The God Who Cares
The God Who Cares
Matthew 14:28-33
Last week, the final note of our text was Jesus’ words to the disciples. They were doing exactly what Jesus had ordered them to do: crossing the Sea of Galilee. It was night. The winds were howling against them. Fear and despair were creeping in. At which point, all of us who have ever believed that we were doing the right thing—the faithful thing—only to find our efforts totally opposed, should be identifying with those lonely, scared men in the boat. Jesus comes to them. Their fear only increases because they’re sure that they are seeing a ghost. Then, Jesus speaks to them: “Take heart. It is I. Do not be afraid.”
This morning, before we ask the question of what follows those words, let’s unpack those words. We hear those words and think, “Aw…that’s so nice!” However, what I want you to see is these were loaded words that should have led the disciples to recognize Jesus instantly…
Start with, “Take heart.” This is the phrase that Jesus spoke to the paralytic in chapter nine of Matthew. The man is being carried on a bed by a group of his friends. Jesus sees that scene—a man with terrible needs and a group of compassionate friends—and without anyone ever asking for any help, Jesus says, “Take heart, son, your sins are forgiven.” We don’t know this man’s backstory. All we know is what happens next: the priests at the temple who witness this healing accuse Jesus of blasphemy for offering the man forgiveness. Essentially, they’re accusing Jesus of cutting in on their fundraising revenue stream—selling God’s favor.
Later in the same chapter, a leader of the synagogue kneels before Jesus (come again?) and tells Jesus that his daughter has just died. Putting everything on the line, the official says that he knows that if Jesus would only lay a hand on her, the girl would live. (This is quite a faith statement from a surprise source!) At the same time, (overwhelming, right?) a woman who has been hemorrhaging for years approaches him and says that if she could just touch his cloak she knows she will be healed. (Pause and see what’s happening. One of the religious authorities and one of the people whom that official would have most despised—an unclean woman—are united by their human need. Jesus says to the woman, “Take heart, daughter, your faith has made you well.” She’s healed. Then, he goes to the man’s house, where the crowds mock him for being a day late and a dollar short. Then, Jesus takes the dead girl by the hand and walks her outside. The girl lives.
It takes courage—it takes heart—on everyone’s part for any of this to happen. One person (the authority) has to swallow his pride. Another person (the woman) has to expose themselves to everyone’s judgment. Even Jesus has to be willing to be mocked by the crowd. At a deeper level, it requires real heart to hold onto hope when things seem completely hopeless. Still, Perhaps at the deepest level of all, sometimes the scariest notion that change might actually happen, I might walk again, that I might stop bleeding, that my daughter might live. That would change everything!
In so many ways, courage seems to be a prerequisite for living in a world of hurt. Perhaps, knowing us so well, this is why Jesus encourages people to take heart so often. Find your courage, friends…
It is I…” There is perhaps no more powerful prompt in Jewish history than when the notion of “I am” enters the picture. Remember when Moses was sent to Pharaoh’s court to set the slaves free? He asks who he should say sent him. Moses was expecting, I’m sure, the particular domains of this God’s power: the god of fertility, the god of war, the god of love?. Instead, God blows those categories away: “Tell them, ‘I am’ sent you.” “I am the God of all life, not some little category. I am the real deal.” Jesus’ middle phrase, “It is I” is essentially implying, “God is here.”
What about “Do not be afraid?” There is a claim that the phrase, “Do not be afraid” is repeated 365 times in the Bible. I’m going to be honest here. It’n a nice thought but I haven’t fact checked that claim. We all need to remind ourselves—24/7 and 365— to not live in fear. When people are afraid, we almost never do “our best work.” Instead, we start hoarding what feels scarce, which includes everything from food and water to toilet paper. We also get stingy with some of our best stuff: our compassion for others; our willingness to love. The angels tell the shepherds, “Do not be afraid.” The risen Jesus tells the women at the tomb, “Do not be afraid.” We might be well served to mumble that phrase to ourselves throughout our days.
“Take heart. It is I. Do not be afraid.” The thing is, even in the middle of the Sea of Galilee, even with the wind howling, even faced with the prospect of what looks like someone walking on water, when the disciples heard Jesus say those words, they should have recognized him. If your mother or father or your son or your daughter or your best friend called right now and you answered the phone, you would recognize their voice, especially if they said exactly the kind of thing that they always say. Still…they don’t recognize Jesus because they are being totally consumed by their fear. I don’t think there is one of us who hasn’t been there and done that.
