Sunday, August 28, 2011

Exodus 3:1-15; Psalm 63; Matthew 16:21-27

O Lord, we pray, speak in the calming of our minds and in the longings of our hearts, by the words of my lips and in the thoughts that we form. Speak, O Lord, for your servants listen. Amen.

To really get hold of the significance of today's gospel reading with its talk of the cross and of suffering and dying and being raised you need to know what happened just minutes earlier in the scene.

Jesus has led his disciples to the region of Caesarea Philippi, and there he asked his disciples, "Who do people say the Son of Man is?"

They tell him - "Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets."

Then he asks them - "But what about you?" Who do you say I am?"

And Peter answers "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God."

Jesus answers Peter's assertion by saying that Peter is truly blessed - that this confession has been revealed to him by God the Father and then he says to Peter that on him he would build his church - an everlasting church - and to him he would give "the keys of the kingdom of heaven so that whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven."

And then he warned his disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Christ.

There today's reading begins - with the words

"From that time on Jesus began to explain to his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things at the hands of the elders, chief priests and teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and on the third day be raised to life.

Notice the word that repeated twice in this single verse, the word that Peter reacts to immediately by taking Jesus aside and attempting to rebuke Jesus saying "Never Lord! This shall never happen to you."

I refer to the word "must".

I must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things. I must be killed be killed - and on the third day be raised to life.

I think we can understand where Peter is at. Many of us feel the same way today as Peter felt then.

It makes no sense to him that the Messiah, the Son of The Living God, must suffer and die.

It makes no sense to him that the King over Israel, the one promised of old to arise from the line of David and to rule over David's kingdom, must suffer many things at the hands of the very people who should welcome him with open arms.

It makes no sense at all that a dear friend - a holy man - a righteous man - a man destined to rule God's own people should be speaking of defeat instead of victory - of disgrace instead of honour - of an ignoble and early death - instead of a glorious and long life - and saying that it MUST be so.

Peter simply doesn't hear what Jesus is saying - and what he does hear - he doesn't want to accept.

And Jesus condemns that lack of hearing - that lack of accepting - that lack of understanding by saying to Peter:

"Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men."

And then by telling all the disciples, who have been listening to this exchange between Peter and Jesus:

"If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself (there is that word again) and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it...".

Have you ever wondered why throughout the gospels Jesus rebukes demons who identify him as the Son of Man and warns his disciples to not tell others that he is the Christ, the Son of the Living of God?

When I first started reading the Bible in my late teens and early twenties it struck me as very strange.

I mean is not our whole faith based on the understanding that Jesus is the Word of God made flesh?

- that he is the promised shoot arising out of the stump of Jesse?
- that he is the fulfilment of the promises made to Abraham and to Moses, to David and to Jeremiah and to Isaiah and all the prophets?

Indeed, isn't it the job of the Holy Spirit to reveal this very thing to us, much as Jesus says to Peter at Caesarea Philippi that he is blessed because the Father has revealed it to him?

"Jesus - You are the Messiah, the Christ, the Son of the Living God!" Why can't we say it?? Why can't we tell the whole world - right now - today?"

Well, of course, we can. But at the very beginning the disciples were told not to.

And the reason for that is because the people of the time, the faithful people, the hopeful people, who awaited the Messiah, would, upon hearing the news, fail - much as Peter failed - to hear the message of the Messiah.

The message concerning his life- I must suffer.

- I must be killed and on the third day rise.

And the message about their lives - If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.

We see it today in some churches - this failure to hear what the Messiah is all about, and what the Messiah, the Christ expects, indeed demands, of his followers.

We see it where forgiveness is proclaimed without requiring repentance, where baptism is practised without requiring that one be a part of the body of Christ, where communion is offered without the need for confession and reconciliation and where wealth and health is promised if you just believe - rather than the service and sacrifice, the humility and the self-giving that is the sign of our calling, and indeed the sign of sainthood.

