August 13: Hope Floats

THE WORD IN THE GOSPEL: Matthew 14:22-33

Right then, Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go ahead to the other side of the lake while he dismissed the crowds. When he sent them away, he went up onto a mountain by himself to pray. Evening came and he was alone. Meanwhile, the boat, fighting a strong headwind, was being battered by the waves and was already far away from land. Very early in the morning he came to his disciples, walking on the lake. When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified and said, “It’s a ghost!” They were so frightened they screamed.

Just then Jesus spoke to them, “Be encouraged! It’s me. Don’t be afraid.”

Peter replied, “Lord, if it’s you, order me to come to you on the water.”

And Jesus said, “Come.”

Then Peter got out of the boat and was walking on the water toward Jesus. But when Peter saw the strong wind, he became frightened. As he began to sink, he shouted, “Lord, rescue me!”

Jesus immediately reached out and grabbed him, saying, “You man of weak faith! Why did you begin to have doubts?” When they got into the boat, the wind settled down.

Then those in the boat worshipped Jesus and said, “You must be God’s Son!”

THE MESSAGE   “Hope Floats”

Aren’t we lucky today? Our gospel reading is one of the most famous and beloved stories about Jesus. It’s a story that many people consider to be a defining moment in Jesus’ ministry: the time when he walked on water, rebuked the waves, and calmed the storm.

It’s the kind of story we like – the kind that makes for a good movie – it’s a story full of drama, with a touch of danger, lots of suspense, and, of course, a happy ending. 

At the beginning of this week, I had a pretty good idea of where I was going to go with this message. I was working with the idea of the storms we face in our lives, and I was planning to share a somewhat easy and comfortable message with you today. I was going to tell you that sometimes, in the midst of life’s storms, the power of God that we see in Jesus comes to us to bring calm and peace.

And I was going to tell you even at those times when it seems that God doesn’t calm the storm, God is still at work, calming us and giving us peace while the storms continue to rage around us.

I had a whole outline laid out for a nice, comforting, peaceful sermon.

But then things happened this week. Then we heard of escalating threats of war and of warnings being provided to the residents of Guam – warnings about what to do in case of a nuclear attack.

Then we saw pictures of a white supremacy rally, complete with marchers holding torches, walking through the streets of Charlottesville, Virginia, where authorities have called for a state of emergency.

Then came the horror. Then came yet another wave of a horrendous storm that has been rocking our country for hundreds of years now.

We have all been plunged back into the chaos. The chaos of racism and hatred and the belief that violence is an acceptable solution to whatever problems we humans face.

Suddenly, today’s gospel reading has taken on a whole new significance. The water. The storm. The boat. It all leads me in a different direction.

In several passages in the Bible, turbulent water symbolizes human chaos and represents those things we fear the most.

The stormy, turbulent, raging water of chaos isn’t confined to the story in the gospel. It isn’t confined to the Sea of Galilee some 2,000 years ago. It is here and now. And the people of Charlottesville, VA, the people of North and South Korea, the people of Guam, white people, black people, people of all nationalities  –  all of us are in that boat together, with the waves crashing over us, threatening to swamp the boat and drown us all.

This is the raging water, this is the human storm, this is the situation humanity finds itself in. We are in the midst of a huge storm and we are far out at sea. Wave after wave assault us. And we’re all in the boat together.

Why should we care so deeply about what’s happening as governments so easily lob threats of war against each other? Why should we be disturbed to our core by what’s happening in Charlottesville? Because hatred anywhere is an assault on the justice and peace of God’s kingdom. Because the belief that violence is acceptable is a denial of the Gospel that we are called to embody.

Seeking justice and peace means confronting the system of beliefs – the ideology of white supremacy or national superiority – that incubated the hatred that has been unleashed in recent days. Seeking justice and peace means taking action to proclaim that the chaotic waters of this storm must be transformed into the kind of justice that the prophet Amos says will roll down like an ever-flowing stream.

So what can we do, we who live hundreds of miles away from Charlottesville, we who have no power as nations threaten to annihilate each other?

It’s clear that, as followers of Jesus, we must do something.

