The Rev. Neale L. Miller

Sermon for August 10, 2008

Texts: Romans 9:1-5/Matthew 14:22-33

Title: “Grace and Gravity”

              When we left off Sunday a week ago Jesus and his disciples had just finished the miraculous feeding of a crowd of five thousand plus on just five loaves and two fish.  This morning we learn that after dismissing the crowd Jesus set out to resume the activity in which he had planned to engage before the crowd had gathered earlier that day.  That is, “he went up the mountain by himself to pray.”  Before doing so, however, “he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the [opposite] side [of the lake from where they were].”

              It appears that the disciples were a little star-crossed when it came to crossing the Sea of Galilee, at least insofar as those crossings are reported in Matthew’s Gospel. You see, the men encountered heavy seas in each of the crossings Matthew reports.

              Bucking a head wind, the boat was making little progress toward its destination. Matthew does not number the occupants of the boat, Peter being the only disciple identified. 

              If I were a passenger in a boat bucking heavy seas I would draw some comfort from having an experienced seaman like Peter, a fisherman, on board. Presumably he was not the only disciple in the boat who might have been accustomed to the sea’s whims, after all, as many as one half of Jesus’ disciples made their living from the sea. 

              Having seen the gulf when its waters are riled up, there is no way I would want to be on the water at such a time, particularly during the hours of darkness when Matthew reports the disciples were traveling.

              It was the middle of the night and the boat was being battered by the wind. Picture the scene, utter darkness, wind, and to complete the threatening trifecta, a ghost, or at least that was the disciples thought.

The mind is capable of conjuring all sorts of images under stress.  But wait just a minute, this “ghost” had a voice and was speaking to them.  “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”  It was Jesus.

              I’ll tell you what, Jesus, or no Jesus; I’m still hanging on to the side of the boat.  Peter, who built his reputation on impetuous, if not rash actions, was not so reserved.  “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”  Now things looked promising at first, but then the wind and waves reminded him that he was performing a feat he wasn’t created to perform.

              Gravity would only be mocked for so long before he began to sink. “Lord, save me!”

              There is a moral to this story.  If Jesus ever invites you out of the boat, deal with the wind.  If you can’t do that you better stay in the boat. 

              It is no small achievement to deal with the wind.  I spend a good bit of time on a bicycle Saturday mornings.  I can assure you that even a modest headwind can turn enjoyment into drudgery.  Speed decreases as heart rate increases giving the rider the sensation that the pavement is secreting glue. Fact of the matter is, however, that it is through those repeated encounters with the wind that a rider achieves greater endurance, and reaches levels of fitness unattainable, if that rider road exclusively in favorable conditions.     

              What lessons Peter’s encounter with the wind taught we are not given to know, but you better believe that his experience on the water gave him insight into himself as both a man and as a disciple of Jesus that was denied those who remained in the boat.

              There is a special place in God’s heart for those who get out of the boat, for people who are willing to risk.  Impetuous and as short lived as Peter’s performance on the water might have been you better believe that Jesus loved him for it.  Peter failed this time, but so what?  He knew what it meant to buck the wind.  

              The lessons we learn in living, and the overall satisfaction we enjoy in living, are in large part contingent on how we deal with the winds of life.  No person is privileged to live a life where wind, in some guise or another, doesn’t make an appearance.  We may create all the buffers we want. We might be ultra prudent and thoughtful in establishing a master plan for our lives.  We might earn our diploma with honors, land a great job, find the perfect mate, become a contributing member to society, and attend church every Sunday, even serving several terms as elder in the church.  We might to do all the right things.  But the wind will find us, it always does.

              The wind found Peter. We have learned to regard him as first among equals, Jesus’ chief of staff. He wasn’t a perfect human being, none of us is.  Scripture, however, reveals Peter to be as good and upstanding person as any of us are likely to be. Let the record show that the wind humbled Peter out there on the Sea of Galilee, let it also show that the wind humbled Peter on that fateful night when Jesus was arrested.  Not just once, but Peter denied the Lord on three separate occasions in the space of an hour or two.

