10 Pentecost A – August 13, 2017

10 Pentecost A – August 13, 2017

I was really excited when I read the gospel text for this morning, not because it is an easy text to preach but rather I was at the Sea of Galilee for three days where this story takes place. In January, I had the privilege to travel to the Holy Land with my seminary. We got to spend a few nights on the Sea of Galilee and for the first two days while we were there the sea was calm and wind was minimal. I sat one morning on the shore watching the sun rise over the sea and it was a view that I will never forget. On our last morning staying at the sea of galilee we were scheduled to take a boat ride but when we woke up that morning it was a bit windy. Our tour guide received a call that we would not be able to take our boat ride because of unsafe conditions. Unfortunately, we could not reschedule because we were leaving to head to our next stop. As we left we drove around the Sea of Galilee which is only about 3 miles wide and we were looking at the waters and realized the waves were not that large and we became confused as to why we could not take our boat ride. Many of us were grumbling and disappointed as we were clearly going to succeed at walking on the water just as Jesus did! My friend Kim and I were riding in the back of the tour bus grumbling together when she looks at me after peering out of the window and says, “What in the heck were the disciples so scared of if these are the biggest waves they get on the Sea of Galilee?”

I cannot definitively say what the disciples were so scared of but I imagine if a ghost looking person was walking towards me on the water I would be quite terrified as well! We often focus on the fact that Jesus was walking on water! How could he defy physics in such a way?!? But this morning I do not want to get caught up in the how but rather the boat that the disciples were in that had been battered by waves all night long. When Jesus approached the boat the disciples were exhausted, lacking faith, and spent the night on a rough sea being battered by the waves. The Greek word used here for battered is BAS-A-NIZO, literally meaning to torment or torture. All night long the disciples were being tormented by waves crashing into their boat and they were without Jesus. They had just fed 5,000 people and Jesus, as he often does, sent the disciples away so we could have some time alone to pray. I do not imagine it is an easy task to feed 5,000 people or to have crowds following you constantly. Maybe the disciples thought that when Jesus put them on this boat they would have a night of relaxation and quiet but they experienced anything but that. Their leader was not with them and they were being tormented… TORTURED by waves all night long. I am sure fear quickly set in and they began to wonder if Jesus would ever return for them or if they would survive the night of torment and torture. In ancient times, it was a pure act of God when the seas and storms were calmed so it is likely that the disciples were wondering if God was still present since the storm had been raging on all night.
Thinking about the disciples and their boat being battered by the waves I began to wonder what may be battering, tormenting, or torturing our boats. Like the disciples, we may experience sleepless nights of being battered, tormented, or tortured which exhausts us and our faith starts to lack. Our storms rage on and we wonder if God will ever show up to calm them. There are many realities in this world that can batter or torment us and one huge example of that is the racism and violence that is occurring in Charlottesville, NC. White supremacist groups have taken the streets in Charlottesville chanting old Nazi chants and carrying torches while also attacking people of color. Literal tormenting and battering is occurring on the streets of Charlottesville and I would be remiss if I did not speak out against these acts of violence and racism this morning. People of color in Charlottesville are terrified of the literal battering that is taking place against them. Clergy members standing in the way of these white supremacist and militia groups are terrified as they are watching battering coming their way. Children are fearing for their lives in Charlottesville wondering if there is a Jesus they can cry out to. The storm is raging on in Charlottesville and as a church of Christ we have the duty and call to speak out against the oppression and racism that is occurring. We have a system that is set up in which many of us have benefitted from including myself. Honestly, I did not know what I could say this morning in terms of Charlottesville as I am privileged merely because of my skin color while my siblings of color are hiding in fear of their lives seeking a God to stop the storm and calm the seas. I want to cry in exhaustion, anger and pain for the injustice I have been witnessing in this country but I… we… are called to do much more. We are called to stand in the face of violence and hate and speak the word of God’s love, inclusion, and peace. We are called to notice the places in which racism takes place and use our privilege to eradicate the racism that is occurring. We are called to seek peace and end division through the Word made Flesh who walked this earth and did just that. Yesterday I found myself hoping for Jesus to just come teach us all again and to show us how to respond in times of hate and racism when many are not speaking up at all.

