You Can't Love Jesus and Hate His Wife

I thought this was worth sharing. It comes from some of the materials from a conference I recently attended.

You can't love Jesus and hat his wife. by Ed Stetzer
Get this. I'm standing in a reception line with my wife following a speaking engagement when this guy comes up to me and starts telling me how he's read all my books, has heard me speak on several occasions and told me how influential I've been to his ministry. (Please go on!)

He talks about how he's introduced a number of his pastor friends to all things Stetzer and how they actually traveled across country to be at this event. Wow!

But then, he starts verbally ripping on my wife like she's not even standing there. She's right there! He thinks my wife, who has been the love of my life and a partner in ministry for 25 years, is a drain on my ability to influence others. He says she's obsolete and that the "old girl is a little faded."

I'm in shock. Suddenly, the cheezy Christian motto of the 1990s flashes through my mind: What would Jesus do? Turn the other cheek? Pray for his enemy? Hand this guy His cloak?

I'm about to jo Jack Bauer on him.

I think Jesus would have been ticked - like any normal husband would be. You see, the church is the Bride of Christ. And, you don't mess with a man's wife.

The story about my wife is made up. The reality of what professing believers of Christ do to and what they say about His bride - the church - is not. Ant it is exponentially more serious than saying my wife is, "a little faded." (And I would take that pretty seriously!)

You cannot say you love Jesus and abuse His wife.

Unfortunately, there is a prevailing wind currently blowing across Western Evangelicalism that has caused an ecclesialogical (church) drift into dangerous waters. Research stalwart George Barna documented the tread in a longitudinal study released in 2005. One alarming element of the study showed that 70% of respondents found their primary means of spiritual expression through the local church in 200, but by 2025 he predicts those numbers to decrease by at least half. Did you get that? Now I have some quibbles about the numbers and more about the theology. But, if Barna is right, in less than 20 years, only 30-35 people out of 100 will believe that the church holds primary significance in their relationship with Christ. That's stunning for someone who loves the church (like I do.)

We were surprised that in our recent research on young adult dropouts, the more common reasons young adults dropped out of the church were lifestyle reasons. They got too busy, moved too far away, or experienced some other life change. And the church did not make the new list of priorities. Nice.

My question is how can anyone give even a cursory read to the New Testament and miss the supreme importance give to the church by the One who is most Supreme? Paul says that we were once "alienated and hostile in mind because of [our] evil actions. but now He has reconciled [us] by His physical body through His death, to present [us] holy, faultless and blameless before Him." Paul goes on to say that he rejoices in his suffering because his suffering is "completing in [his] flesh what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for His body, that is the church" (Colossians 1:21-24)

Paul was willing to take a beating for the church because Jesus submitted to a brutal murder "to make her [the church] holy, cleansing her in the washing of water by the word. He did this to present the church to Himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, but holy and blameless." (Ephesians 5:26-27)

Seems like fewer and fewer people are wiling to take the church seriously, let alone take a beating for her.

In the wake of books like UnChristian and They Like Jesus but not the Church, I wonder if people have been tempted to throw the baby out with the bath water. I, for one, still believe that not only is the church still relevant, it is indispensable, as we look toward the future.

This conference got me thinking about another point, the idea that contemporary Christians have wondered away from the idea that ours is a shared, communal faith - something we do together. In the grand scheme of things it is only fairly recently that people could even read the Bible on their own, much less develop any sort of "Jesus and me" spirituality. But that is a discussion for another time.

A Letter from Jesus

Peace Lutheran Church

Christmas Eve

Dec 24^th, 2007 – 11pm

David Hively

I don’t know if this happens to anyone else, but I think it is a sign of the times. Every so often I open my email to find some new link or video is making its rounds. Not too long ago I received one of these emails. I followed the link and found a letter from Jesus. Well, not really from Jesus, but from some pastor writing as though he was Jesus. It was an angry letter, from a bitter Jesus who was upset by being left out of Christmas. He was angry about being replaced by Santa and not being given any gifts. But that really doesn’t capture the Jesus I know. That isn’t the way my Jesus acts towards his creation. So I started thinking about what a letter from Jesus might actually sound like.

