Is anyone dealing with fear this morning? Most of us in this room, in fact, all of us, know about fear first hand. Fear is or has been a reality for us. Fear is also a reality in the world of the Bible. From Isaiah in the Old Testament through the four Gospels to the Book of Revelation in the New Testament, the words "Fear not" are prominent. And for good reason! Fear is a universal reality.
The Bible speaks about fear in different ways. It says, "A woman...came in fear and trembling," "Fear fell upon him," "They were filled with fear," "Fear seized them all," "people fainting with fear." Such phrases help us understand that fear is a powerful emotion. It seizes people. It overcomes people. It can cause people to faint. Fear can also paralyze people; and it can turn normally good people into monsters.
In Biblical commentaries fear has been described as the most difficult emotion to control. It ranks right up there with anger, hatred, and erotic love in difficulty to control. Fear plays a part in this morning's Gospel reading. To the scientific mind the story is hard to understand let alone accept. But to the Biblical mind of two thousand years ago the story is loaded with meaning.
It's helpful to remember that for the Biblical writers the sea, whether the Mediterranean Sea or the Galilean Sea, represented danger. In the Book of Revelation's picture of the perfected universe, "There was no more sea." Not the kind of heaven I hope for (I can't imagine eternity without an ocean), but for the ancient Israelites the sea held terror. They were not a seafaring nation.
This morning's Gospel reading tells us the friends of Jesus were in a small boat on the Sea of Galilee. Their boat is described as battered by the waves—the literal translation is suffering because of the waves. Matthew's symbolism is clear. The Christians of his time were in a boat on the sea of life, and it was stormy. There were challenges—difficulties. For them their difficulties included persecution by a hostile government and rejection by the religious establishment. Their difficulties also included the ones we face: economic uncertainty, diseases of different kinds—including addiction, alienation, loneliness, and death—our own and the death of people we love.
In the story, which expresses Matthew's theology, Jesus comes to his friends in their difficulty. He comes walking on the water, treading on that which represents danger—the sea, exemplifying his power over it. They cry out in fear; his presence is outside their sphere of understanding. The reality of God's presence in life seems to be outside the box. It can cause terror, which is closely akin to awe.
I have challenged this congregation before to become comfortable talking about spirituality, even talking about God. Our culture regards such talk as outside the box, maybe even outside the acceptable. The Arts & Leisure section of today's New York Times showcases a man, Mark Pellington, whose soon-to-be-released film, Henry Poole Is Here, is different from his previous work. The article says Mr. Pellington "built a career making sleekly imagist music videos for Pearl Jam, U2 and Alice in Chains." It goes on to say of his new film that "the spiritual aspects of the story line may put off as many people as they attract." Why is spirituality repellant in our culture?
For Mr. Pellington, his life was going along just fine, until his wife died suddenly of a ruptured colon four years ago, leaving him to raise their two-and-a-half year old daughter. Events like that change us forever. Echoes of our Gospel story in which the friends of Jesus were rowing a small boat across a lake when a fierce storm enveloped them. Their lives were in peril. For Mr. Pellington and for the friends of Jesus, help seems to have come from the realm of the Spirit—from way outside the box.
Deliverance from fear, or deliverance from its power, comes in the form of trust. Fear, as some people explain it, is the absence of trust. The friends of Jesus who are in our Gospel reading, are learning to trust God as Jesus mediates God to them. They are beginning to trust that God is a loving reality, a force working for their wholeness, rather than an angry, punishing tyrant. In our story Peter seems unwilling to trust that Jesus is available to him and to his friends as they battle a sudden storm. Here it helps to read the story symbolically.
