Whatever It Takes
Whatever It Takes
Matthew 14:22-27
Next week is Palm Sunday, the moment when Jesus and all of his followers parade to the gates of Jerusalem. If we are going to join that parade, we need to spend some time this morning connecting with the disciples and their challenges. If we hope to be disciples ourselves, then their challenges will be ours as well.
Last week, we read an account of what happened just after Jesus learned of John the Baptist’s death. All Jesus wanted was a few minutes alone. His heart is filled with grief. The crowds, though, find Jesus, instead. He has compassion on them, teaching them and healing them. Ultimately, the disciples, to their credit, recognize that the crowds must be getting hungry. They want to send the people away. Jesus tells them to do something themselves. They share what they have—five loaves and two fish. Jesus blesses the food. The crowd and the disciples sit down together, like civilized people. There is more than enough to go around.
Right off the bat, just looking at the middle of this story, we should be able to identify with the disciples. I don’t think anyone today is having a hard time recognizing the needs of those around us. With people losing jobs, with medical workers calling out for supplies, with folks just struggling to keep a business open or struggling to keep that social distance, who hasn’t thought, “Someone should do something about that…” I have a hard time faulting the disciples for having that be their first utterance. Don’t we almost always perceive the needs of others long before we are quite sure what to do about those needs?
This is something we all should be struggling with now. How can I help others without putting those closest to me at extra risk? We all have people whom we love who are elderly, or who are immune impaired, or who are going through extra difficulties. What then shall we do?
I think that the best we are going to do, like the disciples in the middle of the story, is assess what we have to share and ask God to bless it. For as much as it may seem like sitting in our sanctuary together is a fading memory, our little church is doing what we can do. We’ve given support to ten families in Waukegan through a school psychologist. We’ve helped a dedicated worker in a local business who needed a hand. We’ve supported the churches in Waukegan who are delivering food boxes to their neediest families. We’ve sent several thousand dollars worth of gift cards out to the Lake Bluff Schools to help families in need, right here.
I want you to know about this work because when I say that “we” have done these things, every one of you is a part of that “we.” Maybe you recognized the need and connected us. Maybe you’ve stalwartly supported the church for years and that support is a part of how the church is here in the midst of today’s struggles, doing what we can do. We are going to keep doing these things because this is the very “Way” of being in this world that Christ came to teach us—to be compassionate, to share, to love God and love our neighbors, as ourselves.
Still, though…having said all this, it does still feel like just five loaves and two fish, right? The disciples didn’t think they had much. They gave what they had. People who otherwise would have been hungry were fed…but it’s not like they weren’t hungry the next day again, right? It’s not like Jesus took the five loaves and two fish and made it some gourmet meal, either. The miraculous part of the story is not that hungry people were never hungry again. No, these in need knew from then on that someone cared. When people shared, when they sat down and broke bread together, when they accounted for each other’s needs, they all caught a glimpse of God’s kingdom—the way the world would be if the world worked as God intended.
At which point you may think to yourself, “Well, Mark, that’s all well and good for those folks two thousand years ago in their quaint little hillside moment with Jesus, but right now, in case you haven’t noticed, things are messed up!” (What? Did I put too many words in your mouth? Sorry!) The last thing that I want to do is argue that things aren’t messed up now. However, I do want to help you understand just how messed up things actually were for the disciples, too, because that is part of what connects us.
Let’s roll things back for a minute. They are called to be disciples, to follow Jesus, to come learn his “Way” of walking through life. Initially, things go really well. They are all sad, I’m sure, at leaving the lives that they had known behind. Still, the early experiences with Jesus are pretty amazing. He’s healing people. He’s teaching great things. The crowds are growing by the day. At some point, though, things get a little “prickly.” Do we really have to have so many sick people around us? Do we really have to buy into this whole love your neighbor thing? Do I really have to love that neighbor?
