The Word Above the Winds and Waves ~ Matthew 14:22-33 ~ Ninth Sunday after Pentecost

It was St. Patrick’s Day, 1936.  You would’ve needed a boat to reach our church.

Leechburg was submerged in what was one of the most devastating floods in this region’s history.

As you can see, the loss of homes and livelihoods was tremendous.  Even greater still was the loss of precious human lives.

One wonders how a small town like Leechburg could survive this.  One wonders how this church could survive this.

Two decades later, the flood was not finished wreaking its havoc upon our church. 

Pastor Mont Bowser, who served this church in the late 1950’s, addressed the council while holding in hand a piece of a wooden beam that supported the sanctuary floor.  He squeezed it in his hand, and it crumbled to pieces and fell upon the floor.  The entire building was in imminent danger of collapse. 

How can a congregation survive in those kinds of circumstances?  Yes, it was the 1950’s, the “Golden Era” of American Protestantism, but still—what do you do?  How do you get through that?

And property losses pale in comparison to the kinds of devastation a person can suffer to their health, relationships,

Next thing you know, you’re Peter.  Once upon a time, you “walked on water.” Prayers were answered, problems were overcome, and there was never a question that Jesus wasn’t there, carrying you through it all.  But then a major storm rolls in.  Instead of going away, it just gets worse.  You cry out to Jesus, just like you’ve always done.  But the sky gets darker…  Lightning crashes…  The waves rise.  You get the feeling that you’re going under…  You’re all alone.  No hand is holding onto you.  You can’t take anymore…

Peter most certainly believed this as he floundered upon the waves.  He began going under the second he noticed the strong winds.  Jesus told him he could walk on the water—but Peter believed the word of the wind.  And down he went. 

These are the hurricanes of life.  They speak very powerfully against our faith.  They become the devil’s megaphone, tempting us to believe that all hope is lost.  Your faith is in vain.  You’re not going to make it.  You are going under. 

This is the power of fear.  As the storms rage, the devil works overtime to fan the flames of fear—because fear is the opposite of faith.  Without faith, there is no hope.  A life without hope is the most miserable existence that can be.  And that’s not all… 

Fear has the power to turn us inward, so that we do nothing in love.  We act only for the sake of our own survival.  This, too, is a miserable existence. 

But no matter how bad the storms get, Jesus never leaves any of God’s children to fall into the hands of death and the devil.  Jesus meets you in the storm, just as he meets Peter here today. 

He comes as a still, small voice speaking above the winds and the waves: “Take heart, it is I.  Do not be afraid.”  This is his answer when we cry, “Lord, save me!” 

Faith begins with these simple words.  We may not know it or see it at the time—but Jesus does respond.  He comes and takes hold of you—and the power of his resurrection becomes your sure defense even as the storm rages on.  And it is by listening to Jesus; by turning your focus away from the winds and the waves to where your help comes from, that the power of his grace will free you from dreadful grip of fear.  His desire for you is find rest in the peace and comfort he brings. 

Secondly, his desire is that you live in courage and hope, so that you may live in the enjoyment of all the gifts he gives.  As a child of God, fear should never exercise control of you—nor should God’s enemies that are sickness and death; sin and Satan.  The life of Christ is a life of resurrection; in which hope and newness flourish over and against even the most powerful storms. 

Thirdly, Jesus’ desire is for you to live in love—because love is the healing balm for every wound.  We who receive the abiding care of Jesus Christ are formed into those who will give it.  Lots of people in this world are bruised and battered by poverty and economic injustice; loneliness and rejection; sickness and disease.  But what a gift it is for anyone to never have to face those enemies alone.  The presence of Christ is a gift we give simply by being present; abiding with those who suffer; doing whatever is in our power to do to make a difference.  We give Christ as we pray for and encourage one another; building up others in the faith as we tell our own stories of what Christ is doing for us.  We give Christ as we forgive sins and reconcile with those who’ve offended us.

One thing that can be said is that we may very well see Christ most clearly in the midst of life’s greatest storms.  The power of God is sufficient to take what are the deepest and most painful hurts and use them to bring you into the life that God desires.  We rise up, to stand strong against the worst of the worst by crying out to Jesus; by focusing not open the winds and waves but on the soft and gentle words of Christ, “take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”  We rise up to take hold of the resurrection life of our Savior—and become living signs of the promise that Jesus is with us always.  All the storms will give way to the coming Kingdom of God.