Row Row Row Your Boat

Nobody preaches about how hard it is to stay in the boat. There is a raging storm, the boat's probably about to capsize, there are no lights, and yet attention is always focused on the guy who abandoned ship. Why is that? Why does no one preach about how hard it is to try and stay afloat?

Yesterday, we heard a(nother) sermon based on the passage in Matthew 14 (vv.22-36) about Peter walking on water. We've all heard these sermons. Regardless of how well the homilist preaches, the majority of the sermons that I've heard focus on one of several things: Peter's great big faith that allowed him to leap out of the boat; Peter's tragic weakness and lack of faith in the face of a surging storm; Peter's ardent desire to be like Jesus; Peter's vanity in wanting to be like Jesus; Peter's faith restored; Peter willing to take risks; etc, etc etc. Whatever the homily, whatever the occasion, whatever the context, sermons that I've heard about this passage often focus on the narrative, the dramatic, the suspense. Even Children's Time talks often focus on the magical image of Peter walking on the surface (not even ankle deep, mind you!)...

So given that we're talking about the Sea of Galilee, the scale is like 100:1, but I want to imagine a bit here...

What happens when we are trapped in the middle of a large body of water, tossed about by raging winds, the boat flooded with salt water, boat-mates frozen in fear (or scared out of their wits with frenzy, fear), and the guy who always wanted to be in charge has suddenly abandoned ship by jumping overboard? Might we paddle a bit harder? Might we lunge after sails and ropes, try and secure our safety, strap ourselves to some planks, some barrels, maybe some railing? And if it be a little baby of a boat, wouldn't we be even more scared at the prospect of capsizing? Would the seemingly imminent death by drowning force us to cast about for some sort of rescuing device? If that little boat is about to overturn, would we be frantic about staying firmly planted, using those wooden buckets to prevent the boat from taking on water? Do we sit still and pray?

The more I hear this more, the less impressed I become with Peter's great faith. I don't doubt the strength or degree of faith that is necessary for him to lunge into the waters. I want to shift the camera just slight and pan the lens toward the people back in the little boat. Imagine the camera zooming in to see their faces, their concentrated eyes and scared faces. Sometimes, it is much harder to stay on board that it is to simply jump overboard. Sometimes, the people trying to keep the boat afloat often end up workig the hardest.

In my opinion, a lot of courage is needed to continue working and treading water when you feel abandoned, confused, lost, as if God was not present at all. It's one thing for Peter to head toward Jesus, to turn his faith toward God, but he did so at great risk -- one could even imagine at the cost of abandoning his friends and companions. How much harder it must be to row an entire group toward Christ, to steer the boat in the direction of hope, faith, and security!

At our church in Chinatown, how many of us feel like we want to jump overboard to head to some safer place, some better shelter away from the winds? How many of us want to find a church that is not decaying or retrogressing? How many of us want to flock to some megachurch with preplanned services, ready-made spiritual formation programs, or 95% full church pews that don't require us to do any work other than to show up on Sunday mornings or during Lent and Christmas? Wouldn't that make things easier? Why work so hard to waste our energy by staying behind to build up a faith community? Why save a dying church? Why not join another?

In our workplaces -- at CDSP even -- how many of us want to find alternate employment to help us out of our terrible economic rut? How many want to find some other organization with a different mission statement and differing views to work with and work for? How many of us want to jump ship to another office in another city in another state? How many other workplaces can we find, how many other institutions can we buy into without having to work overtime to help an academic institution with a rapidly decreasing donor base and a slowly growing (if not static) enrollment count? Why not jump overboard and join another institution?

And, how many of us want to escape to another country? I'll be honest and admit that during the presidential election, I spoke candidly to a friend about the possibility of moving out of the country, perhaps to travel or to work or study abroad, to escape at all cost if my candidate of choice did not win the presidential election. I considered becoming an expat; the prospect of abandoning ship was not so terrible but grew even more enticing when a certain candidate decided to name a female running mate whose politics and demeanor I disagreed with. The situation seemed bleak, and I was ready to jump in with any other country if any would have this American. I practically climbed over the side of the "American ship" to make my plunge b/c surely trying to walk on water was better than staying onboard.

Finally, how many of us want to escape off this planet? Clean, renewable energy seems so fantastical; the water's polluted and clean water is being depleted per every shower I take in the mornings; the trees are being cleared faster than I can count the number of pages I print from my personal printer; the climate is warming up at alarming rates, the ice is melting, the animals are dying. Poverty, hunger, sickness, death... all that should make us want to jump ship twice over.

Truth is, we can talk about moon colonies and Mars colonies, but there is only one planet Earth. At least in my lifetime and probably that of my children, I won't be able to abandon this planetary ship. We are stuck here and we are stuck good. We'll need to paddle harder, faster, smarter, and more creatively. We'll need to stick together, with no one going rogue. It's not easy to turn things around, not easy to overturn a boat that's 2/3 capsized, but it's not impossible if we do it together.

Consider the efforts of the United Nations and the Millennium Development Goals, consider the Heifer project, and consider the ONE Campaign. These are strong examples of people huddling together in that figurative boat trying to stay alive. If we imagine the earth as a massive ark in which we all have to contribute to keep afloat, we'll see the connectness of Creation. Sometimes a body (or nation) needs to be pushed just a bit harder (ahem, the U.S. only contributes 0.16% when every other nation promised to contribute 0.7% of the GDP to developing nations).

We need to make the (sometimes) harder choice of staying in the boat, of being chastised as being weak and poor in faith. And perhaps that's what we need to wake us up to the fact that we
all carry the responsibility to live well because we are a part of Creation -- to be good and faithful albeit scared stewards, we each need to stay firmly grounded.

One thing I forgot to mention? While Peter's jumped overboard and these guys were struggling in/with the boat, Jesus is headed in their direction. They were never far from the grace, peace, love, and calmness that they needed. We, too, are never far from the Peace and Love that we need in order to live through something so terrifyingly uncertain. We need to make a commitment now. Abandon ship, or stay onboard and row row row your boat.