A letter from Jesus:

My dearest family,

As you well know, we are getting closer and closer to my birthday. Every year there is a celebration in my honor and it looks like people are planning parties for this year as well. During this time there is lots of shopping for gifts, radio and TV ads, and across the world everyone is talking about how my birthday is getting closer and closer. It is really very nice to know, that at least once a year, some people think of me. It makes me very happy to see that people have used this time as way to take care of each other, especially the poor, the widows, and orphans. I would love to see people make that a year-round project. Remember, I came into this world as a poor vulnerable baby, so I know what it is like to have to depend on someone else.

I’ve seen lots of signs around that say, “Jesus is the reason for the season.” That’s true, but YOU are a part of the reason for the season too. You see, God the Father sent me to earth, so that you could have everlasting life - so that you would have not just any kind of life, but the kind of life that is abundant and overflowing with love. I came to set you free from the power of sin, and to ask you to share in my mission. Some of your brothers and sisters are out there right now: bringing good news to the poor, giving sight to the blind, setting captives free, curing the sick! There is so much to do! But, don’t worry – I’ll give you everything you need and walk beside you on the way.

I know that it can be hard to think of me amidst the hustle and bustle of life. It seems like things move faster and faster every year. There is so much to do – so many things to get ready. There are presents to buy and wrap, cookies to bake, rooms to clean and decorations to hang. I know that these things are important to you, but please remember to take time to enjoy some of the gifts that you have already received. Take a walk one afternoon and see all of the wonderful animals that I created to share the world with you. When you sit down to a meal, think about all of the people whose gifts went into making that meal possible. Take a look around this room and see all of the brothers and sisters that I have gathered together here so that you can encourage and strengthen each other. I’m glad that you were able to make it tonight. I hope that this time that you spend in worship will fill you with hope and joy and a sense of peace that passes all understanding.

For all of its glitz and glamour, this time of year can be hard for some people. Even when things look all happy and cheery on the outside, sometimes the insides don’t match. Sure, things look the same this year. The lights are up again. The tree is back where it belongs. Everything looks right, but this year feels different. Maybe there is a new face at the dinner table – or maybe there is one less. Things just aren’t the way they used to be. No matter how hard you fight to keep them the same, to maintain those traditions, time keeps on moving by. I’ve seen a lot of traditions come and go. But know this – my love for you is more than a tradition. It is more than a once a year holiday. It has been there since the beginning of the beginning and there is nothing that you could ever do to make me love you less.

I can see that there is a lot of pain in my world right now. Many of my children do not have anyone to share this holiday with them. Some of my children are far away fighting in wars. Some do not have enough to eat. This holiday is for them too. While I was on earth I felt how heavy your burdens can be. I felt your pain. I know your grief. Really, that’s why I came to earth in the first place – to be with you in ALL circumstances, even the tough ones. Please don’t forget that I am ready to hear from you whenever you want. And that I am ready to take those heavy burdens from your shoulders.

I miss you. I can’t get enough of hearing from you. I know that it seems like a long time ago that I left, but I want you to know that you are still very much on my mind. You are so very precious to me.

My dear family, be good to each other. Pray for each other. Celebrate with the people who are celebrating, cry with the people who are crying. Do the best that you can to live in peace with each other. Hold tightly to me, because even though I started out as a little baby, I grew to take all of your sins on myself, to die on the cross, and to rise again so that you can have eternal life. I’ve placed in your life a light that shines against the darkness in the world. Take that light and pass it on to others. I want this night to be special for you. I want you to feel my presence with you, to know the peace that I have come to bring, and to trust that there is nothing in this entire world that could ever change just how very much I love you.

May the peace of Christ fill your hearts, minds, and souls. Merry Christmas

The Prince of Peace

Peace Lutheran Church

Peace on Earth?

The Prince of Peace

Dec 22^nd, 23^rd

David Hively
I’ve heard a lot in the last few weeks about the various traditions that people have. The particular things that make this time of year special for them. I’ve heard stories about trips to see families, about going out to find that perfect tree. But I’ve also hear that there are several people in this congregation who collect nativity sets which they proudly display this time of year. Some people call them crèches. But they are these sets of figurines that are fashioned to represent all of the major players in the story of the birth of Jesus. You have seen these, right? There is one just to the left as you enter through the sliding doors in the back of the sanctuary. They make for these beautiful scenes, frozen in time where all is calm and all is bright. The faces are all looking down, peering at the newborn Jesus. Some are even kneeling out of reverence for this tiny king. Some of the sets even have angels sounding a trumpet to herald the arrival of the Prince of Peace. The scene is so idyllic, so serene, so full of – peace. But what about this baby Jesus? We call him the Prince of Peace, but I wonder just how much peace he brought into the lives of the people with whom he shares this scene.

