Readings

Jonah 2:1-9

Romans 9:1-5

Matthew 14:22-33

 

The readings this week remind me of the story about an Episcopal priest who is called to serve in a New England parish.  He works hard to gain the approval of all the members of the parish. Yet no matter how much he tries, or how wonderful the things he accomplishes, some members of the congregation always seem to find fault with him. Finally he thinks he has made some real inroads when two prickly parishioners invite him for some fishing at their angling association. All goes well out on the lake until its time for lunch, and they realize the priest has forgotten their lunch sack ashore. Ever helpful, the priest simply says, “That’s o.k. I’ll go get it.” And with that, he steps from the boat and begins walking across the water to the distant cabin on the shore.  The two parishioners stare at him for a moment, until one of them breaks the silence.  “Look at that. He can’t even swim.”

There are many connections between the three readings today. At the simplest level, these passages from Jonah and Matthew seem to make a similar point. Life will be filled with storms that test our faith, but the saving grace of our Lord, Jesus Christ, will bring us back to calm waters. 

The story of Jonah, swallowed by the whale and spewed forth three days later, is surely one of the most memorable in the Old Testament. We all know Jonah, perhaps from Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel ceiling, as the prophet who symbolizes Christ’s resurrection. “To the roots of the mountains Jonah sank, barred in forever by the earth beneath him. Yet he was brought up from the pit, three days later, emerging from the mouth of a whale.”  Not surprisingly, and certainly not coincidentally, the mouth of hell throughout much of the history of art, especially in Northern Renaissance Art, is often configured to represent the mouth of some fantastical leviathan. 

Jonah is also a symbol of Christ’s sacrificial offering.  After all, it wasn’t by accident that Jonah fell into the raging sea.  He asked to be thrown overboard, knowing his sacrifice would save his shipmates from certain death.  Like Jesus, who takes upon himself the sins of all mankind, Jonah knows that his sin alone has caused such a tempest and that his death is the only atonement God will accept.

There’s a lot more to Jonah’s story.  Called by God to preach redemption to the Assyrians in Nineveh, Jonah blatantly refuses to obey God’s will. He flees, ultimately finding himself at sea with a vast array of gentiles, all of whom his willfulness places in grave danger once God calls the seas into action. It seems that Jonah did not want to share the blessings of his Hebrew God with the Assyrians. Even after he fulfils his promise to God and goes to Nineveh to preach, he is angered by their repentance.  Jonah persists in manifesting his own will, and despite his lengthy discussion with God on the matter, Jonah never quite gets it. 

From our perspective and I imagine from Paul’s, Jonah’s selfish obstinacy, placed in the context of God’s favor to the gentile Assyrians,  can be understood as an ill omen to the Jewish nation, as they are ultimately rejected from the creation of the church and the Gentiles substituted in their place.  

This year, in the Redeemer’s Small Bible Study Group, we studied the Acts of the Apostles.  To a certain extent, the Acts chronicles the ultimate abandonment of Jerusalem, as the good news spreads through the gentile world to Rome.  Looking backwards as a Christian, God’s path for the spread of his word seems clear. But in this week’s passage from Paul, we hear his human cry, a cry of attachment for the people he loves.  His identification with those that reject Christ leads him to offer, in anguish, his own salvation for theirs.

Paul’s language may well be for dramatic effect, as he has assured us that nothing can separate us from the love of Christ.  But his willingness to save those who consciously and stubbornly reject the grace of god parallels God’s love for each of us.  That love is constant and abiding, whether we welcome the path the Lord places before us, like Peter, or flee from it, like Jonah. 

Jonah may have rejected God, but God never abandons Jonah. At the time of Jonah’s greatest travail, God was there to answer his prayer.  Just as importantly, God chose to work through Jonah in miraculous ways, even though Jonah himself refused to trust God implicitly. Note, for example, that Jonah’s shipmates, after throwing him overboard at his own behest, were converted to the God of Israel.  And the citizens of Nineveh, despite Jonah’s anger, were spared God’s wrath. 

