Sermon on August 13th, 2023

Have you ever looked at a picture and become so mesmerized by some detail of it that you didn’t see all the other parts of the picture that were lurking in the background? What happens when those extra details are brought to your attention? Does it shift your perspective and make you appreciate the picture more, soaking in the newly revealed details? Or does it destroy your view of the picture? Do the extra details take away from the viewing experience and lessen your enjoyment of the picture?

The picture Café Terrace at Night by Van Gogh, a picture I had looked at numerous times but didn’t think much of, is one such picture for me. It has been noted by some that the serving man, dressed in what looks like white robes and who is surrounded by 12 seated patrons, may in fact be a modern representation of Jesus and the disciples at the last supper. What was a picture of little importance to me suddenly becomes very intriguing as I think about what Van Gogh might have been driving at by offering a more modern-day adaptation of the last supper. Where would the Last Supper happen if it happened in our own day and age? A nice picture becomes a thought provoking one which asks some thought-provoking questions.

This can happen not just with art, but with music and literature. I am currently listening to a podcast that is working through the Lore of JRR Tolkien’s Middle Earth. I have read that material many times and yet the details the podcaster brings up have deepened and enriched my love for all things Tolkien.

We can be like that. We can become so myopic that we come to view everything we encounter through a very narrow lens. Yet, by doing so, we can miss so much beauty and joy and illumination.

Scripture is no different. We come to scripture with what is called our own hermeneutic. Now, a hermeneutic can be explained as a perspective, but it is more than just a perspective. It is also everything that drives our views and forms our thoughts and opinions. We bring all of that with us every time we read scripture. And while there is nothing wrong with this (in fact, it is unavoidable), becoming aware of our hermeneutic helps us grow.

Our reading for Matthew is a perfect example. How many of you, when you read this story, focus on the story of Peter and how he set out on the water at Jesus’ behest? Likely, most, if not all of you. It seems to be the focal point of this passage. The sheer number of sermons which have been generated from the text would dwarf the imagination. We have likely heard our fair share of them. The message of those sermons would have ranged from “Peter should have had more faith. This is a story of his failure.” Or “Peter managed a few steps. Although he ended up faltering, he did well to get that far. We need to have the faith of Peter, as imperfect as it was.” Or “Look at the miracle that Jesus made happen. He has Peter walk on water. Through Jesus, all things are possible. Thanks be to God.”

While there is nothing wrong with using this portion of the story as the focal point, we can start to miss other portions of the narrative if that is all we focus on. For example, as we read this, do we ever wonder how the other disciples reacted to what Peter just did? Do we ever consider what Jesus’ tone was in the text? Was he angry or disappointed, as he is often portrayed as, or was his tone more encouraging or loving towards Peter? And how many times did we ever stop and consider what Jesus just did in this text? He walked across the wind swept sea and it was into this sea that Peter took his steps upon the water. Only after Peter was taken back to the boat did Jesus stills the storm.

We get so fixated on seeing this story as a comment on our own personal faith journeys and how we need to trust in God to go where God is taking us that we don’t always pay attention to the rest of the details. Peter takes his steps during a storm. Jesus stills that storm. Jesus walks on water during that storm.

How would the story change if it moved away from Peter and took into consideration these other details. Perhaps, when these details are taken into consideration, we are left with something that is less human centered and works centered (ie. we need to trust more, or we will always sink, just as Peter did). Consider this:

Like Peter, we are called out and to do so, we must trust. But we are not called out into calm and peaceful times. We are called out into the storms of life. This is not a test to show how faithful we are. This is the reality of our call. Life is filled with storms and deep uncertainty. And we are being called to serve. But, Jesus knows, even as the call is being issued, that the world will be too much for us. So as we are attempting to follow but are inevitably failing, Jesus is there, showing us the way and pulling us out of the water and turmoil of the world so that we are not lost under the weight of the world, a weight we could never manages to carry if Christ wasn’t already bearing the burden for us. Christ doubles down on this act of grace and salvation by calling into stillness the worst of what threatens us. Suddenly, we find we can walk forward, not because we have dug down deep and have become better people. Rather, we can do so because Christ is there, leading us, pulling us from the depths and quelling the worst of what would seek to destroy us.

This story, suddenly, does not have us at its center. This was never Peter’s story. It was never our story, a story of how we can be worthy of God’s call and somehow more faithful than Peter. It is not anthropocentric. It is God centric. God, as in all things, is the mover and the driver of this story. But we don’t always see it when we look at one small piece of the picture that the narrative offers us.

That is the beauty of the Bible. The more we see the pieces that make up the whole picture, the more we begin to see ourselves in that picture. I don’t see myself as brave as Peter. I don’t think I would have stepped out of the boat. And if I did, Jesus would have had to bring his diving gear because I would have sunk straight to the bottom. But in the wider picture, I do find myself. I see myself in the great picture of God’s call, just trying to do my small part and knowing that I am only able to so because God is with me. I can’t walk on water. I can’t heal the sick and suffering. But I can, through God’s grace, do my part. I can do that because, in the end, this is God’s story. I can do so because my life, like your life, is built on God’s love and through that love, we can follow, even into windswept times we live in, and we can make a difference.

May our eyes be opened to see God in all things. May we know Christ with us, as we work and journey and live the lives that God has set before us.

Let us Pray

Christ with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ in me,
Christ beneath me,
Christ above me,
Christ on my right,
Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down,
Christ when I sit down,
Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.
I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
of the Creator of creation.

Amen.


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Sermon for May 14th: Mother’s Day