Deep Water!
Sermon
SERMONS ON THE GOSPEL READINGS
Series I, Cycle A
I don't know anyone who's not in over his or her head today ... A plant manager struggling to make payroll in a down economy ... A parent of a rebellious teenager ... An elderly person trying to pay hospital bills out of his tiny pension checks ... A marriage trying to overcome adultery and trust again....
Modern life is a deep and stormy season that can swallow us whole. So thank God there's a Bible story just for us today!
Christ was tired. He'd been grieving over his cousin John the Baptizer's death. But as he sought to be alone, the crowds sought him more. He'd spent the time teaching and healing and feeding them. He is really fatigued. He sends his disciples packing.
They put to sea in the boat. Jesus goes up on the mountain to pray, to rest in the night's solitude. Somewhere in the wee hours of the morning, Christ seeks to regain the company of the twelve. And he does something totally unimaginable, yet so God-like. He walks out upon the billows. He literally walks on water.
Meanwhile, the apostles have had a rough sail. The wind had been against them all night, so they had been rowing hard for hours. Now they are wet, hungry, and bone-weary. That's when they spot Jesus.
"It's a ghost!" the sailors cry out. They are limp with fear.
Have you ever had a day like theirs? Eighteen hours, grabby crowds of the needy, sleeplessness, your transportation has broken down, you are wet and afraid because God seems more like a ghost than a savior. Or you received the worst possible diagnosis from the doctor. Or your telephone rings in the middle of the night and you hear your son's voice, "Mom, Dad, I've been in an accident...." Days like that come upon us with little warning and we are consumed with fear. It's dark and we have no idea of what to do next. How will we ever get through this?
That's when Jesus speaks, his word soothing across your rankled nerves, "Take heart, it is I; have no fear!"
Peter spoke first. As usual.
Remember, it was dark. The wind was howling, sea spray stinging his eyes. Only the voice of Jesus was at all clear. Still Peter's heart leapt within. And it was with a mixture of bravado and timidity that Peter blurted out, "Lord, if it is you, bid me come to you on the water!"
And Jesus said, "Come!"
The rest of the apostles have a white-knuckled vise grip on the gunnels of the boat. The storm, the waves, the dark, the wind, the uncertainty -- they're not about to move. And, as with the most of us, they are quite happy to stay in their comfort zone and watch as Peter makes his move.
Thank God for the Peter's among us. When life grows stormy, when we cannot see, when all is tired and wet and fearful and nobody knows what to do, usually God sends us a Peter.
These are those who can think outside the box. Those who haven't been told it can't be done. Their middle name is "Adventure!" And they can come to us from the unlikeliest of places. A word from a stranger who has no idea of what's going on in your life is a clear word to you from God. Or your young child sees you crying and, with a child-like faith, encourages you to ask God for help. Suddenly, what you need to do is clear ... just as it was for Peter.
So Peter stands up, puts a foot over the side, and steps out on the sea. His eyes are riveted upon Jesus. And he's doing it! He's actually doing it! He's walking on water! So it was, the text says, "He came to Jesus."
Indeed! There are times Christ bids us walk on water, to throw off the comfort zone of the familiar, to venture out onto the realm of the impossible. And unless we have the impulsive audacity of Peter, we'll never be qualified for church leadership of the visionary sort. That fundraising project, that city-wide evangelism venture, that impossible family situation -- those wet, windy, dark, fearful challenges keep us in the boat, keep us glued to our seats.
Yet Jesus says, "Come!"
So Peter did the impossible. He walked on water with Jesus.
But now, watch what happened. Peter looked down. He saw the waves. He heard the wind howl out of the darkness, and he began to sink. Screaming out to Jesus, "Lord, save me!" Jesus reached out to a beleaguered Peter with a sustaining hand.
I tell you, there is a powerful point made here, one we should never forget. For as long as Peter gazed at God and only glanced at the danger, he was sustained. But when he gazed at the waves and only glanced at Jesus, he sank.
