Emmanuel Church, Bungay, Suffolk

The Minister's Sermons

"Help! We're Sinking" by Revd Bruce Waldron - 7th August 2005 Matthew 14:22-35
Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side [of the lake], while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land,? for the wind was against them. And early in the morning he came walking toward them on the sea. But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, "It is a ghost!" And they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, "Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid."
Peter answered him, "Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water." He said, "Come." So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus. But when he noticed the strong wind,? he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, "Lord, save me!" Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, "You of little faith, why did you doubt?" When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, "Truly you are the Son of God."
When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret. After the people of that place recognized him, they sent word throughout the region and brought all who were sick to him, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.

Matthew's gospel was written long after the event of Jesus life, probably at a time when most of the disciples had died, and the church was struggling to find its identity and its mission.
Around 72-74 ad, 40 years after the events that the gospels relate, Israel's revolt against Rome is crushed by the imperial forces. The great temple is no more, a pile of rubble. In his later years, the Emperor Nero had mounted a vicious attack upon Jews and Christians for their defiance of the edict that he was to be worshipped as a God.
Although dead now, his legacy has left a battered and bruised church, afraid and torn by the deep feelings between those who have suffered and those who have avoided the suffering by recanting their faith, only to ask to come back into the church following the easing of the persecutions under the Emperor Vespasian. It is to this community that Matthew writes.
In the feeling of the people, the fledgling church is a boat all at sea, buffeted by the waves of oppression and persecution, unsure if it is a part of Judaism, or something quite different, despised equally by its own mother religion, the pagan cults of Rome and the sophistry of the Greeks, the first flush of conversions somewhat diminished by fear and dispersion.
And Christ is nowhere to be seen, ascended into heaven, on the mountain top communing with God, far from the sweat and fear of toiling people in fear of their lives and ever confronted with the possibility of the boat being swamped. It is not surprising that this story is told and retold by Matthew, Mark and Luke.
The story has a particular poignancy for the Christian church. They have been struggling against the waves all the dark night of persecution but their efforts, their strength and their battling has not been without merit or result. The boat is still afloat, and they are still there, despite their fear and their discomfort.
Their effort is a part of the reason the boat is afloat. Now Nero is no more, and as the dawn appears on the horizon of the empire, the boat is still there. But the waves are still strong. The winds adverse and threatening.
Yet even though the faithful fear that they are battling the elements alone, they are not, for Jesus has seen the waves, has seen the wind, and has seen their valiant efforts that seem to them to have achieved nothing. Rowing against the wind, they have made no headway but Christ is coming to them, and they have not lost the battle.
It is early in the morning when they see him, walking on the very waves that threaten to engulf the boat, and the disciples with it. That which seems to be undefeatable is proven to be under the feet of the Lord of all creation. In much the same way, the Cross seemed to be the undefeatable enemy until resurrection power proved it to be a hollow victory.
As with the disciples gathered in the upper room, defeated and afraid, the power, and the presence of Christ seemed an alien thing to these people, caught up in the struggle of the moment, so much so that they do not recognize the one who is their friend, their Lord, their saviour, present in the middle of the fear and struggle.
In the early morning our conscious minds are at their lowest ebb and often, when we are at our lowest ebb, we cannot comprehend the presence of Christ, even if he is there. The church of the day could not have possibly foreseen that out of the horror of the persecution and oppression would come a great church, spreading the nations of the earth.
In their fear at this seeming new terror, this apparition in the waves, adding to the fear they already have, mixed with exhaustion because they have been struggling all night, comes the recognition of something familiar; echoing over the waves, a voice that they know, mixed with a presence and power they cannot understand.
Had they not endured the waves, they could not ever have known the power that would overcome the tempest.
Peter responds as Peter so often does, caught in the moment, over expectant of his own faith, and overestimating his own commitment.
