TEXT: Matthew 14:22-33

Except on rare occasions of illness or special circumstance, I have been in church every Sunday for 40 years. And over that time, I've been involved with a variety of churches...Baptist... both American Baptist and Southern Baptist, Assemblies of God, Roman Catholic, Presbyterian, Quaker, Church of God, Episcopalian, and of course, United Methodist. Across time and denomination, I have heard a number of sermons about this passage from Matthew where Jesus walks on water and then invites Peter to do the same. But in all of those denominations and all of those sermons, I have heard only one that did not focus on Peter's failure.

That's not to say that we can't learn from Peter, who finds himself sinking into stormy seas when he begins to doubt Jesus. But if we only focus on the moment that Peter sinks, we will have missed the most wonderful and promising part of the story. The story of Jesus walking on the water occurs in three of the four gospels. But it is only in Matthew that we have the addition of the part about Peter asking Jesus to call him and Peter's subsequent swimming lesson. In fact, it is from this story of Peter that we get the very often quoted phrase, "O ye of little faith."

We can focus on that phrase if we want to, and it seems like most of the church does. When we were looking for clip art to show this scene, it always showed Peter in the process of sinking and reaching to Jesus for help. That's not the whole story. I want to encourage us to put the failure aside for a time and look at the promise.

Peter walks on the water. He walks on the water just like Jesus. He sinks after a few steps, yes. But for a brief moment, Peter walked on water. Peter showed great faith in getting out of the boat and going to Jesus. The reason he sinks is not because it was wrong to get out of the boat. Peter only sinks when that faith waivers. The greatest failure in this story is not Peter but the rest of the disciples, who sat huddled in the boat, still wondering if they were seeing a ghost.

Peter's faith may have been weak, but it was much stronger than the rest of the bunch. Peter had boldness. All of the disciples got safely to the other shore, but only Peter walked on water. How much we have missed if we only remember that Peter sank. This is a passage of promise: If you respond in faith to the call of God, you can walk on water. The lesson? If you want to walk on the water, you've got to get out of the boat.

How the church today needs that message! We talk about wanting to work miracles, wanting to do great things for Christ. But yet we don't want to compromise the comfort and safety of the boat. It can't happen. Miracles, just by definition, are risky--they defy what we believe to be the usual order of things. We can't walk on water without getting out of the boat, without taking the risk.

Miracles are not a result of practical living and common sense. Miracles make no sense at all. In fact, none of our faith makes sense to the folks still sitting in the boat. Babies born to virgins don't make sense. Empty tombs don't make sense. Choosing death in order to live doesn't make sense. Ruling by serving doesn't make sense. Being first by bringing up the rear doesn't make sense. And it sure doesn't make sense to step out of a perfectly good boat at the height of a storm.

But there stands Jesus, outside the boat, making no sense by standing on top of water that should be sending him to Davy Jones' Locker. He doesn't come to us in the way we would expect...rowing up in another boat. He's walking on the water. And instead of leaping into the boat with us and saying, "How's it going, guys?" he stops outside of the boat, standing on the water, and calls us to come. Jesus doesn't chide the others for staying in the boat, but later it is Peter to whom Jesus says, "You are the rock on which I will build my church." The church is founded on the one who dared to get out of the boat.

Now, I don't need to tell you that New England folks are not known for risk taking. My father's ancestors came from Scotland and were much more likely to bury their talent than invest it in risky endeavors. My mother's family were all Swamp Yankee fishermen who had enough horse sense to stay in the boat during a storm. So I want to be clear before I go much farther, that I'm not talking about taking risks just for the sake of adventure. That was the temptation of Jesus in the wilderness when Satan tried to get him to jump off the temple and have the angels dash to his rescue. You are not going to find me bungee jumping, cliff diving, participating in extreme sports, or taking any vacation without a better than 50/50 shot at returning. This is not about putting what God has given to us in jeopardy as an invitation for God to strut His stuff.

Peter does take an incredible risk in getting out of a boat on a dark and stormy night. But the key here is, he doesn't put out the first toe until Jesus has said to him, "Come." If Jesus is not anywhere near our boat, we would be crazy to get out and try to walk on water. We can't do that on our own. But when God appears on the scene, new possibilities open before us and we listen for the guidance of God. And if God says it's OK, you can take that to the bank. We are not called to be reckless, but we are called to trust. The problem is, our world does not live by trust.

