Of all the amazing moments in today’s gospel reading, my favorite is this: when Peter was sinking, “Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him.” Jesus reached out his hand to help his friend. That’s such a beautiful image and moment. To me, it means we are never alone. God reaches out to us, and God has put people in our lives to share this generous support with one another. It reminds me how the middle part of a church building like this is often called the nave—like navy—because the church is like a boat that we share in our journey through life. We’re in this together, with Jesus reaching out his arm to keep us going.
In my life, I have a highlight reel of times when God gave me people who reached out to help me when things got heavy: small moments of blessing, like a time when I was impossibly sad and someone surprised me with a hug. Or when I was struggling in school and a teacher noticed and came over to talk with me. Or when I was feeling like all my friends had moved away and someone said, “Hey, we should hang out.” These were moments of answered prayer when people reached out their hands and lifted me up.
These moments have happened enough that I’ve started to recognize that when things are getting tough, I ask myself, “Have I actually prayed about this yet?” Usually the answer is no. Remembering that I haven’t prayed and have been carrying these weights by myself gives me a chance to slow down, breathe, and actually tell God what is happening and why it bothers me.
Realizing that I've forgotten to pray has been part of my spiritual life for long enough that I know things will be different after I do pray. The situation may not have really changed--the grief, hurt, or challenges have not vanished--but at least I won’t be carrying these burdens by myself. Jesus reaches out, lifts us up, and gives us companions along the way to share the journey with. It’s happened enough that I know something will be different after I cry out to God (sometimes literally crying) in prayer.
While these lonely prayers and little differences might not sound like much, I believe that this is how Christians live into God’s goodness as we sail through life together. Prayer and mutual support might not sound like they can tackle challenges of our day like racial prejudice, economic injustice, and climate change. But just as our salvation starts with Jesus grabbing hold of us, we share this love with others by reaching out and letting them know that they are not alone. With Jesus, we are blessed to care for this world like God cares for it. It might sound simple, but meaningful change begins with humble acts of kindness and compassion for the people and world around us.
Thinking of everything that gets in the way of caring about people, I had a moment of clarity when I realized that so much of the loud noise and conflict surrounding us these days mostly comes down to excuses for why we shouldn’t care. I started to notice that most of the fights surrounding us are people giving reasons why climate change isn’t a problem, why women’s rights isn’t a big deal, why economic disparity isn’t really so bad, why civil rights issues aren’t worth the effort, and so on. Eventually I noticed that I’m tired of hearing excuses for why I shouldn’t care about other people or take their experiences seriously. In contrast, I know that Jesus loves people unconditionally and helps them with no strings attached.
That’s Peter’s wonderful part of this story. Peter never did figure out how to walk on water. But he did learn what it meant to receive love from Jesus and be lifted him up in the middle of his own failures and weakness. Later in the gospel, Peter learned what it felt like to be welcomed back and embraced after he had denied even knowing Jesus. And after Jesus’s resurrection, Peter and the other disciples didn’t spend their time trying to walk on water. Instead, they shared the good news that we have a loving God who comes to us, who reaches out to us, who loves us unconditionally and invites us to love others that way, too. That’s Peter’s great part in this story: to receive God’s love and share it.
That’s the loving, encouraging tone I hear in Jesus’ voice when he is holding Peter and says, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” These words might sound like criticism of Peter’s failure. They might also sound like words that put pressure on us to have enough faith to do miraculous big things. But that adds pressure rather than lifts us up, which is why it doesn’t sound like Jesus to me. So I don’t hear “You of little faith” as a criticism. Instead, I hear it as a term of endearment, because Jesus loves his little ones and has compassion on them, as he said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.” Peter sinking in the sea was one of those little ones, just like you and me are beloved little ones of God, blessed to then be a blessing as we journey on this ship of life.
Finally, while it sounds in this story like Jesus saves us from the storms of life, we remember that in the end he saved us by going through the storm. On the cross, he switched places with us so that we have life not by avoiding the storms or going around them but by going right through them and coming out on the other side of chaos, sin, and death alive with him to experience and share the profound love and gracious power of God. Truly, this is the power of God to lift us up into life and love. Thanks be to God. Amen.