Charlottesville is clearly experiencing a time of torment and it is my prayer that you can recognize the racism that is occurring and the torment that it is bringing people of color around the country but if you aren’t there yet maybe you can think about a time when you experienced your own night of torment on the rocky sea. Maybe this night of torment occurred because of oppression, lack of self-care, our past, negative societal messages, negative internal messages, addictions, our president’s tweets, comments or lack of comments, systemic oppression like homophobia, racism, classism, sexism, or any other ism. In whatever type of torment you can connect with this morning we begin to wonder “Jesus where are you?” “Are you coming back for me?” “Have you left me?” I imagine these are the questions running rapidly through many minds across America today especially in Charlottesville. There may even be one more question added to the list, “Church, where are you? Have you left us?” I hope this is never the question but I fear this is becoming a more popular question as it is easier to sit by idly as the storm rages on in front of us rather than reach out a hand to our drowning siblings and walk with them on this journey until the raging storm ceases. We need to walk with our siblings of color as their storm is raging on… as the church we are called to this act of peace seeking and justice because a community of people is being discriminated against, marginalized, and attacked simply because they were made in the image of God just like you and I. Yesterday, I found myself exhausted from reading tweets, Facebook status’, and news articles, the state of our country literally exhausted me and I am not in Charlottesville nor am I a person of color. I cannot begin to fathom the exhaustion they must be feeling. When Peter was experiencing so much exhaustion as he was walking on the water towards Jesus the only three words he could utter were “Lord, save me!” as he began to sink. Yesterday I felt as if that is all I could stand before you today and utter is “Lord, save us”, in our moments of exhaustion from the torment we have no words to even utter to Jesus. We are so exhausted to speak or lacking so much in faith that the last thing we want to do is call out to a Jesus who may or may not be there. And maybe none of the words I said earlier matter at all or they may add to your exhaustion but I think something we need to utter right now or something we only have enough energy to utter is “Lord, save us.” Lord save us from our racism that is rearing its ugly head once again. Lord save us from the divisions in this world that are causing so much pain. Lord, save us. In Peter’s moment of weakness and exhaustion Jesus provided his arm to keep Peter from sinking. Jesus didn’t tell Peter “Hey pull yourself up by your bootstraps” but rather immediately reaches out and supports Peter but Jesus did not stop there. Jesus got into the boat with the disciples. He didn’t give Peter a momentary hand out but rather continued to journey with Peter all the way back to the boat.

I think there is a great lesson in this for us as well. Jesus is still at work in this world through all of us to extend a hand to exhausted bodies and keep them from completely sinking. My seminary professor, Dr. Peterson, will often remind us that Martin Luther wrote that we are to be Little Christ’s to each other. While we do not have Jesus here in the flesh we are called to care for others and extend that grace and love that we have been shown through the example of Christ.  We are called to walk with each other back to our boats not to just give a quick and convenient Facebook status, tweet, or brief moment of prayer for the tragedies occurring in our world but to intentionally commit to a journey. Intentionally commit to end racism. Intentionally commit to ensure we recognize our privilege and the power it holds over others. We are to be intentional in our walk towards justice and peace. But this journey does not come easily as we are constantly navigating rocky waters and our boats are being tormented but Jesus is still alive in this world through the body of Christ offering a hand of refuge and committing to walk with us on our journey. We are all battered boats in need of Jesus walking calmly towards us on the rocky sea saying, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” The arms of God are wide and willing to welcome in all boats that have been battered and tormented and provide refuge and healing. So, let’s put our faith in the fact that if we take this step from boats on to the rocky waters that have been tormenting us we know Jesus will be there, in each of you, even when we may not know how to swim and the only words we can utter out of exhaustion are “Lord, save me”.