Someone once said: "Jesus promised his disciples three things - they would be entirely fearless, absurdly happy, and always in trouble.".

That's not the kind of message most people want to hear.

Trouble we already have.

What we want is a world without trouble -

a world where all our problems are taken away with the snap of the fingers
a world where our enemies are made to vanish - just like that,
a world of peace and plenty and happiness,
a world where we and those we love can have everything a person desires.

That is what the Messiah is supposed to do - the Messiah is supposed to make our world better, to bring in the age of peace and plenty with one quick snap of the fingers and - if there must be a bit of fighting at the very beginning to get rid of those who oppress us, well, it will be a glorious affair, one with no injury or cost to the good guys, one where the enemy will be routed completely and where those who have fought for the king will be honoured in their victory with him, and the world will be safe forevermore....

From the moment that Peter and the other disciples recognized Jesus as the Messiah, from that time Jesus began to explain to them that he must suffer and that he must be killed and on the third day rise.

I would love to be able to tell you that this isn't the way things must be.

But God's ways - praise be to God - are not our ways.

The emblem our faith is not a crown - but a cross.

And the field of battle upon which our Lord wins his victory is not the sand of Judah and of Palestine but the hearts of men and women like you and I.

And what he fights against - and what we fight against with him, is not an enemy of flesh and blood, but rather the principalities and powers of this world, the world's way of doing things - that way which began when the serpent suggested to Eve that she could become like God if she simply reached out her hand and took the fruit that God said she should not eat.

I am not much of a gardener - but I do know a couple of things. The most important of these is that a flower's beauty can be realised only by first being planted in the ground, in the form of a seed.

As it is with seeds that are meant to be flowers - so it is for us - so it is with Christ.

Evil is not overcome by evil.

And a life worth the living is not found by clinging to the life we have, and surrounding it with all the toys that the world affords us.

Rather it is found by letting go of ourselves and our own selfish desires and our own feeble way of understanding things - and being obedient to the one who makes seeds to grow.

Yes Peter, Jesus must suffer and must die - and yes, that seems so wrong - but listen - didn't you also hear him say "and on the third day be raised?"

Or, thinking about the call of Moses which was described in part in our first reading: Yes Moses, I want you to leave the comfortable life you have found here in Midian

- I know you are wanted for murder in Egypt
- I know you can't speak well,
- I know that you require some kind of way of convincing my people you have talked to me,
- I know Moses that even though I AM WHO I AM - the God of your ancestors, has spoken to you, you don't want to go. But haven't you heard me? I have heard my people's cry - and I am going to lead them out of bondage and bring them to this very mountain to worship me - if you but do as I ask.

Or again - Yes Ricky - I know that I am asking to go an extra mile when - in an ideal world - you shouldn't even have had to go the first. And yes, I know that Lam King and Amy don't deserve your time and your care after allthat they have done to hurt themselves and their families. And yes, I know that you have worked hard for what you have and shouldn't have to share it with those who haven't worked at all. I know all that you have done and I know that other people should be taking their turn instead of you - but haven't you heard?!

It is not only about what you are being asked to give up, it is not only - it is not only about taking up my cross and doing my will instead of indulging your own.

It is also about gaining the very thing you and indeed everyone else needs the most: a life worth living - a life that gives life - a life that is joyful and unafraid - a life which death cannot destroy - a life in which the kingdom of God draws near and is lived and shared with all.

Yes, I talk about how you need to die to yourself each day and to put my will first in your lives, and yes, it is not going to be fun or easy - especially at first; - but think about what is coming and what you will become.

Or not.

