Catch the Wave

Matthew 14:22-33

July 10, 2022 • Mount Pleasant UMC

It's very tempting to turn today’s sermon into a travelogue. We arrived home Friday night and I’m just a little bit tired this morning. It was a good trip, and we experienced a lot of things, most of which you probably saw if you followed my Facebook posts. But, I have to say, every time we go on one of these trips, I am always glad for those who go with me. I’m glad for the bus driver who gets us from place to place. But I am most thankful for the guide. Without the guide, I wouldn’t know where to go next or, for that matter, where we are in the present moment. The guide has the plan. The guide knows the path. And most importantly, the guide has the tickets to get us into all of the places—especially, on this trip, into the passion play! Whenever I travel out of the country, I want to make sure to take good care of the guide, because the success of the trip rises and falls on that one person.

If you don’t see the comparison yet to the life of faith, then I really am too tired to be in the pulpit this morning and am failing at my job. But let me make it obvious: we need a guide not only when we travel but wherever we go in life. Some of us easily accept a guide in life and others of us have had to learn the value of having someone to guide us in rather painful or embarrassing ways. Simon Peter, the disciple of Jesus, is in the latter category. He learned it outside of a boat on a stormy sea.

Last Sunday, Pastor Rick kicked off this series of sermons that will lead us up to Vacation Bible School, called “Make Waves.” We’ve done this for the last few years, giving everyone a chance to hear the stories and get excited about the themes of VBS. I mean, why should only the kids have all the fun? During this year’s VBS, we will be helping kids see how what they do now is important and how it ripples out like a rock dropped in a pond. The choices we make now “make waves” for future generations, so let’s make choices today that align us with Jesus’ purposes and plans. And so there is a lot of water imagery in this year’s VBS Scriptures, including the story we are looking at this morning, the famous story of Peter walking on the water.

Matthew 14 is a busy chapter. Of course, the original authors didn’t write in chapter and verse, those came later, but still. The chapter begins with the violent and ugly death of John the Baptist, and as a reaction to that, Jesus tries to get away to “a solitary place” (14:13). John was not only a relative of his, they were friends, and Jesus needs space to grieve the horrific death of this man of God. But the crowds want more of what Jesus has to offer; they want more of the show, and so they follow him, and that’s when he ends up teaching on a hillside and then feeding a crowd of 5,000 men plus women and children (14:21). So much for rest and healing from grief. After the crowd begins to disperse, Jesus “immediately” makes the disciples get in a boat; the text says he “compels” them to go. He makes them move in order to get away quickly (Barclay, The Gospel of Matthew, Volume 2, pg. 104). It’s kind of a strange reaction, and we have to flip over to John’s account to really find out why Jesus responds this way. John says that when the people realized what had happened on that hillside with the miraculous feeding, “they intended to come and make him king by force” (John 6:15). Who better to be a king than a miracle worker who can give you food, right? Jesus needs to get the disciples out of there, partly to protect them and partly to keep them from starting to think that the crowd’s idea is a good one. So he sends them off by boat and then he goes into the surrounding hills to pray alone (cf. Card, Matthew: The Gospel of Identity, pgs. 137-138).

I don’t know what time of night the boat launched, but as I’ve said before the Sea of Galilee is not that big. So they must have been taking their own sweet time crossing the lake because Matthew indicates that it’s what was known as “the fourth watch of the night,” sometime between 3:00 and 6:00 a.m., that the disciples find themselves struggling against a strong wind, a storm (cf. Keener, Matthew [IVP], pg. 256). Matthew says it was an “antagonistic” wind. Now, you can stand on any of the hillsides surrounding the Sea of Galilee and see much of the lake; one of my favorite places to picture Jesus is on top of Mount Arbel, just above the town of Magdala, where you can see practically the whole lake, certainly all of the northern end. But my point is Jesus could look down from wherever he’s praying and see the disciples’ boat. He is likely keeping an eye on them, and he undoubtedly knows when the storm starts. But Matthew (nor any of the other Gospel writers) doesn’t say he rushes in at the first sign of trouble or struggle. We don’t know exactly how long, but he apparently waits a while, because by the time he arrives they are fearful. These experienced fishermen are scared, which tells you that even though storms are common on this lake, this was a particularly bad one.

It’s no secret that most if not all of us would prefer Jesus to show up right at the beginning of the storms in our lives. Or, if would be even better if he would just take the storm away altogether. We don’t like storms; I don’t like storms. I prefer smooth sailing in my life. And today there are plenty of TV and internet preachers who will promise you that Jesus will only give you calm waters in your life. If you trust him you will never have any problems, any debt, any catastrophe in your life. I had a friend once who would always tell people she had never had anything bad happen to her. But I knew that wasn’t true, no matter how many times she said it. It’s a lie. The whole thing is a lie; it’s simply not true. If you’re alive, you’re going to encounter some storms. Some seem to last a long time. Some seem particularly violent. And some seem to come and go in a flash. But storms will come. If we’ve learned anything out of the past two years, it should be that: storms will come and they will often come with very little warning. So there are a couple of things from this story to notice. One, Jesus knows about the storm. He sees you. He is keeping his eye on you. He is not surprised by the storm, but he may let it rage for a while and his reasons are his own. But that leads to number two: he will not let your boat be swamped. It may be rough waters for a while, maybe even a long time, but he will come to you in the midst of the storm at just the right time. No, it may not seem to be “the right time” in our view, but remember that he has a bigger view, a higher purpose in mind. He sees more than we do, and what we believe is threatening our lives might just turn out to be something that shapes us for the good all the rest of our lives.

