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Are You Up To The Task?


Genesis 37:1-4;12-28             Matthew 14:22-33

I know that there are those of you that will be disappointed in me today if I speak about current events. I know there are those of you that will be equally disappointed with me if I do not. What I need all of you to know is that my intention was never to please any of you, but only to be faithful to God. So, the first question I ask myself in times like these is, “Am I up to the task?”

If I am to be honest with myself the answer is, “No.” The answer is no, because while I want to follow the advice of Karl Barth who said to preach with the “Bible in one hand and the newspaper in the other,” I no longer trust the news for anything but entertainment. Not only that, but every source seems to have a bias. I find it increasingly difficult to stay informed of issues that impact our ability to view one another with compassion, because compassion just doesn’t sell ad space. More and more I find that conversation with individuals yields more fruit, yet that also requires vulnerability and time and effort. And even in our compassionate conversations we can still end up putting our brother in a well and selling him off like Ruben did to Joseph. Am I up to the task? I’m just not sure anymore.

I want to follow the example of Rienhold Niebuhr, who appropriated a phrase about the purpose of journalism for the purpose of preaching, saying that we must “afflict the comfortable and comfort the afflicted.” Yet I know that with all my student loans, medical bills and other debts and incidental issues, I live a life of relative comfort as a white male Presbyterian Pastor.

All that said, there is no denying that this week has ended in a way that is very uncomfortable. The protests in Charlottesville, VA and the ensuing violence have become the storm that is rocking our boat. While some would say that it will just blow over if we hunker down in the boat, I say that I believe that God is calling us to do and to be more than that. Some may answer that by claiming that the problem of racism will never go away, but I say that is even greater reason to stand against it.

Some may then say that it’s hypocritical to stand against white supremacists but not against those who simply need the world to know that their lives have value and meaning that are no less valuable because of color or race or gender or creed or sexual orientation or whether or not they carry a badge. To that charge of hypocrisy, I humbly disagree.

Yes, there are movements and protests in this country that have made trouble. Yes, there was trouble already that those of us who are comfortable will never see. Yes, we can look at white supremacists and say that they can have their beliefs, but they don’t have the right to cause harm. Yes, we can say to our legislators and leaders – who will spin and politicize everything they touch – that this is not who we are!

Yet, the sad and uncomfortable truth is that this is who we are. The story of Joseph being shoved in a well and sold to a caravan is our story. It is a recognition that we are predisposed to put our interests first and to look at the one who seems like she or he gets special treatment as the source of our suffering.

Wouldn’t it be easier to just get rid of the dreamer, the idealist, the one who just ruins everything by breathing our air? Wouldn’t it be easier to de-humanize those that seem to threaten us, so that we can talk about them in terms of numbers rather than lives?

Into this storm walks Jesus. In Matthew’s gospel, he’s already calmed one storm. He was inside the boat on that one, and the disciples wondered openly what sort of man he was. This time they see him on the water. They’ve already had a long day. The crowd had followed them into a desolate place. Jesus pushed them to look beyond their scarcity and helped them feed over 5,000 people. The cleanup was intense. Then he went off to pray as was his custom. They were told to get in the boat and assured that he would catch up.

Given the time and age, it’s not unreasonable for them to think that a figure walking on water is a spirit. Jesus sees their fear and anxiety and tells them not to fear. Peter realizes that you have to test spirits, or you can end up in trouble. He tells Jesus to prove it by commanding him to come out. We have no idea why, but that seemed like a good idea to Peter. Maybe he needed to prove it to himself that this was Jesus, but he needed Jesus to tell him to do what he knew he needed to do. So, Jesus just says, “Come.”

You know how the story goes from there. Peter gets out, takes a few steps, gets distracted, and falls in. But just in the nick of time Jesus saves him and pulls him into the boat. And while it’s easy to stick with the condemnation of Peter, I can’t help but think of those that stayed in the boat. Were they more faithful, because they didn’t need to get out? Were they less, because they were unwilling? It’s tough to say.

All we know is that this time they praised him as the Son of God. It was as if they said, “Oh. We get it now. You are the active presence of God. The storm isn’t gone forever, but right now in this place we have been given grace and mercy and salvation.”

And so, it is with you and me in this place. The storm has settled for the moment. We may be wet, tired, and hungry, but in this place, we recognize that God is God and we are not. In this place, we recognize that dreamers may be struck down, but the source of the dream will never end. At least that’s what I have to hold on to.

I grew up with the words of Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have A Dream” speech echoing in my conscience. Yet I grew up in a segregated world that paraded itself as integrated. As hospitable and friendly as this town is, I can’t deny that my children are growing up in a town that seems increasingly divided by income levels that appear to fall too often along a color line of black and white. 

In this town, in this place, in this time, am I up to the task of glorifying God, of stepping out of the boat in faith? Earlier I said no, because I know that I cannot do it alone. I know that over time  I try and end up like Peter, crying out, “Save me Lord, for I am drowning!”

But I know this. I know that we are up to the task. We are up to the task of talking and listening and seeking God’s presence together. I know that we are able to separate the dream from the dreamer without fear. I know that we are able to hold on to the dream – the dream that does not wait for a movement to tell us that people are being dismissed and mistreated categorically.

I know that we are able to glorify God in a way that will answer the suffering of this present age if only we recognize that God is active and present and in our midst. That may mean getting out of our boats from time to time. It may mean having uncomfortable conversations with strangers (or even worse, with loved ones). It may mean listening simply for the sake of understanding what someone else thinks.

It may mean getting together with some other members to go work on a flood recovery house while we wait for our next PDA group to come through. It might mean going over to C.U.P.S. to say hello, make a gift basket, or drop off something that will help someone in need. It might mean thinking of a person in need, buying some food for them for FoodNet, and realizing that you were the one in need of the opportunity to be compassionate.

Ultimately it all comes back to recognizing that God is active and present – especially in the midst of a storm. In those times when we feel like the waters are overtaking us, we can call out and God will be there. Sometimes the hand that reaches out may even be mine. Sometimes it will be yours reaching out to me. And when we stand together we will realize that our faith in God is so small compared to the love God has for us, and for them, and for all of creation – which is moving inch by inch and little by little toward redemption.


So, yeah. This is a good day to call out, “Lord, save us!” That is a task we are all pretty capable of. The hard part is to hear it from someone else and realize that we are the ones that have been called to respond. Are we up to that task? I believe we are, as long as we give glory and honor to God in all that we do, and as long as we are willing to accept the dreamers that move us toward reconciliation – even if we feel threatened by their dreams. Amen.

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