Lets work our way in from the outside. The Magi. We know these guys by a lot of different names: Magi, Kings, Wise Men, Astrologers. And we put them in the scene with the shepherds and angels and little baby Jesus, but most biblical scholars agree that the magi didn’t make it to Jesus on Christmas night. They think that it might have taken them as long as two years to find Jesus. It isn’t a part of our text for today, but these guys had quite a trek on their hands. And as wearying as traveling can be in our own time, I’m not even sure that I can comprehend what all these guys went through to catch a glimpse of the boy Jesus. We show them riding camels, wearing fine clothing, and bringing expensive gifts. But would they have called Jesus the Prince of Peace? Had he made their lives any easier? If anything their quest was long, tiring, and dangerous – especially with so many valuables on hand.

Moving a little further in you find the shepherds. You have to feel for these guys too. They were basically homeless. They slept in the fields with the sheep. And probably not their own sheep either, someone else’s sheep. They had to do the hard, dirty part of tending the sheep. They were the lowest of the low, the bottom of the social ladder. They were held in such low regard that shepherds were not allowed to be called as witnesses in court cases – they were just too unreliable to be trusted. And it was these guys who were out in the field one quiet night only to have the heavens torn open and a host of angels come pouring through. It is no wonder the first thing that the angels have to say is – “Do not be afraid.” These lowly shepherds are the first ones to find out about Jesus’ birth. They can’t be witnesses in court and yet God makes them into the first witnesses of the coming of the Messiah. Then the shepherds abandon their flocks, their livelihoods to go out in search of the boy Jesus. Do you think that Jesus’ coming brought peace into the shepherd’s lives?

And what about Mary? She usually gets to be the closest. He face shows some blend of wonder and adoration. But things weren’t so easy for Mary either. She’s engaged, but ends up pregnant, and not even by the man to whom she’s engaged. She has conceived in a way that nobody before her or since has ever conceived. You have to wonder how many people took her seriously. Who really believed her?

And do you remember what she is told about this baby? If you have you Bibles flip open to Luke 2:34,35 (page in your pew Bibles). Simeon is an old man and it has been revealed to him that he will see the Messiah. When Mary and Joseph bring baby Jesus to him, look at what Simeon says, “This child is destined for the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thought of many will be revealed.” And as if that isn’t unsettling news enough he says to Mary, “and a sword will pierce your own soul too.” That doesn’t sound very much like what one might expect from the Prince of Peace.

Joseph is the character in the nativity that gets most of the attention in our Gospel text for today. We know that Joseph and Mary were engaged. But engagement worked differently in Jesus’ time than it does in our own. In our day the couple falls in love. According to tradition the young man asks the young woman’s father for her hand in marriage, and then they live happily ever after. But in Jesus time marriages were legally binding contracts and had a very large financial component to them. They also bore many marks of patriarchy that we would not tolerate today. In order to marry, the young man needed to pay a fee, a dowry, in order to be married. Now, sometimes a young man would express an interest in marrying a young lady, but not have enough money to pay the dowry. But to make sure that she would still be available to him when he was able to afford the dowry, he could make a sort of down payment – paying a portion of the dowry to claim the woman as his own. There would be a wedding and everything, but after the ceremony, the young lady went back home with her dad. From the description in our Gospel text for today, it seems that this is the arrangement that existed between Mary and Joseph. He had paid a part of the dowry, but not the whole thing. So, in the eyes of the law, they were engaged.

When Joseph finds out that Mary, his betrothed, has become pregnant and not by his own doing – he tries to do what is right under the Law. He plans to dissolve the contract. He could have her dragged to the town square and stoned for adultery, but instead he chooses a path of mercy and decides for a quiet divorce. But Joseph hears from God that he is to take Mary as his wife without regard to the Law or to the social customs of the day.

We talk about the baby Jesus and we call him the Prince of Peace. But one by one we have seen that the people that we most closely associate with Jesus’ birth had very little peace brought into it that night. There must be some other meaning when Isaiah identifies Jesus as the Prince of Peace.

