Reading: Matthew 14:22-33
Jesus and his disciples have had quite a whirlwind of a time. Having heard that King Herod has had John the Baptist beheaded on a whim at a palace party for Herod’s birthday, Jesus has tried to get away by boat to the far side of the lake for some time to himself.
A crowd of thousands has followed him, though, and after spending the day healing them, Jesus has had the disciples feed them with just a few loaves and fishes.
Now, Jesus is finally going off to a nearby hillside to pray and he tells the disciples to get into the boat, and go back to the other side. They’re probably not happy about going back into Herod’s territory, but Jesus insists. His whole purpose is to come and to dwell in the land of deep darkness, in the world as it is.
We read the story of their journey, as it’s told in The Gospel of Matthew. As we listen, we recall that the boat the sets sail across the water of the world, with the disciples inside it, is an image of the church in mission in the world.
Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd. After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. Later that night, he was there alone, and the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against them.
Shortly before dawn Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost,” they said, and cried out in fear.
But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take heart! It is I. Do not be afraid.”
“Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.”
“Come,” he said.
Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!”
Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?”
And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”
Reflection
Life is not always smooth sailing. Often, as in the story today, the wind is against us. And the far shore where we are headed seems a long way off.
There’s an old Breton fisherman’s prayer that simply says, “Lord, the sea is so big, and my boat is so small.” And how many hymns start with words like “when upon life’s billows, you are tempest-tossed”? Or have as their second line, “when sorrows like sea billows roll”?
As in the story today, life can be daunting and frightening, unless and until we are able to see and be reminded that Jesus is with us. That he comes to us even – maybe, especially, in the storm. In the darkest part of the night. Across the very waves of the storm itself.
Her name was Norma. I didn’t know her, but others did. By some, because she was their minister. By others, because she was a colleague in ministry. By another – a 12-year-old girl, because Norma was her mother. And was dying of cancer in her early forties.
It was a return of a breast cancer she had suffered and had recovered from five years earlier. And this time it wasn’t going to go away. And wasn’t going to stop until it took her life.
It was a hard time for Norma and for those close to her. It tested their faith in God and the good will of God, and she was open about that.
She was also open about how the testing deepened her faith, when over and over at the darkest times she had a clear awareness of Jesus coming to her – as he came to the disciples in their time of storm, saying “Take heart. It is I. Do not be afraid.” And how with that, Norma knew deep and abiding peace in the midst of all that was happening.
Is that our experience as well? In times of stress and distress? That just when things are darkest, Jesus comes to us and says, “Take heart! It is I! Do not be afraid.”
Sometimes it takes a while to recognize Jesus as he really is and as he comes to us in a situation. In the story, the disciples at first think he is a ghost. Not surprising that their minds go that way. It was still just a day or two since they heard of John the Baptist being violently and senselessly beheaded by King Herod. A sudden pall has fallen over all the land. They are still in shock. How can they not fear that this figure walking towards them in the dead of night across the stormy waves, is most likely a ghost? Something or someone from the past, and now gone except to haunt them? Maybe even the ghost of Jesus, tracked down by Herod's men and killed while he was back on the hillside by himself -- and now, like John, nothing but a haunting memory of the Jesus they had known?
During Japhia’s time of progressive illness and dying, she went through a process of sorting out just who Jesus was for her at that time, and in what way at that point in her life he was coming to reassure her and give her peace.
The response of some around her was
to turn to Jesus the Healer. That was
the Jesus they knew for situations like hers, and they were convinced this was
the Jesus they needed to call upon.
Japhia had enough history of belief in that side of Jesus, that she
happily accepted their prayers and this way of expressing their love for
her. Until the absence of healing led to
even more turmoil about why it was not happening, and the memory of "that kind of Jesus" haunted rather than healed her.
Was something lacking in her faith? Was something wrong with her? Did God maybe not love her as much as others? Not have time for her in the face of greater need elsewhere in the world? Or was it all maybe a lie? Ultimately she came to see the prayers as a loving gesture, which she was happy to receive in that way, but ultimately not something to hang the hat of her own heart on.