Through the example of Jonah we therefore see that God will use us for his purpose and in his ways even when we hide from him.  God will test us. By testing us he shows his love for us and brings us closer to him. By testing us, he teaches us to listen to discern his voice, to be instruments of his will, in his way and in his time.

Unlike Jonah, Peter and the apostles weren’t fleeing from the Lord.  Indeed, they were sent ahead by boat at the Lord’s request after feeding the multitudes with loaves and fish.  They had a special command from their Master to go to sea, and they were therefore going about the Lord’s work.  And yet, once they were out on the Sea of Galilee, a storm arose.  We find comfort in this tale;  it can hardly be a new thing for us, as Christ’s disciples, to meet with storms in the way of our duty.  We can always find the love of God in the challenges he puts before us if we but look to him for help. 

There are three specific aspects of the Storm on the Sea of Galilee that I would like to recall.  First, the terror that seized the apostles when they saw what they thought to be a ghost walking towards them on the water’s surface. Second, Peter’s desire to walk to Jesus, but only if so commanded.  And finally, what happens when Peter focuses on the howling wind instead of our Lord.

Whenever I read this story, I assume that the apostles were frightened by the storm itself. Perhaps they were. On the other hand, such storms on the Sea of Galilee were evidently common, and there is no indication in the text that the apostles were in fear of drowning.  We know that some of them, like Peter, could swim. Matthew specifically states that they were frightened by what appeared to be an apparition walking on the water. I’d like to dwell on this for a moment because it really has everything to do with our most basic fear: the fear of things we don’t understand. Miracles-- like walking on water-- are things reason cannot understand. 

In each of our lives, events will occur that have an other worldly component to them.  We don’t talk about such things, most likely for fear of appearing foolish. But I do not believe these occurrences happen by accident. Rather, I believe they are yet another incidence of God reaching out to us. How many times have angels appeared to us, only to be brushed off?  How terrifying is the notion of misinterpreting a divine voice? How fearful are we of stepping out of our Cartesian reality?  How willing are we to dwell on things unseen, as we profess every Sunday in the Nicene Creed? What efforts do we make to free ourselves from the pillory of pride? 

The apostles’ fear is very real. They are terrified.  What we learn from that terror is that the appearance of deliverance can occasion perplexity. Like the apostles, we must listen carefully for God’s voice. “Take courage; it is I; Do not be afraid.”  We must probe and pray, just as Christ removed himself from the apostles to pray to his father at the beginning of this episode Matthew recounts. If we do, he will show us the way to follow him.  Peter, a model of Christian behavior, yearns to take action and go to his Lord. But only if commanded. Only if it be the will of God.

One lesson in this would seem to be that we must not be rash in our desire to serve God, for in so doing we risk willfulness.  We would risk walking on water merely for the purpose of walking on water, rather than for coming to God. Let’s reconsider Peter as he responds to the Lord’s command and steps out of the boat. While he kept his eye fixed upon Christ and his mind focused upon his word and his power, he indeed walked upon water.  It was only when he took human measure of the danger he was in that rational fear weakened his faith.  His weakened faith caused him to begin to sink.  Note that he didn’t drop through the water’s surface like a stone, but only began to sink gradually, giving him adequate time to turn his attention back to God. Such is the care of Christ concerning true believers. 

Like Peter’s, our faith may be imperfect.  But if we continue to listen to the Lord, our faith, tested by our human frailties, will continue to strengthen.  Unlike Jonah, we won’t immediately be cast to the bottom of the sea. With time, with prayer, with discernment, we will learn to see God’s hand whenever it is held out to us.

Many of us listen for the word of God. We seek direction and strength and yearn for a confident sense of mission.  Most of us, however, are like the eleven other apostles in this tale.  They remain in the safety of the boat, together with the other passengers. Peter, however, takes a risk. He steps out of the boat and into the water.  And so must we. 

                                                                        John S. Paolella

                                                                        Sunday, August 7, 2005