Praise be to Christ Jesus our Lord who died so we might live and who lives that we never die. Amen

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Exodus 1:1-2:10; Psalm 124; Romans 12:1-8; Matthew 16:13-20

At the begining, let me observe that this morning's reading is one of the New Testament's most significant one. It is found in all three synoptic Gospels: in the 16th chapter of Matthew, the eighth chapter of Mark (which is presumably the original) and in the ninth chapter of Luke. In each of these Gospels, though most obviously in Mark and Matthew, this episode represents a turning point. With Peter's confession of Jesus as the Messiah (which is the theme of this morning's reading) and Peter's subsequent failure to recognize the true meaning of Jesus' Messiahship (which is the theme of next Sunday's reading) all three Gospels arrive at a critical juncture. To that extent, all three synoptic gospels are in agreement.

At the same time, for all their agreement, Matthew in his telling of the story, includes important details that are found neither in Mark nor in Luke. Listen. Listen first to Mark's Gospel.

"Jesus asked them, But who do you say that I am? Peter answered him, You are the Messiah. And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him." That's Mark's version.

Now listen again to the version from Matthew we heard earlier.

"Jesus said to them, But who do you say that I am? Simon Peter answered, You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God. And Jesus answered him, Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven. And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven."

That's quite a mouthful, isn't it? And it raises a number of issues that have divided Christians along all sorts of fault lines.

Most notoriously, it has divided Roman Catholic Christians from both their Eastern Orthodox and Protestant brothers and sisters. You see, in the traditions of the Catholic Church, this verse is seen as a key foundation for the office of the Pope. And so the argument is made that Jesus was handing over a distinctive spiritual authority not only to Peter but to Peter's successors, the subsequent bishops of the city of Rome, in which church Peter is believed to have been the first bishop, in which city Peter is believed to have been martyred.

Protestants, for their part, have tended to respond that the promise is only made to Peter, not to his successors. Besides, or so runs a classic argument, it is not so much Peter himself who is made the foundation of the church, but rather Peter's confession (his recognition that Jesus is the Messiah) that is the foundation of the church. No wonder we Protestants delight in singing that "the Church's one Foundation, is Jesus Christ our Lord!"

For the record, I believe there is a measure of truth in each perspective. Protestants are right to remind Catholics that there is nothing whatsoever in this verse about Peter's successors. Protestants are also right to remind Catholics that any authority given to Peter is valid only to the extent that Peter remains faithful to his insight: namely, that Jesus is the Messiah. But Catholics, I believe (and more and more Protestant scholars seem willing to concede this), Catholics are right to claim that it is not only Peter's insight that is authoritative, but that Jesus is conferring at least some measure of authority on Peter himself, and through Peter on the church and its subsequent leaders.

Mind you: all of this presupposes that Jesus actually spoke these words to Peter. And that is another fault-line that this passage creates. Not only a fault-line between Catholics and other Christians, but also between liberal and conservative scholarship. Conservative scholarship believes these sayings about Peter really came from Jesus; liberal scholarship has tended to believe that Matthew's church inserted these sayings into Mark's original, as a way of conferring special authority on the ministry of Peter.

And this is, of course, one disagreement that will likely rage until the end of time. For my part, I am struck by a growing tendency among even liberal scholars, to regard the sayings about Peter as authentically coming from the lips of Jesus: preserved in a tradition that was available to Matthew but not to Mark. Three arguments seem especially convincing. First, that where we have a source that was used by Matthew, he is exceptionally respectful of that source; he shows no tendency simply to make things up. Second, that the pattern of Greek in this passage appears to reflect an underlying source in either Hebrew or Aramaic, making it likely that these words about Peter come from an ancient tradition. Finally, there is impressive corroborating evidence in Paul's letter to the Galatians, where Paul grudgingly acknowledges familiarity with traditions that give Peter special authority.

At any rate, that is my rather convoluted way of saying that I take this material at face value. I believe these sayings come from the lips of our Lord. Which means I have no choice but to ponder their meaning for today. And, as my sermon title indicates, I have a sense that their meaning for us today is caught up in this whole notion of the keys: the keys that were handed to Peter. Keys to the kingdom of heaven. Keys that will bind and loose on earth, so that (to quote from Matthew) whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. But what, pray tell, does any of that mean?