The first thing is to not let our emotions and our fear control our response. In the gospel story, Jesus asks the disciples, “Why are you frightened? Don’t you have faith yet?”

This, I think, is the key to understanding this story.

Some people believe that doubt is the biggest threat to faith. But it’s not. Fear has the greatest potential to disrupt our faith and derail our faith journey. Fear is perhaps the one thing more than anything else that can keep us from following Jesus and becoming more like Jesus.

According to psychologists, fear acts on us in many unhealthy and even dangerous ways.

Living in fear is causes us to become narcissistic. When we’re caught up in fear, we divert our focus from others and bring it into ourselves. That is, fear draws our focus inward and leads us to ignore the impacts of our choices and our actions on others.

Fear also draws us into a victim mentality, in which we see ourselves as being unfairly taken advantage of or unfairly affected by other people or circumstances. When we’re fearful it is easier to view the world as being against us. We tend to look for things to go wrong and can feel very disempowered when they apparently do so.

When we are conditioned by fear, we tend to be more judgmental and critical of those people and situations we fear. If we fear something, we want to believe it is wrong or evil. Judgment then becomes the way we seeing everyone and everything outside of us.

Fear limits our world view and our ability to see new possibilities and the chance for transformation and new life.

Fear also leads us to prefer separation instead of unity, and it intensifies pain – physical, emotional, and spiritual pain.

Do you notice a trend here? Fear leads us to live and act in ways that are exactly contrary to the ways of Jesus. That’s why I believe that fear is a threat to our faith and to our ability to walk with Jesus.

It’s easy to see that it’s fear, in part, that drives nations to intimidate each other with threats of war. And it’s fear that drives certain people to rally under the violent and hateful banner of “white supremacy.” We could hear that fear clearly expressed when hundreds of white nationalists carrying torches chanted, “you will not replace us.”

When Jesus walked across the water to his disciples in the boat, he didn’t scold them for being afraid in the storm. Their fear wasn’t the problem. The problem was that they were allowing their fear to lead them into panic and despair.

We cannot let the things we fear lead us down that path. We need to respond to the storms that are swirling around us with calm, rational, informed actions.

Because fear can cause us to turn inward, and to focus primarily or only on our own personal safety and wellbeing. Fear makes us grip tightly to our own interests. Fear crushes any glimmer of hope that will keep us safe in the storm. Fear keeps us in the boat, even when we know Jesus is calling us to be encouraged, to have hope, and to get out of that darn boat.

As people who claim the faith of Jesus, we have so much to offer this battered, storm-tossed world. We can offer love for enemies, and mercy and forgiveness for those who need it. But most important of all: we can offer hope.

Author Anne Lamott describes the significance and incredible value of hope. She addresses the current storms we are facing as a nation, and she writes,

“And we don't give up hope. Emily Dickinson said that hope encourages the Good to reveal itself. We need all the Good we can summon in these Locked and Loaded days.”

In 1998, a movie came out starring Sandra Bullock and Harry Connick, Jr. It was the story of a young mother who was thrown into a storm of betrayal and divorce. Her fear and lack of hope threatened to overwhelm her, but eventually, her hope in herself, her future, and in life itself was restored. The name of the move is “Hope Floats.”

“Hope Floats.”

What a wonderful image for we who are being thrown about in the storms of hatred and fear. If we listen to Jesus calling us, just as he called to Peter, to get out of the boat and come to him, we will find that, on the surface of the water where Jesus is standing, hope is floating all around.

As we learn to stop cowering in fear and despair, and as we find the courage and faith to get out of the boat, we will find that hope that always leads to good. Better yet – we will find that we can become the hope that our world needs.

If we are called to follow Jesus, then perhaps we are also called to be the ones who do whatever we can to help calm the storm, to spread peace instead of chaos, faith where there is fear, love where there is hatred, and hope where there is despair.

I pray that we may all discover that there is no storm so strong and frightening that it can overwhelm our sense of hope, and there are no waves so powerful or dreadful that they can plunge our hope into the cold, dark depths of the sea.

When we step out of the boat and keep our eyes on Jesus, we will discover that, in that grace-filled water, our fear will dissolve and, through the power of God, our hope will always float. Amen.