Sinking & Faith

Rev. Debbie Cato
Matthew 14:22-33
Fairfield Community Church
August 20, 2023 

Mysterious God, we trust that you are at work among us, even when you are hidden from our sight. By the power of your Spirit, open our eyes to see you, our ears to hear you, and our arms to embrace your truth, as it comes to us in your Word. Amen.

 

Sinking and Having Faith

 

A priest, a rabbi, and a minister went fishing. When they reached the middle of the lake, the priest realized he had left his cooler on the shore. He jumped out of the boat, walked across the water, retrieved his cooler, and walked back to the boat. When the rabbi realized he had left his bait on the shore, he got out, walked across the water, got his bait, and walked back to the boat. The minister was intimidated and thought, “If they can do it, I certainly can.” He announced, “I forgot my lunch on the shore,” stepped out of the boat, and immediately sank. The priest asked the rabbi, “Do you think we should have told him where the rocks are?”[1]

Israel’s National Parks Authority announced in February 1999 that it had authorized the construction of a 13-foot-wide, 28-foot-long floating bridge in the Sea of Galilee. The bridge was to be submerged two inches below water and could accommodate fifty tourists who would simulate Jesus’ walking on water. Interestingly, there would be no handrails on the bridge, to enhance the “walking on water” effect. However, there would be lifeguards and boats nearby in case anyone fell off. And naturally, because it was a tourist attraction, there would be photographers available to capture the “miracle” for posterity.[2]

This is another well-known story in the Gospels -  Jesus’ walking on water. In each of the three Gospels, it occurs right after Jesus feeds the five thousand.  Jesus had the disciples get into a boat in the Sea of Galilea and He went up on a mountain alone to pray.  Remember, Jesus was trying to go off alone to grieve the death of his cousin John when he was met by the crowd that he ended up healing and teaching and then feeding.  Finally, he was going to get his alone time to grieve. 

A storm came up at sea and tossed the boat the disciples were in all about.  Finally in the morning, Jesus began walking out to meet the disciples.  But it terrified his disciples who thought he was a ghost.  Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid. It is I.”  In Matthew’s account, Peter boldly says, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water”.  Jesus says, ‘Come’.  (It sounds a little bit like “Come follow me,” doesn’t it?)  To his credit, Peter stepped out on the water in faith and walked on the water. Matthew doesn’t tell us how far Peter walked, only that he did. Peter’s action in getting out of the boat at Jesus’s command is a striking picture of faith.[3]

Then Peter takes his eyes off Jesus for just a moment and notices the strong wind and the waves. He remembers the storm all around him. He becomes frightened. Just like that, the story shifts from faith to fear. Isn’t that a realistic picture of every believer who chooses to follow Jesus? We step out in faith, eager to respond to Jesus’s invitation, but we soon take our eyes off Jesus and focus on the storms of life swirling around us. We doubt and find ourselves sinking.[4]  It’s very  human.

Why did Peter doubt? That’s a good question, especially considering this story occurs immediately after the disciples saw Jesus feed the 5,000 (really more like 10,000) with only five loaves and two small fish. Consistently throughout the Gospels, Jesus provides, He rescues, and He saves. What kept Peter from trusting in Jesus? What keeps us from trusting in God’s goodness? We have all experienced God’s power and grace. We have all been saved from something. And yet when trouble comes, when a crisis hits, we still doubt. We still don’t trust that God will come through.

Nadia Bolz-Weber, in her sermon on this text, said that so often we make it sound like Peter could have walked on water like Jesus if only he hadn’t looked down; if only he hadn’t seen the strong winds and the waves.  She says, we make it sound like the “Little Engine that Could.”

She goes on to say, “but taken to its logical conclusion, it also means that if you are not God-like in your ability to overcome all your fears and failings as a human….if you are not God-like in your ability to defy the forces of nature then the problem isn’t the limits of human potential, the problem is the limits of your faith and you should probably muster up some more.”[5]

Nadia says, “I guess I’ve just never heard that way of telling the story as good news.  Because for me, all the  “I think I can, I think I can” in the world doesn’t make the storms of life any less terrifying. All the power of positive thinking and high self-esteem on the planet doesn’t seem to do the trick to make me less afraid when the dangers of life surround me.

If anything, this “unlimited human potential” approach to religion means that a) the chaos of my life is still terrifying and b) now I also have to feel bad for not being able to transcend it through a sufficient amount of faith and self-esteem.”[6]  Another words, in addition to being in crisis, my faith sucks too!