Well: at a minimum, it means that a profound authority has been conferred upon Peter, upon other church leaders, upon the church itself. And our temptation, I fear, has been to err in one of two ways in the face of such authority: the first turns the church into a dreadfully serious business, an institution that takes itself far too seriously. In reaction, we then go to the opposite extreme (the danger we now face in the United Church) by not taking the Church's distinctive mission seriously enough. But surely it is possible (not easy, mind you, but possible) to take the work we have been given as the church seriously, without taking ourselves seriously. And so yes, as distant descendants of those earliest Christians, as distant descendants of Simon Peter and the others, we ought never underestimate the weightiness of the work we have been given: the gospel we proclaim, the prayers we offer, the bread and cup we share, the care and compassion we offer in Christ's name. Let us never underestimate the importance of that work to God's work: its power to do great good, and (God help us) its power to do great harm (think about the residential schools, or about sexually abusive clergy), its power to harm when we betray the trust that has been placed in our corporate hands.

We can go further, I think: we can say more about those keys that were placed in Peter's hands. And I was struck, this past week by the two contrasting images that emerged as I pondered Peter and his keys. One of those images came from my study of some of the fine commentaries I perused, commentaries that are fairly unanimous in their understanding of the keys, explaining that Peter is being given the authority which rabbis traditionally held (and in some Orthodox Jewish circles still hold) to make binding decisions in the areas of doctrine and ethics. And I found myself contrasting that with an image that has become a staple of pop culture (and all kinds of very funny jokes): the image of St. Peter and his keys, standing guard at the gates of heaven. And as I weighed those images, as I contrasted those images, I was left with a question.

Why is it that the image most non-churchgoers have of the institutional church, tends to draw so heavily on the rabbinical image: the image of a group of right-minded folks who delight in laying down all sorts of doctrinal absolutes they themselves don't really believe, and all sorts of ethical absolutes they themselves never manage to keep. And I know that's a miserably unfair caricature: we're not like that. And yet, the fact remains that the church, as far as the world is concerned, seems to be far better at binding then at loosening. Far better at the creation of binding doctrinal norms and ethical rules, than at the setting loose of God's people for lives of hope-filled freedom in the midst of a horrifically complex world.

And I think most of you know me well enough to know that I am repudiating neither doctrine nor morals! The shelves of my church study are lined with many volumes of theology: with a decided preference for those theologians who view theology as nothing more than sustained commentary on the church's teaching, the church's doctrines. As for ethics, again I hope you know me well enough to realize that I am not so naive about the human race as to believe that we could get along without at least some guidelines (which had generally better take the form of rules, regulations, and laws) to assist us in governing our unruly passions and our boundless pretentions. I know that, and I hope you know that I know that.

But! I also know this. Simon son of Jonah, this Peter on whose confession the church is founded, immediately (as we will see next Sunday) managed to make a botch of the whole business, entirely misunderstanding the true nature of Jesus' mission. This same Peter then proceeded to deny Jesus not once, not twice, but three times on the night of Jesus' arrest. Furthermore, it was this very Peter (according to John's Gospel), who could think of nothing more productive to do after witnessing the risen Christ, than to return to Galilee and get back into the fishing business. And then, some 20 years later, when you would think he had finally managed to get things sorted out, it was this same rock-like Peter who received a good tongue-lashing from the apostle Paul. Why? Because Peter had withdrawn from table fellowship with fellow Christians, simply because they were Gentiles. You see: Jesus founded the church on the back of a man who was a repeat recipient of divine mercy. Someone who fell often, but who was allowed to stand again. In other words, Jesus placed the keys to his kingdom in the hands of someone who had as much reason as any human being who has ever walked the face of this earth, to acknowledge his radical need for God's mercy-drenched grace.

