Discerning Jesus in the Storm
based on Matthew 14:22-33
Rev. Karen A. Goltz

            A few years ago I had the privilege of serving as chaplain for family camp at a Lutheran Bible Camp.  One of my duties was to lead bible study each morning at the conference center.  We had a pretty good turn-out, with a core group of about eight or so people who showed up every day, and several others who came sometimes.  As is usually the case, one of the regular attendees was a real character.  You know the type—a real joker with a heart of gold who gives everyone a hard time and is disappointed if we don't give him one back, and who always asks these blunt, direct questions and expects blunt, direct answers in return.  On Friday, the last day of bible study, he complained that all the answers to his questions were abstract, and he didn't do well with abstract.

            His complaint was valid.  But there wasn't much I could do about it.  His questions were mostly seeking clear, concrete directions on what to do in certain situations.  But the situations he was concerned about aren't directly addressed in the bible; all we had were broad statements by Jesus that we're left to interpret what they mean for us today.

            Take today's gospel lesson, for example.  We have Peter and the other disciples in a boat in the middle of the night, with a storm raging around them.  Jesus has gone off to pray, and, having finished, is walking across the water to catch up with the boat.  The disciples see him and are terrified, thinking maybe they're seeing a ghost, at which point he tells them that it's him, and not to be afraid.  Peter asks him to prove it by calling him out on the water, and Jesus says, "OK, come on."  So Peter steps out of the boat and starts walking on the water toward Jesus, but partway there notices the storm, gets scared, and starts to sink.  In his fear he cries out to Jesus for help, and Jesus reaches out a hand and saves him.  Jesus says, "You of little faith, why did you doubt?"  Then they both get back into the boat, everyone worships him and calls him the Son of God, and they continue on their way.

            It's an abstract story, and we tend to interpret it abstractly.  We take from this story that we're supposed to be like Peter and ask for Jesus' command or will.  Once we receive it we're to step out in faith, even when we're called to do something seemingly impossible like walking on water.  If we take our eyes off Jesus and let ourselves worry about other things around us, we'll begin to sink or fail, but even then if we call out to Jesus for help, he'll be there, and he won't let us fall, because he is the Son of God.  That's our lesson for today.

            OK.  Great.  Let's get started.  First off, how do I ask Jesus to tell me his will?  That's easy—pray.  No problem.  [PRAY]  Jesus, tell me what you want me to do.  [MAKE A SHOW OF WAITING]  I didn't hear anything.  Did you?  So now what?  This is where we fall down.  In the absence of a voice or a burning bush giving us specific marching orders, we're left with a process of discernment.  But that gets tricky, because there are so many factors influencing our decisions that we can never be sure what's God, and what's our own preferences and desires.  So we default to the abstract answers that so frustrated my bible study participant.  We say that in a general sense we know that God is calling us to live in faith, and if we keep our eyes on him and keep faith in him, he'll get us through the storm.  So what?  What does that do for us?  We're still left with a nice story that seems to give great instructions on what to do if you're ever in a boat in a stormy sea and you see Jesus walking towards you on the water, but, barring that particular situation, it's still just a nice story.

            I don't think God intends it to be just a nice story.  I think he means for us to take that discernment seriously.  So we look at the big, once-in-a-lifetime situations.  You're stuck in a dead-end, soul-sucking, relatively well-paying job in a career field you never liked, and you feel called to do something else, maybe something that gives something back to society.  So, using this story as your guide, you believe that Jesus is calling you to do this other thing.  It seems impossible, but you step out in faith, leaving the security of the job you don't like in order to go back to school, retrain, and become a less-well-paid teacher, or nurse, or social worker, or even pastor.  It's a scary, stormy, turbulent transition, and you cry out in fear many times, "Lord, save me!"  But Jesus is there, and sees you through, and it all works out.

            Or you're looking for a place to worship, and you join this mission congregation that doesn't even have its own sanctuary.  Over time you feel called to get your own building, even though it's such a huge undertaking.  It seems impossible, but you step out in faith and do it, trusting that God will provide when you can't see how it can possibly come together.  You have some rough times before it's done.  But, because Jesus is the Son of God and he's the one you're focusing on, it does come together.

