Matthew
14:22-33
“No
hate! No fear!” That was the message printed on many placards yesterday and
chanted by the clergy gathered to offer a peaceful protest to the racist and
anti-Semitic views being proclaimed in Emancipation Park. But there was fear
there yesterday, lots of fear. People rallied for a hateful cause because they
are afraid they are somehow losing something; people opposed them because they
fear where racism and hatred will take us. Clearly there were people afraid of
those they perceive as strange or different. And everyone felt uncertain and
out of control: What is happening? Where will it all lead? It was a scary day.
But
I think that gives us a good entree into our Gospel passage today. It’s a weird
story, and we might almost dismiss it as cartoonish, like Jesus is performing
some cheap stunt here. Except he doesn’t do that kind of stuff. And for me, it
is the very weirdness of the story that makes it so accessible and so relevant.
Whether it’s the disciples seeing Jesus walking on water, or Peter realizing he
is standing on the Sea of Galilee with nothing physical holding him up, we can
safely say, “This is not normal.” It is strange, unexpected, and upsetting. And
what do things which are strange, unexpected, and upsetting often do? They make
us afraid. We are told several times in this brief Gospel passage that the
disciples feel afraid.
So,
yes, here we go with fear again. In my sermon last week, I talked about our
fear of intimacy, our fear of being loved in the thorough, unconditional way
that God loves. And actually, if I were determined enough and morbid enough to
do so, I could preach on fear almost every week: there’s a lot of fear in the
Bible. Which makes sense, because the Bible is filled with human beings, and
human beings spend lots of time and energy being afraid.
I
have never seen someone walking on the water or tried doing it myself. But I
regularly minister to people who are feeling shocked and frightened by things
they did not expect. I often talk to people after they have received a bad
diagnosis or have had some terrible thing happen to them, and they’re scared.
Or I listen to people who find themselves doing things they never thought they
would do, even good things, and feeling uncertain and afraid: there are so many
things that could go wrong, so many things they can’t control. And since most
people like having some measure of control, when they realize they don’t have
that, it’s scary. And that is not just pastoral knowledge for me. I’m as human
as everyone else, and I know what it feels like to be ambushed by upsetting and
unforeseen circumstances. I have, for example, watched my own family members go
through serious medical tests and have waited with them for potentially
devastating results, feeling totally out of control. I have struggled with many
challenges as a priest and as a rector that have left me feeling unsure and
fearful. And, yeah, there was a lot of that kind of fear in our city yesterday.
But
Scripture tells us not to be afraid. Jesus says it in this passage today, and he
says it in many other passages as well. In fact, some form of that admonition —
fear not, do not be afraid — occurs
dozens and dozens of times in the Bible. According to one count, there are 365
verses that tells us not to be afraid: one for every day of the year. I want
this to sink in for a moment. It is so obvious and yet so many people miss it:
Christ does not want us to be afraid. God does not want us to live in fear.
That might not register easily with you because so much popular religion has
become so fear-based. You could talk to lots of people in our country and come
away assuming that God wants us to be afraid all the time. God wants us to to
live in fear: fear of God’s anger, fear of punishment, fear of hell, fear of
terrible things happening to us. I saw a big truck driving on High Street
yesterday with all of America’s supposed sins painted on its side along with
warnings to repent or face dire consequences. Much institutional religion, much
institutional Christianity, has sought to motivate people through fear: do it
our way . . . or else.
So
breathe all of that nonsense out, and breathe this in right now: God does not
want us to be frightened. Fear is not how God motivates anyone. Over and over
and over again in Scripture, the Holy One says, “Do not be afraid.” And when
fear becomes a thing in the Bible, when people feel afraid and project that
onto God, invariably the Spirit comes along to correct that misunderstanding
and set people straight.
So
here is our conundrum. Unexpected things happen, things that are of our
control, and make us afraid. But God does not want us to be afraid. So . . .
how do we resolve that? Well, we know how not to resolve it: by trying to
assert more control. That is a common approach: we often attempt to conquer fear
by trying to take charge. But Scripture does not recommend that approach. Jesus
does not tell those disciples in the boat, “Come on! Get a grip!” He does not
say to Peter, “Try harder! Focus!” Instead, he reassures those disciples and
reaches out his hand to Peter. The message is simple: I’m here and I’m with
you, which is to say, I love you. You don’t need to be afraid.
We
will never have complete control over our world or our lives. Fear will be a
constant temptation that we will not conquer by taking charge or controlling
others. The only antidote to fear is love. When I am afraid, I have found the
one thing that can consistently help me is to connect with God’s love. That
love, which is infinitely powerful, is also infinitely available. When I’m scared,
I may not be able to change my circumstances at all. The diagnosis may still be
bad; the situation I’m in may still be terrible. I may still suffer pain or
loss, and I have. But when I breathe deeply and connect with the love that is
within me and all around me, then fear loses it's power over me. I felt it
yesterday. I don’t even know why it works, I just know it does. And it has
always worked. The great assurance Jesus gives at the end of Matthew’s Gospel
has stood the test of time: I am with you
always, even to the end of the age. It is the same assurance we find in the
Gospel today. When the love of God is with us — and it will be with us always —
there really is no reason to fear and no room for fear. The First Letter of
John says it all: Perfect love casts out
fear (1 John 4:18). There is a great spiritual practice for all of us in
this day and age. When we are afraid, we don’t need to run from it or conquer
it or lash out at others because of it. We can let God love the fear out of us
and set us free. It is a great practice. Don’t just take my word for it: try
it.
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