And oh, how I wish, how I wish, that the Church did a better job of presenting the Gospel in that way. How I wish we displayed more facility at showing the world that Christ's mission was and still is, and that therefore the church's mission always has been and still is, fundamentally a mission of divine mercy. That any wisdom, any doctrine, of which the Church might dare to boast, is grounded fully and exclusively in the truth of divine mercy; that any virtue, any ethical achievement of which the Church might dare to boast, is grounded fully and exclusively in the goodness of divine mercy. The mercy that picks us up each time we stumble, each time we fall.

I'm reminded of St. Augustine's famous quip. That the Kingdom of heaven will be built not from the perfection of virtue, but from the forgiveness of sins.

I am reminded of a wonderful song: one of the last songs written by a remarkable evangelical Christian song-writer, who was taken from us far too young: Rich Mullins.

"Let mercy lead, (let mercy lead!)
let love be the strength in your legs,
and in every footprint that you leave,
there'll be a drop of grace."

I like that. The good news being....

....the good news being that it is just such grace, that it is just such mercy, that now has a name. Mercy now has a name (we call him Jesus!), mercy now has a story (we call it Gospel!)...

...and also, also mercy now has a community of followers (we call it church!): a key-wielding community of followers, that lives for the express purpose of telling the world, and better still of showing the world, the face of God's unyielding love.

"Jesus said to them: But who do you say that I am? Simon Peter answered, You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God."

May He be blessed day by day, Amen.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Isaiah 56:1-8; Matthew 15:21-28

Let us Pray: Breathe on us, O God, that we may be filled with your Spirit - and led by your living word - Jesus Christ our Lord. Bless the word of my lips and the meditations of our hearts. We ask it in his name. Amen.

Every now and then, rather than doing a what I call an ordinary sermon where I take the Bible passages for the day and attempt with God's help to find in them the Word that we need to hear, I instead take the Bible passage, generally a story, or a parable, and retell it as a story.

In doing so I ask myself - and hope that you will ask yourselves what was the event like? What were the people in it thinking about? What happened and why did it happen that way? How is God found in the story?

Stories help us to use our imagination, they help us to hear what God is saying to us, and when we listen and wonder as did our ancestors by their fires and in their temples and synagogues, the Holy Spirit helps us to hear what it is God is saying.

Today - I offer to you such a story, and, prayerfully, you will hear in it the word of God for you this day.

It is the story which I call Crumbs From the Table. Relax and listen.

She didn't belong there. I knew it and the rest of us knew it.

We were just sitting down to dinner when she barged in.

The dogs woke up immediately and from their place under the table they began to bark.

One of the children started to cry as the woman frantically looked around the room.

I was startled and I stood up immediately. I could feel myself beginning to get angry as I look at this dishevelled and dirty woman.

John and James, who had been sitting near the door had leapt up at the same time I had - and they were already reaching out to stop from the woman from coming closer to the table when she spotted the master.

"Lord, Son of David" - she cried out as they moved in front of her, "Have mercy on me! My daughter is sick. She is suffering terribly from demon possession..."

The master must of heard her over the noise of the two dogs and the child, but he never said a word.

He didn't even look up from his plate.

By this time not only John and James, but I and three others had surrounded the woman and we began to hustle her out the door. She was interrupting not only our meal, but the time that Jesus had specially set aside for teaching us about the Kingdom he was
going to establish. We had no intention of letting her get in the way of that.

The woman struggled a bit, but she didn't have a chance. Hauling nets gives a person a lot of strength, and she was outnumbered. We got her outside even more quickly than a bouncer gets a drunk out of a tavern.

But let me tell you, once outside, she caused just as much trouble as a drunk does.

She was loud and insistent.
She tried to get by us and to get back inside.
She kept on saying to us that she had to see the miracle worker, that her daughter was in terrible shape, that she needed help.

She must of clutched at and grabbed each and every one of us as she pleaded.

