Suffering and the Storm- Matt 14

 

Matthew 14:22-33

 

The first noble truth in Buddhism is “life is suffering”. To be alive is to suffer. Sometimes this is in profound ways, like the unexpected death of someone we love. Sometimes it is in less dramatic ways, like when you are dealing with criticism. … We will go through these varying levels of suffering as life progresses. Of course, there is joy there too, but the pain is always somewhat present. … A relationship is rocky. A relationship is desired and never manifests. Health deteriorates. The garden gets slugs. A job ends. A mutual fund depreciates. Doubts arise about who we are and what we believe. And then there is the news.

Our Old Testament reading is a good example of this. Joseph knew suffering. He was sold into slavery by his brothers for 20 pieces of silver. As a slave in Egypt, he is then falsely accused and thrown into prison. Joseph knew suffering.

In our Gospel story the Ancient Church sees the suffering of the world in the storm. The winds of chaos and disorder, and the bashing waves of cruelty, slam against the boat. The boat is tossed about, threatening to capsize. Water is bailed out. … The boat is a rough place to be, but it sure beats floating in the sea without one.

The Church Fathers see the boat as the Church. We, as the disciples of Jesus, strive and fight against the wind and waves. We row and tie down sails. Perhaps one disciples yells at another to get on an oar, or to retie a rope. Maybe they argue about which way to row. … We yearn for the presence of Jesus in the midst of the storm, knowing he has the power to calm it, just as he did once before when he was awoken by a frightened disciple.

Where was Jesus? He had sent them away in the boat, and he had dismissed the crowds. He was alone on a mountain praying. St. Chrysostom says he went up the mountain alone 

“to teach us that solitude and seclusion are good, when we pray to God. … we find him continually withdrawing into the wilderness. There he often spends the whole night in prayer. This teaches us earnestly to seek such quietness in our prayers as the time and place may afford. For the wilderness is the mother of silence…” (The Gospel of Matthew, Homily 50.1).

 When we live a life marked by the kind of deep prayer that comes from solitude and silence we are much more able to deal with the storms of life. It is interesting that Jesus finds this practice so necessary. Anyone who takes their faith seriously should take note here that Jesus, against the desires of the crowds and the desires of his closest friends, leaves them all to be alone to pray. There is a necessary strength he found in that practice.

Chrysostom also sees this event as Jesus training his disciples. 

“Whereas in the previous storm they had him with them in the ship, now they were alone by themselves. Even when he was asleep in the boat in the previous situation he was ready to give them relief from danger. But then he was present to them. Now he is leading them into a greater degree of challenge. Now he is not even present to them. … In midsea he permits a storm to arise. This was all for their training, that they might not look for some easy hope of preservation from any earthly source. He then allows them to be tossed by the storm all night! This had the purpose of awakening their stony hearts in a most complete way.”

Have you ever been faced with fear that caused you to cry out to God? Have you been humbled by a great sin that caused you to turn to God? When we reach the end of our earthly ability we cry out to God as our only hope. The old proverb, “there are no atheists in foxholes” often rings true. We are brought to our knees when we realize our skill, our money, our friends, our technology, and our country are not able to help us. C.S. Lewis wrote 

“God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pain: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world” (Lewis, The Problem of Pain).

 It is an idea that we aren’t very comfortable with anymore. If we are sad, we take a pill. Sometimes it is absolutely necessary to take the pill. I’m just trying to compare us, in the modern-wealthy-west, to the mass of humanity throughout time. We have anesthesia, and opioids. We have Tylenol. And we reject pain almost as an offence to our human rights. … It is interesting that people of the past, who lacked our pain management medications, saw more meaning in pain. They knew pain. They knew the toothache without medicine and dentistry. They too knew disease and death, but without our pain control. I wonder if they saw something we don’t? … Chrysostom saw the storm as a challenge and training for the disciples. Jesus wanted them to learn endurance.

The disciples had fought the storm all night and in the morning they saw a figure coming to them on the sea. At first they thought it was a ghost. What would you think if you were in the middle of the sea with dark clouds overhead, a storm raging around you, and you saw a human figure standing on the waves? … This might be symbolic as well. The help that God sometimes gives us is surprising, maybe even frightening. Certainly, God’s help is often outside our expectations.

Jesus sees their fear and calls out to them, "Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid." Many have seen a connection to the divine name given to Moses out of the burning bush in Jesus’ words “it is I” (ἐγώ εἰμι). There are linguistic reasons to make this connection, especially when we consider the context. The ancient church saw the following passages as connected to this story (Chromatius, Tractate on Matthew 52:2). Speaking about God in the book of Job we read, 

“Who alone stretched out the heavens and walked on the sea as well as the earth” (Job 9:8).

 In the Apocryphal book of Sirach we read of the personification of Wisdom, 

“I dwelt in the highest places and my throne was in a pillar of cloud. I orbited the heavenly sphere alone and walked on the waves of the sea” (Sir 24:4-5).

 In Psalm 77 we read, 

“God, your way was through the sea, your path through the great waters” (Ps 77:19). 

They see this amazing sight. Jesus walking on the water in the midst of the storm. And Peter does this funny thing. He says, "Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water." He knows that he doesn’t have the power to do it on his own, but if Jesus calls him to do it, he knows he can. Jesus says “come” and Peter gets out of the boat and starts walking on the water. … Perhaps this is the heart of the disciple- the desire to be like Jesus. In the Gospels the disciples are given authority to do what Jesus had been doing- preaching, healing, and casting out demons. Perhaps Peter’s instinct has been marked by the desire to imitate his Lord as an apprentice seeks to imitate the journeyman. And he does! He walks on water!

But peter sees the strong wind and becomes frightened, then he begins to sink. That order is important. He doesn’t start to sink and then become frightened. He takes his eyes off Jesus, sees the wind, and then becomes frightened, and then he begins to sink. He cries out, "Lord, save me!" Jesus catches him and says, "You of little faith, why did you doubt?" When Jesus says this I see him hugging Peter as he holds him out of the water and smiling like a dad who saw his child almost riding their bike, but then got afraid and fell off. You were doing it! If you didn’t get afraid you would have been riding your bike! With that correction is the voice of a proud father.

When they both get back into the boat, the wind stops. And the disciples in awe worship Jesus saying, "Truly you are the Son of God."

We are facing a certain amount of chaos right now. The economy and personal finances are in flux. How and when the churches are going to be able to get back to normal is still a question. The schools are in a bizarre limbo. Many of our senior’s facilities and in lockdown which has caused severe loneliness. Then there is the news and the chaos that hits our families and personal lives. … We gather into the boat that is the church and we struggle to support each other against the storm, all the while calling out to Jesus. We are strengthened as our muscles pull on the oars. Our souls learn endurance and faith as we strive against the chaos we face. All the circumstances of our lives can be used to strengthen us. And Jesus does come, but not in ways we expect. We have to be open. We have to keep our eyes peering into the storm. … He knows what we are facing. He hears us. He may even call a few of us who are bold enough to ask to step out onto the water. But he has not left us alone. AMEN.