              The wind found Peter.  “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”  Witnessing Peter’s distress on the sea and the Lord’s rescue each of the occupants of the boat undoubtedly saw his education take a full stride forward in matters pertaining to faith and doubt. But you better believe that Peter, Peter, gasping to catch his breath as Jesus helped him get back in the boat, leaped several strides beyond the others.

“You of little faith, why did you doubt?”  How often those words must have replayed in Peter’s mind over the course of his lifetime.  No, Peter could not ignore his past, but to his credit he learned from it. God helped Peter use his past to build a stronger and more resilient faith.          

              The wind found Peter.  The wind also taught Peter.  Her name is Dawn and she lives in Springfield, Illinois.  Experiencing what she regarded as a midlife crisis, though at 35 many us of might want to set the qualifying age for a such a crisis at least a decade older, [experiencing that midlife crisis] Dawn decided that it was time to step out of her comfort zone and experience the wind.     

              Experiencing the wind in her case meant responding to an ad placed by a community art program that read as follows, “models of all ages, shapes and sizes needed for a ‘Life Drawing’ class.”  Dawn understood that life drawing meant figure drawing and figure drawing meant nude.  Dawn states that “it took three attempts before [she] stayed on the line long enough to leave a message [that she was willing to model].  By that time the wind picked up intensity and her resolve to go through with the project began to weaken.  With a sense of relief she considered the very good possibility that she wouldn’t be called.  Or, if she was called, she knew she could decline.

              As it turned out a representative of the community art program did call, and she did accept.  But why?  To prove to herself that she could do it, was the answer she came up with.

              Dawn writes that the experience of sitting nude before the class that first time was as challenging as she had envisioned it to be. But she had experienced the wind, and she was grateful for the experience.  “As I left the class and walked out into the unsuspecting public [she writes], I enjoyed a secret smile and thought about what I had accomplished.  I had allowed myself to be completely vulnerable and naked---literally naked---in front of a room full of strangers!  I had triumphed over embarrassment and ego.  I was a fearless warrior, standing victorious over the scourge of insecurity. [and she adds] I couldn’t wait to do it again.

              Dawn’s achievement would not rise to that of Daniel who stared down a pack of hungry lions in the lion’s den, but who is to say that a victory over embarrassment and ego is not a victory worthy of the warrior of this modern age?     

              The wind finds us all.  But if we asked Dawn she would likely tell us that there are times when we do well to find the wind. Elton Trueblood one of a past generation’s most thoughtful teachers and lecturers on the Christian faith once said that “the unexamined faith isn’t worth having.” The unexamined faith is a faith that has never ventured into the wind, a faith that to quote a Christian contemporary of Trueblood’s is less a reality than an “inference.”  An inference is a conjecture or an assumption, it has no mass or substance that one might grasp and hold on to.

              Having never been a parent, I can make inferences about what parenting might be like by watching others, and hearing their stories, but my notion of parenting will never become the up all hours of the night, change the diapers reality it has become in these past few weeks for Shannon and Joe who are presenting their baby for baptism today.  Having never stepped into the wind which is parenting, I can only infer what the experience is like.

              Likewise Shannon and Joe can only infer what it might mean to send their child off for the first day of school or place the keys to the car in their child’s hand for the first time. In due time they will step into the wind those particular challenges create, but not anytime soon.

              The inferences, assumptions, and conjectures we often make in life can, but rarely do, negatively impact us.  Such is not the case when our religious faith exists as an inference, assumption or a conjecture. Those who have never attempted to step out of the boat into the wind deprive themselves of self-knowledge.  They don’t really know what is in that “faith” compartment of their lives. What they know of faith has come to them second hand, not through personal encounter.

              Many times when Pam Wegmann does a children’s sermon she produces a prop she calls her “mystery box.”  She invariably takes the box in her hands, gives it a good shake or two and asks the children to guess what is in there. Many of us carry our own mystery box filled with inferences, conjectures, and assumptions concerning our personal faith. Now what that box needs is a really good shake, enough motion to generate a strong circulating wind.

              Peter carried his mystery box labeled faith with him onto the sea, and the wind proceeded to give it a good shake.  Through that experience he learned an important lesson, an essential lesson, he learned that there was very little in that box that could help him withstand the gravity of the sea. The faith he could claim as his own expired when felt the strong wind. He began to sink. 