I tell you, she was a real pain. I just wanted to get back inside for dinner.

James tried to reason with her.

"Look", he said, "You have no right to be here. You've got no right to bother the teacher. You are a foreigner, you don't believe in anything we believe in, your people are gentiles, they are heathens, and your behaviour shows that you are too. There is no way the master is going to help you, so please go away."

"I've got to see him", she said, "I know he can help me. He has done so much for others."

"That may be", James said, "but he's not going to do anything for you. You are not only a woman, you are a Canaanite. You don't go to the synagogue. You don't obey the law of Moses. You are unclean. You eat forbidden food. To make matters worse... you have absolutely no respect. Jesus is trying to eat. He is a guest in another man's home, and this is supposed to be a special time for us all, and you just barge in and start demanding help! Listen! Please! Go away! You are not going to get help here."

You know what she did?

That wretched woman just shook her head and said: "I know he will help me, he's got to help me!"

John butted in, "Look", he said, "Go away. We've told you that your not welcome here. We've told you that Jesus isn't going to have anything to do with your type. So why don't you just get lost."

I tell you she was a crazy woman. She didn't know her place, that's for sure. The more we said to her, the louder and more persistent she was. She cried, she begged, she screamed. There was no reasoning with her.

After a few minutes of this I got the idea of asking Jesus to tell her to go away. I figured that if he said something to her she'd get the picture and stop her infernal racket.

I mentioned the idea to a couple of the others and they agreed that it was the only thing to do if we were going to have any peace.

As soon as I opened the door to go in the dogs began barking again. Someone hissed at them to be quiet as I went over to Jesus. He was sitting with the child who had cried earlier and eating and talking with our host.

Our host looked a little embarrassed. He was trying to pretend that nothing was going on - but the woman was standing just outside the open door where my two mates were waiting for the word and the noise level was none too low.

"Excuse me", I said to the Master, "could you please tell that woman to go away. She is really pestering us with all her crying and carrying on."

Jesus look at his host, then at me, and said - "I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel."

I tell you, Jesus was really frustrating at times. He never seemed to give a straight answer to a simple question. But even so, this time he was backing us up.

It was like he had heard everything we had said to the woman, so I turned to tell the wretched woman that the master had told her to go away.

Just as I was turning around, she squeezed by the guys at the door and ran over to right beside the master, and fell on down on her knees at his feet.

"Lord, help me", she said.

I didn't do a thing. I was tired. I figured after what he had said Jesus would handle it just fine. And he did.

Jesus looked at her at his feet.

She bowed her head and looked down.

Then he looked around the room for a moment.

The child beside him was busy eating a piece of bread as if nothing untoward had happened. The dogs were nuzzling around under the table. Our host was staring at him, no doubt wondering what Jesus was going to do to get rid of this problem. John and James and the others were all inside by this point. They were still standing, waiting to see if they were going to be needed again.

It became very quiet in the room as the master looked around, the only sounds were those of the flies and of the child eating.

Then Jesus looked down at the woman and said to her

"It is not right to take the children's bread and to toss it to their dogs"

A couple of the disciples smiled. I must confess that I grinned too. It was such a well turned phrase. The kind that only Jesus seemed to be able to come up with.
It made the point well. As far as I was concerned, it certainly disposed of her
and all of her kind.

I caught James looking at me and began to nod my head at him. As I did so the woman looked up at Jesus and stared him in the eyes.

"Yes Lord", she said to him in this incredibly calm and clear voice, and I swear to you she had this little smile on her face,

"Yes Lord", she said, "but even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master's table."

I was stunned. The woman really was too much. Lippy, rude, obnoxious, unclean, disrespectful, I could go on!

Anyway - do you know what Jesus did?

He smiled at her, as if it was all some great contest of wits and he said to her

"Woman, you have great faith, For your reply, your request is granted. Go home, you daughter is healed."