            Those are great examples of how to apply today's gospel to our present situations, but they're not the only ones.  Discernment doesn't have to be limited to big, life-changing events.  God's acts in our lives don't have to be dramatic.  In fact, most of them aren't.  And much of what we're called to do seems small and insignificant, so small and insignificant that we often don't think it matters to God, so we don't bother trying to discern.

            You're standing with some of your coworkers around the watercooler at work, and one of them starts badmouthing another coworker who's not there, someone that nobody likes, including you.  In fact, you've got a personal grudge against this person, and you decide to share with everyone else what they've done to you to provoke your ire.  And all of you stand in solidarity, all accepted by each other because of your shared dislike of this other person.  We've all been in similar situations.  We know we shouldn't do it, but it's not like this person knows what we're saying, and it's not like we're spreading lies or anything.  We're only recounting the things this person has actually done; now they're reaping the consequences of their own actions.  This situation has nothing to do with today's gospel lesson.

            Unless it happens this way:  You're standing with some of your coworkers around the watercooler at work, and one of them starts badmouthing another coworker who's not there, someone that nobody likes, including you.  In fact, you've got a personal grudge against this person, but you know that Jesus meant it when he said "love your enemies," and that knowledge translates into the feeling that you should try to put a stop to this.  You don't want to; you really don't like the person, they did wrong you, after all, and these are people that you get along with pretty well.  But the current conversation doesn't mesh with the way you know you're supposed to live as a follower of Christ, so you step out in faith.  Not only do you not share your grudge with everyone else, you suggest that maybe you all shouldn't be badmouthing this person.  You even go so far as to point out a characteristic about this person that is positive.  It may take you a while to think of one, but eventually you do, and you defend this person to your coworkers as someone who should be treated with more respect.  Maybe your coworkers are polite and follow your suggestion and change the subject, but some of them look at you funny.  Maybe they feel judged and chastised by you, and they resent you for that.  You know they're wondering whether you're going to run to this person and tell them everything that's been said.  You begin to notice that your coworkers aren't treating you the same as they used to; you even suspect that now you've become the topic of watercooler gossip.  Who does he think he is, anyway?  In the meantime, the person you defended is just as difficult to work with as ever, callously rejecting any friendly gestures you've made.  You notice all this and wonder if it's worth it, does it really matter?  And you wait for things to get better, for Jesus to calm the storm, knowing that you could calm it yourself by just badmouthing that annoying coworker at the watercooler.  But you also know that that's not what you're called to do.  So you continue to wait, and wait, and wait, remembering that Peter got an instant response, wondering why you're still waiting.  Weeks go by, months go by, maybe things blow over, maybe they don't.  Either way, your relationship with your coworkers is never the same as it was.  They don't let you in as much; they keep you at a distance.  But you get through it.  And then you remember.  Peter was sinking when Jesus saved him.  I don't know how deep he sank—up to his knees?  Up to his waist?  Maybe up to his neck?  And when Jesus pulled him up and they got into the boat, he was wet.  And cold.  And probably shaken from his experience.  He was not unaffected by it.  And neither are we.

            Being a disciple of Christ changes who we are, how we act.  I think it's easy for us to apply these lessons to the big events in life because they don't happen that often.  Some of us may never be in a situation where we're called to step out in faith in a big way.  But remembering that everything we do in every aspect of our lives is a response to Christ's call to follow him is a lot more challenging.  How does your relationship with Christ affect your relationships, close and casual?  How does it affect your time?  How does it affect your budget?  There is no aspect of our lives that Christ doesn't claim, and there is no aspect of our lives in which Christ isn't there for us.  We will have times when we misinterpret our call and step in the wrong direction.  But Christ will be there then, too, ready to save us and help get us back on our feet.  Following him is no easy path; it's no guarantee of riches and success.  In fact, following Christ steers us away from what the world covets and considers successful.  It will be stormy; it will be frightening; we will have times when we feel like we're sinking and we cry out in despair.  But in every instance, Jesus will be there to hear our cry, and he will raise us up and he will see us safely back in the boat, maybe wet, maybe cold, maybe shaken, but in the presence of the one who alone can calm the storm.  And it is only when we have obediently responded to Christ's call that we can truly say we know the Son of God, and worship him.  Amen.