Walking on Water - a Sermon

Readings:

1 Kings 19:9-18, &  Matthew 14:22-33

The picture of Jesus walking on the water is Iconic.

It is perhaps one of the most familiar images for us as Christians. It is also one of the few biblical narratives, or bible stories, that is still part of our culture, and known to people who don’t regularly come to church.

Perhaps it is the “otherness” of the story.

The fact that it is so unbelievable, so counter intuitive, and so contrary to the way we understand how the world works, that adds to the story’s popularity. This ‘fantastic’ element is found within all of the Nature Miracles, those miracles in which Jesus demonstrates His control over nature. Jesus walking on water; Jesus calming the storm; Jesus multiplying bread and fish to feed the multitudes. These events strike us as impossible, because they run so contrary to our experience of life, and our environment.

It would have been no less so for the disciples!

Sceptics often make the error of attributing these stories to the ignorance, or naiveté, of the apostles. The sceptic will say “these things can’t happen!” and assume therefore, that to have written about such things, the apostles simply must have misunderstood the laws of nature. 

Make no mistake here, although they did not understand the “mechanics” as we do, although they didn't have sophisticated scientific method to record their observation, they did know how the world worked. They did know what things could, and couldn't happen. If anything, I would say they had a greater understanding (if more basic) than we do, simply because they spent more time in nature.

These were fishermen; they knew people could not walk on water.

I'm not sure there is a people, or occupational group, in the world who would know this fact better than them. I'm certain that they knew more about the tides and waves than I will ever know. It would be preposterous to think, absolutely arrogant to think, that these people were confused by the event – somehow thinking people could walk on water.

We even know from the scripture itself that they couldn't believe it at first: Verse 26 says:

“And when the disciples saw Him walking on the sea, they were troubled, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out for fear.”

A ghost. They thought it was a ghost. They thought a man walking on water would be so impossible, so unlikely, that their first thought was a ghost.  They knew men cannot walk on water. Further to this, after Jesus calls to them, calming them, they still do not think it can be – and they challenge him, verse 28:

“ And Peter answered Him and said, “Lord, if it is You, command me to come to You on the water.”

Jesus, in his compassion, complies.

He takes Peter with him onto the water, with the waves billowing around them, they walk. Peter had taken a huge leap of faith, taking those few steps from the boat – My mind wanders to the moon landing, and those famous words “one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind” –  This was indeed a huge leap for man, but unable to escape his surroundings, Peter cannot yet appreciate it.

You see, Peter cannot yet let go of his doubts, his fears, his presuppositions, his anxiety and he begins to doubt. Sinking into the water. Sinking into despair. Sinking into mistrust. Sinking. Jesus reaches out, grabs his arm, and helps him. Peter finally now begins to see him, to really see Him, for the first time.

There had been a lot of miracles so far, but nothing like this. Because men cannot walk on water. Peter is struggling for words to express his thoughts, his instincts, perhaps this frustration contributed to his doubts, his confusion. Because men cannot walk on water.

They climbed back into the boat; and everything had changed. Because men cannot walk on water. Peter knew that. And as he staggered, hands and knees, into the boat he remained face-down, his knees bent – I imagine his companions fell to theirs. Because, men do not walk on water.

I doubt at this point they understood, I doubt they knew for sure, I expect all they knew was that they had to do something – and there was only one thing that could be done -  they worshipped him.

Men do not walk on water. They knew this. And so everything had changed. The words came, I’m sure, after a moment of stunned silence that must have felt like eternity “Truly You are the Son of God.”

It must have been a mumble at first. You see, these words are no ordinary words; this was no ordinary act. On shore, back at home, these words could have cost them their life. Stoned to death for blasphemy. Talking about God in this way, talking about a man in this way. For most of the men on that boat, these words would cost them their life; even today, these words continue to cost men their lives, we think of Northern Iraq where ISIS have been committing the worst kinds of atrocities, filled with hate, and terrible anger. These words are important, they are, with no exaggeration, a matter of life and death; these words are a matter of Eternal life or Death. “Truly You are the Son of God.” We continue to use these words about Jesus, because, understand this: men do not walk on water.

What does this mean, and what are the apostles saying?

There is much conjecture among fans of Dan Brown, author of the DaVinci code, at what point the church started calling Jesus God, whether it was when the Nicene Creed was written, or when the church fixed the bible… these conversations make me laugh. It is there as clear as day, before your very eyes in the text, men do not walk on water.