That was certainly true for Peter. Aside from Jesus, Peter is the most fully-formed character in the New Testament. We know more about him than anyone else, and we know Peter was impulsive. He often didn’t think before he acted. He’s a "ready, fire, aim” sort of person. But we also know his heart was almost always in the right place. He wanted to do the right thing. He didn’t always succeed at what he attempted, but he was determined. Most of all, he wants to please Jesus (cf. Barclay 106-107). So when he sees this shadowy figure coming toward the boat, and when the other disciples are convinced that it’s a ghost (because they believed the spirits of people who drowned stayed in the water to torment others; Witherington, OneBook: The Gospel of Matthew, pg. 66), Peter peers through the wind and the rain and sees someone else. When he hears the familiar voice, he knows who it is. Still, Peter wants proof, which is why he makes his request. “Lord, if it’s you, tell me to come to you on the water” (14:28). It’s kind of a funny request, because Jesus just told him, “It’s me.” Our translation says Jesus said, "It is I,” but the original text says, “I Am,” which is God’s name that he gave to Moses centuries before. “I am” (14:27, cf. Card 138) So, was there a moment of wind-whipped silence before Jesus responded? Did Jesus want to say to Peter, “Didn’t you hear me?” I don't know, but when Jesus did respond, the word was direct, authoritative and invitational: “Come” (14:29).

It’s the same invitation Jesus always gives. It’s the best invitation you can ever receive. In fact, our Bottom Line for today and for Day 2 of VBS is this: “Jesus invited people to follow him.” He stood by the Sea of Galilee and invited frustrated fishermen into a new life as disciples. He met a woman at a well and invited her into a relationship that would never fail her. He invited a tax collector, a wealthy man who had favor with the Romans, to leave it all behind, give it all up and become a disciple. In fact, that invitation is one of my favorite scenes from the first season of the television show The Chosen. Take a listen.

When we watched that, our LifeGroup cheered for Matthew. Jesus calls people to follow him, from all walks of life and in all sorts of places. Notice in this story that the decision to step out on the water does not really come from Peter; it comes from Jesus. Peter makes himself available, willing, but it is Jesus who commands. It is Jesus who invites. It is always Jesus who invites us to “come.” Peter seems to understand that if he has any hope of truly going where Jesus is, out onto the water, the initiative is going to have to come from Jesus. He can’t summon up the strength or the ability on his own; he has no strength or ability on his own. It can only happen because of Jesus (cf. Card 138).

Friends, Jesus still invites men and women to follow him, to come where he is, to be with him. Jesus still invites people into a life-changing relationship. Jesus still invites us to step out into a wild and wonderful world, out onto the water with him. I think I tell my story nearly every year about this time because it was through Vacation Bible School that I began to follow Jesus. That’s why I’ve always been passionate about VBS, why I see it as one of the most important things we do. I grew up in the church, had attended VBS every year, had sung the songs in Sunday School and in kids’ choir and in church worship services. I knew who Jesus was. I knew a lot about Jesus. But there in a basement classroom during the next-to-last day of VBS, there was something different in the way the story was being told and the invitation was being offered. Or, more probably, there was something difference in the way I heard it. My heart was open and something clicked in my brain and I knew like I had never known before that Jesus was inviting me to follow him. It wasn’t enough to know about him. It wasn’t enough to rely on the faith or the belief of my parents or my teachers or my friends. If I was going to truly be part of this community of faith called the church, I had to respond to Jesus’ invitation just like Peter did. When Jesus said, “Come,” I chose that day to follow. I stepped out on to the water. And it has not always been easy. Very often the storms come unexpectedly. Sometimes the storms seem out of control. Most of the time I have no way to make the storm stop by myself and I’ve had to listen hard to hear him say above the wind, “It is I. Don’t be afraid” (14:27). But I will tell you this: no matter what the storm is, no matter where we have gone together, he has never failed me yet. And he never will.

That’s not to say I’ve always walked confidently by his side. I’ve got way too much of Peter in me to say that. You know, part of what we forget about this story is that Peter actually did walk on water. He did what no one else has done (besides Jesus) before or since. He got out of the boat, in response to Jesus’ invitation, and he walked on the water. We don’t know how long he did it for, how many steps he took, but no matter if it was one step or twenty steps, he actually did it. He literally followed wherever Jesus called him to go, and that’s amazing. Really, isn’t that the kind of response to Jesus we all want to have? Too often, though, my response to Jesus is more like what happens next. Matthew describes it this way: “When [Peter] saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’” (14:30). Now, the usual lesson we get from this passage and the thing you’re probably expecting me to say next goes something like this: “When Peter took his eyes off Jesus, that’s when he began to sink. So keep your eyes on Jesus and you’ll walk on the water.” Right? End of sermon. Have you heard that before? I’m pretty sure I’ve preached that before, maybe even from this pulpit.

