Readings: Psalm 85: 8-13, Matthew 14:22-33
Let us pray: Gracious God, as we enter into your Word, may
we all be assured of your love, challenged in our living and renewed in our
faith, in the name of Christ. Amen.
I want to begin with a quote from Ernest
Campbell, who was Pastor of Riverside Church in New York: ‘The reason that we seem to lack faith in our
time is that we are not doing anything that requires it.’[1]
Is that true? William Willimon believes it is so. In a sermon from 2007[2]
he said this:
“If Peter had not ventured forth, had not
obeyed the call to walk on the water, then Peter would never have had this great
opportunity for recognition of Jesus and rescue by Jesus. I wonder if too many of us are merely
splashing about in the safe shallows and therefore have too few opportunities
to test and deepen our faith. The story
today implies if you want to be close to Jesus, you have to venture forth out
on the sea, you have to prove his promises through trusting his promises,
through risk and venture.”
What exactly does that mean? What is risk and venture, especially in our
context? What are the ‘safe’ shallows
and the ‘deep’ waters of the sea of faith for our lives and what are the fears
that hold us back?
For the disciples in this familiar story we
can discern some of the fears that held them paralysed, afraid to move. Sure they were out in a boat on the lake
(something that might be a scary place for some of us)– but it was a familiar space,
something they did often – it was their livelihood after all and they probably
felt pretty much in control. Even with
the storm and high seas, they were in familiar territory! No it
wasn’t the storm that scared them – it was the appearance of Jesus that terrified
them to the depths of their being. He was
where he shouldn’t be, in the middle of the lake, doing what he shouldn’t be
able to do, walking towards them over the water, and it wasn’t until they heard
his voice that they realised it wasn’t a ghost – it actually was Jesus. But the fear remained, holding them to the
shallows – only Peter stepped out of the boat towards Jesus, big hearted
impetuous faithful Peter. But even then
fear was not far away – he got distracted by the storm raging, he faltered, he
stumbled, he cried out in despair ‘Lord save me’ and Jesus reached out to him
and took his hand.
There is much we can talk about with this
passage – the significance fact that Peter’s risk brought high reward and
understanding for those who stayed behind, the fact that this was a moment
similar to the transfiguration where the disciples gain a pivotal moment of
understanding and insight into Jesus identity and mission, that prayer preceded
and upheld Jesus in this moment and the power of God to bring calm to the worst
of the storms in our lives. At least an
hour of sermon coming up!
But today I want to talk about the fear
that holds us back in faith, keeps us in the shallows, using Willimon’s words.
I don’t think our fear in our faith is as
obviously labelled as some people would make out.
For each of us it is different. I had more fear for instance of flying in a
big plane than a four seater or a glider.
Why? Because I didn’t understand the
science that kept such a big piece of metal in the air but when I was in the
smaller propeller plane or the glider I could get a sense of the aerodynamics
that kept us airborne.
I
would be a paralysed wreck if I tried to play some music before you but some of
you would be just that if you were asked to step up here and speak, something
that is relatively ok for me (and I hope for you).
Others of us fear being with those who we
might not be able to predict the behaviour of or those who bring conflict into
our lives or who threaten our family, our security, our freedom. We fear boredom, aging, change, lack of
change, John Key, David Cunliffe, ....... the list goes on.
There are people who are fearless about
standing on a street corner preaching the gospel, of ministering in unknown and
uncertain communities, but whose fears emerge in other ways - who refuse to
allow that there could be differing faith views to theirs, presumably because
they are scared it might shake the foundations of their certainties. A couple of weeks ago I fell into
conversation with a Presbyterian Minister who I knew had different ideas to
mine on the subject of gay leadership and marriage in the church. We both agreed on the diversity of opinion
within the church. The difference was
that I said I respected their right to their view whereas they said that the
church needed to correct my view. Is the
need to be right a fear of the immensity of God I wonder?
There is the fear of the unknown, the
unexpected – maybe that is what held the disciples back in the boat. Jesus appeared to them in such an unexpected
way that they thought him a ghost! When
Christ comes to us in the guise of a rough and ready, the displaced, the angry,
the culturally or generationally different, do we have the eyes to see the hand
stretched out and the heart and courage to respond?
There is the fear of failure – as Peter
failed – yet did he? Willimon words
again: ‘“If Peter had not ventured forth, had not obeyed the call to walk on
the water, then Peter would never have had this great opportunity for
recognition of Jesus and rescue by Jesus.”
If fear keeps us from stepping out on our faith journey we will be the
poorer in our experience and knowledge of Christ. Jesus expects us to walk that
difficult path in some confidence and trust.
Sure we will be distracted, there will be times when other things seem
to overwhelm our lives but this story tells us that it is exactly then that
Christ comes to us- when we are sinking, when we have need of him the most.
It seems that, on one hand, fear as we have been talking about it here is a powerful and invasive emotion that can stultify, paralyse, limit us in who we could be. And, on the other, Jesus is the constant enemy of fear, calling us to risk all in trust and commitment. Which do we choose? Stay in the boat or step out into the water. Trust in the promise of Christ to be with us in our venturing forth or allow fear of the unknown, the different, the unexpected to stunt our growing in faith and experience of God.
We could really sum this up in the words of
the last verse of the hymn that we sang at Alan’s funeral on Saturday – a new
hymn to many of us by Father Frank Anderson:
As I gaze into the night
down the future of my years,
I’m not sure I want to walk past horizons that I know!
But I feel my spirit called like a stirring deep within,
restless, ’til I live again beyond the fears that close me in!
So I leave my boats behind! Leave them on familiar shores!
Set my heart upon the deep! Follow you again, my Lord!
I’m not sure I want to walk past horizons that I know!
But I feel my spirit called like a stirring deep within,
restless, ’til I live again beyond the fears that close me in!
So I leave my boats behind! Leave them on familiar shores!
Set my heart upon the deep! Follow you again, my Lord!
I would like to finish with the words of
the Psalm for today: for me a rather powerful reassurance of God’s promise to
us of right relationship, of faithful presence and of peace in the midst of the
storms of life. Listen again to these words
that the singer of the Psalm uses to imagine the salvation of the world - “
Steadfast love
and faithfulness will meet;
righteousness
and peace will kiss each other.
Faithfulness will spring up from the ground,
and righteousness will look down from the sky.
The Lord will give what is good, and our land will yield its increase.
Righteousness will go before him, and will make a path for his steps.[3]
Faithfulness will spring up from the ground,
and righteousness will look down from the sky.
The Lord will give what is good, and our land will yield its increase.
Righteousness will go before him, and will make a path for his steps.[3]
Jesus hand is held out to
us – let us respond each in our own way, let’s be doing something that requires
our faith and overcomes our fears – for the sake of the healing of the
world. Amen.
Margaret Garland
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