              Impetuous Peter was done in by the wind, and he was going down. But what Peter didn’t realize was that there is a special place in God’s heart for those who get out of the boat, for people who are willing to risk. It was because he risked that he would experience the powerful arm of grace to save him, yes, save him not despite his doubt, but because of his doubt. Peter doubted, and Jesus was there to save him.  Jesus proved to the Peter and the disciples in the boat that neither the gravity of doubt, nor the gravitational pull of the earth itself, are a match for the grace he is ready to impart.       

              To step into the wind is always challenging.  Dawn sat before the art students naked, her defenses down.  Peter stepped out of the boat making himself naked; his defenses down.  It is challenging to be vulnerable and defenseless, to expose ourselves, doubts and all, before God. Better to stay in the boat and hold on rather than see those pet inferences on faith, our assumptions and conjectures of ours challenged.

              A strong and resilient faith emerges, not through humble acceptance of what others believe, or what the church believes, but through the kind of risk taking that Peter did.  It is through stepping into the wind and forcing God to answer for himself that our faith is won.

              “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?”  Why not challenge God to explain himself, why not doubt, if through those means God is forced to declare himself? For every challenge for every doubt we can mount to God’s existence and sovereignty, God can offer tens of thousands of measures of grace to meet those challenges, and to meet those doubts. Risk the wind, and find the faith.

PRAYER         

              O God, in whose presence each hour of our lives is lived, we occupy this space that has been a meeting place for people like us for nearly fifty years, the faith heritage in which we are anchored spanning thousands of years. We gather as children of Abraham through whom you founded a nation, Israel, and through that nation gave the world your Son, Jesus, who is both our Savior and our brother.

Our names inscribed on a roll of the baptized, we hold membership in one church universal over which Jesus reigns as founder and head.  As the church we welcome its newest member, Luke, son of Shannon and Joe, but your son as well, O God, for we celebrate his birth and his presence with us today as a special gift of your providence.     

              Baptized Luke, the name of one of the four evangelists who gave us the gospels, we know that even as you placed your Word, O God, on the heart of Luke the evangelist, you have endowed our Luke with his special gift, equipping him to make his special contribution to world. May his gift be nurtured in a home where your name is often spoken, where the words and deeds of Jesus are taught, and where worship is a regular part of family live. May Luke find in the church, and its people, the support and encouragement he needs to live to the potential he was created to attain.

              O Christ our brother who prays with us and for us, grant us courage that we might face the winds of life with resilience and courage. Prone to neglect our formation in the faith, the prayer, the study, and the service to neighbor and world through which the faith is nurtured and strengthened, we exist as plants with undeveloped roots. Form in us, O Christ, the daily habits through which a root system is established. Where the ground is hard and unreceptive to growth, there be, O Christ, with a special measure of grace to nurture it to life.

              Heavenly Father, even as we worship today the sons and daughters of the many nations of the world are gathered in China to pursue their Olympic dreams.  Representing nations culturally, economically, and politically diverse, the athletes share a common love for the sports in which they will be participating, and we in whose nations their special gifts were nurtured share a common pride in their achievements. One in their identity as athletes representing the nations of the world, may we as nations collectively find new means to express our oneness as a world community. May the nations of the world, O God, address the besetting problems that face humankind, the deteriorating environment, the vast and growing gap between the world’s rich and poor, hunger that is becoming more and more pervasive, and wars that consume massive resources, resources that could used to build rather than destroy.                 

              Lord, we pray for children who have no chance to develop their special gifts, throw away children in the eyes of the people by whom they were conceived, children to be fondled as toys until the newness wears off, children who will receive no moral grounding, children who, being abused, will turn to abuse as a means of self-expression.  We pray for children whom violence will mold and shape, violence that will ultimately see its offspring killed.

              O God, have mercy on us for tolerating the intolerable, for our failures as citizens to insist that all people have access to affordable medical care, for tolerating a system where campaign contributions earn favoritism, for tolerating policies that are destroying habitat for our nation’s wildlife. Have mercy on us for our waste of the land’s irreplaceable resources. Grant us wisdom, O God, wisdom to think right, live right, and do right.

              To you, O God, we lift our prayers in gratitude for your grace that upholds us amid all the winds of life, even as we pray for those with special needs.  We pray for…