He over-extends himself and starts to sink, suddenly conscious of the size of the waves and the instability of his footing. And it is at that moment, when he thinks all is lost, a hand reaches out, and lifts him out of the waves, out of the water, out of that which threatens his faith, even his very existence.
The words of Jesus to Peter "Oh you of little faith. Why did you doubt?" are not so much a chastisement of Peter as a very searching question. The same question may well be aimed at the church to whom Matthew is writing, who are also feeling that they are sinking beneath the waves "You of little faith. Why do you doubt?"
The same question may be directed at the church today that so often faces questions of small numbers, lack of children, lack of young families, a world faced by unparalleled nuclear proliferation and a terrorist threat of unequalled breadth. And we wonder "Where is Jesus. Are we to be engulfed by the waves of our times?"
Or perhaps, such a question may be directed at us in our personal existence and our own relationship with God.
Peter is gently confronted by Jesus with a very simple statement. "Oh you of little faith! Why do you doubt?"
Peter could have chosen to be deeply offended with Jesus and protested that this wasn't the case, he'd sunk for other reasons, he'd sunk in the midst of an act of faith, braver than all the others, risking his life to respond in faith. But he didn't. Peter accepted a reality of his life, not as a judgement - but as an observation, something he needed to take seriously, to address, something which had been addressed in the very experience he'd had.
There are very few people who can argue with the statement "Oh you of little faith. Why do you doubt?" But there are also very few who take the question seriously.
You would think the answer was simple. "I doubt because I'm sinking in these huge dirty great waves that threaten to drown me!" But Jesus is asking a question that sits deeper than the event of the moment, that sits behind the fear on the water as well as the fear in the water. In some ways, they are not very different. Just a bit more obvious perhaps.
Often it is the unaddressed and unaccepted lack of faith which inhibits our relationship with God. There is an anthem that we sang during the Celebrations of Sheila's 40 year partnership with the Emmanuel Choir, and one of the lines runs: "Lord make my life a prayer for pardon. Forgive my weak and faltering faith."
As I read that, I thought "What? Sing that? I haven't got a weak and faltering faith! Have I?"
But I was required to sing it, as part of the choir, as part of a prayerful anthem.
How should I deal with that? Can I sing it if I don't mean it? As I said on Saturday fortnight ago, at the celebration, 'Our music is an act of worship, not an act of entertainment. Please don't clap after the choir has sung!' It is a foolish person who utters false or empty words in worship of God, and so, we all had to take that line seriously.
"Forgive my weak and faltering faith."
In reality, as uncomfortable as it is, I don't think any one of us can say that this isn't a reality.
But in accepting that reality, we leave ourselves open to two very good eventualities. The first is to know that we aren't condemned because of it, for even as Jesus says this to Peter, with great gentle strength, he lifts him out of the water - in love, understanding and forgiveness.
The second is, as we accept this statement and question, and take it seriously, we leave ourselves open to recognise those places where we need to grow in our faith.
We dramatically stunt our growth in faith and faithfulness if we are so spiritually proud that we cannot confess and address our lack of faith and faithfulness, and acknowledge our need to grow in faith, discipleship and understanding.
It is precisely in the context of Peter's humble acceptance of Jesus diagnosis, that he and the others are able to worship Jesus and say "Truly, you are the Son of God."
And finally, they are in the boat together - with Jesus. The wind ceases, the waves are calmed, they arrive on land, and again, the ministry of the Christian church is what it should be, the sick and the wounded are brought for healing from all over the region, and people are restored to faith and to wholeness.
The spiritual pride of those in the church who had endured the persecutions without recanting was impacting as a barrier to their own faith growth, and their judgement of those who had been weak in the faith. Only in the humble acceptance of their own imperfections, could the church move on from the storms of persecution, in the peace that Christ brings, through gentle forgiveness, and the hand of loving uplifting. We too need such humility, and love.
It is Paul who said "We who are strong must bear with the failings of those who are weak and not to please ourselves."
If we have strength, it is a gift of grace, and given so that we may lift up and strengthen those who are weak.
May God grant to us, his people today, the humility to accept our lack of faith, to know we are loved regardless, and lifted up; to pass through the times of storm and tempest, and to remain faithful to the one who brings peace to the waves that threaten to engulf us, that our lives too might bring healing and blessing to our land.