Dangerous Waters

Fire ants walking on water.  Creepy, but also really amazing.

October 18, 2015

Matthew 14:22-33 

22 Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. 23 And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, 24 but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. 25 And early in the morning he came walking toward them on the sea. 26 But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear. 27 But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”

28 Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” 29 He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus. 30 But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” 31 Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” 32 When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. 33 And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”

Sermon: “Dangerous Waters”

Jesus was having a rough time of it.  He had taught droves of people parables about the kingdom of heaven and felt like they were just nodding along, but not understanding his words any more than my dog understands math (okay, she does understand how excited to get over two treats).  Jesus didn’t know if he was making an impact.  Then, Herod had John the Baptist, the man who baptized Jesus, beheaded.  All to woo a woman (I do think chocolate would have been a better choice).  Then, Jesus, his grief still fresh, tried to get away from it all.  But droves of people – well over 5,000 – followed him on foot, and putting their needs before his own, he fed every last one of them.

Completely exhausted, Jesus needed a break.  If we think God never grows weary, we underestimate the deep care God has for us.  Life for Jesus had been one storm after another, and this time, he had to get away from it all. 

He made his disciples get into a boat and sent them away from him, while he went on a mountain to pray.  I think even Jesus knew if he didn’t take time for Sabbath, for rest and prayer, he would never be able to serve.  He needed a shelter from life’s storms, and he took it for several hours.

In the meantime, the disciples in that boat faced a literal storm.  The boat got further and further away from shore and they panicked.  I don’t think they thought they would survive the night.  I do think Jesus always knew they would.  So, after taking the time he needed to pray, he went to them, walking on the water.  The fact that their first reaction was thinking he was a ghost shows just how rattled they were by that storm. 

We all know that sort of soul-chilling fear, don’t we?  Because we all know what it is to feel trapped in a storm.

We might call the storm cancer or depression, anxiety, loneliness or dementia.  We might call it anger or exhaustion or financial insecurity.  We might call it grief or strained relationships or boredom.  Whatever its name, we’re all in a storm of some form, all the time.

And where is Jesus?  Well, that’s an interesting question.  Sometimes, he might seem far away on a mountain top somewhere.  We might feel like it’s just up to us.  Fear might take over in that panicked moment. And we then have two options: we can keep faith and walk on the water, or we can give up and assume Jesus isn’t with us.

Sarah, Andrey and I studied this passage with our homeless friends at Mercy Community Church in Atlanta this week.  We went to take them blankets for the winter, but mostly we went to show them they matter to us, as an extension of our own church family.  Ivan, one of the homeless members there, said something powerful about this passage from Matthew.  He said, “Isn’t it interesting that, when Peter considered walking on water, he said, ‘If it is you, Jesus, command me to walk on the water towards you.’ If.  He didn’t know if Jesus really was who he said he was or not, but he walked on water towards him anyway.  And then, when the wind picked up and he looked away from Jesus and began to sink in doubt, he cried out for help.   And Jesus immediately reached out his hand and helped him.  Which means that Jesus was within arm’s reach the whole time!  He was so close, and still Peter doubted.”

So you see, even if we hold our faith very closely, if we attend church regularly, if we pray often, if we feel ourselves to be “close” to Jesus, we’re still going to have those doubts, and sometimes we’ll sink into them, especially in the middle of a storm.  But when we do, and cry for help, Jesus is right there, never out of reach (where he always is). 

So that is keeping our faith, even when we doubt, the first part of how I believe we survive the storms of this life. 

The second part is walking on water.  Now, I’m not recommending that we all head to the lake in Ms. Sue’s park and give it a go!  I’m saying we have to help keep everyone’s head above the surface of those stormy, dangerous waters.

The recent flooding in South Carolina gives us an interesting picture of what this looks like.  With such massive floods, so many creatures have struggled to survive, fighting with those waters, battling against them.  But not fire ants.  Fire ants (which I honestly never thought I’d use for a sermon illustration!) have been walking on water.

When waters rise, a colony gathers together, linking their little tarsi, like hands, and forming one massive raft.  The ants secrete an oily residue that helps them float on the surface of the water, and they keep in constant motion.  They survive by teamwork – the ants move over and around one another, so that no ant has to be in the water working there for too long.  They can do this for several days, until they get to high ground.

The ants walk on dangerous waters, and because everyone helps everyone else, they survive. 

What a challenge for us to consider: how do we support each other in dangerous waters in our church, in our community, in our nation, in our world? 

I don’t think we often show this ingenious, compassionate cooperation innate to nature.  I’ll tell you why.  I once had to do lifeguard training to work at a summer camp and, despite being a beacon of physical fitness, I failed miserably.  I finally told the director you really don’t want a lifeguard who just barely passed her tests.  But here’s what I did learn from that training: the most dangerous thing in the water is not a strong current or rocks or even snakes.  The most dangerous thing in the water is a distressed swimmer.  Because when you try to rescue one, often the panic of the moment makes them jump up on you and push you into the water instead.  Instead of cooperating for survival, they compete with you.  And the results can be deadly.

I wonder how we survive storms…those dangerous waters of life we find ourselves in?  Do we allow our panic to overwhelm, like Peter, and focus on our own survival at any cost?  Or do we decide to rise above those dangerous waters, and walk upon them together, in partnership, in community, like those fire ants?

We are called to have faith, even when it seems like we are beyond Jesus’ reach (because our friend Ivan reminds us we never are).  And we are called to walk on water together, making sure no one is abandoned at the bottom doing all the work, but that we are constantly moving to bring fairness and equity and hope to everyone.  That’s the only way we will all survive, if we serve the whole rather than our individual needs.

And in a world of climate change and flooding, of greater gaps between those who have too much and those who don’t have enough, of religious extremism that makes it tempting to respond in the same way, of pretending we’re okay to save face when we’re really not, we need to remember, we’re all in this storm of life together.  And together is the only way we’ll make it through, with God’s help.  Amen.