by the Rev. Judy DesHarnais, deacon
Click here to watch the sermon recording on YouTube.
Let us pray: May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be always acceptable to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer. Amen
It is summer in Minnesota, a perfect time for getting out on a lake. Two weeks ago, I was enjoying a vacation of swimming and boating near Brainerd. My five-year-old granddaughter had gotten bored with the small selection of books we brought along, so she asked me to tell her a story about God. So, I started telling her the story of Jesus walking on the water. She immediately assured me Grandma, Grandma, Jesus did not really walk on the water. Jesus knew where to step because he knew where it was shallow. I briefly attempted to get the story back on track, but the little scientist is quite certain of her interpretation, and I gave up. I didn’t even get to Peter getting out of the boat.
Later I thought about all the magical things that happen in the videos she watches and the stories we read to her. She never argues about whether there are flying ponies or talking pigs. I should appreciate that for her Jesus is real and those other things are just pretend.
Today’s reading from the Gospel of Matthew is set in the pre-dawn hours after Jesus spent the previous day healing, teaching, and feeding the crowds. The news of John the Baptist’s death had reached Jesus only the day before. And Jesus had gone into the wilderness to be alone and to pray. But seeing the crowd that had gathered, he had compassion. In ministry, we are often reminded to take time away for rest, to set boundaries. Yet, there are times when each of us is moved to go beyond our normal healthy boundaries. Not forever, but just for a moment. Sometimes the needs are urgent, and the Spirit moves us to compassion.
In today’s reading, Jesus sends the disciples away; he commands them to get into the boat and leave, dismisses the crowd, and finally finds some time to be alone. Jesus goes up the mountain to pray and perhaps to mourn.
In the pre-dawn hours, Jesus heads out onto the waters. A storm has been tormenting the boat, and the disciples fear for their lives. The previous time they were in peril from a storm on the sea, Jesus had been asleep in the bow. This time he had stayed behind on the shore. When the disciples saw something out there moving on the water, they were terrified, thinking they saw a ghost. But Jesus calls out to them, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” Now at this point you would think they would call out, “Jesus, could you still the storm like you did last time?” But no, Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” And Jesus said, “Come.” Peter steps out of the boat and walks towards Jesus. The inference in Peter’s words to Jesus, “if it is you,” is that Peter does not yet trust that it is Jesus walking on the water. But I don’t think this is the case; why would Peter ask a specter to prove that it is not, in fact, a ghost by inviting him to climb into a stormy sea? I think that Peter has been prompted by the Spirit to follow Jesus out onto the churning water. Yet, he first checks: will Jesus invite him onto the sea, or will he scold Peter for having such a ridiculous idea? After all, Jesus did sometimes scold the disciples. When Jesus says “come,” Peter recognizes the invitation. When Peter first met Jesus, he was also called out of a boat with the words “Come, follow me.” And Peter steps out of the boat.
Approaching Jesus, Peter looks at the storm, starts to sink into the water, and cries out, “Lord, save me.” Jesus holds out his hand and rescues Peter. They climb into the boat together, the wind ceases, the waves calm, and everyone is safe. As a disciple, Peter was called to follow his rabbi; this meant listening to Jesus’ teaching, doing what Jesus tells him to do, and following his example. Disciples become like their teacher and eventually become teachers to a new group of disciples. While I may think it is crazy to get out of a boat in the middle of a lake, that is without a life jacket and in the midst of a storm, I appreciate the example of discipleship that Peter provides.
The disciples who witnessed this then proclaim, “Truly you are the Son of God.” They have seen Jesus heal the sick, feed the multitudes, calm the sea, and cast out demons. It is only now that they realize who Jesus is. It is now that they say it out loud.
So, what does this lesson mean for us? Much like the sea in this story, we live in a tumultuous time. Whether it be wars, some we started, climate change, or the erosion of our democracy, we can all identify threats to ourselves and those we love. What are followers of Jesus called to do in the midst of this storm? Should we too step out of the boat?
