Reverend Ellie
August 7, 2011
Main Post Chapel
Matthew 14:22-33
“It’s just like riding a bike”
For my 7th birthday, I received a bright orange bicycle with a long banana boat seat. This was a major step up from the bike that I had as a six year old, because this new bicycle did not have any training wheels. Much to my dismay, no training wheels could be fitted on this bike because it was too big. If I wanted to ride my new present I had one choice: to ride without any safety net, something that I had never attempted before.
I remember the saturday morning when my father and I went out into our cul-de-sac so I could learn to ride my new bike. Before I began to pedal, in fact, before I even agreed to get on the bike, I gave my father a serious talking to. Under no circumstances would he be permitted ever to let go of me. No matter how well I pedaled or how fast I went, no matter what, he had to promise to stay there by my side. With his compliance, I mounted the bike. As I began to pedal, I couldn’t help but continue to remind my dad not to let go of me. Even though he was there, even though I could feel him literally holding me, I couldn’t stop myself from looking back and demanding that he keep his promise. Because I kept turning around to talk to my him, I didn’t go very far nor very fast. That was good news for my dad. He easily kept up with me.
As the day wore on, I found a little more courage and stopped looking back at my dad. After all, he had not failed me yet, so maybe he didn’t need my incessant reminders. As I began to pedal faster and faster, my dad had to run to stay with me. He hardly needed to hold me at all. Still, as long as I felt him, I didn’t think I was on my own. Soon, I was riding my bike all by myself. It was amazing. But then I realized, I was riding my bike all by myself. With this sudden awareness, I panicked and instead of pedaling, turned around to look for my father. I could no longer feel my dad holding me, to my surprise, he was still there just as he had promised. And, as I began to cry out and fall, he caught me.
Why did you doubt? Jesus asks. It’s a pretty simple question. After all, Jesus had given no indication at any point that there should be a reason to doubt. Peter’s experiences of Jesus up to this moment were all trustworthy. Jesus had already healed quite a few people, calmed a storm, restored the life of Jarius’ daughter, gave sight back to the blind, taught time and again about faithfulness, and turned water to wine and a few loaves and fishes into enough for a meal which fed a few thousand. In all the history that Peter and Jesus have together, there wasn’t a slip of trust or an incident which would merit a loss of faith. But, in Peter’s defense, Jesus was a human being. Just because he had been dependable SO FAR what would stop him from deviating in the future. More to the point, those waves were tall and relentless. They had been battering the boat all night without reprieve. And, the wind was fierce, potentially strong enough to capsize the boat so certainly able to engulf a mere man.
It’s pretty obvious why Peter had his doubts. And, I don’t think his doubts were overtly about Jesus. Peter’s doubts overtake him because his attention and focus on his circumstances, the wind and waves and water, became more important, more pressing, than his trust in his friend and teacher. As Jesus and the memory of their history together sank more into the backdrop, the danger and fear of the moment overcame Peter. He couldn’t see or remember anything else but the terrible wind and waves. He was completely overwhelmed. And, as we all might imagine, when the wind and waves surrounded him, and he lost sight of God’s presence, God’s promise to him, God’s trustworthiness, and he began to sink.
This seems to be the story of our lives. We have these moments of deep, abiding clarity where our faith is so strong that we step out of the safety of our boat and tackle the impossible. We hear the call of Jesus, and we say “Yes, Lord. Here I am.” With surprising eagerness, we follow Jesus into places and circumstances that are not easy. We go along for a while, even in the stormy water. But, like a thief which comes in the night, that faith which compelled us to follow, to believe in God’s goodness, is stolen by all the stuff which presses in on us.
“It’s cancer, and there is nothing we can do.”
“I want a divorce. I just don’t love you anymore.”
“I regret to inform you that your son has been killed.”
“Your position has been terminated.”
“We have lost our home. There is nothing left.”
I don’t think Jesus asks Peter about his doubts because he is judging Peter’s lack of faith or shaming him for being weak in the midst of the wind and the waves. Jesus knows all to well Peter’s limitations as a human being. He himself came into the world to live and to feel and to know that part of the human experience has to do with limitations, our limited vision and capacity, our propensity to forget God’s goodness, God’s faithfulness when we are in a dark and lonely wilderness. Jesus knows this all too well because he is one of us. I think Jesus asks Peter why he doubted because he wants to help Peter learn something important in this moment. The moment that Peter begins to sink, the moment that Peter cries, “Save me Lord,” Jesus makes his presence known. Immediately, he reaches out and catches a flailing, sinking Peter. As Jesus catches Peter, at the same time, he asks, “Why did you doubt?” Jesus is there to save Peter though Peter has lost his sight, perhaps even lost his faith. And, Jesus will be there again, every time that Peter calls out. He will be there even when Peter is silent. Jesus asks the question because he wants Peter to remember this.
Jesus knows that more storms are coming, with even stronger winds and mightier waves which will surely capsize the boat and threaten to destroy everything that is precious to the disciples. Jesus asks him why he doubts because, knowing what it means to be human, he knows that Peter’s faith will be put to the test again. He knows that Peter will lose sight of him. He knows the anguish Peter and his disciples will experience because of the cross, because of his death and seeming defeat. He wants them to remember that even when it seems that the storms of life have overtaken them and Jesus is no where in sight, even then, he is there, ready to catch them, always ready to save. He is holding on to us even when we can’t feel him anymore.
I don’t know about you, but most days I am really thankful that there are so many stories about Peter in the Bible, especially stories about his doubts and fears and stumbles and falls. Sometimes I can feel so discouraged because, despite the fact that at times I have caught a glimpse of the God’s steadfast love or I have witnessed God’s faithfulness, I still find myself sinking into the great sea, crying out, “Lord, save me.” I have known momentarily the peace of true faith but still, the storms that come from no where, the gnawing doubt and fear I have of the future and just what may come of my life, these things still threaten to undo me on some days. In my stumbles and falls, when my faith fades into the background and only my fear and doubt remain, I do find great comfort that God continues to love me, to reach out to me and catch me, to call me by name, into service and as a witness to the good news of this gospel. Just like Peter, the rock upon which our church was built. Peter, a limited human being, who failed to be there for Jesus in his most needy hour, who fell asleep in the garden and then who denied him three times. Nonetheless, it is Peter who is called upon by Jesus to spread this good news.
And it is also us. Us who doubt. Us who question. Us, who in one moment have courage and in the next fall flat, it is all of us who, like Peter, are called to feed sheep, called to share our love, called simply to remember just who is there and has been there all along to catch us when we fall. Faith doesn’t go away because our doubts and fears cloud our vision. Faith is not forgotten forever when it seems lost or broken. Faith is a part of us that we don’t forget no matter how much time has past, kind of like riding a bike. When we have learned it, when it has become imbedded in our hearts and minds, our falls can never erase it. Even years of setting it aside do not make it null. It is there because God is there. We may not always be able to see or feel God’s presence, but our inability to see or feel does not dictate God’s ability to keep a promise.
“Why do you doubt?” we are asked. “Remember, I am with you always, to the ends of the ages.” May it be so. Amen
*Posted with permisson from Ellie. I have not edited or changed her sermon in any way other than changing her name.
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