The Rev. Dr. Kenneth H. Saunders III
Greeneville, TN
1 Kings 19:9-18
Psalm 85:8-13
Romans 10:5-15
Matthew 14:22-33
When I was in my twenties, I trained as a volunteer firefighter for the Goose Creek Rural Volunteer Fire Department in Goose Creek, SC. One of the skills we had to master was climbing a tall extension ladder. Once we reached the height where we were supposed to work, we would secure ourselves, or lock in, by wrapping our non-dominant leg through a rung of the ladder. That way our hands were free to operate a hose, use extrication tools, or perform whatever task was needed.
I tell you this because it was one of the scariest things I have ever done. Even though I’m a bit of an adrenaline junkie, I don’t like heights. I don’t like that feeling when your stomach suddenly rises into your throat. I don’t like the weakness that creeps into your legs or how your mind seems to freeze. Standing thirty or forty feet in the air on nothing but a ladder is not my idea of a good time.
In fact, my fear nearly prevented me from qualifying. Then my captain said something that has stayed with me ever since. He said, “Just climb. Keep your eyes on the horizon or whatever is directly in front of you. But whatever you do, don’t look down. If you look down, you’ll freeze. And if you freeze, you won’t be able to do your job or help anybody.” I’ve thought about those words many times over the years. When I was reading today’s Gospel, it seemed to me that Peter was climbing his own type of ladder. Except his ladder is water.
We know the story pretty well. Jesus went away again to try to find some peace and quiet. The disciples get in a boat to go to the other side of the lake, but have spent the night fighting against the wind. Their small fishing boat is being battered by waves. They’re exhausted, they’re frightened, and they’re completely alone or at least they think they are.
Then, just before dawn, they see someone walking toward them on the water. Naturally, they think they are seeing things and assume it’s a ghost. They know the storm is real, the waves are real. Their fear is definitely real. If you’ve ever been caught in a small boat when the wind suddenly comes up, you know exactly what they’re experiencing. Then Jesus speaks those wonderful words, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”
Peter, being Peter, doesn’t simply want reassurance. He wants to know for real that he’s not just seeing things. “Lord, if it is you,” he says, “command me to come to you on the water.” And Jesus simply says, “Come.” Jesus doesn’t offer a long explanation... No theological lecture... No detailed instructions... No training... No preconditions… Just one word, “Come.”
Peter steps out of the boat and, incredibly, begins walking across the water toward Jesus. For a few moments, Peter does what should be impossible. But then Matthew tells us something very important. “When Peter noticed the strong wind, he became frightened.”
He took his focus off of Jesus. He looked at the waves. He looked at the storm. He looked down. And that’s when Peter began to sink. Notice that the storm didn’t suddenly become stronger. The waves didn’t suddenly get higher. The circumstances hadn’t changed. What changed was Peter’s focus. Fear took over.
The funny thing is, Peter isn’t the first servant of God whose fear became greater than his faith. Elijah had been there long before him. Just before today’s Old Testament reading, Elijah stood on Mount Carmel and witnessed one of the greatest miracles in Scripture.
Fire fell from heaven. God’s power was unmistakable. And yet one threat from Queen Jezebel sends Elijah running for his life. Because of his fear, Elijah hides in a cave, convinced that he is alone, thinking that he has failed, convinced that the future is over. Then God comes... not in the wind, not in the earthquake, not in the fire... but in the sound of sheer silence.
Why? Because sometimes what frightened people need most is not another display of God’s power. They need the quiet assurance of God’s presence. Isn’t that exactly what happens in today’s Gospel? The disciples don’t need Jesus to stop the storm first. They just need to know he is there. Before he calms anything, Jesus says, “Take heart. It is I. Do not be afraid.” The miracle begins, not when the wind stops, but when they recognize the One who is standing in the middle of it.
Elijah teaches us that God’s presence is often quieter than our fears. Peter teaches us that our fears become louder when we stop focusing on Christ. Both stories remind us that faith is not the absence of storms. Faith is focusing on the fact that God is already present in them. So, in effect, both of these readings are about focus… and keeping your attention on what’s most important. And, isn’t that true for us?
Y’all know that I ride a motorcycle. When riding a motorcycle, you’re taught to keep your head up and your head and eyes focused on what’s in front of you. It’s said if you look down, you go down… It’s the oddest thing, really… If you see a pothole or an obstacle in front of you and you stare at it, the bike will go in that direction, and you’ll end up driving right into the pothole.
I don’t have to tell you what it’s like to look down. We all know what it is like. We look at the medical diagnosis, we look at our bank accounts, and we look at our broken relationships. We look at all the challenges before us and the uncertainty of our future. We look at the divisions in our communities and our nation. We look at wars, disasters, violence, and suffering. And it’s not long before the fears begin to overwhelm us, and, like Peter, we begin to sink.
The interesting thing is that Peter’s greatest obstacle wasn’t the storm and it wasn’t even the water. It was actually the boat. The boat feels safe. It’s familiar. It’s what is comfortable. Yet, the boat is still being tossed about by the storm.
How often do we build boats of our own? How often do we place our trust in our possessions, our careers, our savings... our accomplishments and our reputations? Sometimes we even trust the certainty that we know what’s right; we think we know all the answers and have everything figured out. These become our boats... these become our places of false security that promise safety but can’t save us.
Jesus doesn’t call Peter to stay comfortable; he calls him to trust. In our lessons, I think that’s where Christ is inviting us today. What boat are we afraid to leave? What fears keep us from responding to God’s call? What has us fixated and frozen, looking down, instead of looking toward Christ? The good news is that Peter’s story doesn’t end with him sinking and drowning.
The moment Peter realizes he can’t save himself, he cries out, “Lord, save me!” It’s not a polished prayer or a carefully crafted speech. It’s just a simple prayer of three desperate words, “Lord, save me!” And immediately, Matthew says, Jesus reaches out his hand. That’s divine favor, that’s grace, that’s love. Before Peter can climb back into the boat, before he can explain himself, Jesus reaches out. That’s what Jesus always does.
And that’s where Paul’s words in Romans become a powerful complement to the Gospel lesson. “The word is near you,” Paul says, “on your lips and in your heart.” Reminding us that salvation isn’t something we earn by being fearless. It’s something we receive by trusting the One who reaches out for us. Paul says that if we confess with our lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in our hearts that God raised him from the dead, we will be saved. Faith doesn’t pretend that the storm doesn’t exist. Faith is trusting that Christ is present in the middle of it.
My fire captain taught me that if I kept looking down, I’d freeze. But Jesus teaches us something even deeper. If we keep looking only at the storm of our lives, our fears will overwhelm us. But if we keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, we discover that he has been holding us all along.
Every one of us is facing some kind of storm. Every one of us has a boat we would rather stay in. And every one of us will have moments when fear gets the better of us. The invitation today is not to become fearless. The invitation is to become faithful... To step out... To trust.
Elijah hears the quiet voice. Peter reaches for the outstretched hand. Paul tells us that “the word is near you, on your lips and in your heart.” The message is the same in every reading... God is nearer than we imagine.
We tend to look for God in dramatic displays of power in earthquakes, in miracles, in the wind and waves. But more often, we discover God in a whispered promise, “Take heart. It is I. Do not be afraid.” And when our fears finally overwhelm us, we pray the simplest, most humble prayer that we know. “Lord, save me.”
And immediately… immediately... Christ reaches out his hand.
No comments:
Post a Comment