Our watchwords today are words like "protection," "security," "safe." Whether it is law enforcement, health care, social programs or financial investment we hear those words as organizations describe their goals and objectives. We must protect our children, make sure social security funding is protected; we have safe schools and want to guard our investments. And there's nothing wrong with any of that. But when we let our concern for security and safety spill over into our faith, our faith vanishes and we sink into the sea.

Faith means nothing if it does not mean risk. Faith and trust go hand in hand, and that means so do faith and risk because trust is a risky business. You can tell me that you trust me to hold your money until you're blue in the face, but until you have actually put the money into my hands, you haven't really trusted. It's the same with faith. You can say, "Oh, I have faith in God" all you want, but until you get out of the boat, it's only so much hot air.

"There is nothing more important than God," we say. "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me" we quote. "With God all things are possible." We shout it again and again as we sit comfortably in our boats, calling the ones who talk of getting out "foolish" and "impractical." And we look at those who do get out of the boat and we condemn their lack of faith if they start to sink, completely unaware that even as they sink to the bottom of the sea, their faith is greater than ours. We have no business claiming we have any faith whatsoever until we have been willing to get out of the boat when Jesus calls.

I came back to New England from Florida because God called me to come. Having my family here was a nice bonus, but that is not why I came. I came at the call of God that said, "Your people in New England don't know God...go and do something about it." Without that call, I would never have stepped out of my Florida boat. It took me three years to respond, but God was both patient and persistent. I did finally get out of the boat, and when I got to shore, I was at St. John's. I love it here. This is a wonderful church full of wonderful people and I thank God every single day for the opportunity to serve here. But my calling here is not to fill the boat with cushions and make it comfortable. My calling here is to help you hear the voice of Jesus saying, "Come...get out of the boat."

The call of God to all of us is the same now as it ever was, "Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you." That is the reason I am in ministry, that is the reason I am in New England, and that is the reason that the church exists as an organization. The church exists to make disciples and in the day we forget that we cease to be a church and become a cruise liner, trying to make sure that the passengers are comfortable and have a good time. The church is called to make disciples, and that calling, in today's world, takes resources.

We chose this passage as the theme for the stewardship campaign, because as each area of church leadership has examined their own role in making disciples, we discovered that our current resources are inadequate to the task. With our current level of resources we can provide some limited sustenance for the disciples already in training here at St. John's, but we could not reach out beyond our doors. As we looked at what it would take to do that, we realized that we were asking for a miracle. We weren't just asking the church to row a little harder, we were asking the church to get out of the boat entirely and walk on water.

We are asking that as you consider your pledge for the coming year, you listen for the guidance of God and follow that leading in faith...that you give of the firstfruits, not just of what's left over. To introduce God to those who don't know him is a complex task that needs a multi-faceted approach. We will need innovations in education, in worship, and in our forms of witness and outreach. This church has extremely talented and devoted leadership. I am impressed every time I go to a meeting. With God's help, we are able to fulfill our calling. But, if you want to walk on the water, you've got to get out of the boat and give in a way that reflects the huge need around us.

We don't believe that is recklessness...we believe it is the call of God. This church has got to grow...not because there is some sort of extra holiness in numbers, but because there are an enormous number of people right here in Dover who haven't the foggiest notion of who God is or how much peace they could have if they found out. Has God ever helped you? Has prayer ever made life a little more bearable? Have you ever found real comfort in your faith? Is it really fair to keep that good news hidden inside church walls and hope that whoever needs it will happen to wander in? If you want to walk on the water, you've got to get out of the boat.

I hope you are getting the sense by now that I am not one to bang people on the head with Bibles or threaten those made in God's image with the fires of hell. But I am one who believes that there is no better way to live life than with God, and my heart breaks for those who haven't figured that out yet. I want to make disciples for Jesus Christ, not so much to save them from hell as to save them from themselves. That is my calling, it is also the calling of St. John's and of every church that bears the name of Jesus Christ.

A quote I love says, "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 raging 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 the church was built on Peter, not the others. Can you hear the voice of Jesus saying, "Come?" If you want to walk on the water, you've got to get out of the boat.

Amen.

(c) 1999, Anne Robertson