The famous news man, Paul Harvey, tells the story about a family on Christmas Eve. This family had a tradition where the Mother and children would go to the Christmas Eve service, and the Father would stay home and read the paper. When the family returns home from church, they would all gather to open up their presents. The Father was not an evil man, but he just couldn’t believe in the childhood stories anymore of God coming as a baby in a manger. As the family left for church, he opened up the evening paper and began to read by the fireplace. Suddenly, he heard tapping on the window. It was a bird flying against the glass of his window trying to get out of the snow into the warmth of his home. The man had compassion on the bird, and he went outside, hoping to bring it in. As he approached the bird, the bird just flew against the window even harder. Pretty soon, the bird flew into the bushes below the window, half frozen, yet too afraid to be caught by this huge man. The more the man tried to reach for the bird, the more the bird flew frantically into the snow and thorns of the bushes. After a few minutes in the cold and seeing the bird continue to injure itself, the man yelled out in frustration, "Stupid bird, can’t you understand that I’m trying to help?" The man paused and thought, "If only you understood you wouldn’t fly away ... if only ... if only I could become a bird, and get you to understand.” And then off in the distance the man heard the church bells ringing, just as they had done at this time every year, announcing the beginning of Christmas, the day that we celebrate Jesus taking on frail human flesh and living as one of us.

Jesus comes to us in human form to show us a different kind of peace. It isn’t the greeting card or nativity set kind of peace – he’s offering something deeper, something transcendent. He doesn’t offer peace through the use of military might. He isn’t offering peace from coasting over the trials and tribulations of this life. What Jesus offers instead is the peace that comes from walking this road together. In times of hardship and times of abundance, when the rule of the land is an eye for an eye – God is with us. In times of violence or oppression, when people seek the third way – God is with us. As we reach out to heal the sick and the suffering and be a visible presence in our communities – God is with us. That is the peace that we celebrate. That is the peace that we announce. Jesus brings peace as he comforts the grieving widow. He brings peace when he waits with the children who are waiting for a parent to return from war. He brings peace when family factions sit down around the Christmas dinner table and share a meal together. The Emmanuel, the God with us – this is the Prince of Peace. The one who came to live among us, and now promises to be with us always.

A new look at an old scene

I stumbled across this tonight. It really hit home because I will be preaching this weekend with the aid of a nativity set.

Why we still tell the story

Pop Quiz:

1. Where was Jesus born?
2. Who is Gabriel and what does he have to do with the Christmas story?
3. What is the relationship between Jesus and John the Baptist?
4. Where did Mary, Joseph, and Jesus go to escape Herod?

If you know the answer to all four of these questions, you are in the 12% of adults in terms of knowledge of the Christmas story according to this article.

Sometimes I wonder why it is that we tell the same story at this time every year. But this reminds me that there is still a world in screaming need to hear about the life giving birth of the Messiah.