Still, though, you have to assume that the disciples believe that Jesus knows what he’s doing. (He did!) And you have to assume that the disciples figured that whatever Jesus did was going to be a success. Some of those disciples assumed that this success was going to be on the world’s terms, namely, that Jesus was going to be the Messiah, the warrior king who would lead the revolution and throw off the Roman occupation. Others may have had other understandings: that he was a great prophet or that he would just keep being a great teacher and healer for decades to come.
That’s why the death of John the Baptist had to absolutely rock the disciples’ understandings. John, we can fairly safely say, was at least on a parallel path if not even a competing path with Jesus. John was a teacher who had followers who preached a message that had more to do with hellfire and damnation and repentance than Jesus’ message of forgiveness and mercy and love. Still, though, all signs point to respect and connection between Jesus and John. Then, when Herod offers his wife anything she wants for her birthday, she asks for the head of John the Baptist. A terrible thing happens to a really good person. I think that the disciples had to be thinking to themselves, “If that can happen to John, then is anyone safe?” John’s death had to make mortality very, very real. There might be a serious cost to their discipleship.
This is the “spin cycle” that we need to realize is there for the disciples on that hillside with Jesus: “It’s all well and good that he’s helping these people but does anyone else see how serious all this is?” Even as they recognized that the needs of the crowd were very real and that they needed to do something, they had to be thinking to themselves, “Should we even be here? Can we possibly be safe!” They had to be checking their backs the whole time…
So, imagine the disciples’ relief when the crowd was fed and gone. Now, they could just be their own group and have Jesus’ undivided attention. Now, things would go back to normal. The only problem was that Jesus had other plans. He announced that he was going to take a little time to himself—time to be alone and pray, time to grieve for John. In the meantime, he sends the disciples off in a boat to head across the Sea of Galilee. He tells them that he’ll meet them on the other side.
We should remember that at least four of these disciples are fishermen. The sea is their office. It had to feel so good to do something familiar. They had to feel competent and confident again, even if the other disciples might have been a bit out of their element. They also had to be experienced enough to recognize that right about the time when the shore receded from their view and the night settled in, the way that the wind shifted and picked up meant that they were all in trouble. The Sea of Galilee was a relatively shallow, narrow body of water. As a result it could be an awfully difficult place to navigate in a storm, especially at night.
The disciples are in trouble. You can imagine the four experienced sailors doing their best to call on their skills and to mask their fears from the other eight. You can also imagine the early complaints that the others voice that then become the silent prayers in each of their hearts and minds as they hold onto the boat and to one another for dear life. The waves are threatening to slowly tear their boat apart…
That’s when the disciples see something. Here are two things that are true. First, If you are in desperate straights and you see something, it is a totally understandable human response to assume the worst. You are already scared! This must just be the next scary thing heading your way, right? The disciples see something but they assume that what they are seeing is a ghost. Who can blame them?
The second thing that is true is that if you are in desperate straights and you see something and that something turns out to be help, the last thing in the world that you do is stop and grill that help on how it got there. Through the howling wind, they hear a voice, “Take heart; it is I; do not be afraid.!” Suddenly, what they see isn’t a ghost. What they see is Jesus, doing whatever it takes to get to them in their distress.
That’s what I want you to see, too. The disciples are simply doing what Jesus asked them to do. Sometimes, even when you’re doing the right thing, terrible things can happen. The winds can blow. The waves can rise. And those storms can be terribly indifferent to the quality of the person who is in their path. Mortality is real. However, what we need to remember is that even when Jesus seems a thousand miles away, he is aware. And even when there is no good answer to the questions, “How did you get here? How did you know?” the power of such questions fades fast in the face of the truth, “Oh, my God! Help is here…”
What would that look like for us as we get battered around in this storm? Look for the people who are bringing God’s presence to life. It’s the email that shows up at just the right moment from just the right person with just the right mix of laughter and genuine concern. It’s the vision of something more than mere humanity in the man’s sign outside the emergency room that says to the staff, “Thank you for saving my wife’s life!” It’s the realization that what could come off as purely selfish—hanging out in your own home—might be the most selfless way that you can show genuine concern for your neighbor. It is the heartfelt daily prayer of the faithful, “God, get me out of the way and work through me! God, guide us through this stormy night!”