Text: Matthew 14:22-33 12 Pentecost

A “Little-Faith” Building Exercise

Dear friends in Christ: This morning’s well known Gospel reading is the episode that lies behind the often heard expression, “he walks on water.” It’s a phrase we sometimes use to describe someone who just can’t seem to do anything wrong. You know the type: they are talented, good-looking, friendly, and everything they do turns out to be a success. They are the kind of people we would all like to be, and of whom we are, perhaps, secretly envious. On the other hand, we might use the expression to describe someone’s assessment of another person – like that guy at work whom you know to be a lazy bum, but as far as the boss is concerned, “he walks on water” – so he always gets the credit and you always get the blame. Or we might even use the expression to describe someone’s over-inflated ego and high opinion of himself, as in: “he thinks he walks on water.”

No matter how we use the expression, the idea we are attempting to convey by it has something to do with a person’s behavior. When we say, “he walks on water”, we are saying that from at least someone’s point of view, the person of whom we speak is a model of moral perfection. And really, that’s kind of strange, because if the walking on water episode teaches us anything at all it’s that it’s faith, and not moral perfection, which allows Jesus – or anyone else – to walk on the surface of the sea. In the story, walking on water has nothing to do with how well someone behaves. We learn instead what extraordinary things can be accomplished simply by trusting in Jesus. Faith in Christ allows an individual to rise above the natural and physical constraints that govern the world we live in. The indication is that the more firmly you believe, the less you will be effected by adverse circumstances and the raging storms of life.

And Jesus wants us to have that kind of firm faith – which is why he gives us all faith-building exercises to challenge and strengthen the trust we have in him. Really, that’s what this story is all about, even from the very beginning of it. You’ll note that in the lesson, Jesus actually commands his disciples to get into the boat. It’s a set up; sort of a classroom exercise. He knows exactly what’s coming. He knows what he wants the disciples to learn, and he knows how this experience will help shape and build their faith.

You might ask, “But don’t the disciples already have faith?” Sure they do. But it’s a weak and immature faith that they have. It’s not nearly the kind of faith they will need to get them through the battles that lie ahead. In fact, I suspect one of the reasons Jesus had to command his disciples to get into the boat was that they didn’t want to go. It will be helpful to remember that this event takes place on the evening of the day that Jesus fed the 5000. There’s a huge crowd of happy, satisfied people who are sitting around rubbing their full stomachs and talking about making Jesus their king. From the disciples’ perspective, that must have sounded pretty good. Kick back, take it easy, and be a senior administrator in the kingdom of the Messiah – where bread appears as if by magic and everyone’s happy, healthy, and whole. To them it must seem that a life of comfort and ease is just around the corner. They are exactly where they want to be, and they like they way things are shaping up.

But with such visions of glory and ease dancing through their heads, Jesus tells them it’s time to move on, without him, to the other side of the lake. They must have been pretty disappointed. And now, only nine hours later, they find themselves in absolute misery. They are wet, cold, and fighting to control their boat in a furious storm. Their muscles ache from pulling the sweeps against the hard wind and waves all night long. Their hands are blistered and bleeding. And they are still only about half way across the ten-mile wide lake. But the intensity of the storm keeps increasing, and soon they begin to fear for their lives. The boat is coming apart from the violence of the crashing waves. Water is streaming in from leaks between the planks, from the heavy rain, and from the splash of the waves over the gunwales. The disciples are bailing like mad. Their cries of panic like their shouted orders are scarcely audible above the howling wind. And just when it seems it can get no worse, these superstitious mariners are terrified by the appearance of human form mysteriously walking on the surface of the deep and heading right for them. It must have seemed that the angel of death was pursuing them – only confirming their worse fears: that the boat was about to be lost with all hands.

But bear in mind that Jesus intentionally put them in this situation. It was not to punish them; it was to help them grow. It was to shatter their false ideas about the Christian life: that it wasn’t going to be an easy experience. It was to help prepare them to stand firm in the face of the crosses they would one day bear. They weren’t going to learn to have that kind of faith just sitting on the shore.

The other thing to remember is that they were never in any real danger. There was never a moment in which Jesus was not in complete control. He was always watching and protecting; and when the disciples became desperate, he made his presence known: “It’s me. Relax. Be of good cheer. You’ve got nothing to be afraid of.”

They are such simple ideas. And every one of us knows that they’re true. So why are they so hard to believe? Not just for disciples in a boat on the Sea of Galilee, but also for us today. Our situation and theirs is really the same. Just as Christ ascended the mountain alone to pray and sent the disciples on ahead, so he ascended into heaven to intercede for us and has sent us on ahead in the ship we call the church. Our goal is to cross over to the other side. And as we go we struggle against the various storms that have come down through the ages; storms meant to test and strengthen our trust in him.

And here we run into a strange paradox: on one hand, we’ve got a tremendous amount of work to do. For the disciples it took constant vigilance and straining muscles to keep the bow into the wind. They couldn’t take their take hands off the tiller or the oars even for a moment. They had to bail out water continuously. Likewise, today in the church we are constantly working against hostile elements. The church fights to keep on course against its enemies from without, against weariness, flagging faith, and false doctrines from within, and against the dangerous winds of popular culture. On top of all that, situations and tragedies of all kinds threaten to sink the ship – and so it takes continuous effort to keep it afloat.

But the other side of the paradox is that there is never a time when things are not completely in the hands of the Lord. No matter how bad it gets, the ship is never in any real danger of sinking. Because all the while Jesus has been watching, guiding, and protecting. He knows our limits – and to help us grow, sometimes he pushes us to them; but he will never let us drown.

Just as he defied our natural laws of physical time and space to come to his disciples in their time of need, so he does today. In fact, we find him first in the same place the disciples did: standing on the water. I’m referring to Baptism, of course: in the water and the Word is when we first heard his voice say, “I’m here. Don’t be afraid.” In a similar way, we hear his voice whenever his words of comfort are proclaimed; and we are rescued by him when comes to us miraculously in his Supper. That’s where we receive his salvation. That’s where he says to us, “See, you have nothing to fear: I died to save you from everything that might harm you.”

His goal is to get us to trust him absolutely for all things, physical and spiritual. Like Peter, we all have a little faith. Christ is working on giving us still more to drive away our fears, to keep us from despair ... to keep from letting the circumstances around us deceive us into believing that God is not going to keep his promises. That kind of faith is a powerful tool for accomplishing God’s will on earth. What’s his will? Simply that we trust in him, and share our faith with those who do not so that they too can come to the joy of his salvation.

And so, as difficult as the storms are, we don’t shy away from them. Sure, at some level we’d all prefer to remain on the shore, or have nothing but smooth sailing – and we thank God for the periods of rest and recovery he grants us. But we know it’s in the storms that the faith we need is being made complete. So, despite the discomfort, we thank God also for difficult times.

Christ wants us to have more than just a little faith. And we want it too because, unless the boat gets across the lake first, there will come a day when Christ will call each one of us individually out of the boat. In the hour of death you’ll step out on the surface of a surging, dark sea where you’ve never walked before. That could be a very frightening experience. Then, you will not want to focus on the towering waves and howling wind; but you’ll want to keep your eyes on Jesus and confidently walk towards him. And if, in a moment of weakness or fear your faith falters, if you become distracted and start to sink, you have only to utter the prayer of Peter, which itself is the simplest and deepest expression of faith: “Lord, save me.” And reaching out for you with his own mighty hand, he will. Amen.

Soli Deo Gloria!

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