In the reading from First Kings, Elijah has been running for his life when he comes to a cave on a mountain. He is listening for God. “Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence.” Elijah hears God in the silence. And God turns Elijah around and sends him back toward the danger he had escaped. God tells him to anoint his own successor, Elisha, and the successor to the king who wanted him dead. And Elijah follows the Lord’s instructions and heads back toward danger. He is not assured of God’s protection; instead, he is assured that God still has a plan. And Elijah goes back down the mountain.
In the fourth chapter of the Gospel of Matthew, “As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. ‘Come, follow me,’ Jesus said, “and I will send you out to fish for people.’ At once they left their nets and followed him” (vv. 18-20). Jesus called Peter out of the boat onto the shore of the Sea of Galilee, and Peter went. Jesus invited Peter to come out of the boat and onto the stormy sea, and Peter got out of the boat again.
In the midst of our stormy world, I believe God is calling us to listen to the still small voice and step out of our boats, out of our caves, and follow him.
At the 2023 convention of the Episcopal Church in Minnesota, Bishop Craig Loya challenged us all to get out of the boat and dance with Jesus on the water. He said, “Following Jesus doesn’t promise success. Following Jesus does not promise safety… Following Jesus promises death. Following Jesus promises resurrection, and transformation, and new life. Following Jesus promises that if we are willing to lose everything, we might just find the one thing we are all so desperately trying to gain: liberation through God’s healing love. The core question for us is: can we live together like we believe the gospel of Jesus is true? Can we live together … like we believe God’s promise that we truly gain by losing, and we really live by dying?”
Some of you may assume that as an ordained clergy person I am comfortable telling people that I am a Christian. Well, perhaps because I am a lifelong Episcopalian, or perhaps because I spent thirty-five years working for the Federal Government, I am a bit slow to share my faith. I do not deny my faith, but I don’t always introduce myself as a Christian in secular settings.
During a Bible study at my previous church, with refugees from Myanmar or Burma, we talked about what we had given up to follow Jesus. I hadn’t given up much, and didn’t have much to offer. But Mu Lah Htoo shared this story of when she was 13. Her family practiced traditional religion and each year had a meal together and prayed to the ancestors to watch over them, their farm, and their home. This would then guarantee the safety of the family for the following year. But Mu Lah Htoo had decided to become a Christian. She had learned about Christianity at school and did not think it was appropriate to participate in the ceremony for the ancestors. And this very new 13-year-old Christian told her parents that she was not going to join in the meal. Her father told her that she had to participate. That if she did not participate, the whole family would be in danger. And she said, “no, I cannot.” And then her sister pipes up and says, “I too have become a Christian, and I am not going to participate either.” So their Father said, you cannot live in this house if you do not join in the ceremony. Their father built them a separate bamboo house, and then their mother decided to join them. A while later, their father also decided to become a Christian and joined them.
Recently, I stepped out of the comfort of my boat and wore my collar to my district’s political convention. The gathering was scheduled to start at 11:30 on a Sunday morning, and there was no time to go home and change. This was only a few weeks after the Palm Sunday march. Where thousands of Christians marched to the capital, led by black Christian faith leaders, for a rally “against the rise of authoritarianism and white Christian nationalism.” Given the witness of many faith leaders this winter and spring, I was ready to wear my collar, not just at church and not just at a protest. I would let my neighbors know that I am a Christian, a Christian who believes in welcoming refugees and immigrants. A Christian willing to work with people of other faiths and of no faith in loving our neighbors. Not a big step out of the boat, but I did get my toes a little wet.
I don’t mean to push anyone out of the boat, but together, I believe we can step out of the boat and follow Jesus in loving our neighbors. In the words of Bishop Loya, “The only real choice that we have is whether we learn to delight in being in the water with Jesus, or freeze up with fear and let the waves consume us.”
Let us pray. Jesus, may we never forget that you are with us and ready to lift us when we sink into the stormy sea. Help us to love others the way you love us. Help us to love out loud. Amen.