Jesus is God.

There, I said it.

God revealed himself to the apostles there, on that stormy sea; on that windy night. God showed them His Face; and the face of God, the immortal one, the ancient of days, the all-powerful, and unchangeable God of all creation looked upon them with Jesus’ eyes of compassion, and the voice that commanded all of creation into being spoke to them saying “why did you doubt?”.

“why did you doubt”.

This isn’t a phrase that calls condemnation down upon the apostles as they knelt there, mouths ajar in awe. It was a phrase that stirred them, lifted them, and encouraged them to put their trust in Him, the Son of God.

God revealed Himself to the aspostles that day, just as he had done to Elijah 900 years before.

The stories resonate with a striking similarity: Verse 11 from the reading from Kings:

Then He said, “Go out, and stand on the mountain before the Lord.” And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind;
 and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; 12 and after the earthquake a fire,but the Lord was not in the fire; and
after the fire a still small voice.13 So it was, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood in the entrance of the cave. Suddenly a voice came to him, and said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”

First there is the wind, the storm, the raging nature – Elijah’s story tells us of the wind so strong it broke the rocks; our gospel reading tells us the wind lashed up billowing waves,  that tossed the boat to and fro.

God doesn’t choose to reveal himself through the storm

Then comes the fear; earthquake and fire in the Old Testament reading, fire that is unpredictable, and conjures up thoughts of the supernatural; the New Testament reading has a spoken fear “a ghost!” they cry, fearful of the dangerous and unpredictable spirit world.

God doesn’t chose to reveal himself through the fear.

Finally, verse 12 from Elijah’s story said there was a “still small voice” calling to the prophet; the same voice called from the lips of Jesus to the disciples that night on the sea. That voice still calls to us today.

Amen

Priestly Robes:

Given that I have now been selected to study for the priesthood, I thought we could revisit this post, from 2011, where I explored what it means to be a priest in the evangelical tradition. I had almost forgotten how much of an evo I am!

I often find organised religion slightly ridiculous.

Not quite so ridiculous as other strands of religion mind you, but my point still stands.

Christianity walks a perilous path between the two. Organised chaos is our aim. And that's what happens when you have a Priesthood of all believers, yet still have an ordained order of priests.
Much of the theological ink spilled over this matter was wasted on misunderstandings of some simple Bible stuff. A good friend of mine once taught me 'understand the bible by reading the bible:

In the New Testament we have two Greek words, which have both come to be translated  'Priest', in my beloved, but often misleading English.

ἱερεύς - hiereus meaning "sacred one". These are the Old-testament-sacrifice-offering-blood-and-guts-and-gore guys. They were a select few, as with most religions, held to be in some way especially sacred. They were almost a race within the Jewish race. All being patrilinial descendants of Moses' mate Aaron.

πρεσβύτερος - presbyteros meaning "one with elderhood". Here is where we get our word priest from, and it has nothing to do with sacrifices.

#facepalm

It's a pastoral role, about replicating the Apostles' love for the brethren, and their flair for administration... maybe.

The confusion has crept in with the doctrine that at Communion the priest offers it as a sacrifice. This is a doctrine I am uncomfortable with, but mostly because it re-restricts the use of hiereus. The bible, IMHO, calls us all to live a life of sacrifice. Christianity, for me, turned the old religious system upside-down; ushering us all into the the life of the sacred ones. Christ in us makes us all sacred. In that sense, in the sense that we offer a sacrifice, pleasing and acceptable to God - we are all priests, through Christ.

Though we don't get to kill animals.

Unless you're my dad, but that's an entirely different story.

We are not however all priests, in the presbyteros sense of the word; that is, in the actual sense of the word. Our ordained priesthood has a very specific role, and it involves being sacred ones every day - even when they don't feel like it. Even when they demonstrably haven't acted like it. And raising as many people as they meet into a position where they too can become sacred ones.Don't get me wrong though. Although, I don't think Communion should be confused or conflated with Christ's actual, historical sacrifice - I am by no means a full blown protestant.

Our priesthood is about raising people to meet Jesus. And how do they [priests] do that?

Primarily, it's about making God real to people, and this is done through:

Communion.
Baptism.

but also through confirmation, holy orders, marriage, reconciliation, extreme unction... and actually any number of ways that God's grace is conveyed into people's lives through ordinary and physical means.

How  I long to join them.

NB - This post must send a Hat Tip over to http://www.liturgy.co.nz/blog/priest-altar/1950