Thursday, September 8, 2011

Sermon
August 7, 2011
Lynne Coates
Genesis 37:1-4, 12-28; Psalm 105:1-6, 16-22; 45b; Romans 10:5-15; Matthew 14:22-33

In the name of God: Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer. Amen

I have a story. A young priest passed a beggar on the sidewalk and decided that the $20 he had just gotten from the ATM would be better spent on the beggar. So put the $20 in the envelope and, deciding to give him a bit of inspiration along with the money, wrote on the envelope in large letters. "PERSEVERE!" He slipped the envelope to the man as he walked past him. The next day, the priest passed the beggar again, and the beggar jumped up and handed the priest a big wad of bills. Surprised, the young priest asked him what that was for? The man replied, “This is your half of the winnings. PERSEVERE came in first in the fourth race at the track yesterday, and he paid 30 to one. Perseverance may have a bit to do with the sermon. But, mainly, I just liked the story.

Faith is a belief in the trustworthiness of something that has not been proven. In order to live into that trust, like Peter in today’s gospel, we have to be willing to leave the security of the boat.

Peter might be my favorite disciple. He is at times, egotistical, mouthy, ignorant, cocky, pig-headed, and when he opens his mouth, as we said in the 60s, he often inserts his foot. He is also the essential follower of Jesus. He is the disciple, the rock, on which Jesus is said to have placed his church. When we look at Peter before the Resurrection, we see a man who is often afraid to stand up for what he believes, who denies the person he claims to love above all others, and who goes into hiding in fear with the other ragtag Jesus-followers. After the Resurrection, we see Peter as a man with new vision, one who is willing to sustain persecution, even death, for his beliefs. In fact, the radical change in behavior of all the disciples following the Resurrection is to me the most compelling evidence that the Resurrection did take place. But that’s for another sermon.

In today’s gospel, we see a hint of the faith of Peter who is willing to take a risk and get out of the boat. This is a story of faith and challenge and a call to obedience which Henri Nouwen defined as “attentive listening - to the movements of the Spirit of God within us.”

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German Lutheran pastor, theologian and martyr in the resistance movement in Germany during World War ll, said that if Peter had not taken the risk and had not gotten out of boat, he would perhaps never have learned the meaning of faith that he demonstrated so clearly after the Resurrection. In his book The Cost of Discipleship, Bonhoeffer said that unless a definite step is demanded and acted upon, the call to discipleship can vanish into thin air. What this means, I think,  is to follow the two commandments of Jesus as stated in Matthew – love God and love my neighbor and be willing to act faithfully on whatever derives from that.

A bit about Bonhoeffer: In 1939, he went to the United States to teach at Union Theological Seminary. It appeared to be a good move since he had been active in the resistance movement against Hitler in Germany. He could wait out the war in safety, teaching and preaching what he believed. But later, as he wrote to Reinhold Niebuhr: "I have come to the conclusion that I made a mistake in coming to America. I cannot in good conscience remain in safety while my people are fighting for their very civilization. I cannot choose to fight with them from the security of living in the United States.” And so he returned to Germany on the last scheduled steamer to cross the Atlantic, knowing that he would in all probability be arrested and ultimately executed. He was.

God may not call us to be Christian martyrs, but I believe that God does call us to be faithful, by loving God and others. These commandments require, I think, action on our part. Faith, I believe, is not a feeling, but an action. It’s what we do. It’s what we choose to do because we know it is in keeping with God’s call to us. It may be as simple as sending cards to those who are ill or grieving. We may visit shut-ins. We may give time and talent where it is needed, even when it is inconvenient or sacrificial.  We may be willing to step out of our routine into something that feels uncomfortable because we know it’s the right thing to do.

Peter calls out to Jesus and Jesus calls back, “Come.” When Peter gets out of the boat he is being faithful to Jesus’ calling. This illustrates what we have come to call “stepping out in faith.” Literally in this case. This may have been a defining moment for Peter, as Bonhoeffer said, such that after the Resurrection, he could call on that faith to become the apostle on which our church is built. The church is founded on those who dared to get out of the boat.

God calls us always to do the next right thing.

For people who hid Jews during World War II this was the next right thing. People in every European country were willing to take in Jews who were escaping from Nazi persecution and death. Those who took the heavy risks of hiding Jews could incur the same kinds of persecution and punishment and even death that the Jews themselves were subject to. Many of those who took such risks were killed, sent to concentration camps, or had their homes and belongings burned. Hiding Jews also entailed grave consequences for their family and social life. Their children were generally forbidden to speak about the "guest" and could not bring friends home from school; often the families themselves could not receive visitors. Moreover, food and clothes became scarce and families had limited resources. These were faithful people, willing to follow what they believed God was asking them to do.