In her sermon, Nadia goes on to say, “I mean, if we really could just muster up what it takes to do what Jesus did, (like walk on water), doesn’t that mean we wouldn’t end up really needing the guy anymore. I mean, if you can make yourself that Christ-like you’ll never again be in need of healing. Mercy and forgiveness will be things other people need but not you. But that doesn’t sound like faith to me. It just sounds like arrogance.”[7]

We need to notice that no one asked Peter to get out of the boat and walk toward Jesus.  The other disciples didn’t ask him to do that. Jesus didn’t ask him to do that either.  When Peter said,  “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water”, Jesus invited him.  But Peter made the decision.  He made the decision to make his faith harder than it had to be.  No one was questioning his faith.  Not his fellow disciples and certainly not Jesus.  Peter wanted to test it.  How often do we make things harder for ourselves than we need to?  How many times do we think we need to prove how strong our faith is?  God isn’t asking us to prove anything.  That comes from us.  Not from God. 

Like us, when the Sea got stormy and the winds swirled around them and the waves splashed over the boat and tossed it about, the disciples felt like God was far away.  Don’t we feel the same way when the storms come.  Where is God, we think?  I can’t see Him.  I don’t feel His presence.  He must not be here, we think.  And when everything is calm, there He is.  He was there all along.  We just couldn’t see Him.  We couldn’t believe.  In her sermon, Nadia Bolz-Weber said,  “I think the disciples’ failure was not unlike ours -  believing that if their lives were screwed up that must mean that God is far off.  Their failure was in buying the lie that calm waters are the only satisfying proof of God’s presence.  A lie that to this day can keep us from seeing that Jesus is not far off, but indeed is walking toward us in the chaos saying,  ‘Take heart, I am here, do not be afraid.’”[8]

 Peter took those first steps.  He got out of the boat and walked toward Jesus.  And then Jesus was there.  When Peter shouted, “Lord, save me!” Jesus stretched out his hand and caught him. 

I think true faith is all about having doubt.  But we are asked to take those first steps.  God will catch us.  He is there – whether we can see him or not.  Whether we sense his presence or not.  He is there.  “Take heart, I am here.  Do not be afraid.”   Amen.

 

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[1] Philip Gladden.  Presbytery Outlook.  LOOKING INTO THE LECTIONARY.  Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost — August 13, 2023.
[2] Philip Gladden.  Presbytery Outlook.  LOOKING INTO THE LECTIONARY.  Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost — August 13, 2023.
[3] Philip Gladden.  Presbytery Outlook.  LOOKING INTO THE LECTIONARY.  Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost — August 13, 2023.
[4] Philip Gladden.  Presbytery Outlook.  LOOKING INTO THE LECTIONARY.  Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost — August 13, 2023.[5] Nadia Bolz-Weber from The Corners.  8/13/2023.  SINKING
[6]   Nadia Bolz-Weber from The Corners.  8/13/2023.  SINKING
[7]  Nadia Bolz-Weber from The Corners.  8/13/2023.  SINKING
[8] Nadia Bolz-Weber from The Corners.  8/13/2023.  SINKING

There Is Enough!

Rev. Debbie Cato
Matthew 14:1-21
Fairfield Community Church
August 13, 2023 

Holy God, Since we do not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from your divine mouth, make us hunger for heavenly food, that it may nourish us today in the ways of eternal life; through Jesus Christ, the bread of heaven. Amen

There Is Enough!

  

Crowds of people follow Jesus wherever he goes.  People want to be healed by his miraculous power.  They want to hear his amazing teaching.  People are drawn to Jesus’ compassion.  They see the love on his face.  They hear it in his voice.  People are attracted to Jesus because of who He is and they follow him wherever he goes. 

Jesus just learned that his cousin John; the one who went before him to prepare people for Jesus’ ministry; the one who baptized him in the River Jordan; was killed by Herod.  The way John was killed was shocking. Jesus is grieving.  He wants to be alone and so Jesus gets into a boat to go somewhere that is isolated.  Some place where the crowds won’t find him.  But when his boat lands; there they are!  The crowds are waiting for him. 

Jesus looks around at the crowd and he sees how large it is.  A lot of people have come to see him.  He sees all those people standing there waiting for him and he is filled with compassion. They need Him.  Never mind his grief.  He heals their sick.  Jesus meets their needs. 