Jesus does come to them, but they are unwilling to trust that it really is Jesus. So Peter, as an act of doubt rather than as an act of trust, challenges Jesus. "Tell me to come to you if it really is you," he says. And Jesus speaks one word, "Come." Peter goes toward the outstretched hand of Jesus, and he is fine at first. But then his focus goes to the wind and the storm, and he begins to sink. The commentator who said that fear is the most difficult emotion to control also said that "fear is the most self-centered of the emotions." I don't think he was speaking pejoratively. I think he was observing that fear can cause us to get all wrapped up in ourselves when what we need to do is get out of ourselves. Isolating doesn't help us move beyond our fear. It can keep us stuck there.
The hand of Jesus extended to Peter in our story can be for us the encouraging presence of other people when we are afraid. Taking hold of that hand can mean taking steps to move out into life, into contact with supportive people, into contact with God, the God we know to be loving of us and of all the world. Peter in his fear allowed Jesus to hold him and to help him back into the boat, back into life. Accepting help when we are afraid can be hard for some people, especially for men in our culture. We're supposed to be able to take care of things on our own.
What can we learn from this morning's story about fear and how we respond to it? One thing I believe the story does not teach us is that if we have enough faith, things will work out the way we want them to. I don't believe it was up to Peter to generate enough faith so that he could live outside the laws of nature and the way things usually work.
Yes, I know there have been cases where previously diagnosed cancers have disappeared and the medical community has been mystified. Yes, I know amazing things have happened that remind us we are still learning the way the world works and what we thought was impossible can be possible. But amazing things have happened to people of little or no faith as well as to people of faith. I also know that people of strong faith have not had their prayers answered in the way they wanted and asked for. I don't believe that getting everything we want in life is connected to the degree to which we believe in God or trust God. You can hear that kind of message on television or in certain churches. But you won't hear it from me.
What I do find in this morning's story is that God not only can come to us in our times of fear, but that God wants to come to us when we are in difficulty. Jesus sought to be with his friends when their boat was being battered by high wind and huge waves. In the story Jesus acted in the way a deity could act—walking on the water. For us God comes in the presence of other people, in their words of wisdom and comfort, and in moments of special awareness when we are able to see beyond the ordinary and catch glimpses of unseen realities all around us.
As I thought about and re-read this story, it became clear to me that Peter's act of leaving the boat was not an act I would want to duplicate. At this stage of my life I am not interested in putting God to any kind of test. The story underlines the significance of the church as a community. In stained glass and in architecture, the Church is often depicted as a boat or a ship. In fact, the word nave, which means the central part of a church interior, comes from the Latin word for ship—navis.
Matthew was teaching the Christians of his time, and Christians of our time, that acting as super-star disciples and doing stunts is not the way to overcome fear or the other challenges that life holds for us. It is significant that in the story Jesus helped Peter get back into the boat, back into the community with his friends. Jesus did not invite Peter to take a walk with him on the surface of the sea, to impress the other people in the boat and make Peter feel special. It was in the boat that Peter would be able to trust the presence of God in the storm and in the calm that followed.
One of the things that causes fear for a lot of people is radical change, and radical change is part of life. In many ways Cheryl Pyrch's departure from Rutgers Church will be a radical change. She has been a mainstay of this community's life for several years, and now she is venturing out to become the pastor of another congregation. It is a wonderful step forward for her, and it will be a growth opportunity for the rest of us. If we become afraid, we can feel the fear and let it go, moving on with life in the very real trust that God is with us, with Cheryl, and the church in Philadelphia she is going to serve as pastor.
If there are other fears gnawing at anyone's heart this morning, the prescription is the same. Acknowledge the fear; name it. Talk about it with a trusted friend or with friends of your faith community. Don't isolate, which means avoiding contact with other people. Know that God's hand is extended toward you—God's helping hand, the hand that often takes the form of human companionship and the awareness of an unseen friend standing nearby. Make time for prayer and meditation, and get to work on a gratitude list.
God's love is the ultimate truth of the universe. We affirm that reality in our Presbyterian Brief Statement of Faith. "In life and in death we belong to God. And nothing in life or in death can separate us from the love of God," love that sustains us even in times of fear.
Thanks be to God.