Doubt, Limping Away

Doubt, Limping Away
Nov 17 & 18, 2007
David Hively
Peace Lutheran Church

Scripture:
Genesis 32:22-31
2 Corinthians 12:6-10
Mark 9:14-29

Manuscript:
We have spent the last few weeks talking about faith and doubt, looking at doubt in the lives of Luther and the Saints, and talking about the impact that doubt can have in our own lives. Last week we talked about fear, and the hold that it can take over our lives and how it can keep us from stepping out into the kind of life that God is calling us to. We talked about stepping out in spite of fear, and trusting in God to bring us through. In today’s text we meet someone who is doing just that. He’s telling God about his fears and his doubts.
Jacob is at the bank of the Jabbok river. The sun has long since gone and the only light around comes from the moon which occasionally peeks out from behind the clouds. Beads of sweat are rolling down his face, not because he is hot, but because he is nervous. His brother Esau is on the way, and things are not looking good.
He thinks back to that time, many years ago when Esau came home from working in the field and he found Jacob cooking a pot of lentil stew. Esau has been in the field all day and hunger has gotten the better of him. The rumbling in his stomach has become a full fledged thunderstorm. He’s so hungry, that he believes that he will die without something to eat. Jacob seizes this opportunity. His older brother is the father’s favorite and stands to collect the inheritance when his father dies. With Esau’s life on the line, Jacob sets the price of a bowl of soup at one birthright. Left with no choice Esau hands over his birthright to Jacob for a simple bowl of soup.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, Jacob thinks back to the time just before his father died. The father knew that Jacob had duped Esau out of his birthright, so he prepares to give a final blessing to Esau as a way to try to make up for what he has lost. He sends Esau out to make all of the necessary preparations and while he is away Jacob and his mother hatch the first ever identity theft scheme. They put hair on Jacob’s arms so that the blind father will not be able to tell who it is - Jacob slides in, pretending to be Esau, and takes the blessing for himself. As you might imagine, having been cheated a second time, Esau is furious and hatches a plan to kill Jacob. With his mother’s help, Jacob escapes to a distant land, hoping to lay low until Esau’s anger cools.
Even though it all happened 20 years ago, it all seems like it happened yesterday. Things haven’t been easy for Jacob since he left. The calluses on his hands bear witness to the hard work that he had done. Jacob has changed and he wanted to make amends. He is on his way back home but he fears that Esau may still hold a grudge against him. So he sent some messengers to Esau, but when those messengers return, they had bad news. Esau is on his way, and he’s coming with 400 of his closest friends. It looks like Esau is planning a bloodbath, not a family reunion. Jacob starts to make contingency plans. He’s divided everything he has into two camps, hoping that if Esau comes upon one and destroys it, the other will remain safe. The only thing left to do now is to wait for Esau’s arrival at the break of day.
How could it be that things would end up like this? He is supposed to be the inheritor of the Abrahamic covenant. He is supposed to get land, and offspring. His name is supposed to live on for generations. But what is all of that now? Esau and his army are closing in, and here he sits – alone – waiting, and doubting God’s promises.
In the Christian faith we sometimes talk about wrestling with God. About how we look at the life around us and compare the life that we experience, with the life that God promises and we see that something is wrong. The two visions don’t line up. How can it be that Mother Theresa could dedicate her life to serving the poorest of the poor and yet feel abandoned by God? How can it be that marriage vows of lifelong faithfulness made before God and a community of faith end up shattered? How can it be that nearly every week we hear another account of an innocent child kidnapped and exploited? How can it be that a land that we call “Holy” can be a place of systematic violence and ethnic cleansing? Back and forth we go, trying to reconcile God’s promises and our experiences and we are left with no choice but to sit down next to Jacob at the bank of the Jabbok and wait.
