I’m fresh from three weeks of vacation. The first half I spent at the beach taking long walks, eating well, and making such stressful decisions as whether or not to put on shoes.
The second half I spent at the rustic, old family cottage on a lake in western New York. My sons, their wives, my grandchildren, my sister and her family, my brother and assorted cousins, their children and grandchildren packed the place. After the solitude of the beach it was quite a change. It was delightful, and it was loud.
There came a rare moment late one lazy afternoon at the cottage this year. Some went off to my sister’s farm, while others went for a walk. A delegation was dispatched to the super market to shop for dinner. We didn’t do a lot of advance planning. That left just Jeff and me at the cottage. For a while the place was quiet.
Jeff is my brother-in-law’s best friend and an adopted member of the family for over twenty years. He’s a Special Ed teacher, and all the kids in the family vie for his attention, which he gives freely. He’s as kind hearted, considerate, and caring a person as anybody I know.
Last summer Jeff finally felt safe enough to tell us he’s gay. That made absolutely no difference to any of us. He’s as much a member of the family as I am. That made a difference to Jeff. Now he’s free to talk about things he couldn’t before, to be more fully and completely himself. That’s made a difference to the rest of us. It’s made Jeff even more fully and completely a member of our family.
So there came that quiet time, just the two of us sitting on the porch of the cottage looking out over the lake. Jeff had a question, “Dan, can God love me even though I’m gay?” My answer was quick. As a straight, white male born to privilege I have more to worry about than he does. Where did Jesus spend the bulk of his time? In the company of tax collectors who could have chosen a more honorable line of work.
In the company of women, who in that culture, were regarded as little better than slaves. In the company of children who weren’t wrapped in romantic adoration but considered a necessary evil to be put up with until such time when they became economically useful. Women and children have no choice over their gender or age. Jesus spent time with Samaritans who were heretics. Jesus performed a great many healings. Every one of them restored the individual to family and community from whom they had been cut off. We Christians believe when we see Jesus we see God in action. There can be no doubt Jesus – God – loves every manner of outcast. Who were Jesus’ critics? Straight, white males who were born to privilege. For the record, I’m not worried. God can love me even though I’m a straight, white male born to privilege.
I don’t know if my answer was helpful to Jeff. I hope so. He’s family. The fact that Jeff had to ask that question at all fills me with deep sadness and more than a little anger. Through the centuries religious people, good Christians have been mean-spirited and cruel toward certain classes of outcasts. My ancestors populated the Plymouth Colony, and we all know about the witch trials there. I hope the day will come when no one feels the need to ask, “Can God love me even though . . .” I don’t care what comes after the “even though.” I hope the day will come when all people, without distinction, will feel welcome and safe in a space we call – a sanctuary.
Aside from that hour on the porch with Jeff most of my stay at the family cottage was silliness and high energy fun which brings me to the photographs in today’s bulletin. I know there can be nothing as tedious as a grandparent insisting on showing off a great stack of photos of grandchildren. I’m only presenting two.
In the first photo we see my grandson Jared caught in the act of walking on water. Hey, if I’m going to brag about my grandson I might as well go all the way. In the second photo we see what happens when a four-year-old boy attempts to walk on water. He makes a very big splash.
The reason Jared failed in his attempt to walk on water is that he didn’t have enough faith. We know this from today’s Gospel reading.
Peter got out of the boat and walked on water. When the wind came up he became frightened and began to sink. Jesus catches him and says, “Oh man of little faith, why did you doubt?” The common assumption is that if Peter had had enough faith he could have pulled off the miraculous stunt and strolled about on the water indefinitely.
If that’s the point of the story it’s a cruel hoax. The truth is we are all subject to the laws of physics and biology. We and people we love get caught in storms, have accidents, get sick, struggle and suffer. That’s reality. If “enough faith” is supposed to miraculously keep our heads above water, but we find ourselves going down for the third time, we’re in trouble and we feel guilty about our “lack of faith.” The most difficult times in our lives become proof we don’t have “enough” faith. If we had “enough” faith we wouldn’t have these difficulties. It’s like rubbing salt into the wound.
Take another look at photo #1. There’s evidence there that Jared didn’t believe he could walk on water. Can anyone tell me what it is? Right, he’s wearing a life jacket. Long before Jared jumped off the dock, which is really what these pictures show, he put on a life jacket.
It turns out Peter showed he was a man of little faith before he even stepped out of the boat. From the boat Peter calls to Jesus, “Lord, if it is you, bid me come to you on the water.” Does that sound familiar? Much earlier in Matthew another character addresses Jesus in a similar way. Three times Jesus is challenged: If you are who you say you are, prove it with a miraculous stunt. Who was it who challenged Jesus? Peter wasn’t flawed for doubting and beginning to sink. If Peter had faith he wouldn’t have left the boat in the first place. He wouldn’t have put Jesus to the test. Two chapters later Jesus says to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan!” Even disciples can be demonic.
Faith is not about being able to walk on water. Faith is daring to believe that God is with us as when our boat is caught up in a fierce storm. The point of Peter walking on water is, don’t try this stunt at home! When the night is very dark and wind and waves are raging all around and you’re far from a safe harbor the best place to be is – in a boat. If Peter had been a person of faith he would have stayed in the boat with the others. Together they would have ridden out the storm trusting Jesus would come to them as, in fact, Jesus did.
So what might the boat represent? For that I need another visual aide, but there aren’t any boats around. Wait a minute. Yes, there are. There’s a boat here on the front of the pulpit. It is an ancient symbol of the church.
Yesterday there was a memorial service here for Wade Gindlesperger. A buffet lunch followed the service. Time honored traditions help us navigate the storm of grief together. Christian Education teaches our children Christian values and involves them in service. With them we weather the storms of mindless materialism and raw power. Every Sunday we’re reminded there’s something greater than our own narrow interests and that we are loved beyond measure. We are rescued from drowning in a sea of despair.
This brings me back to that quiet time on the porch at the old family cottage with Jeff, back to people who ask, ”Can God love me even though…” When Jesus comes to us I hope we can show there was room in this boat for everyone who is ravaged by suspicion and hate.
Faith is not about pulling off miraculous stunts. Faith is daring to believe we are, all of us, in the same boat, and God is with us.
Amen.