“Getting out of the boat” is a phrase that can mean doing something that takes effort, that feels uncomfortable, because it’s the right thing to do.
The opposite of stepping out in faith, or stepping out of the boat, is backing away in fear. Making choices based on fear keeps us locked up, sometimes literally, in our houses. It keeps us prisoners from life in the world.

Here is what may seem to be a trivial example from my life when I recently backed away from doing something hard.

I was urged to join a group at Westminster-Canterbury called the Golden Tappers. Now, I had never in my life tap-danced. You can ask Bobby, our choir director, how much I hate to do the dances for our fall musicals. But I bought tap shoes and went to practice every Friday for an hour. It is good exercise, and I was sweating along with the rest of them. Then I heard that we would be doing a complicated routine on stage for the Follies. The Follies at Westminster-Canterbury is one of our largest events and a fund-raiser for the scholarship fund. Now some of you may have been willing to pay to see me tap dance in costume, but it was not to be. I made the decision to drop out about month before the Follies. I think there is a “disconnect” between my brain and my feet. When my Cursillo group would ask, “Are you having fun?” I would always say, “Not yet.” There were others in the Golden Tappers who claimed to be as challenged as I was, and I’m embarrassed to tell you that every one of them is older than I am. They stayed the course. I didn’t.  So, you could say that I was willing to dangle my foot in the water, but I couldn’t make myself get out of the boat. Now, I don’t think that God is seriously disappointed in me for failing to tap dance at the Follies, but I disappointed myself.

In the Genesis reading for today and in the Psalms, Joseph is featured. Remember that Joseph was sold into slavery in Egypt by a group of men who had bought him from Joseph’s brothers. Joseph’s tenure in Egypt is recounted as difficult labor and imprisonment. Through all that he stayed faithful to God, and he worked hard in captivity, and that landed him a favored position as second in command in the land of his captivity. Joseph later was able to be generous and forgiving to the very brothers who had betrayed him.

Most of us are not going to be sold into slavery or go bungee jumping or sky diving or even tap dancing.  We are not called to be reckless or to perform on stage. We are called to trust. What will that mean to you?  
Jesus calls us in discipleship, to reach out to others, to forge relationships. We cannot know how important that reaching out can be.

Years ago, when I taught at a middle school, a few of us found ourselves at the house of one of our teachers on a Friday afternoon. We were trying to cheer him up because his wife had left him quite unexpectedly.  And so we sat around and commiserated about the week at school, as I’m sure those who still work do on a Friday afternoon. I was the last one to leave. Something told me to say something encouraging to Joe (not his name). I felt uncomfortable about it. It wasn’t my business, I told myself. But I believe that God kept nudging me to say something. I told Joe that I was glad he had opened his home to all of us, and I hoped he would do this again, maybe as a weekly offering. I told him that his friendship was important to me, and I counted on it. We did go on to meet just about every Friday at Joe’s house. About a year later, Joe confided in me. He said that first Friday, he was waiting impatiently for all of us to leave, because he was considering ending his life. What I had said to him caused him to reconsider. He went on to open his home every Friday afternoon for years, and we all had some great times together.

I offer this up, not to pat myself on the back. It was a simple thing that I did. The point of the story is that we never know who among us needs to be encouraged, to be loved, to be offered friendship. When we have a chance, reach out. It is a way to get out of our own boats.                                                                                    

The church is here to help us be disciples and by example make disciples, and in the day we forget that, we cease to be a church and become a kind of cruise liner, trying to make sure that we are all comfortable and have a good time. 

Maybe God is calling you to a new ministry within the church, or a new job, or a new attitude. I hate it when God asks me to risk a new attitude. I like my old ones! I’m also comfortable doing crossword puzzles and watching The Young and the Restless in the afternoons. But I think God is calling me to better stewardship of my time. Stewardship always seems risky because we believe that if we give more of what we have, there won’t be enough left for us, but we will find that when God directs us to the road less-traveled, there will always enough spiritual resources  and even a lot left over.

Has God ever helped you?  Has prayer ever made life a little more bearable?  Have you ever found real comfort in your faith?  This week, there will be people who will get frightening calls from their doctors. Some will learn they’ve lost a job; some might realize their family is breaking up or might recognize the early signs of Alzheimer’s in themselves or a loved one.  Some might exchange hurtful words with a friend and wonder how to make it right.  Is it really fair to keep the good news of reconciliation and redemption hidden inside church walls and hope that whoever needs it may happen to wander in? 

Someone said, “A ship in a harbor is safe, but that’s not what ships are built for.”  God calls us to set sail.  And once we’re out on the sea, we see God and some new possibilities.  Jesus is on the water and bids us come.  Do we dare? 

God is patient with us when we can’t seem to leave the comfort of the boat.  But we remember: the church was built on Peter, the Peter Jesus knew before the Resurrection, who was willing to get out of the boat.
Amen











No comments:

Post a Comment