It is here, on the bank of the Jabbok, that the wrestling can really begin. Jacob looks up, and discovers that he is no longer alone. All of his inner turmoil, all of his frustration, all of that energy take a physical form and Jacob begins to wrestle with God. He battles all night long; grappling, wrangling, hanging on for dear life. Until finally, dawn is beginning to break. A new day is beginning, and the man wants to leave, but Jacob will not let go – not until he receives a blessing.
For several weeks now Pastor John and I have stood up here and stressed the importance of being honest with God about your doubts. I hope that some of you have taken us up on that challenge. If you have, you might find that you can empathize with Jacob. You have been to the bank of the Jabbok, you have told God about your doubts and now you are in that wrestling match. As part of worship today, you will be given an opportunity to give your wrestling a concrete, tangible expression. Off to my left, your right there is a cross, waiting to hear from you. There is paper available in the pews on which you can write your doubts, fears, or struggles in your walk with Christ. During Communion you are invited to come and place that paper on the cross.
What kinds of things take you to the bank of the Jabbok river? Is there some relationship in your past that needs to be healed? Maybe there is that part of your life that you just cannot seem to get right. You wrestle with it day after day after day. Some days it feels like you might be getting the upper hand. But other days it seems that all hope is lost. And so you wrestle, long into the night.
Jacob doesn’t walk away from that night unchanged. The scriptures tell us that Jacob was struck on the hip and from that day forward he walked with a limp. But I don’t think that his limp was an impediment so much as it was a testament to the encounter that he had with God. When we ultimately emerge from “the dark night of the soul” we too will be changed. Like Jacob we will have a limp. But this limp is not a disability. It is an opportunity for testimony – a chance to tell others about thee time that you spent wrestling with God.
One of my classmates at the seminary has a son who is in elementary school. He was born with some genetic characteristics which mean that his mind will never develop past roughly the level of a five year old. As you can imagine, this was a bank of the Jabbok moment for my classmate. She spent many nights lying awake staring at the ceiling, wrestling with God. She spent many Sunday mornings unable to worship, only able to ask “Why?” If you fast-forward her story a few years, she is now an advocate for people with developmental disabilities, she works as a consultant to churches who feel a calling to ministry with the developmentally disabled and she has one of the most moving testimonies that you will ever hear. Through her time of wrestling with God, she was left with a limp like Jacob’s. But that limp is now a testimony to God’s power made visible through the many ministries that she has enabled, and all the people who have come to know Jesus because of them.
A few weeks ago we talked about three things that you can do when you are faced with doubts. 1. Acknowledge the doubt; 2. Tell the doubt to God; 3. Tell the doubt to a trusted other. I want to add one more to that list. 4. Testify to what God has brought you through. It can seem paradoxical to tell people about those dark times in our lives. But this is where we can learn a little something from Paul. In 2nd Corinthians he writes that he was given a thorn in the flesh. And that even though he appealed to God three times that it would be taken away – it remained. Then Jesus said, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness." Paul finally declares, “I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.”
On the bank of the Jabbok dawn has broken and Jacob looks up and sees Esau coming with his 400 men. He ran out to meet Esau and bowed before him seven times as a way to honor him. But Esau began running towards Jacob and he reached out and gave him a great big hug, held him close, and gave him a kiss. There was no anger there – just a joyful reunion. Though Jacob had feared the worst, he received a great blessing that day.
God is at work in our lives more powerfully than we could ever know. And it is in those darkest of places, where we cannot rely on our own strength – that God’s grace and power are most evident. As disciples of Jesus it is our mission to limp away from our encounters with God – and testify to the power of God who brought us through even the most difficult of circumstances.
Let us pray: Loving God, You know the times that we have stayed up all night wrestling with you. You know the ways in which we have been wounded. May our times of weakness be opportunities for testimony to the wonders that you have done. In Jesus name, Amen

