Get out of the boat!
It is only right and proper to declare up front that I did not come up with the title for this sermon, nor the scripture passage upon which it is based. That is a serendipitous gift from Bob Naylor. Many weeks ago I was talking to Bob on the phone about the plans for the upcoming co-pastorate, which will start on January 1, 2015.
In the course of that conversation, Bob happened to mention a church with which he is currently working as a congregational consultant. By chance I was familiar with that church, because I have walked past it several times through the years. It is located in a famous town on Cape Cod. For thirty years we owned a time-share on Nantucket Island, and we would go to that town to take the ferry across Nantucket Sound to Nantucket, and often we walked downtown while waiting for the boat to come.
Bob has been attempting to assist that church to prepare for a different future from the glorious past it has known. Now it is a congregation of mostly old people (does that have a familiar ring to it?), and they are trying to decide what they need to do to re-direct and resurrect themselves. Bob told me that he preached a sermon for them using our story from Matthew’s Gospel, focusing on my conscripted text.
The account of Jesus walking on water is problematic for the kind of people who are skeptical of anything that runs counter to ordinary experience, or which seems to contradict the laws of nature. A human being walking on the surface of the Sea of Galilee is a good example.
I deliberately also chose the episode prior to the water-walking incident, because it too applies to the idea behind this sermon. It is the story of the feeding of the five thousand.
Matthew’s account of this remarkable event begins with a verse which I think is filled with a certain kind of pathos. Immediately prior to that, Jesus had been told that John the Baptist had been beheaded by the king in charge of the region of the Galilee, Herod Antipas. It was the Middle East after all, wasn’t it? This news was very upsetting to Jesus, because he greatly admired the ministry of John, and he himself had been baptized by John. Further, of course, John the Baptist was Jesus’ cousin. That having explained, here is what Matthew adds: “Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there to a lonely place apart. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns” (Matt. 14:13).
I wonder if Jesus was by nature an introvert. I never thought about that until now. Is it scandalous to ask such a question about the Son of God and the Messiah? I don’t mean to provoke a controversy. But frequently the Gospels tell us that when Jesus had been enervated by so much contact with so many people, he withdrew to be by himself and in closer personal contact with God. If Bill Clinton were the Messiah (which many people of many political persuasions would find impossible to imagine), do you suppose he, President No. 42, would go off by himself to be re-energized? People are energy-producers for extroverts, like Mr. Clinton, but they are energy-depleters for introverts.
But let us move on. When the people heard that Jesus had gone off by himself, they followed him. And, as always, Matthew says, “he had compassion on them, and healed them.” Then, because few of them had thought to bring food with them into the wilderness, Jesus performed the miracle of the feeding of the five thousand.
But how, exactly, did that happen? I don’t know specifically, but I do know this: The disciples concluded that everyone had to go back home to get something to eat. That was the only solution they could think of for a pressing problem. Instead Jesus told them to give him whatever food they could collect from the crowd. That amounted, the text says, to five loaves of bread and two fish. Jesus took that and fed everyone, all five thousand of them. With just five loaves of bread and two fish? Were they five-hundred-pound loaves? And were the two fish giant yellow-fin tuna pulled from the Atlantic Ocean? I don’t think so. I think when the disciples started giving out tiny pieces of bread and fish to everyone, other people, who had not turned in their food, gave it to Jesus. Eventually there was enough. Not much, to be sure; in fact, very little, but enough. It was an exercise inspired by Jesus in mass sharing. On the other hand, it might have been a miracle, pure and simple. Though it might have been pure, it was anything but simple.
The point is this: Unless some people contributed the food they had, there was not going to be any food for everyone. The feeding of the five thousand could not have happened unless many people did something to make it happen. (Actually Matthew explicitly notes that it was “five thousand men, besides women and children.”) The extraordinary nature of the event grows with each passing verse. Jesus did not create an enormous food pantry out of thin air. It started with the generosity of a small number of kind people who were willing to share what they had, as meager as it was, until others also contributed, and eventually everyone was fed.
If Jesus was to do miraculous things, as often as not, it required the assistance and acquiescence and affirmation of other people around him. If God is to accomplish great things among us, it may also and probably will require us. Great events do not occur in a vacuum. They need certain human factors united with them to allow them to happen.
This is especially true of the water-walking story. Matthew begins the narrative with this verse: “Then Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go before him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds” (Mt. 14:22). Jesus still felt he needed to get away from people to meditate on the death of John the Baptist, so he told the disciples to get into their fishing boat and go to the other side of the lake, which we later learn was the east side of the Sea of Galilee, at a place called Gennesaret. Jesus still needed some quiet time to himself, so he sent the twelve on their way, and then he sent the crowds home. Then he went into the hills by himself to pray.
And then --- and then --- he walked on water. This story is one that causes eruptions of heartburn among multitudes of Christians, and not a few New Testament scholars. You probably want me to comment on whether it happened, or if it did, what it means, but I’m not going to say anything in particular about that part of the story in particular. We deduce from Matthew that Jesus saw the boat out on the lake, and it was being severely tossed by large waves and high winds. So, because the disciples could not go to Jesus, Jesus went to the disciples.
In recording this incident, Mark gives a uniquely fascinating aside. He too says that Jesus was aware of the struggles the disciples were having against the wind and waves, and he began walking on the water out toward them. However, Mark writes that Jesus “came to them, walking on the sea. He meant to pass by them” (my italics), “but when they saw him walking on the sea they thought it was a ghost, and they cried out” (Mk. 6:48-49).
