Faith and Fear

Matthew 14:22-33   

10th Sunday after Pentecost – Lectionary 19

Yesterday, Charlottesville, VA was filled with fear.  The alt-right community, which is a white supremacist, neo-Nazi community, protested the removal of the statue of the Confederate General Robert E. Lee.  Clergy, members of Black Lives Matter, along with others, gathered there to counter-protest, to confront, racism.  The event turned violent and deadly.  The pinnacle of violence, as of the time I am writing this, occurred when three cars plowed into a group of peaceful counter-protestors, and one driver then backed up, injuring more people.  One person has died from this event, two state police died in a related helicopter accident, and nineteen were hospitalized, thirty-five more were hurt.

At the heart of this prejudice and discrimination demonstrated by the alt-right is both ignorance and fear, fear of those who are different.  White supremacists fear the loss of their place of privilege. Fear can be contagious.  The alt-right’s fear, manifesting itself in violence, also brought fear to those who were there not only to confront racism and to condemn hatred, but to affirm God’s love.  Love is stronger than hate. God’s light will overcome all darkness.  We pray for both perpetrators and victims of violence.

On a larger scale, at the heart of the issue of discrimination of any kind are systems that promote evil against others, and rationalize that evil by blaming the victim.  But God created us all in God’s image.  What we heard this morning in  St. Paul’s letter to the Romans, he expands in his letter to the community in Galatia, “ There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus” (3:28). In our sinfulness, sometimes we refuse to acknowledge that.  Even worse, we knowingly or unknowingly participate in systems that contribute to and enable prejudice.  It is frightening.

Is it discrimination that scares you the most?  Is it nuclear weapons in the hands of North Korea?  Are you afraid for your children’s children and their children because our climate is changing?  Fear can also be deeply personal.  Maybe you are losing physical function, and worry because you don’t know what your future holds.  Maybe you are scared of being left alone.  What is it that you fear?

If you have been out in the ocean during a storm, or standing in the middle of a sea of hate-full and fear-full people, you may be able to identify with the disciples and Peter.  Our gospel story of tumultuous waves rocking the disciples’ boat follows another fear provoking event, that of John the Baptizer having his head chopped off by King Herod.  After hearing this news, Jesus tries going into the desert to be alone so that he could process his emotions, but over 10,000 people found him. When it was dinner time, he took five loaves of bread and two fish, blessed them, and gave the food to the disciples to feed the people, all the people.  There was more than enough.

Our reading begins with Jesus trying once more to be alone.  Immediately after feeding the crowds, he made the disciples get into the boat and go across the water ahead of him.  Jesus, in the meantime, went up the mountain to pray.  In the dark of the night, the waves became bigger and stronger, and, fighting the force of the winds and the water, the boat did not make it to the shore as expected. It must have been a restless night for the disciples.  By early morning, the boat and the people were still bouncing around. The disciples were soaked to the skin. Suddenly, they were terrified by someone walking on the sea.  They cried out, “It’s a ghost!” “It’s me!” Jesus said. “Don’t be afraid!”

Peter’s response to seeing Jesus is curious. He did not say, “Jesus, stop the storm!”  What he does say is, “IF it Is you, command me to come to you on the water.”  Peter, the one who will confess Jesus to be the Messiah, and then say he does not know the man.  Peter, the bold and brash disciple who speaks before he thinks.  Peter, the one who loves Jesus and yet disappoints him.  Peter, the one whose faith reminds us of our own.

“Command me to come to you on the water,” Peter says.  Jesus doesn’t respond, “Peter, don’t be ridiculous.”  Jesus honors his request.  “Come,” he says.  Peter moves forward, across the water, until he becomes aware of the wind. He looks at the boat behind him, Jesus in front of him, and the water underneath of him.  The more scared he gets, the deeper he sinks.  “Lord, save me!” Peter shouts.  Immediately, without any hesitation, Jesus reaches out.  As Jesus extends his arms, he says to Peter, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”  Can you hear the lament in Jesus’ voice?  “Oh, Peter. Again?”

Have you ever been in a situation, and looked around, and began to feel as if you were sinking deeper and deeper?  Have you ever been in a place where you feel like the storm will never end?  Part of being human is living in the not-yet kingdom of God where storms come and go, some more quickly than others.  Storms take all forms.  Storms show up in chaotic and violent demonstrations of hatred. Tempests arise when systems of oppression are confronted. Personal storms come when unemployment compensation runs out, and there are no job offers coming in, and when a family member or friend is addicted to drugs, and cannot break free from the demons.  Storms intensify when illness changes how we live.

Despite the storms, we believe in God.  We cling to God. We pray for a miracle.  But, if we are honest, we will confess that fear and doubt creep in.  The sinking, and the fear, and the doubting,—which comes first doesn’t really matter.  The winds are so strong, the sea is so big, and they, along with many things in our lives, are beyond our control. “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”  Why?  Because as human beings, that is who we are.  We are people of courage, and people of fear.  We are people of faith and people of doubt.  Not just once, but over and over again.  “Save me, Jesus,” Peter cries. “Save us, Jesus,” we cry, too.

We are saved.  We are saved every day.  Martin Marty in his book, Lutheran Questions, Lutheran Answers, the book which is the object of our next book study, writes, “To be saved is to be appraised by God and found lacking—and then being picked up by God and placed in a new situation.  Whatever held me back— ‘sin, death, the devil, or the self,’ [or fear, or the hatred others have] has lost its hold and I am made free.” In both our life and in our death, “Whatever we picture and however we picture it, ‘to be saved’ means to be situated where God’s presence will never be revoked and where God’s light will shine.”[1]  To be saved is to be given God’s grace that empowers us to live our lives differently than we would have had we not been met by God in Christ Jesus.  To be saved is to stand witnessing to God’s love for all people despite our fear.

“Save us, Jesus!”  Save us from the storms that terrify us.  Hearing Jesus’ response, our ears sting. “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”  Then we remember Jesus telling us that a tiny mustard seed grows into the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree in which birds will make nests.

If we could walk on the water in the middle of a storm all by ourselves and not sink, we wouldn’t need a savior.  But we can’t, and we do. In the chaotic waters of our lives, we realize both who we are, and whose we are.  “Save us, Jesus!” we cry, and immediately, Jesus reaches out his hand.

~Pastor Cheryl Ann Griffin

[1] Marty, Martin E.  Lutheran Questions Lutheran Answers.  Minneapolis:  Augsburg Fortress, 2007.  80-82.

Author: Pastor Cheryl Griffin

Pastor Cheryl Ann Griffin thinks God has a sense of humor for leading her into ministry, but can’t imagine doing anything else! Pastor Griffin received her BA degree from the College of William and Mary. She worked as an accountant before God led her to the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Gettysburg, where she received her Master of Divinity degree. In the Virginia Synod, Pastor Griffin is a member of the Ministerium Team and frequently leads small groups at synod youth events. She is also a representative to the VA Synod Council.

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