Now, at this point, the typical sermon turns to Peter and says, “But here’s a faithful man!” After all, Peter doesn’t cower in fear. Peter has the courage and the faith to go to Jesus on the water. Peter “gets out of the boat.” (Search that phrase on Google some time…talk about a lot of hits!) The point then becomes to challenge ourselves to “get out of the boat,” to take risks and think (wait for it) “out of the box” (Aren’t we all tired of that phrase?)
This morning, I want to challenge you to think completely differently about this text. Let’s start here…First, the classic read of this text would look at Peter as so much more courageous than everyone else. I want you to consider this. Of all the disciples, Peter was the most comfortable on the sea. Prior to Jesus showing up, the Sea of Galilee was his home. He’d seen wind before. He’d watched storms come and go. He knew the boat floated and that they were likely to be okay as long as no one did anything dumb. This night was terrifying for your average guy but, for Peter, this was a night at the office.
(As an aside, after 36 years of being a pastor, this is how I feel about death and dying. Being with someone at the end of life or just going to the funeral home to make arrangements is really frightening for a lot of people. For me, that sometimes strange and surreal world, is where I work. It’s useful to have that experience to help people when they are overwhelmed. However, that doesn’t make me braver than anyone else. I just know the funeral director’s name, the mints aren’t bad and the nice pens are worth keeping. I know this because I’ve been there and done that.)
Here’s the thing. If what Jesus says matters and rings bells as he’s walking on the water, then listen again to what Peter says: “Lord, if it is you…” Notice, Peter doesn’t say, “I know you!” or “Jesus…I can’t believe it is you.” Peter’s statement is contingent: “Lord, if it is you…” Peter is basically saying, “I’m not convinced. I need proof.” This is another thing that people do when we are afraid: we demand proof on our own terms. We withhold trust.
If you think about it, this is exactly how Satan tempts Jesus in the wilderness. “Jesus, before you get started here, wouldn’t you like a little proof, a little assurance that your own needs will be taken care of, a dramatic moment of divinity that would build a nice head of steam for your ministry?” Peter, who would be told on another day, “Get thee behind me, Satan,” (which is Jesus basically saying, “Stop tempting me!) sounds a lot like the tempter: “If it is you…”
Who else does Peter sound like here? He sounds like the priests at the temple who are constantly trying to trip Jesus up by getting him to say who he is so that they can charge him with blasphemy. He sounds a lot like the people who would taunt him as he hung on the cross, dying: “If you are the King of the Jews;” “If you are who you say that you are;” If you are the Son of God…”
Everyone wants Jesus to prove who he is. He comes close for a lot of people. The man can tell an amazing story! He can heal people like there’s no tomorrow! He will go nose-to-nose with the authorities. At times, he will really just blow you away. However, for the vast majority of people who hear or see such things, they are wowed only for a moment. Then, they move on.
The thing that we all overlook, though, is that Jesus didn’t do any of those things to prove anything to anybody. Why did he teach? He taught because he wanted people to see a better way to live. He wasn’t trying to win a speech contest. Why did he heal people? He healed people to ease their pain. He never took a dime, left town as fast as possible, told those he healed not to tell anyone, and reminded them that it was their faith that healed them. He doesn’t walk on water to prove anything. He walks on water because his friends need help.
Peter walks on water to prove something. He wants proof that this guy on the water is Jesus. And…come to think of it…there is a boat load of his fellow disciples who are watching and this little stroll might just secure his place as the greatest disciple of all time. “Jesus, if that’s you out there, then order me to walk out to you.” At this point, I like to think Jesus recognized all of this and just gently shook his head and said, “Okay, Peter…come to me.”
For a few steps, everything is awesome. Briefly, Peter walks on the water! However, proof only carries us so far. We can convince ourselves that we’re on solid ground. We can check our facts and run through all our possible choices. We can’t check the facts and review every choice fast enough to keep up with what life throws at us. Sooner or later, we, like Peter, will look down and see how deep things are. We will look around us and see the wave coming at us that has our name on it. We will take our eye off of what matters most and, like Peter, we will be overwhelmed with fear and quickly begin to sink and slowly begin to drown.
Which brings us to the true moment of faith. As he is drowning, Peter knows who to call out to and what to call out for. He calls to Jesus not for proof but for help: “Lord, save me!” What appears in that moment is not the Sistine Chapel’s divine finger pointing as if to teach a lesson. No…what appears is Jesus’ hand, still calloused from his days as a carpenter, which grabs Peter’s hand, still calloused from hauling nets, and holds on for dear life. What does Jesus say? When Peter, who had always believed in his own strength and his own power and his own plans, felt that hand on his, I think real faith was born. Peter, the rock on whom the church would be built, discovered that trust, not proof, was the foundation for faith.
Overwhelmed? Look for the God who cares, who is reaching out to you before you ever even knew that you would need a hand.