What a strange observation! Why would Jesus mean to pass by his disciples in their hour of distress? They were in danger of drowning! Didn’t he know that? Did he still need to be by himself, even if he was walking on water, which is not an ordinary thing to do under any circumstances, but he knew that his closest friends were in deep trouble, both literally and figuratively? Why was Jesus walking on water in the first place? Surely not to show off! Surely not to illustrate that he had divine power! Why?
I can only deduce that he wanted to do for the disciples what he had done for the 5000+ only a few hours before; he wanted them to understand that when they were in difficulty, they could not get out of it merely by waiting for Jesus or God to perform a miracle. They had to do something about their dilemma themselves, or they might never get out of it. The hungry people shared their food, and now the disciples had to act.
It should come as no surprise that Peter, the most impulsive of the twelve, was the first to spring into action. “Lord,” he said to Jesus, “if it is you, bid me come to you on the water.” Understandably, Peter thought his eyes might be playing tricks on him. But if it truly was Jesus, Peter was willing to step out onto the stormy lake, trusting that Jesus would somehow help him and the others. So when Jesus encouraged him, Peter immediately stepped out of the boat.
How typical of the Big Fisherman! For a few tentative steps on the surging surface, he struggled forward on the crest of the waves. But then, seeing how strong the wind was and how high the waves were, he began to sink. As it says in the hymn, Make me a captive, Lord, “I sink in life’s alarms/ When by myself I stand/ Imprison me within Thine arms,/ And strong shall be my hand.”
But here’s the thing about Peter: At least he tried! He did what Jesus asked of him! He got out of the boat! His decision was pivotal to making this event memorable. He knew that if he was going to take this unprecedented leap of faith, he had to leave the relative safety of the boat and step out onto the raging waters. The story says that he stayed on top of the swirling whitecaps for a few fitful steps, and then he began to sink. Jesus reached out and grasped his flailing arm. And then the wind immediately ceased, and the waves subsided.
Was it a miracle? People have been known to walk across white hot coals in their bare feet without getting scorched feet, but to my knowledge no one has ever walked across the surface of a lake or pond, especially in a very stiff wind. If it were to happen, however, it would require courage on the part of anyone who tried it. Not even Jesus could make such a singular incident occur without the willing participation of some particular brave soul.
“O man of little faith,” Jesus said to Peter,” why did you doubt?” But Peter did get out of the boat, didn’t he? And the others stayed in, holding onto the gunwales for dear life.
Maybe the miracle for Peter is that he willingly risked what Jesus asked of him. Maybe he is most to be commended for his bravery in attempting what looked to everyone else and perhaps even to Peter himself like a foolhardy action. But it was Jesus who urged him on, and to Peter, that put it into an entirely unique category. He believed Jesus would never lure him into foolishly losing his life for no purpose, and least of all for testing the laws of nature to no good end. This was a test of faith, and not essentially a test of whether an ordinary man could walk on water.
For centuries the churches of Germany, both Catholic and Protestant, have received tax funds paid to the state by members of the churches. An average of about $1600 is withheld from every worker’s income, and then it is transferred to the denomination or congregation they designate. People who do not claim church membership don’t pay the tax, but those who do, do. Strangely, millions of them go into the church buildings only to be baptized, married, or buried, but they still feel an obligation to support the work of the church. This system is either incomprehensible to Americans or is politically and ecclesiastically anathema, but it has been the German pattern for many generations.
In the compromised economy of the past few years, several million German Christians have elected to drop their official church membership in order to have a little extra money for tight times. The churches are doing all they can to reverse this process in a kind of reverse strategy from that of Jesus and Peter on the storm Sea of Galilee. Instead of saying, “Get out of the boat!”, they are saying “Stay in the boat!” But either way, only they can determine what shall happen. Neither Jesus nor God can make their decision for them. It is they who must decide.
In a month and a half, The Chapel Without Walls shall enter into a new and uncharted phase of our existence. Instead of having me as the primary preacher and pastor almost every Sunday of every year, we will have four ministers who together will be the pastoral team to provide leadership for our congregation. One is a Methodist, one is a Lutheran, one is a minister of the United Church Christ, and one is a Presbyterian. Each of these clergy has been associated with The Chapel for varying lengths of time, but they are willing together to continue to keep our small but vibrant congregation going as a unique church in our community, and for everyone who has ever been affiliated in any way with The Chapel.
Shall it be smooth sailing, or shall we face rough seas? Realistically there probably shall be some of both. But what we have been used to doing we can no longer do. To prepare for our new type of voyage, we must all get out of the boat, rearrange things, and then get back in. We must trust that God shall lead us in this new venture, and that the Captain of our Souls is with us in the transition. God will certainly guide us, but only we are the ones who can make this new venture a success.
After Peter got out of the boat and tried to do what Jesus beckoned him to do, the waves subsided, and the lake became calm. But it happened only after he got out of the boat.
Whether it was a large crowd who came to hear Jesus but only some of them made provisions for eating, or it was Jesus’ closest friends who looked to the Big Fisherman to take matters unto himself to save them from drowning, they all realized a bold new action was necessary to enable them to move beyond what looked like a potential disaster.
So what is the course that God and Jesus Christ are urging on us who have the pleasure and privilege of being associated with The Chapel Without Walls? The answer to their situation and to many similar life situations can be summarized in just five one-syllable words: “Get Out Of The Boat!”