Doubt and Fear

Doubt, Doubt in the Dark
David Hively
Nov 10, 11
Peace Lutheran Church
We have been talking the last few weeks about doubts and how some of our ancestors in the faith have lived with, and actually had their faith strengthened by times of doubt. We talked about Luther came through his times of doubt having learned to trust in God alone, and not in the church or its rituals. We also talked about Mother Theresa and Henri Nouwen and how even though they were respected as very spiritual people, they still felt far from God and ultimately learned that their feelings were not a good measure of the closeness of God. That is, despite their feelings to the contrary, God was with them all the while. Today I want to take us back into the scriptures to look at another topic that is closely related to doubt, fear. Doubt and fear have a reciprocal sort of relationship where they feed on one another, each getting stronger when the other is present. So let’s start out with a bit of trivia. I’ll give you the name of a phobia and you tell me what the fear is:
1. Arachnophobia- Fear of spiders
2. Agoraphobia- Fear of open spaces
3. Hydrophobia- Fear of water
4. Xenophobia- Fear of strangers or foreigners.
5. Homilophobia- Fear of sermons.
Fear has a very natural and important place in our lives. It is that biological/psychological warning system that gets us ready for fight or flight. It is that part of us that keeps us from the things that would do us harm. It is fear that makes us apply the brakes, or step back from the edge, or put some distance between ourselves and danger. The problem is that fear doesn’t always work for our best interest. It can get mixed up with things that pose no danger to us, and actually keep up from living the kind of life to which God has called us.
I’m reminded of the Avalon community swimming pool. One of the greatest attractions there was the high dive. From the perspective of the four foot tall blond kid on the side of the pool, the 12 foot high diving board looked as though it was scraping the
clouds. One day my friend Sean got it in his head that HE was going to dive off of that board. I don’t know what possessed him. In my elementary school mind, this was about the dumbest thing that he could do. But up he climbed. He was bold at first, moving quickly. But as he went it took longer and longer to climb each rung of the ladder. The further he got from the ground the less sure he was that he wanted to go through with this. Finally, he reached the top. He started shuffling out to the end of the board. With each tiny step the board got more and more spring and felt less and less certain beneath his feet. After what seemed like an eternity, he reached the end of the board. Only his big toes hung off the edge of the board – which by now was bobbing up and down -- even as Sean stood cemented in place, not daring to move a muscle, lest the board begin to bounce even more. So there he stood, dripping wet, the wind rushing past him, afraid of what is to come. Even from the ground you could see him quivering. There he stood, frozen in fear.
“Do not be afraid” That is what the scriptures say over and over again. “Do not be afraid.” All through the scriptures people are told not to be afraid. It is often the first thing that an angel says when it appears. These words were spoken to Abraham, Moses, Mary, Joseph, the shepherds tending their flock on that first Christmas night, Paul sitting in jail, the women searching for the body of Jesus on Easter morning, and in today’s reading – the disciples.
There is little in this world that can be quite so paralyzing as fear. Sometimes it comes on suddenly and freezes you in place, and you are left, caught like a deer in the headlights. The panic washes over you so quickly that there isn’t time to think, much less act. You will hear survivors talk about their experiences and say, “I just froze, I couldn’t do anything. This is immobilizing fear.
But there is another kind of fear, the fear of failure. The slower moving, more sinister variety. This is the kind of fear that is seeded by our doubts. It is the kind of fear that keeps a middle aged person in a job that sucks all the joy out of his life – because they are afraid of the insecurity that comes from a career change. It is this kind of fear that keeps a person locked in an abusive relationship – afraid to reach out to the very people most able to help. It is this kind of fear that keeps a teenager from ever being open enough to allow someone else to see what they are truly like, because they fear
being rejected. And this is the kind of fear that builds on itself. Each job opportunity turned down, each phone number not dialed, each social gathering skipped only further cements the fear’s hold on your life.
In the scripture text for today we find examples of both manifestations of fear. It is night time on the lake. This is well before streetlights and kerosene lanterns so the only light at night was from the moon and stars, which were covered up by storm clouds. The wind and waves danced about the boat, tossing them to and fro. It has been a long night, in fact, it is nearly morning. On the horizon, the disciples see a figure walking across the waves. Vision blurred by heavy eyelids, stung by raindrops, whipped by the wind, caught in immobilizing fear, the disciples cry out, “It’s a ghost!”
It is then that Jesus speaks, “take heart, it is I, do not be afraid.” The same voice that a few chapters earlier called out, quieting the wind and waves, repeats that biblical mantra – do not be afraid. The scriptures do not go into much detail about the effect that Jesus words had on the disciples. We do not know if they were calmed in the same way that the wind and the waves were calmed a few chapters earlier. But we do know that Peter wants to literally take things one step further.
He wants to get out onto the water with Jesus. Sure enough he steps out of the boat and is able to stand there with Jesus, on top of the waves. But this is where that second type of fear, the fear of failure, takes hold. Maybe he has gone too far. This isn’t natural, something is wrong here! The fear of failure takes over and Peter begins to sink, not just into the water, but into his anxieties and fears. But Jesus does not let him fall. He doesn’t allow Peter to be overcome by the waves. Instead he takes Peter by the hand and lifts him up.
It is easier to be courageous in the calm. It is easier to trust God when things are going well. The test of faith comes just before dawn, when the waves are crashing, the wind is howling, and fear has taken hold. It is when our faith is stretched, it is when our trust in God is tried, that we stop clinging to those temporary things that let us down and dissapoint, and learn to focus on Jesus and his promises. Because it is in those moments when we face our deepest fears that we discover just how faithful our God is. That is when the truth of God’s promises is driven home. That is when we come to see our God, and our fears, more clearly.
Eventually, Sean jumped off that diving board. I’m not sure what finally made him do it, but he jumped. And once he caught his breath, he swam over to the side of the pool, climbed up the ladder, and went over to do it again. In overcoming his fear, Sean had happened across something that he really enjoyed. It can sound somewhat trivial so many years later, the fear of jumping off a high diving board. But so often in this life we look back over events in our lives and find that the very thing that we were afraid of came to pass, and yet, we were able to come through it. Yes, you were put out of a job, and it was a tough place to be in, but God delivered and has sustained you with something else in its place. Yes that relationship did not work out, and things were rough for a while, but God is blessing you with new people in your life.
When a fear of failure causes us to sink, or that immobilizing fear keeps us from even stepping out in the first place – Jesus is there. He is there with a reassuring, “I am.” Who is going to take care of me as I look for a new job? Jesus says, “I am.” Where will I find the strength to walk away from this destructive relationship? Jesus says, “Take my hand.” Will anyone still like me if I show who I truly am? Jesus says, “Do not be afraid, it is me.”
This life comes with fears. But in the midst of those fears – God reaches out to us with a supporting hand, and gives us the courage to step out into those dark, doubtful places. And says – take courage, it is I, do not be afraid.
Let us pray – Dear God, there is so much in this life that frightens us and causes us to sink. Help us to trust in you, knowing that you will support and sustain us through even the most frightening times in our lives. Give us ears to hear your voice – Take courage, it is I, do not be afraid”