Preached on Sunday, August 13, 2023, at First Congregational UCC, Dubuque
In my life, I have a highlight reel of times when God gave me people who reached out to help me when things got heavy: small moments of blessing, like a time when I was impossibly sad and someone surprised me with a hug. Or when I was struggling in school and a teacher noticed and came over to talk with me. Or when I was feeling like all my friends had moved away and someone said, “Hey, we should hang out.” These were moments of answered prayer when people reached out their hands and lifted me up.
These moments have happened enough that I’ve started to recognize that when things are getting tough, I ask myself, “Have I actually prayed about this yet?” Usually the answer is no. Remembering that I haven’t prayed and have been carrying these weights by myself gives me a chance to slow down, breathe, and actually tell God what is happening and why it bothers me.
Realizing that I've forgotten to pray has been part of my spiritual life for long enough that I know things will be different after I do pray. The situation may not have really changed--the grief, hurt, or challenges have not vanished--but at least I won’t be carrying these burdens by myself. Jesus reaches out, lifts us up, and gives us companions along the way to share the journey with. It’s happened enough that I know something will be different after I cry out to God (sometimes literally crying) in prayer.
While these lonely prayers and little differences might not sound like much, I believe that this is how Christians live into God’s goodness as we sail through life together. Prayer and mutual support might not sound like they can tackle challenges of our day like racial prejudice, economic injustice, and climate change. But just as our salvation starts with Jesus grabbing hold of us, we share this love with others by reaching out and letting them know that they are not alone. With Jesus, we are blessed to care for this world like God cares for it. It might sound simple, but meaningful change begins with humble acts of kindness and compassion for the people and world around us.
Thinking of everything that gets in the way of caring about people, I had a moment of clarity when I realized that so much of the loud noise and conflict surrounding us these days mostly comes down to excuses for why we shouldn’t care. I started to notice that most of the fights surrounding us are people giving reasons why climate change isn’t a problem, why women’s rights isn’t a big deal, why economic disparity isn’t really so bad, why civil rights issues aren’t worth the effort, and so on. Eventually I noticed that I’m tired of hearing excuses for why I shouldn’t care about other people or take their experiences seriously. In contrast, I know that Jesus loves people unconditionally and helps them with no strings attached.
That’s Peter’s wonderful part of this story. Peter never did figure out how to walk on water. But he did learn what it meant to receive love from Jesus and be lifted him up in the middle of his own failures and weakness. Later in the gospel, Peter learned what it felt like to be welcomed back and embraced after he had denied even knowing Jesus. And after Jesus’s resurrection, Peter and the other disciples didn’t spend their time trying to walk on water. Instead, they shared the good news that we have a loving God who comes to us, who reaches out to us, who loves us unconditionally and invites us to love others that way, too. That’s Peter’s great part in this story: to receive God’s love and share it.
That’s the loving, encouraging tone I hear in Jesus’ voice when he is holding Peter and says, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” These words might sound like criticism of Peter’s failure. They might also sound like words that put pressure on us to have enough faith to do miraculous big things. But that adds pressure rather than lifts us up, which is why it doesn’t sound like Jesus to me. So I don’t hear “You of little faith” as a criticism. Instead, I hear it as a term of endearment, because Jesus loves his little ones and has compassion on them, as he said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.” Peter sinking in the sea was one of those little ones, just like you and me are beloved little ones of God, blessed to then be a blessing as we journey on this ship of life.
Finally, while it sounds in this story like Jesus saves us from the storms of life, we remember that in the end he saved us by going through the storm. On the cross, he switched places with us so that we have life not by avoiding the storms or going around them but by going right through them and coming out on the other side of chaos, sin, and death alive with him to experience and share the profound love and gracious power of God. Truly, this is the power of God to lift us up into life and love. Thanks be to God. Amen.
Preached on Sunday, August 13, 2023, at First Congregational UCC, Dubuque