This sermon was preached at St. James Lutheran Church in Johnston, Iowa. It’s based on Matthew 14:22-33. If you’d like to view the worship service, you can find it here: https://fb.watch/mp121NCUH2/
Matthew 14:22-33
22[Jesus] made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side [of the Sea of Galilee], while he dismissed the crowds.23And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, 24but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. 25And early in the morning he came walking toward them on the sea. 26But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear. 27But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”
28Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” 29He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus. 30But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” 31Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” 32When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. 33And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”
Beloved of God, grace and peace to you in the name of Jesus.
Who is Jesus? This question frames the gospel of Matthew. The book begins with the genealogy of Jesus and ends with Jesus identifying himself as one who abides with his disciples. “I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
Who is Jesus? It’s really the question at the heart of Matthew’s gospel, right here in our reading for this morning, from the 14th chapter of a 28-chapter book.
Just before this chapter begins, Jesus is teaching in his hometown and the people there are scandalized by him. They ask, “Isn’t this the carpenter’s son? Isn’t his mother called Mary? Aren’t his brothers James and Joseph and Simon and Judas? Aren’t all his sisters with us?” Jesus is one of us, his hometown crew contends. We know him. He’s a son, a sibling, a human being just like us. What’s he doing presuming to teach us with authority?
Who is Jesus?
His disciples answer the question in a very different way. “When Jesus and Peter got into the boat, the wind ceased. And those in the boat worshiped Jesus, saying, ‘Truly, you are the Son of God.’”
The highlight of each week at Bible Camp was the Christ Walk, as staff depicted scenes from the life of Jesus. The most challenging scene was always this one—Jesus walking on water. I was never really behind the scenes setting things up, but I’m pretty sure it involved some sort of homemade apparatus lowered into the water so that Jesus—and then Peter—could purportedly walk on water. If Jesus’ balance wasn’t so great, the whole thing went downhill fast.
Who is Jesus? For you? For us? For the world?
It wasn’t always so clear to the disciples. Earlier in this same story, they mistake Jesus for a ghost!
Now, our Christ walk always happened with lots of light left in the day. No one ever mistook the counselor playing Jesus for a ghost. But imagine being on the boat there with the disciples.
Already, you are mentally and physically exhausted. In a very short stretch of time you’ve observed three key things: Jesus rejected in his hometown, Jesus learning of the death of John the Baptist, and Jesus miraculously feeding over 5,000 people with just 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish.
Your mind is reeling. Who is this Jesus you’re following? The carpenter’s son from Nazareth? A threat to those in power? One who risks being executed just like his cousin John? Or a miracle worker who can somehow heal the sick and feed the crowds?
Who is this Jesus you’re following? And what does that make you? Will you also be rejected, considered a threat, at risk of death? Is it safe for you to keep on living this life of discipleship?
And now it’s those disorienting hours before the sun rises, when the depth of the night distorts reality and makes everything seem even more frightening. You’re on a boat, far from land. The wind is against you and your boat is being battered by the waves. You’re awake and restless, though you yearn to be sound asleep.
And then, suddenly, you see someone walking toward you on the water. Who is it? What is it?
You are shaking, as stirred up as the sea around you. You are terrified—not by the wind and the waves (you’ve become accustomed to these storms that arise frequently), but (as it turns out) by Jesus.
Matthew seems to use this word, terrified, with some intentionality. He uses it only one other time in his gospel and that’s to describe King Herod at the time of Jesus’ birth. Magi from the east come to him asking, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews,” and Herod is terrified. If Jesus is the king, what does that make him?
Herod is threatened by Jesus. I wonder if maybe we are too.
Just like the disciples on the boat that night were used to the “sudden and frequent” storms characteristic of their region (see Karoline Lewis’ commentary on this text), maybe we’ve become numb to the sudden and frequent storms we experience in our time and place.
Extreme weather events.
Mass shootings.
Legislation that perpetuates injustice and oppression.
When I open the AP news website each morning, I expect bad news. I expect that the winds of time are against us, that waves of hatred are continuing to batter our common boat.
What’s surprising, maybe even unbelievable, is good news.
What threatens life as we know it is Jesus.
In response to Jesus, Peter gets out of the boat. How often does obeying Jesus’ command feel like leaving security behind and descending into uncertainty? I’m amazed every day by seminary students and their families who leave behind seemingly stable, secure lives to respond to God’s call—not knowing what the Church will look like when they graduate, what will be needed, what will be required of them.
When have you followed Jesus into a vast unknown? When have you prayed, “O God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown?”
Peter starts out with good courage, but then his attention turns from Jesus to the strong wind all around him. How easy it is to disregard God when we’re surrounded by bad news that clamors for our attention, when we’re feeling unbalanced by waves of grief and fear that batter our lives.
Peter, noticing the wind and not Jesus, becomes wobbly and begins to sink. This time there is no “Lord, if it is you.” Instead, Peter cries out to Jesus wholeheartedly, “Lord, save me!”
Who is Jesus? Our Lord. The one who saves us. The one who reaches out his hand and catches us over and over again.
Is he a ghost? No.
Is he a threat to our life as we know it? Yes.
Jesus calls us through perils unknown. His call is bound to disrupt our lives—leading us into conflict we might prefer to avoid and bringing transformation we might resist.
The life of discipleship is a threat to our comfort, to our security, even to our sense of identity. If Jesus is who he is, then who are we?
Who are we if the one we follow calls the world to repentance? Brings down the powerful and lifts up the lowly? Knows himself as beloved of God and trusts God completely?
We, then, are bearers of good news.
We are agents of change, empowered by the Holy Spirit.
We are beloved of God and we can trust God completely.
Who are we when bad news bears down on us, when so much of who we are (our careers, our relationships, our health, our finances, our grades) can be so easily battered by the waves? Who are we when we’re absolutely terrified? Who are we when we’re anxious in the night?
We, then, are God’s beloved. We do not depend on apparatus in the lake or anything else that provides only the illusion of control. We trust God with our lives.
Jesus bids us come to him, calms our fears, gives us courage, surprises us with grace, and then sends us out to proclaim good news—the good news of God’s unwavering love for all creation.
Who is Jesus? The Savior of the world. The one who reaches out his hand to catch us when we falter. The one who is “with you always, to the end of the age.”
It is well with your soul.
Let us pray.
“O God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown. Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”
*This prayer is one of the suggested prayers in the Evangelical Lutheran Worship (ELW) Evening Prayer.)