8th Sunday after Pentecost--Proper 14A

8th Sunday after Pentecost—Proper 14A
August 7, 2011
Jesus and Moses were out one day playing golf. They pull up to a hole in their cart, and they see that this hole had a water element. So Jesus pulls out his 5 iron and prepares to hit. Moses says, ‘I don’t know about that, Jesus. I think you should use your 4 iron here. Jesus replies, “No, I don’t think so, Moses. I’ve been watching a lot of Jack Nicklaus, and I think he’d use the 5 iron here.” Moses says, “Ok, Jesus, whatever you say.” So Jesus hits his ball with the 5 iron and it goes right into the water. Moses takes out his 4 iron and his ball sails over the water. So the two get into their cart and drive down to the water where Jesus is looking around for his ball. Not seeing it on the edge of the water, he proceeds to walk out across the water looking for his ball. Moses sits in the cart waiting when two other golfers drive up to him, and say, “Who does that guy think he is? Jesus?” Moses replies, “No, he thinks he’s Jack Nicklaus.” (I got that joke from Fred Hutchings, who got it from Bill Fellows. Any errors in its retelling are due to my own golfing ignorance).
Our gospel reading for today picks up immediately from where last week’s story of the Jesus’ feeding of the 5, 000 leaves off. And this story of Jesus walking on the water coming straight on the heels of the other is no accident in Matthew’s gospel. The writer of Matthew is drawing upon the identity of the people of Israel and we hear echoes of their stories of salvation in these stories of Jesus’s acts. In the feeding of the 5,000 we hear the echoes of God’s feeding of the children of Israel in the wilderness with manna, and in Jesus’s walking on water, we hear echoes of the salvation of the children of Israel through the parted waters of the Red Sea.
In Hebraic thought, water represents much more than a mere physical reality. It is unfathomable depths; it is the threat of darkness and chaos; it is the potential for drowning and the shadowy menace of the creatures that swim in its depths. For the children of Israel, water is that which is opposed to God’s order that is made manifest in creation and in the salvation of Israel. In the Old Testament, God is consistently triumphing over this chaos of water and trampling victoriously over that which seeks to drown out God’s purposes.
In our reading for today, Jesus has withdrawn to a deserted place by himself, but the crowds have followed him and found him. And so he heals their sick and then he has compassion on them and feeds them. Immediately after he feeds them, he sends everyone away, including the disciples, who he sends on ahead of him in the boat to the other side. And Jesus stays there on the mountain by himself to pray. Meanwhile, back in the boat, the disciples find themselves battered by the wind and the waves, and in the wee hours of the morning, they see Jesus walking toward them on the water. It’s not until this point in the story that these seasoned fishermen truly become afraid. They know wind and water and how to deal with it, but they have no idea what to do with this figure walking on the water. They think Jesus is a ghost, and they don’t seem to recognize them. He speaks to them, and says, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” (the Greek here can also be translated “I am”—the name that God gives to Moses.)
And this is the part that really captures my imagination. The disciples are all unified in their fear and are cowering in the boat. Peter is ostensibly just as afraid as the rest, and yet he asks Jesus to reveal himself to them by commanding Peter to get out of the boat to come to him. I wonder….What is it exactly that separates Peter from the others in their fear? What is it that prompts Peter to get out of the boat?
Just this past week, I read the November book club selection—The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein. It’s a great book about a family that goes through a lot together, and the entire story is narrated by a character named Enzo, who just happens to be the family dog. Enzo spends a lot of his free time watching racing on tv while his people are away, and he learns about racing from his owner, who is an aspiring race-car driver. Enzo’s owner, Denny, tells him that the secret to successful racing is found in the statement: “that which you manifest if before you.” Enzo spends some time wrestling with this notion and the concept that we manifest our own destiny, and then he translates it into meaning: “the car goes where the eyes go.” In racing, if a person loses concentration for one moment, if his eyes lose their focus, then the car can quickly and easily follow and it can mean the different between winning the race and crashing the car. The car goes where the eyes go.
That’s what got Peter out of the boat. That’s what made the difference between his fear and his faith. And that is why he faltered. When he got out of the boat, his eyes were on Jesus. When he walked those first timid steps across the water, his eyes were on Jesus. When he took his eyes off Jesus and became again aware of the wind and the waves and his own fear, he began to falter and to sink. And Jesus reached out his hand to him, called Peter’s eyes and his heart back to Jesus, and he walked back to the boat with him. “The car goes where the eyes go”.
All of us experience fear. The fear of the chaos of the world around us, the darkness of the hearts of people who live in this world with us, our nation drowning under our over-spending and our debt and our political gridlocks and power plays. The fear of not having enough. The fear of not being able to take care of ourselves as we age, not being able to take care of those who depend upon us. The fear of all the bad things lurking out in the world that might happen to us or to the people whom we love…. (Friday GMA report on how Dow plummeted 500 points, average 401K has lost $12,000—anchor must have said the word “fear” 12 times in 2 minutes).
Fear is rampant. What separates us, like Peter, from those who are paralyzed by their fears? What gets us out of bed early on a Sunday morning to gather here together in this boat amidst the storms of our lives? “The car goes where the eyes go”. We can overcome our fears when our eyes are fixed upon Jesus.
What does that mean for our eyes to be fixed upon Jesus? Living our lives, making our decisions based in hope, not in fear. Living our lives with the belief that the abundance of the kingdom of God is a reality and that the scarcity of the world is an illusion grounded in fear. It means being rooted in the peace and stability of God, who is I AM, and not being tossed here and yon by the fads and fears of others. It means treating all people with care and concern and respect, as fellow children of God, and not as tools to be used for our own agendas or devices. It means offering all of these things, hope, abundance, care, peace, good news, and love to all whom we encounter.
And when fear does get the better of us, which it may from time to time, Jesus is standing nearby with his hand outstretched, offering us grace and peace, and pulling us out of the waters that threaten to claim us, and helping us to remember. When we keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, then Jesus becomes for us a window to God—who says, “Take heart. I am. Do not be afraid.”