I just could not understand it. I mean why in the world did Jesus do that? She did not belong there. She was not one of us. She was nothing but a Canaanite, Jesus knew it, I knew it, and the rest of us knew it. I just don't understand Jesus sometimes. I just don't understand....

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Romans 10:5-15 and Matthew 14:22-33

Let us Pray: Breathe on us, O God, that we may be filled with your Spirit - and led by your living word - Jesus Christ our Lord. Bless the word of my lips and the meditations of our hearts. We ask it in his name. Amen.

There are two levels to the story in our Gospel today:

- the level in which we see Jesus as the stiller of the storm; as the one who brings peace to those who sail through life in the boat called the church;

- and the level in which we see Jesus as the one who bestows power; as the one who calls to his followers - to those who are willing to step out of the safety of the boat - "come to me" - and who supports them when they do so.

It is this second level to the story that I want us to think about today - the level at which we see Jesus as the giver of power to those who, as a part of his church - are willing take a chance.

Think with me on the whole episode of Peter and his trip out upon the water. Think with me of how he was willing to risk all on the word of his master.

We hear in the gospel story that the disciples have been commanded by Jesus to take a boat and go before him to the other side of the Sea of Galilee while Jesus stays behind to dismiss the crowds that had gathered to listen to him.

By evening Jesus was alone - praying - and the disciples were far from shore, being battered by wind and waves. They struggle almost all night against the storm that is crashing down against them, and they struggle successfully, until near dawn they see an apparition - they see someone or something - walking across the water towards them - and they are terrified and quite naturally given the circumstances, they cry out in fear.

Immediately Jesus, for it is he who is walking upon the water, responds to the disciple's fear with the words - "Take heart, it is I, do not be afraid."

Peter answers Jesus first - saying

"Lord - if it is you - command me to come to you on the water."

And Jesus answers by saying "Come". And Peter climbs over the edge of the boat and puts his feet upon the water, and begins to walk towards Jesus.

Now some people dismiss the miracles recorded in the bible as simply tall tales. They claim that the stories of healing and of resurrection and of walking on water are but symbols for other things.

I don't agree with these people at all - I don't agree that these things never happened because I know that miracles occur, that people do get healed - I witnessed one myself when the doctors had all given up hope, that the dead are raised; and that many other marvellous, unexplainable things occur when people call upon the Lord.

Even so - most of the miracle stories in the bible are symbolic in that they teach us things about life and about faith even as they tell us about the marvellous things that Jesus and the disciples did.

And the story of Peter walking upon the water towards Jesus is one of these.

It shows us what can happen when we respond to the call of Jesus, it shows us how we can triumph over the forces of chaos and meaninglessness, it shows us how, when we take chance on the word of Jesus, his power lifts us up and allows us to weather the storms of life and do something new.

Think about it - Peter did not need to get out of the boat. He did not need to venture forth upon the stormy waters. He could have simply stayed where he was and waited for the Lord to come to him. He could have sheltered himself in the safety of the boat in the knowledge that everything would be okay now that the Lord was coming to him and the other disciples

But he did not. Instead Peter took a chance. He asked the Lord to bid him to come to him. He asked the Lord for the power to meet him in the middle of the sea.

Here is courage indeed - The courage to venture forth into danger and to do what the Lord has said can be done; the courage to risk taking a step that does not really need to be taken, simply because the Lord tells him it can be taken.

Most people suffer from a lack of boldness, a lack of courage - even Christians suffer in this way.

Given the choice between continuing in a situation where, despite the burdens and the dangers that are all around, there is a reasonable degree of safety, and venturing out into a new and unknown situation, where the dangers seem even greater and where there is no apparent safety net, most people will elect to stay put - to stay where they are.

Thus it is that women will stay in a home where they and their children are being abused rather than walk out and try to find a new life.

Thus it is that men will work for years in a job that is slowly destroying their health and happiness - rather than risk their homes and their security by returning to school or starting their own businesses.