And that is true. There’s nothing untrue about any of that. Yes, he was afraid. Yes, he took his eyes off Jesus. Yes, he looked at the wind too much. Yes, he started to sink (and being a fisherman, he probably knew better than others just how far down he had to go). Yes, all of those things are true—and all of those things make sense. I mean, let’s be real here: he was walking on unfrozen water in the midst of an antagonistic wind, a storm! Of course he’s going to be afraid; I’d be freaking out. We can’t fault Peter for any of that. But here’s the other side of it, the part we often forget: he knew who to call out to when all of that happened. He didn’t try to swim back to the boat. He didn’t try to rescue himself. He didn’t try to swim to shore. He called out to his guide; it was his first and best impulse. Years ago, when I was much younger and stupider, I would take youth groups on whitewater rafting trips down the New River in West Virginia. I say “much stupider” because I can’t swim. And yet I was willing to hurtle myself in a polyurethane raft down through class 4 and 5 rapids, just thin material and some air between me and certain death. It was awesome and I never fell out of the boat because every time we went I did my best to listen very closely to the guide and to all the instructions they gave us ahead of time. I did what I was told as best as I could. My friend, Wayne, not so much. Early on in the trip, we hit a rock and Wayne got bumped out of the boat. Suddenly, he found himself in the water, looking for help. And pretty much everything the guide said not to do, Wayne did. “Don’t swim, just turn on your back and float." Wayne tried to swim. “Don’t stand up in the river.” Wayne got to a shallow place and stood up. And on it went. My favorite part of that story is that Wayne is probably twice the size of Cathy, and yet it was Cathy who pulled him (eventually) back into the boat. He was safe, but because he didn’t listen to the guide, he could have been hurt badly. Peter, on the other hand, listened to the guide, the Spirit within him, and rather than doing the things that probably would have seemed natural, he cried out to Jesus for rescue. “Lord, save me!” (14:30). And, Matthew says, “Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught [Peter]” (14:31). Peter knew where to look; he knew who could and would rescue him. Do we? Or do we, as I talked about a few weeks, ago, try to do it ourselves, try to grab onto the boat, try to swim to shore on our own?

The struggle is always between fear and faith, between the storm and the rescuing arms of Jesus. All throughout this story, the struggle is on display. The disciples are afraid when they see Jesus walking toward them because they think it’s a ghost, and Jesus tells them, “It’s me, don’t be afraid.” Peter’s afraid and Jesus catches him: “Why did you doubt?” What are the storms that threaten your boat? Financial storms, marital storms, other relationship storms? Maybe it’s an employment storm, or health storms, or just a general storm of anxiety that sneaks up on you at unexpected times. Sometimes you can’t even name it; you just find yourself in the midst of a storm and you don’t know what it is or how you got there. Maybe the storm clouds that are gathered all around the world, the conflicts and wars, the economy, the uncertainty, the fast pace of change—all of these things can feel like storms, many of which seem to have come up suddenly. Covid-19 was certainly a storm that, while we saw clouds gathering, none of us expected to crash on our shores so quickly and we certainly didn’t expect to still be dealing with it two years later. At the same time we’ve encountered racial justice storms, political storms, and denominational storms. I honestly think those last storms are some of the hardest to face, when people who are supposed to be your brothers and sisters in Christ end up causing what feels like a life-threatening storm in your life. All these storms. Many unexpected. And sometimes it feels like we’re sinking when we’re trying to walk through the storm. Is there any hope for a rescue? Again, the problem we have is that we try to solve the problems, calm the storm, walk through it, all on our own. But Peter’s story reminds us that it’s not our job to calm the storm. We don’t have that power anyway. I think that’s part of what the disciples are recognizing in the end of this story, after Jesus gets in the boat with them and the wind dies down. We are told that for the first time they worship Jesus. They say to him, “Truly you are the Son of God” (14:33). We can’t calm the storms. The only strength, the only ability we have is to call out to the only one who can calm the storms, the one who will get in the boat with us. “Lord, save me!” That is ours to do. Call out to Jesus. “Lord, save me! Save us!”

So let me ask this morning: have you called out to Jesus to rescue you? Is the storm continuing to frighten you because you haven’t invited Jesus into your boat? Beginning to follow Jesus is as easy as doing what Peter did. You say to him, “Lord, save me!” And he will. He will be right there with you. Have you invited Jesus into your boat? Or let me be more direct: have you asked him into your life? There is no better friend, and not just for what he can do for you. Jesus not only promises eternal life then; he gives meaning and purpose to our lives right here and right now. As the disciples recognized and confessed, he is the Son of God, and he wants to be with us, in our boat, riding with us through life. He keeps his eye on us and he will be there when we most need him. He’s always there, in fact, because we need him all the time. If you’ve never invited him to be in your life, I can’t encourage you enough to do that today. In fact, we’re going to move to prayer, and you can invite him in now. Let’s pray.