Peter was not the only one who got his gazing and his glancing wrong. The Bible is filled with examples. The spies who went into the promised land came back and gave their reports: Ten of them said they had gazed at the inhabitants and they were like giants ... and that the Israelites were like grasshoppers by comparison. Two of the spies glanced at those same "giants" and gazed at God and said that the Israelites should go and take possession of the land.
David gazed at Bathsheba and gave God only a quick glance before he entered the darkest part of his life.
Ananias and Sapphira glanced at how others were giving their all to the early church and they gazed at how easy it would be for them to look good and cheat God.
The list goes on ... it's a matter of perspective and faith.
Is it not true for us? Jesus said there would come a day when "men's hearts would be weighed down with fear and foreboding of what is coming down upon the world." We read of crime statistics in the papers. We see the ugly snarl of humanity on the evening news. Friends disappoint us. Suddenly, we comprehend the world as a desperate sinking place.
I know there are times when I must abstain from television news, the papers, and magazines. They sometimes arrest my gaze and fill me with despair. So I eschew them for a period of time while I restore my faithful gaze at Jesus. If I don't so this, I sink into the world's miseries.
The answer to those times of despair and misery is to be very intentional in looking to God. Time spent in reading the Word, time spent in prayer and meditation, time spent with fellow believers ... all of these help us to keep our gaze where it ought to be. It is only when we look up to God that we seen any difference -- the sustaining hope of all nations. The One who is able. The One who sustains me.
Indeed! For those who tackle a cause, a work, a labor with God, so big, so impossible, so unthinkable, that it is doomed to failure unless God is in it, we must remember, it is only by God's strength that we can do what we do -- preach, convert, sustain, and grow the church.
That means less self-ego, more divine worship. Less looking to ourselves, more looking to Jesus. Less gazing at the world, more riveted faith in God.
When Jesus and Peter got back in the boat, the whole lot of them, the disciples, worshiped. "Truly you are the Son of God," they whispered.
And so may it ever be with us as we only glance at the impossible world, but gaze at our Savior, Christ, the Lord of all possibilities.
Stephen M. Crotts
Modern life is a deep and stormy season that can swallow us whole. So thank God there's a Bible story just for us today!
Christ was tired. He'd been grieving over his cousin John the Baptizer's death. But as he sought to be alone, the crowds sought him more. He'd spent the time teaching and healing and feeding them. He is really fatigued. He sends his disciples packing.
They put to sea in the boat. Jesus goes up on the mountain to pray, to rest in the night's solitude. Somewhere in the wee hours of the morning, Christ seeks to regain the company of the twelve. And he does something totally unimaginable, yet so God-like. He walks out upon the billows. He literally walks on water.
Meanwhile, the apostles have had a rough sail. The wind had been against them all night, so they had been rowing hard for hours. Now they are wet, hungry, and bone-weary. That's when they spot Jesus.
"It's a ghost!" the sailors cry out. They are limp with fear.
Have you ever had a day like theirs? Eighteen hours, grabby crowds of the needy, sleeplessness, your transportation has broken down, you are wet and afraid because God seems more like a ghost than a savior. Or you received the worst possible diagnosis from the doctor. Or your telephone rings in the middle of the night and you hear your son's voice, "Mom, Dad, I've been in an accident...." Days like that come upon us with little warning and we are consumed with fear. It's dark and we have no idea of what to do next. How will we ever get through this?
That's when Jesus speaks, his word soothing across your rankled nerves, "Take heart, it is I; have no fear!"
Peter spoke first. As usual.
Remember, it was dark. The wind was howling, sea spray stinging his eyes. Only the voice of Jesus was at all clear. Still Peter's heart leapt within. And it was with a mixture of bravado and timidity that Peter blurted out, "Lord, if it is you, bid me come to you on the water!"
And Jesus said, "Come!"