For some time she also turned to Youtube videos of praise music that some recommended, and for a time found hope, inspiration and comfort in it. The promise of something wonderful and uplifting beyond our knowing and imagining. She also listened a lot to our CD’s of Ron Klusmeier’s music – songs of quiet, measured contemplation of the deep presence of God in the realities of life, in the ambiguities and shadows of real life as we know it.
In the end, beyond these various ways of knowing Jesus, her spirit finally settled in, to the exclusion of everything else, to a radio stream we found called “Gentle Praise,” which played without interruption all day and all night, quiet and gently creative instrumental versions of old hymns – the hymns she knew as a child, hymns we sometimes call old-fashioned, hymns that led her back into the simple faith in God and trust in Jesus that she knew as a child – except now also held together with an adult’s understanding of how hard and dark and un-simple life and the journey of our soul really is.
In this she found the face and the promise of Jesus coming to her at that point in her life. Not Jesus the Healer. Not Jesus who wanted to inspire her to heights of ecstasy. Not Jesus who would walk with her through the world as it i. But Jesus who would take her hand through the veil of death, and would receive her with open arms in heaven.
“Take heart,” this Jesus said to her. “It is I. Do not be afraid.” And the final hymn she heard, in fact, was by her choice Audrey Assad's a capella version of "It Is Well With My Soul."
Sometimes it really is bit of spiritual journey to know which Jesus – or what side of Jesus, is coming to be with us, and give us peace at a particular point in our life. And to be okay with knowing that the side of Jesus that makes sense to others where they are in their life, is not necessarily the way Jesus is coming to bless and save us where we are.
This is something I’ve learned from people I’ve come to know who are in different 12-Step groups – AA and other groups that offer a way of spiritual transformation for people who suffer addictions of various kinds. 12-Step spirituality talks simply about a Higher Power – a Power greater than ourselves to which we need to surrender control of our will and our lives, if we want to be well, be healthy, and know peace rather than the storms of self-will and insanity in our lives. And what is this “Higher Power?”
It might – and does, manifest itself in whatever way is helpful and accessible to each different person. For some, it is the program itself of 12 steps to be worked at. For others, the commitment to attend the weekly meetings. For others yet, their Higher Power might be their sponsor who helps them stay on track. For some, it might be just one thing – a mantra or a prayer they learn to say at critical moments. It’s whatever it takes to bring a moment of sanity into their insanity, and an experience of peace in the midst of their tormented lives.
And who’s to say these aren’t all different glimpses of God at work in their life, different ways that Jesus comes to them in the storm of their life, to lift them out of the turmoil they’re in, and help them back into the boat that’s on its way to the other side. And that from there, it grows. In the same way as the disciples of Jesus continually grew each step of their way into greater and clearer understanding and acceptance of who Jesus is in all his changing fulness.
This is good for us to recognize in the church. The boat in the story is an image of the church. It’s an image of the community of faith sent out by Jesus to sail the waters of the world, towards the other side. And often stuck in hard going, with the wind against us, and the far shore a long way off still, with less and less hope, and more and more doubt about ever really getting there.
We take for granted that Jesus is with us, and we are with him. But is this something we can take for granted?
In this story, Jesus is not in the boat with the disciples. And is this true also of us, more than we realize? Are we, like them, a lot of the time just sailing by our own wits and wiles? Relying on our skill sets and past experience to get us through. Doing over and over, what got us through storms in the past? And not really making much headway against the winds that are against us?
What good news, that Jesus comes to be with us – in the darkest part of the night, walking over the very waves of the storm that we’re in. Saying, “Take heart, It is I. Do not be afraid.”
Do we look up and look out enough to see him?
Do we take the time to see him as he really is now – in the present moment, not just as we remember, or fear, or want him to be?
And do we welcome him back into our boat, to help calm our hearts, still the storms that we feel, and help us get to the other side?
How do we do that? And do we do it?
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