In fact, Jesus is so focused on the crowd of people that he loses track of time.  He doesn’t notice that it is getting dark.  His disciples come to him – probably tired and frustrated that Jesus got side-tracked.  Come on, Jesus!  It’s late.  We’re tired.  We’re hungry!  Besides, these people are probably hungry!  Let them go get some supper.

But Jesus has other ideas. “They do not need to go away.  You give them something to eat.”  He tells them.  You give them something to eat.

You give them something to eat.  Don’t you just hate it when you pray that God will take care of someone or something and then He turns it around and puts it on your heart to take care of it?!  God tells us that all the time!  I want YOU to do that.  It’s as if He means this “being the hands and feet of Jesus” thing. 

When asked about prayer, Pope Francis said, “You pray for the hungry. Then you feed them. That's how prayer works.”  You pray for the hungry. Then you feed them.  That’s how prayer works. God expects us to act.

Jesus expected the disciples to feed the crowd that evening, to take care of them.  He expected the disciples to act.  The Gospels tell us that there were five thousand in the crowd.  What they don’t say is there were five thousand men in the crowd.  Women and children were not counted, but you know there were women and children there!  And so it’s possible that the actual size of the crowd was double that!  It’s probable there were 10,000 people – or more -  in the crowd that day. 10,000 people to feed!  That would feel overwhelming, wouldn’t it?

After  looking around, they found a small boy who offered  his lunch.  Children don’t feel the impossible.  They will give what they have more willingly than us adults who can see that what we have is not enough.  “We only have five loaves of bread and two fish,” the disciples say to Jesus. Look at all these people and these measly loaves of bread and tiny fish!  It’s impossible!  We can’t feed the people ourselves!  What are you talking about, Jesus?!  We don’t have enough!  We can’t do it. 

Isn’t that what we think when we look at our limited resources and the tremendous need in our communities?  When we look at our dwindling numbers?  The size of our Sunday offering?  Our shrinking bank accounts?  We don’t have enough.  We can’t do that, Jesus! 

Jesus doesn’t say much.  He doesn’t chastise the disciples or explain anything to them.  Instead, he asks the huge crowd of hungry people to sit down, and he simply takes the loaves and the two small fish into his hands.  He thanks God for the food – Jesus prays over the small meal he’s about to share with this crowd of 10,000 or so people.  After praying, Jesus takes the loaves and the fish, and he gives them to his disciples to give to the people in the crowd. 

After everyone has enough to eat; after everyone is full; after 10,000 or so people have filled their bellies, the disciples pick up the leftovers so that nothing goes to waste.  Picture the disciples wandering throughout the hillside, among the thousands of people sitting around on the grass, gathering up leftover bread and fish in their baskets.  They must have been amazed to find enough leftovers for each of them to fill a basket!  What had seemed to the disciples to be not enough to feed the large crowd of hungry people was actually an over-abundance.  Each of the disciples filled a basket of leftovers.  Twelve baskets of leftovers!

We don’t know exactly how such a meager amount of food fed so many people. None of the Gospel writers tell us.  It must not matter.  The how isn’t what’s important.   

What we do know is that Jesus looks with different eyes than we look.  Jesus wants his disciples to know that God is a God of abundance, not a God of scarcity.  Jesus wants his disciples to know that there is enough for them to do what needs to be done. When God sees a need, God provides.

Just like those disciples that evening on the hillside, I think sometimes we are filled with doubt that we can do what God calls us to do.  I think we doubt because we live out of fear and see only what we don’t have. We live out of scarcity.  We are too old, we say.  We are too small.  We’ve never done it before.  We don’t have the money to do that.  We can’t do that.  No one will come.  No one will volunteer. It won’t work.  We don’t have enough.   And so we don’t do anything; we don’t even try. 

 Or, when we decide to do something; we don’t really believe it will work.  We don’t really put much effort into it.  We don’t get involved. We don’t volunteer.  We wait for it to fail.  We don't believe we can meet needs.  We forget that our God is a God of abundance, not a God of scarcity!

Clearly, whatever we have is not enough.  Yet, as this text points out, the “not enough” is not the final answer.   When placed in the hands of Jesus, what we have, becomes more than enough.  With Jesus, a little can become much, a few can become many, and the weak can become strong.

All Jesus expects from us is just a “little faith”.  He said, “If you have faith the size of just a little mustard seed, you can say to this mountain here, ‘Move over!’ and it will move over, and there will be nothing impossible for you.”