The rest of the apostles have a white-knuckled vise grip on the gunnels of the boat. The storm, the waves, the dark, the wind, the uncertainty -- they're not about to move. And, as with the most of us, they are quite happy to stay in their comfort zone and watch as Peter makes his move.
Thank God for the Peter's among us. When life grows stormy, when we cannot see, when all is tired and wet and fearful and nobody knows what to do, usually God sends us a Peter.
These are those who can think outside the box. Those who haven't been told it can't be done. Their middle name is "Adventure!" And they can come to us from the unlikeliest of places. A word from a stranger who has no idea of what's going on in your life is a clear word to you from God. Or your young child sees you crying and, with a child-like faith, encourages you to ask God for help. Suddenly, what you need to do is clear ... just as it was for Peter.
So Peter stands up, puts a foot over the side, and steps out on the sea. His eyes are riveted upon Jesus. And he's doing it! He's actually doing it! He's walking on water! So it was, the text says, "He came to Jesus."
Indeed! There are times Christ bids us walk on water, to throw off the comfort zone of the familiar, to venture out onto the realm of the impossible. And unless we have the impulsive audacity of Peter, we'll never be qualified for church leadership of the visionary sort. That fundraising project, that city-wide evangelism venture, that impossible family situation -- those wet, windy, dark, fearful challenges keep us in the boat, keep us glued to our seats.
Yet Jesus says, "Come!"
So Peter did the impossible. He walked on water with Jesus.
But now, watch what happened. Peter looked down. He saw the waves. He heard the wind howl out of the darkness, and he began to sink. Screaming out to Jesus, "Lord, save me!" Jesus reached out to a beleaguered Peter with a sustaining hand.
I tell you, there is a powerful point made here, one we should never forget. For as long as Peter gazed at God and only glanced at the danger, he was sustained. But when he gazed at the waves and only glanced at Jesus, he sank.
Peter was not the only one who got his gazing and his glancing wrong. The Bible is filled with examples. The spies who went into the promised land came back and gave their reports: Ten of them said they had gazed at the inhabitants and they were like giants ... and that the Israelites were like grasshoppers by comparison. Two of the spies glanced at those same "giants" and gazed at God and said that the Israelites should go and take possession of the land.
David gazed at Bathsheba and gave God only a quick glance before he entered the darkest part of his life.
Ananias and Sapphira glanced at how others were giving their all to the early church and they gazed at how easy it would be for them to look good and cheat God.
The list goes on ... it's a matter of perspective and faith.
Is it not true for us? Jesus said there would come a day when "men's hearts would be weighed down with fear and foreboding of what is coming down upon the world." We read of crime statistics in the papers. We see the ugly snarl of humanity on the evening news. Friends disappoint us. Suddenly, we comprehend the world as a desperate sinking place.
I know there are times when I must abstain from television news, the papers, and magazines. They sometimes arrest my gaze and fill me with despair. So I eschew them for a period of time while I restore my faithful gaze at Jesus. If I don't so this, I sink into the world's miseries.
The answer to those times of despair and misery is to be very intentional in looking to God. Time spent in reading the Word, time spent in prayer and meditation, time spent with fellow believers ... all of these help us to keep our gaze where it ought to be. It is only when we look up to God that we seen any difference -- the sustaining hope of all nations. The One who is able. The One who sustains me.
Indeed! For those who tackle a cause, a work, a labor with God, so big, so impossible, so unthinkable, that it is doomed to failure unless God is in it, we must remember, it is only by God's strength that we can do what we do -- preach, convert, sustain, and grow the church.
That means less self-ego, more divine worship. Less looking to ourselves, more looking to Jesus. Less gazing at the world, more riveted faith in God.
When Jesus and Peter got back in the boat, the whole lot of them, the disciples, worshiped. "Truly you are the Son of God," they whispered.
And so may it ever be with us as we only glance at the impossible world, but gaze at our Savior, Christ, the Lord of all possibilities.
Stephen M. Crotts
