August 13, 2023
Rev. Mary Erickson
Hope Lutheran Church
Matthew 14:22-33
A Faith for Rocky Waters
Friends, may grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and Christ Jesus our Lord.
“Take heart, it is I.” How wonderful it must have been for the disciples to hear Jesus’ voice speaking to them from the middle of that tempest.
Do you remember when you were a kid and something scary happened at night? You had a bad dream, or you heard an unexpected noise outside, like a branch scraping up against the window. Or there was a summer storm raging and the thunder and lightning woke you up. How terrifying it was in the dark!
You’d leap from your bed and run to your parents’ room and you’d wake them up. Being in their presence was a consolation. Their tender comfort helped you get through the threatening moment. Just being with them made everything better.
Tempestuous waters are emblematic of the trials we face. The sea is so much bigger and forceful than we are. Our tiny boat is nothing in comparison to the giant waves. Down we go, into the watery valley, with the waves towering above us, ready to crash down on top and swamp our boat. Then we surge back up to a maddening height, only to topple downwards again. We pitch back and forth, and the storm threatens to tear our small ship in two.
We encounter stormy waters several times in the Bible. First in Genesis, the Spirit of God broods over the surface of the chaotic waters. Then later, a handful of people and a remnant of the animals are sealed into an ark, where they’re tossed on the flooded earth for 40 days and 40 nights.
In our gospels, the disciples cross a violent sea while Jesus is sound asleep in the hold. They wake him up and he orders the storm to cease. And it does! The disciples say, “Who is this, who even the wind and the waves obey?”
And today’s story. Jesus has just finished feeding the mass of 5000-plus people. He sends the disciples in their boat to go ahead of him to the other side of Lake Galilee. He dismisses the crowd, and then at evening, he went up a mountain to pray.
The disciples were seasoned fishermen. They’d crossed Lake Galilee more times than they could count. They knew the way across, even at night. But that night, a storm kicked up. They had to row against the bracing wind. It was hard rowing.
When you’re facing difficult challenges, it feels just like rowing against the wind.
• Multiple deadlines at work, all of their timelines converging. Work demands can be extremely stressful and taxing.
• Parenthood can feel like running a marathon, with all of the doctor’s appointments, ball practices, sleepovers, music practices, AND all the domestic chores to boot. You barely make it to the weekend, and then the next hurricane hits on Monday and you do it all over again.
• Mental illness and depression affect not only the person in the throes of it, but all of their loved ones, too. It’s such a struggle. The frustration, confusion, and despair, the constant struggle is exhausting.
• And young people aren’t exempt from the storms of life. School presents plenty of stress into young lives. The pressure of grades, the social hierarchy, where and how you fit – or don’t fit, bullies. COVID-19 was a very difficult time for our youth – the isolation, distance learning. The effects of that ordeal still linger.
Up and down amidst the waves we go. We row with all our might, but it doesn’t seem like we make any headway.
But there, on the waters, there comes a form. Someone is coming to us.
Matthew tells us that Jesus is coming towards them. His intent is to meet them on the waters in the midst of their struggle. They are his destination. As they battle the waves and the wind, Jesus is coming to them.
They’re not sure what to make of this figure on the water. When you’re stressed or fearful, you don’t think clearly. You lose your peripheral vision. You don’t see as fully, you don’t think as swiftly under duress. They don’t know what to make of Jesus, and they think the worst. A ghost is coming towards them.
That’s when Jesus calls out to them, “Take heart, it is I! Don’t be afraid.” It is I. Matthew’s Greek text says “I AM.” Jesus identifies himself using the Hebrew name for God.
• I AM, from the beginning to the end.
• In fire and in storm, I AM.
• Through all trials and joys, I AM.
• Amidst heartbreak and setback, I AM.
• In sickness and struggle, I AM.
• In confusion and in doubt, I AM.
• Even in death, I AM.
God is with us through all things. The Great I AM is ever present.
Peter isn’t sure what to make of Jesus. He uses conditional “if – then” language. It’s what Satan said when he tempted Jesus, “If you are the Son of God, then change these stones to bread.” Peter says, “If it is you, then call to me to join you on the water.”
So often, Peter is depicted as the hero of this story. He’s the only disciple who shows courage. The rest of the disciples cower in the boat, but Peter steps out. Sermons tout inspiring phrases like, “If you’re going to walk on water, then you have to get out of the boat.”
But Peter is not the focus of this story; Jesus is. Peter is in the boat, struggling with the rest of the disciples against the storm. Jesus is the Great I AM. He’s the one walking on water.
Peter is showing us his humanity. He’s a human just like we are, fallible and irrational. Just like us, it’s hard for him to see the big picture, especially in the middle of life’s storms.
Peter steps beyond the bounds of humanity. He steps out into godly territory, and in no time, he realizes he’s in way over his head. He cries out to Jesus, and Jesus rescues him. Together they go back to the boat, back to the disciples. And when they get inside, the storm quiets.
After this storm is quieted, there’s no question as to Jesus’ identity. This time, there’s no “Who is this.” They flat out declare, “You are the Son of God!”
So what happened with Peter? Jesus told the disciples to take heart. Heart, “cour” in Latin, is root of the word “courage.” In Jesus, we’re encouraged. We take heart.
When Peter got out of the boat, it wasn’t because of courage. You might say it was a BRAVE act. But bravery isn’t courage. The word bravery comes from a different Latin root: “bravo,” boldness. Peter stepped out in bravado.
As we’re tossed about by life’s storms, we can be tempted by false bravado. But we’re not called upon to be action heroes. We’re not miracle workers; that’s Jesus’ department. Super human strength and effort is not required of us.
This sanctuary is called a nave. If it sounds like our word navy, it’s because they’re related. Nave means ship. When I was in seminary, my worship professor, Don Wisner, told us to picture the sanctuary upside-down. The ceiling is now underneath us, looking for all the world like the keel and hull of a boat.
It’s very common in Nordic countries to find a small model ship suspended from the nave’s ceiling. The tradition of the Votive Ship dates back several centuries. Having such an extensive coastline, many men from that area became sailors and fishermen. When they came back from a voyage, they would craft a model of the ship they had sailed on and gift it to their church. It was a symbol of their humility and gratitude for having safely returned from their sea voyage.
As followers of Jesus in our time and place, we congregate together in this nave. We are now the disciples in the boat. The Christian life of faith is a journey. At times, a fresh breeze fills our sails and we coast along full of joy. There are other moments when we’re swallowed by the doldrums. Nothing stirs and we’re trapped with no way to move forward. And then there are times when all the furies have been released.
In all waters, under every circumstance, hear the words of Jesus, “Take heart, it is I. Have no fear.” In all circumstances, our Lord is faithful. He is with us through all things. And in him, we shall always reach safe harbor.
