Sunday, August 10, 2008

Pentecost 13/Proper 14A

The Ven. Richard I. Cluett
August 10, 2008
1Kings 19:9-18 + Matthew 14:22-33

“You of little faith, why did you doubt?” Why, indeed.

All the evidence to the contrary – Jesus was right there on the water, and Peter doubted. That one little niggling doubt crept in and he was a goner – in the drink, floundering around, flailing away, and crying out in fear. Wanting to believe, trying to believe, believing that he did believe, still down he went. Dunked by doubt.

Anyone here identify with that sinking feeling Peter had? How many times has it happened to you? Why do you doubt? As the old song goes, “I don’t know why, I just do.”

You’re just sailing along in your life, secure in the faith that all is well, that all will be well, that whatever happens, even if there is a problem, it can be managed, it will be handled, you can take care of it.

But who are you fooling? Do you really know yourself to be that take charge guy, that supremely competent gal, that “come hell or high water” I-can-do-it person? Sure you are!

Or do you, deep down, have that cold, hard knot, or maybe for you it is instead a swirling, chaotic stomach churning mass, whichever it is, that area of doubt or fear that’s always there, waiting to creep in, right at the wrong moment, and there you go, down! Just like Peter. Dunked by Doubt.

Miracles are mysteries. We can profitably set our nets a little deeper to see what can be caught here. Let’s come at this story another way – through belief instead of doubt.

What do you mean when you say, “I believe…”? Are you saying that you believe and therefore your life will conform to that belief, and be guided by that belief, and that events will progress according to that belief, and all will be right with your world?

Or are you saying that you agree with or assent to a certain set of principles as in “I agree with Dr. Einstein that e=mc2”? And that life will follow along logically and orderly and well, based on that belief?

Or are you saying along with author Diane Eck that by saying “I believe…” you are saying, “I give my heart. I give my heart to God. I give my heart to this my beloved. I give my heart to Jesus. And because I give my heart to Jesus, I will do my best to live his way.”

Following Jesus gives us the best chance to live a life of meaning and purpose, and to be on the receiving end of mercy, forgiveness, grace, companionship, support and love. The more we follow him, the more we invest our heart, the more we are in his company, the more we walk in his way, the more we will experience the fruits of faith, and be able to trust the one to whom we give our heart.

Trust follows experience. When in your life have you experienced that grace, that mercy, that forgiveness? Would you have known those things had you not been seeking Jesus, enjoying his company, and being in communion with him and with his community?

Does faith, does belief, does trust guarantee success? Not hardly.

Many of you know that Tony and I do some conference work in an organization concerned with the well-being of people who work in the church. The name of the program is Credo, the Latin word that beings the creed, meaning “I believe”. What we do in that program is provide some resources and models so participants can get back in touch with what they meant when they give their heart to God and committed their lives to helping build the kingdom and care for God’s people. The clergy and professional church workers are living proof that it is possible to lose from time to time what we desire and prize so highly. And also possible to find it again.

If it can happen to Peter it can happen to you. If it can happen to Elijah the greatest of the prophets it can happen to you. What do you think Elijah was doing in that cave other than having a dark day of doubt, thinking for a brief moment that maybe Baal might indeed be the stronger god.

Let’s take the heart image a little further. A function of the heart is to move the flow of blood, the power of being, up to our head and down to our feet and out to our hands and fingers.

Faith and trust also have to do with movement. They come from that act of giving our heart to another, and that movement that leads to another and another and another and faith is thereby strengthened and trust is thereby built and life is can be lived in a way that gives life and makes us willing from time to time to risk.

That trust, that willingness to risk stepping outside the boat, to move closer to the one to whom he has given his heart is how I think of faith. And Peter has that.

So why does Jesus address him as "you of little faith"? Peter has a little faith. Like you and me. I’ve got a little, sometimes it is not enough, but most times it is what my father called an “elegant sufficiency”. Most of the time it is enough, sufficient for the day, even if every now and then, it wavers, it shrinks, it flounders, it flails, even to the point of sinking. Most days it moves me along in his way, sometimes it moves me outside my little zone of comfort, moves me to risk on behalf of God, God’s kingdom, and Jesus’ followers who he also calls people of “little faith.”

So how much faith do you need to make a difference in your life, or even to change the world? Just a little. You don't have to talk yourself into absolute confidence that anything in particular will happen. That's a good thing, since none of us really knows the future, or the heart of another person, much less the heart of God. Faith isn't about knowing that, faith is about knowing our own heart.

Faith is willingness to risk. It's willingness to take that step out of the boat, whether you think you'll sink or swim. It proceeds from the kind of love that, despite all of the butterflies in one's stomach, makes a person willing to say “I believe.”

The good news of today’s gospel is that even when the seas rise so high we are in danger of sinking, Jesus is there coming toward us, saying, “it’s me; don’t be afraid”. Jesus is there in that place, in that moment to calm, to quiet, to strengthen, to restore, to save. And that is a first-class miracle.

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