Sermon preached at St. Alban's, Spirit Lake, on August 10, 2008
(Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Year A, BCP Lectionary)
by the Rev. Carl D. Mann

Texts:   Jonah 2:1-9
Psalm 29
Romans 9:1-5
Matthew 14:22-33

Now why couldn’t this have been the Gospel two weeks ago when we were worshipping on the Queen? All I would’ve had to do is say, “Look, over there beyond Pillsbury Point! Isn’t that Jesus walking toward us?” But such is not the case with lectionaries and I’m getting used to playing the hand I’ve been dealt.

Today’s Gospel reminds me of an incident from my youth which took place in April of 1973. We had had a pretty long and cold winter by Iowa standards and were enjoying the spring thaw. But being in the Midwest where the weather can change as fast as it does on the Sea of Galilee, a huge nor’easter developed which dumped large quantities of thick, wet, snow followed by a wind shift and an Alberta clipper causing the snow to drift across much of the state. I don’t recall the exact number of inches that accumulated but it was substantial. Our lane drifted shut with a continuous pile of snow ten feet high from top to bottom. Most of the snowplows had been removed from the trucks so only the primary highways were being cleared while the secondary and gravel roads went untouched unless a venturous farmer was bored. As you looked across the horizon, the amount of snow was the frigid equivalent of the recent flood waters with only the second stories or tops of the houses being seen.

Now most people would have stayed inside during such a terrible storm but my sister was in love! Her fiancé was stationed in Texas and wrote to her every day and she just couldn’t live without that daily letter. So somehow she commandeered me into making the two mile hike with her into the Post Office.

The snow was extremely deep but it had a light crust of ice on top due to the quick freeze. This enabled us to sort of walk on top of the drifts except that every two or three steps we would sink down to our hips. It was kind of funny and we were laughing uncontrollably although we were getting worn out quickly and not making much progress. So I suggested that if we act as if we were lighter than we were and didn’t think about how deep the snow was then maybe we could get further faster. So once again, pulling ourselves up and forward, I kept repeating, “Think light thoughts, think light thoughts,” and by golly it actually worked! Every now and again we would get out of rhythm or start laughing or think about how preposterous this whole comedy probably looked and actually was, and then we would sink once again. But as long as we kept looking ahead and not over-thinking the situation, we kept our footing and finally arrived in town.

Now looking back, in conjunction with this Gospel passage, our trip across the snow drifts was similar to Peter’s experience of walking on the water toward Jesus. As long as Peter kept his head up and focused on Jesus he was just fine. But as soon as he took notice of his surroundings and the strong winds, he began to over-think his situation and let his fears get the best of him, and began to sink. The only difference is as opposed to packed snow there is no resistance in water. Peter didn’t stop at the hips; he just kept sinking, which should be no surprise to us because everyone knows that when you throw a “rock” into the water, it’s going to sink!”

Now once again, in context, this is what it is; a miracle story. Not just the walking on water part but also the calming of the weather part as well. And again, this miracle appears with some variation in three of the four Gospels which gives it weight on the scale of authenticity.

But for Matthew it could mean much more. Matthew’s Gospel was probably written some forty to fifty years after the Crucifixion at the time in which Jewish Christians were in the process of being booted out of the synagogue and persecuted by their own countrymen. So the boat is symbolic for the early Church. It was a tumultuous time in which the fledgling Church was being battered by the waves of uncertainty, far from any solid ground from which they were familiar, and the winds of providence appeared to be against them.

Accordingly, if the boat is the church then the sea can be seen as the turmoil which surrounded them. As one commentary states: “The sea itself in biblical thought connotes the forces of chaos, held at bay in the creative act of God, but always threatening. To the biblical mind, being on the sea is itself a threat, representing all the anxieties and dark powers that threaten the goodness of the created order. To be at sea evokes images of death, the active power that threatens the goodness of life. The sea is here a barrier that separates the disciples from Jesus, who represents the presence of God. In the midst of the chaos of the world, they are left alone… with only their fragile craft preserving them from its threat, buffeted by the stormy winds of conflict and persecution…”

But it isn’t just the “presence of God” that saves the day but rather the Word of God, Jesus. When the disciples see him walking on the water amidst the storm they are terrified thinking they are seeing an apparition. But he calmly tells them, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” The literal Greek says, “Relax, I am God, there is nothing to fear!” And he proves it when he steps into the boat and the wind ceases to blow and the waters become calm. And then the disciples appropriately begin to worship him.

But what about Peter’s little adventure? Peter’s problem wasn’t only that he took his eyes off Jesus but wanted proof of the presence of Christ and got out of the boat! Doesn’t that describe many Christians? When we have doubts as to what to believe, instead of staying in the safety of the boat, we too often abandon ship losing focus of our objective, exposing ourselves to the vicarious winds of so-called knowledge, which may provide the illusion of propelling us forward but without proper discernment has the power to crush us beneath the waves of ambiguity. Peter’s message to us is not "If we have enough faith, we will overcome all our problems in spectacular ways." But rather if we have enough faith, we would believe the word of Jesus as mediating the presence and reality of God. “Faith is not being able to walk on the water…but daring to believe, in the face of all the evidence, that God is with us in the boat, made real in the community of faith as it makes its way through the storm, battered by the waves.”

Currently our Church and the Anglican Communion is being battered by the waters and wind of chaos. But the key is not to give up hope and jump overboard. The answer is to be constantly aware of the presence of God in our midst, and listen to His revealed and unchangeable Word, Christ Jesus, and let His Spirit calm the chaotic waters. And then most importantly, invite Jesus in; let him into his own boat for he is our only Master and Commander.

Only Jesus can transform the unruly waves into calm water. Only Jesus can save us in spite of our doubt. All we have to do is keep our eyes on him and listen to his words so that as Paul said to the Ephesians, we may be equipped “for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until all of us come into the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ. We must no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people’s trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming. But speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head,” Christ Jesus. (Eph 4 12-16 NRSV) Gloria Patri