Thus it is that teenagers will not speak to someone whom they are attracted to because they are afraid of botching up - afraid of being laughed at and rejected.

Thus it is that people who have had dreams of travelling around the world or of doing something else very special will stay where they are and allow their dreams to wither and die.

What have we been afraid to do?

What have we postponed because we dreaded the possible consequences?

Who have we have avoided because we did not know what to say to them?

Where have we refused to go because we feared what might happen there?

What goal have we hid from because we have felt inadequate?

What dream have we let wither and die?

Sometime we need to get out of the safety of boat. We need to say to the Lord, "Lord, if it is you - bid me come to you."

I am not saying here today to go out and take a wild chance on the first thing that comes along - but I am saying - if you have a dream - or if you are in a situation where wholeness and happiness are elusive - and you hear the master calling to you to take a chance - if you see that you can do something to help someone else - or simply feel that God is calling you to change something in your life that seems unchangeable - risk it.

Peter - though he did not need to - in the absolute sense of the word need - got out of the boat - and - upon the bidding of the Lord - walked upon the sea.

And he did well - his faith held him up - the power of Christ held him up, and he continued to do well until he forget about that power that he had called upon, he did well until he focussed upon the danger he was in, till he looked at the strong wind and the waves - and became afraid.

Then he began to sink..

When we take a risk - when we venture out upon the bidding of the Lord to do something new, or simply to fulfil what we believe our calling is - it is very important that we remember to stay focussed on our goal - to trust that God will see us through despite what is happening all around us.

A helicopter pilot who flew from an aircraft carrier in the Pacific told this story.

"I was flying the helicopter back to the ship when a blinding fog rolled in. Flying at a low altitude, I knew 5that a single mistake would plunge me and my crew into the ocean. Worse yet, I was experiencing a complete loss of balance - which, apparently is common for pilots flying by instruments. This loss of balance - known as vertigo - was so bad that despite the instrument readings I was certain that I was lying on my side. For 15 minutes I flew the helicopter by its instruments, fighting the urge to turn it according to my feeling. When we finally broke safely through the fog, I was deeply thankful I had being trained to rely upon my instruments rather than on my feelings.

That is what people who live by faith do - they remember that feelings can be misleading, but the truths in God's word are reliable, trustworthy, and consistent.

When we believe and act on these truths, we eventually break through the fog and experience the fulfilment of divine promise.

Peter - when he is overcome by fear, when he starts to walk according to his feelings instead of by the instruments of faith - begins to sink. His risk looks as if it has failed - but, as our story shows - it does not fail.

Pete sinks - but as he sinks Peter remembers from whence his help comes - and he cries out - "Lord! Save me!"

And Jesus reaches out his hand and catches him.

That is what the Lord does when we risk as well; it is what he does when he bids us come to him over the dangerous waters.

When we step out, when we take a risk to come closer to God, and then falter...the hand of Jesus reaches out to us and lifts us up. All we have to do is remember - and focus on him once again.

Jesus says to Peter after reaching out to him to save him, he says, and I believe he says it gently - he says "You of little faith, why did you doubt?"

When we take a risk for the Lord, when we dare to do what is right, when we decide to go an extra mile - a mile that we need not walk - but which Jesus tells us we can walk - he is near to us to help us.

We do not need to doubt the outcome. We do not need to fear the adversity we encounter on the way.

All we need to do is keep focussed on Jesus, to look to where our help comes from. All we need to do is ask for the help we need and trust that it will come.

Like Peter who stepped out of the boat and walked on the water towards the Lord who had called him - we too can step out, and we really ought to step out, to respond to the Lord who bids us come to him.

When we do power flows. When we do marvellous things happen. When we do we discover new things about ourselves and our world.

We can risk, because we have a powerful Lord watching over us. We can trust, because we have a forgiving God caring for us. We can step out because we have a God who is sure to save.

Blessed be God - day by day. Amen