13 Aug 2023

In this sermon, the speaker reflects on the story of Jesus walking on water and Peter's attempt to join him. The disciples slowly come to understand who Jesus really is, and when Peter steps out onto the water, he realizes his doubts and fears are too great. The storm is calmed, and the disciples worship Jesus, acknowledging him as the Son of God. The sermon also explores Paul's teachings in the Epistle to the Romans, emphasizing that there is no distinction between Jew and Gentile in the eyes of the Lord. The speaker highlights the importance of inclusivity and rejects any form of anti-Semitism. The sermon concludes by emphasizing the central message of grace and the transformative power of accepting Jesus' truth. May only truth be spoken and only truth received. Amen. So this is the second Sunday in a row that the lectionary has had us read a very familiar story from the Gospel narrative. Last week, it was the feeding of the 5,000. This week, the story of Jesus walking on the water with Peter, dear Peter, doing his level best to keep calm and meet his Teacher right there on the water. This is all part of the slow build that it takes the disciples to really grapple with who this Jesus is. They begin by following a compelling Teacher. You watch as He offers healing and restoration to all sorts of people. And it slowly begins to dawn on them just who it is they might be dealing with. Who can take five loaves and a couple of fish and feed thousands of people? Could it be...? Well, it's right after that feeding story that Matthew moves us to what we read today. This is immediately after the thousands are fed. Immediately, Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side while He dismissed the crowds. Then we learn that Jesus went up the mountain alone to pray. Something He's shown doing again and again in these Gospels. Ah, but the evening falls. And a storm begins to brew up on the Sea of Galilee. The disciples are forced to struggle right through the night to keep the boat from capsizing, sinking. It's early in the morning after hours and hours of slogging through that storm, that they look up and they see a figure coming to them across the surface of the water. It's a ghost! Who can blame them for thinking that? Right away, that figure on the water calls out to them and says, take heart. It is I. Do not be afraid. Now our English translations don't do full justice to what is there in the original Greek. We see it translated as, it is I. Don't be afraid. It is I. But in fact, the Greek says, ego emi, which is literally, I am. Have courage. I am. Stop being afraid. It's closer to the original. Which actually drives us back to the Hebrew of the book of Exodus, in which Moses asks God for His name. You remember the scene, right? With the burning bush. And Moses has this extraordinary experience and it's God speaking to him. And He says, what is your name? And the answer comes back, I am. Or I am what I am. Or, I will be there. All legitimate translations for an elusive word. But the simplest and most common way of translating that, particularly amongst the Jews of Jesus' day, was, I am. Now as Jesus comes to them across the water and they tremble in fear, He utters that same name, I am. This is in fact a moment of revelation. And one which will deepen their understanding of who it is they've been following. So with this profound kind of hope, Peter calls out, Lord, if it is You, command me to come out across the water to You. Come, Peter. Come out across the water to meet me. Peter tries. He seems to step out with real confidence, but the fear gets the best of him. And he realizes how deep it is, how big the waves are, and how hard this storm is. He needs to be rescued by Jesus, by Ego Emi, the Great I Am. Oh, Peter, your faith is still too little. Your doubts too large. And with that, the storm is calmed. And the disciples, Matthew says, the disciples worship Him. It's a strong word. This confession pours from their mouths. They say, truly You are the Son of God. And that's more than they've said to this point in the Gospel narratives. Son of God. Yet, we know how the story rolls. We know that they'll stumble. And then they'll get things all wrong. Imagining that Jesus is going to mount a rebellion against the occupying Roman forces. They imagine that the only path the Messiah of Israel could possibly be on would be to do that. And so they begin to dream of and ask for positions of honor at your right and at your left hand side when you come into your kingdom. Men, for all of that bravado on the night of His arrest, they flee into the darkness in fear. And Peter will famously utter his threefold denial of ever even having known Jesus. I do not know the man. As the musician and writer Nick Cave has commented, even His disciples, who we would hope would absorb some of Christ's brilliance, seem to be in a perpetual fog of misunderstanding, following Christ from scene to scene with little or no comprehension of what is going on. And isn't that a stunning summary of things in the Gospels? Just, they don't get it. The disciples still have a long way to go. And that's all part of what the Gospels have to tell us about how human striving has strayed far from what God in Christ most wants, most desires for us. Which brings us to the reading from the Epistle to the Romans, in which Paul is working to get his readers to set aside their old assumptions and old dividing lines, just as he himself had to do some 20 years earlier when he was struck down by grace on the road to Emmaus. Paul writes, the Scripture says, no one who believes in Him will be put to shame. For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek. The same Lord is Lord of all and is generous to all who call on Him. For everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved. That moment you might be reminded of a verse from the Epistle to the Galatians where Paul sets out an even more thoroughgoing version of this message. There is no longer Jew or Greek. There's no longer slave or free. There's no longer male or female. For you all are one in Christ Jesus. Here in Romans, he's writing to the young church in Rome and his focus is sharp. There's no distinction between Jew and Greek. The same Lord is Lord of all and is generous to all who call on Him. This reflects a core concern in the Epistle to the Romans. Namely, that there is but one Lord generous to all who call upon Him. The old dividing lines between Jew and Gentile have been taken down, down, in and through Jesus. The Gentiles, that would be probably all of us, right? The Gentiles are, in Paul's words, the wild olive shoots that have been grafted on to the olive tree that is Israel. The old divisions, Paul wants to insist, are gone. And, and this is a very important and, in light of what Paul has to say in this Epistle, there is absolutely no room for anti-Semitism. No room for all of the prejudices that have been harbored against the Jewish people by Christians for some 2,000 years. No room. We are the wild olive shoot grafted on to the solid tree that is Israel. In his commentary on Romans, Paul Achtemeyer writes, the same God is Lord of all races. The same God lavishes the riches of His mercy on all peoples alike. The same God proves His trustworthiness by delivering them from their bondage to sin and rebellion. All who call upon Him in the trust that He is trustworthy and He will maintain them in His love. The same God is Lord of all races. And the sooner we get that firmly into our imaginations, the better. Now, this community of St. Ben's has some unique expressions, practices, ways of doing things. We do some of those things quite unlike what you might find in the average, everyday Anglican parish somewhere in another neighborhood. Fine. The uniqueness is fine. There's a path that many find meaningful and rich here. We gather Sunday by Sunday. And that's glorious. But, as Robert Ferrer Capon once said to me about matters of liturgical practice, and I should say that Capon was actually quite high church, quite Catholic in his Anglican practice. But he said, I'm as free to do without these things as you are to do with them. We're all free. We must remember what it is. It are practices. It doesn't do anything. Christ does it all. It's not magic. It's not conjuring. It's not getting anywhere. It is an awareness of the fact that you have been brought to the destination. That's the central thing that finally dawned fully on Simon Peter on the day of Pentecost. Christ has done it all. And all Peter needed to do was to accept that truth. Of course, it so invigorated him that he needed to share the Good News with anyone who would sit still long enough for him to talk. Peter begins by preaching to all of those Jewish folks who've come to Jerusalem from all places around the Mediterranean that day of Pentecost. And soon enough, Peter will be sharing with anyone and everyone who will listen to him, whether Jew or Gentile. Peter knew in the light of Pentecost that he could step out, metaphorically, step out from any boat onto any sea, and he'd find the risen, ascended Christ right there with him, keeping him from fear, and holding him tight even in the midst of the toughest of times. And that, you see, is grace. That's why we're here. And that's why I will begin preaching in the first place. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.