How might things be different if we worshipped and prayed and ministered out of Christ’s abundance?  If we believed big?  If we believed in God’s abundant provision?  Would we be more willing to share what we have like this small boy shared his meager lunch of loaves and fishes?  Would we actually believe that Jesus can multiply our gifts to meet the needs?  If we acted out of a mentality of abundance would we be more willing to provide opportunities for God to surprise us and transform our expectations?  

Jesus still performs miracles.  But for each miracle he performs, he asks something of us.  We cannot expect to just sit back and do nothing.  He asks us to act.  What is He calling you to do?  What is He calling this church to do?

May His kingdom come on earth, as it is in heaven.  Amen.

Weeds Everywhere!

Rev. Debbie Cato
Matthew 13:24-30 and 36-43
Fairfield Community Church
August 6, 2023

God of surprises, we come here from the weariness of the week, from various triumphs, from fears and doubts. Open our hearts to receive your surprising message of hope for all people, for we ask this in Jesus’ Name. Amen.

 

Weeds Everywhere!

I don’t know about you, but the weeds are growing rampant at my house.  They are in my lawn, they are filling in the area where the sewer was dug, they have filled my little patio in the back, and my so-called flower beds are full of weeds.  Weeds have taken over.  I have not planted them.  I do not water them.  I did not carefully prepare the soil as we talked about two weeks ago.  The heat has not discouraged them from growing. They just grow.  They are even in the cracks of the sidewalk! Weeds are everywhere!

This parable has similarities to the parable we heard a couple weeks ago – the Parable of the Sower.  In that parable, the farmer sowed his seed, and some landed on the path, some landed on rocky ground, some among thorns, and others on the good, rich soil that he had prepared. 

In this parable, the farmer has already planted his crop, the field is planted with good grain.  We can anticipate a good crop.  But the plot thickens when the “good grain” must compete for space and nutrients with weeds that unexpectedly appear. The weeds resemble wheat and thus pose a dilemma for those who work the land.[1] Once it is established that the presence of these weeds is the result of a deliberate, hostile act (an “enemy,” Jesus says, planted these weeds). Shouldn’t the weeds be swiftly removed? Gardening 101 would surely recommend such an approach. In a year when I am healthy, I certainly pull the weeds in my garden as soon as they grow.  Get rid of them before they spread is my motto!

But not this time, and this is the key point Jesus makes in this parable.  The workers have a sense of urgency to get those weeds pulled as quickly as possible.  But the owner says, no.  We’ll wait,   he says. “Let the wheat and the weeds grow together.  There is enough time to pull them. When it’s time to harvest, then the weeds will be removed and burned. Then the wheat can be safely harvested.[2]  But for now, the parable goes, we’ll let them grow with the wheat. In their infant stage, it’s too hard to tell the weeds from the wheat.

The parable, like so many in Matthew’s Gospel, paints a realistic picture of the world. Good and bad, constructive and destructive, are indistinguishably bound together. Helpful and harmful are mixed up all around us, and indeed even within us—as persons and as communities.[3]

In this parable, Jesus is acknowledging that evil exists.  His parable clearly teaches that there is evil in the world. Evil exists, side by side with good. Jesus is teaching that we must get rid of it – burn it as he describes.  He also acknowledges that it’s difficult to get rid of it. And sometimes, it’s hard to tell evil from good.

If we are honest, there is not a single one of us who does not know what Jesus is talking about.  Sometimes our own lives resemble the farmer’s infested field, with weeds and wheat intertwined in our souls, our hearts, and our minds.  The apostle Paul certainly knows it.  In Romans 7, Paul writes, “I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.”  Members of both AA and Alanon follow a 12-Step Program.  The First Step confesses, “We are power-less over alcohol and our lives have become unmanageable.”  Before an addict can overcome their addiction, they must admit and understand the control and power alcohol or drugs have over their life. Alcohol and drugs is the evil in their life. That is the first step to overcoming addiction.  The Fourth Step is to do a “fearless moral inventory,” sorting out the wheat from the weeds.[4] What is it in their life that they need to get rid of to stay on the path of sobriety?

So often we think of evil as the school shooter or the drunk driver that kills the family driving home from vacation. We think of evil as something “big”.  But the enemy’s sowing can be more subtle and harder to notice.  Countless distractions that derail us from doing what we need to do – like games on our phones or internet searches or watching a marathon of old TV shows. These things are not bad in themselves but when they derail us from some-thing we should be doing then that’s the enemy subtly creeping in and distracting us from doing something good.  

