Sermon for Sunday, August 13, 2023 || Proper 14A || Romans 10:5-15; Matthew 14:22-33

Out of all the characters in the Gospel, Peter has got to be the most relatable. At various points in the story, Peter is impetuous and confused and terrified and insightful and ignorant and, in today’s story, waterlogged. Across the narrative, Peter rarely comes off as a hero. I’ve always found Peter’s characterization fascinating because Peter was one of the most powerful people in the early church. If he had wanted to, he could have rewritten his own history to make himself appear more heroic. But he didn’t. He let the record stand, warts and all. This most powerful person in the early church shows up in the story of the Gospel as a regular guy, who’s stumbling around trying to follow Jesus, just like the rest of us.

In this morning’s story, a storm batters the disciples’ boat far from land. The Sea of Galilee is still known to this day for its freak weather patterns. Because of its unique geography, storms can rise up out of nowhere and dissipate just as quickly. Such a storm takes the disciples away from Jesus while he’s praying on the mountain. Early the next morning, Jesus walks across the sea to meet his friends. They think he’s a ghost, but he announces himself and then says the most common phrase in the entire Bible: “Do not be afraid.”

Still Peter is not convinced. “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water,” he says. And, surprisingly, Jesus says, “Come.” This is surprising because pretty much every other time someone asks Jesus to prove who he is, Jesus rebuffs them. This includes Satan during Jesus temptation: “If you are the Son of God” make bread out of these stones; throw yourself from the temple’s heights. This also includes the high priest and bystanders during his crucifixion: “If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross.” 

But for some reason, Jesus agrees to Peter’s demand. I think Jesus senses a teachable moment for Peter, for the other disciples, and for us. So Jesus says, “Come.” All is going well as Peter steps onto the water, keeping his eyes trained on Jesus. He starts walking. But then he “notices” the strong wind. He gets scared. He starts to sink. And this is the moment when he cries out, “Lord, save me!”

I told you Peter was relatable. How common is it for us NOT to call out to God until we find ourselves in a time of crisis? How common is it for us to ignore our part in our relationships with God until a family member gets really sick or we’re stranded somewhere in the middle of the night or we’re facing a life-altering decision? How common is it for us to treat God like Divine 9-1-1?

Unless your spouse is a 9-1-1 operator, you probably don’t have a lasting relationship with that particular person. You might call 9-1-1 maybe a handful of times in your entire life. The call is short and to the point and results, hopefully, in emergency services arriving as soon as possible.

God is not Divine 9-1-1. We believe God is fully present in every moment of our lives, both the mundane and critical. When someone asks, “Where is God in all of this?” the answer is always, “Right here, walking alongside us. Right here, going through the muck with us. Right here, reaching out a hand when we’re drowning in stormy seas.” Depending on what we’re dealing with, this answer might not make us feel better, by the way. But it’s still true. Jesus doesn’t promise a life without hardship. Jesus promises to be with us always, in the midst of hardship; always, until the end of the ages.

We can remember this beautiful promise today with words that St. Paul pulls into his letter to the Romans from all the way back in the book of Deuteronomy. As Moses looks out at the Promised Land that he himself will not enter, he offers the Israelites many words of wisdom. He reminds them that God will give them the strength and will to fulfill God’s commandment, the commandment to love God with all their hearts and souls.

Moses says, ““Surely, this commandment that I am commanding you today is not too hard for you, nor is it too far away. It is not in heaven, that you should say, ‘Who will go up to heaven for us and get it for us so that we may hear it and observe it?’ Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, ‘Who will cross to the other side of the sea for us and get it for us so that we may hear it and observe it?’ No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe.” (Deuteronomy 30:11-14)

It is this last verse that Paul quotes in his letter to the Romans: ““The word is near you, on your lips and in your heart.” We do not need to search high and low for this word. We do not need to trek to the ends of the earth for this word. This word is on our lips and in our hearts. This word is closer to us than we are to ourselves. This word comes from The Word, the Word made flesh, who abides with us until the end of the ages.

Loving God with all our hearts and souls helps us not to treat God as Divine 9-1-1. When we actively participate in loving God, our love increases, multiplies, spills over to become love of our neighbors and love of ourselves. This is the word God puts on our hearts. The word is Love. And the (capital-W) Word made flesh remains with us because God so loved the world that God gave God’s only Son.

This week, I invite you to take a moment in the midst of every single thing you do. Take a moment in the midst of every emotion you feel. Take a moment in the midst of every bout of fear or anger or longing or contentment. Stop and remind yourself the word is near you. The word is near you in the midst of all of it – the walking on water and the sinking and the flailing and the reaching and the grasping and the embracing of the One who is always extending a hand to us. The Word is very near you. Listen for that word in the beat of your hearts. And proclaim it each day through your love of God and all things that God creates.

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Photo by KAL VISUALS on Unsplash.