Standing on Troubled Waters

THE TENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

August 13, 2017

The Rev. Dr. Jack Eastwood

Let us pray.
Lord of living waters you saved us from the flood of violence and despair: reach out to us when
faith is weak, when we are going under and make us unafraid to walk with you: through Jesus
Christ, in whom we are raised. AMEN.

Appointed for today, this collect by Steven Shakespeare from Prayers for an Inclusive Church summarizes the three lessons this morning. God’s prophet Elijah is hiding in fear for his life at the hand of Jezebel and her cronies. Paul counsels the church in Rome to be strengthened by the gift of faith and the generosity of God to those who call on him whether Jew or Gentile, slave or free, to live in wholesome love rather than through works of the law, and in the gospel reading Jesus reaches out his hand to support Peter and the disciples who are sinking into fear. Like the prophet, the disciples discover peace in God in calming serenity of spirit.

Huston Smith wrote a book at the turn of the century about religion in response to the
crisis in faith caused by among other factors, the rise and effect of science on our human
understanding. The title of the book is revealing. “Why Religion Matters: the Fate of the Human
Spirit in an Age of Disbelief.” He characterizes the condition that effects the world as “loss –
the loss of religious certainties and of transcendence with its larger horizons. When,” he explains, “human beings started considering themselves the bearers of the highest meaning in
the world and the measure of everything, meaning began to ebb and the stature of humanity to
diminish. The world lost its human dimensions, and we began to lose control of it. “ That is, of
religious certainties.

Try applying the Jesus words “Love your enemies and those that persecute you” to
some of our crises of terrorism today, both on the global as well as domestic fronts.

As Huston describes, built into the human makeup is a longing for a “more” that the
world of everyday experience cannot provide. There is a longing in the human soul, a reaching
for something beyond, simply put, a reaching for God.

And so in our story today, Peter, terrified by a storm on the lake and more probably by
the appearance of a ghost walking towards them. They cry out in fear, they hear a voice but are
not certain of it. Peter reaches for Christ. First he must test if he is going to trust. “If it is you,
Lord, command me to you on the water.” “If it is you, show your stuff as did when you fed
5,000 people earlier today!” In our times of suffering and weakness, we often cry out for God,
for the strength beyond us to give us confidence.

This very cry is in our Eucharist today, we pray, “Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ
will come again.”
.
Somehow, Peter responds. He takes those first steps. I can imagine his friends in the
boat well-familiar with his impetuosity, shouting at him, “Are you crazy? What on earth are you
doing? You are going to drown, we know you can’t swim!”. But this is an important moment. I
wonder if we are too often used to splashing around in safe shallow water and resist
opportunities to deepen our faith, to let ourselves be challenged. That is Peter’s moment. It is
the opportunity to choose to love our enemies and those who hurt us, There is the old song
where we sing “Jesus call us o’er the tumult of life’s wild restless sea , , ,saying “follow me,”
Better said, it is like Jesus calling us into the tumult.

The day after the horror of September 11, there was a couple being interviewed on the news.
They were standing on the street, before the wreckage of ground zero obviously in grief. Their
beloved daughter had perished in the tragedy of that day. Through tears, they shared their grief
with the reporter. The reporter, stammering, said to them, “Well, I know that you will be able
to go to your place of worship this weekend and there maybe you’ll find some consolation in
your faith…” And the grieving mother replied, “No, we won’t be going to our place of worship
this weekend ‘cause we’re Christians, and we know what Jesus commands about forgiveness,
and frankly, we’re just not yet ready for that. It’ll be some time before we’ll want to be with
Jesus.”

Here is a couple who have no trouble identifying what Jesus looks like and what it
means to follow him. It takes time to be free to forgive. Hatred can enslave us to not heed
the call until we are free to respond.

Nelson Mandela heard a voice calling him during those long lonely years he spent in
prison. It was God’s voice of wisdom saying to him, over and over. It said, he writes in his
autobiography, that “I am not truly free if I am taking away someone else’s freedom, just as
surely as I am not free when my freedom is taken from me. The oppressor and the oppressed
alike are robbed of their humanity.” The hatred and bigotry of white nationalists we are seeing
now in Charlottesville must be denounced. Can the injured forgive? As Christians, we know
the call to root out any bitterness and hatred in our own hearts. We know what it means to be
called into that tumult. Non-violence is the call of Jesus. it is not an easy call whenever we see
people threaten each other, neighbor against neighbor, citizen against citizen. That is how
demanding the call of Jesus can be.

“Take my hand, precious Lord” is the first phrase of one of the well-beloved Christian
hymns. Composed by Thomas Dorsey, this reading from the Gospel of Matthew may well have
been his early inspiration. As an African American composer, his skill was in writing hymns that
not only captured the hopes, fears, and aspirations of the poor and disenfranchised African
American people, but to all people. Many of our hymns have a story behind them. The writing
of this hymn was born of a personal tragedy. Like Peter striving to stand on trouble waters,
Thomas Dorsey had his own experience of the pain of loss and anger. In 1932 Dorsey had driven
from Chicago to St Louis to organize a gospel choir. When he arrived, a telegram awaited him.
The telegram said that his wife had suddenly become extremely ill and that he should return
home at once. Dorsey’s wife was in the last stages of pregnancy, and when he finally returned home he found that his wife had died. The baby had been born without difficulty but
unfortunately died within two days. He retired to his “music” room and remained there for
three days. Dorsey said that when he came to himself after three days he went to the piano
and composed this song: Precious Lord, take my hand, lead me on, let me stand, I am tired, I am
weak, I am worn; through the storm, though the night, lead me on to the light, take my hand,
precious Lord, lead me on.”

So in the dead of night, or maybe just before dawn, should you hear something, perhaps
a voice coming through your own thoughts as you lie in restlessness, calling you step out into
uncharted, untested, perhaps turbulent waters, asking you to rise up and move through it,
defying the waves that seem to hold you back, there is a good chance that voice belongs to
someone who is your Lord and Savior. And what may he call you to do? In the spirit of today’s
lessons and examples, he calls us to follow the words of our former President Barack Obama,
recently quoting Nelson Mandela:

No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin or his
background or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love. For love comes more naturally to the human heart than its
opposite.