Maybe it’s the teacher facing a clique of parents whose criticism chokes out her creativity and care for her students. 

Perhaps it’s the employee who’s asked to look the other way “for the good of the organization” when something doesn’t feel right.

It could be the youth athlete who’s told to keep it to himself when he sees the coach breaking the rules or mistreating another athlete.

Or it could be us.  Saying a hurtful, angry word to someone we love in the heat of the moment.  Hurting a friend because we are hurting, and we lash out at someone we care about. Yes.  We too can be the perpetrators of evil.  Evil is in us.  None of us is exempt.  The enemy is waiting for an opportunity to pull it out of us.  That is why we must be rooted in Christ.  It’s easy to see how the hate and injustice of our time has gotten so out of control in our society and throughout the world. We may not be first century Galilean farmers, but we confront evil every day and have decisions to  make.[5]

 Just before telling this parable, the pharisees, leaders of Jesus’ own faith, try to trick him and begin their plot to destroy him.  They look like true leaders, but they are as false and deadly as any evil weeds planted among the wheat Jesus talks about in his parable.  Elsewhere in the Gospel, Jesus warns against “false messiahs and false prophets, “ those who cry, “Lord, Lord,” and seem faithful and caring, but who lead people astray and harm the community.  In our times, Stephen Haugk, the founder of Stephen Ministry, describes such people as “antagonists in the church.”  By any name -  antagonists, weeds, wolves, false Prophets – whatever we call them, they are a reality in the community of faith and this  parable acknowledges that hard truth.[6]

But interestingly enough, and this is important to notice - this parable also clearly cautions against a rush to judgement.  We cannot always initially tell what is a good plant and what is not.  Plants can look like weeds and weeds can look like plants.  The landowner knows this so he tells his workers to be patient and wait until the harvest, when they can see the difference between the weeds and the wheat by the fruit that is borne.  Evil does not produce fruit, but the wheat does.

Once they can determine the weeds from the wheat there is no more hesitation.  The separation is swift and harsh.  Jesus knows that failure to deal with evil allows it to spread, just as the seeds of noxious weeds allows them to multiply and infest other fields.

It’s no different than wanting our own children to have “nice” friends, to be part of a “good” crowd.  When they are young, we can choose their friends for them.  We can pick their friends from families we have things in common with.  Friends from church, families with similar interests, similar morals, similar parenting philosophies.  As our children grow, we lose some of that control and they start choosing their own friends.  We may not know the families.  When they go off to college all control of friendships is gone.  But by then we pray that what we have ingrained with our own parenting and family dynamics and philosophies and faith practices will guide our young adult children.  And we pray!

And here’s the good news, Friends.  We all make mistakes.  We’ve all chosen weeds over wheat a time or two in our lives.  We’ve all been weeds – we aren’t perfect.  At least I’m not.  And often we are weeds to the people we love the most.  But we are loved by a God who pours his grace over us each and every day. 

Just this week, I saw this on Instagram and posted it on my FaceBook page.  I don’t know who to credit.

 

“A thousand times

I have failed God,

Yet He keeps forgiving me.

That’s love.”

 

I’ll add – that’s grace. 

We must forgive those who inadvertently do evil against us.  Because we are no different.  But when we face true evil;  some-one who intends to be destructive.  Whose intention is to hurt and tear us down,  walk away.  Stay away.  Do not be a part of it. 

Evil exists in the world, we cannot deny it.  We must be discerning.  And we must remember that we are beloved children of God.  We are called to be the wheat.  Not the weeds.  Amen.

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[1] R. Alan Culpepper, Matthew: A Commentary, New Testament Library (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2021), 257.
[2] https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-16/commentary-on-Matthew-1324-30-36-43-6
[3] Arland J. Hultgren, The Parables of Jesus: A Commentary (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), 300-301.
[4] Feasting on the Word.  Year A, Volume 3.  Pentecost and Season After Pentecost 1.  Proper 11.  Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43.  Pastoral Perspective.  Talitha J. Arnold.  P. 262. 
[5] Feasting on the Word.  Year A, Volume 3.  Pentecost and Season After Pentecost 1.  Proper 11.  Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43.  Pastoral Perspective.  Talitha J. Arnold.  P. 262. 
[6] Feasting on the Word.  Year A, Volume 3.  Pentecost and Season After Pentecost 1.  Proper 11.  Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43.  Pastoral Perspective.  Talitha J. Arnold.  P. 262.