years.”
“47 years is a long time,” says the traveler. “You must be quite holy. Are you ever ill? Do you get hungry? Are the nights cold? Do the monks argue? Is there jealousy and envy over what little you have? Is there still suffering and sin among you?”
“We are not holy,” says the monk. “We still argue and have been known to fight over a blanket or a fish.”
“Then, what is the good of being a monk all this time,” asks the traveler?
“The good of it,” says the monk, “is that when we fall down, Jesus lifts us up.”

I suspect most, if not all, of you are also a mixture of Rock and Littlefaith and that from time to time you have called “Lord save me.” I pray that when you have called you have been lifted into the arms of Jesus and carried home to the boat of your safety.

And if you have never called upon God the Creator, Christ and Holy Spirit, and you are at your last breath as the water seeks your lungs, then maybe now is a good time to pray “Lord, save me!”

That is the crux of our faith. When we fall down, for fall down we do, the hand of Jesus lifts us up. When we dare step out of the boat and into the storm the Holy Ghost is there to raise us up. Sometimes it is a spiritual lift we need. Other times our saving may come from Jesus through a friend, acquaintance, stranger or even enemy. The miracle of it is that when we are Littlefaith and sinking someone or something else is Rock and reaches a hand to us. We know that without the divine hand of salvation, no matter whose arm it is attached to, we are headed for the bottom of the lake.

Jesus says to us what he said to those in that early boat of a church, “Take heart, it is I; have no fear.” And when we still doubt, for we all do and must to grow, Jesus reaches out to pull us from the water. And sometimes, by grace, we are the voice and we are the hands reaching to save another and our world. It is indeed amazing grace that God saves the world with a bunch of Rock Littlefaiths like us. But is that not truly the way of it?

Shalom and Amen.

[1] Brendan Doyle, Meditations with Julian of Norwich, (Santa Fe, Bear and Company, Inc., 1983), 256-257

[2] ibid.,126.

[3] Mark 5:35-41, Matthew 8:23-27, Luke 8:22-25

[4] Matthew 16:18