Chaos

Matthew 14:22-33

Would you like to walk on water?

Seriously – does it sound fun, exciting, and adventurous? or is it really not for you?

Personally, I’d love to walk on water.  I like water – to swim, float, wade – and it’s fun to imagine myself splashing across the top of Lake Michigan or the sunny Pacific Ocean, able to ride up and down waves like escalators. So I get all kinds of positive energy from today’s gospel story, and a happy charge out of Peter walking on the water.

But when I do that, I’m wrong. Pretty thoroughly wrong about this story. Because it’s not really about walking on water. It’s mostly about water, period. Dangerous, chaotic, water. Water worth being scared of.

Is anyone here afraid in the water, or on the water? or gets seasick?

I’ve loved water since childhood, but to my great disgust, I’ve discovered that I myself do get seasick, and sometimes scared, in big seas. 

That’s appropriate today, though, because if we were the first disciples – or any other first-century Christians hearing this gospel story, we’d know very well that we’re supposed to be afraid of water.

At least, of open water.  Oceans, seas, lakes, and certain rivers – any water subject to storms: waves, wind, and floods.

If you remember the very beginning of the Bible, you remember that as soon as there was light, God’s first task in creation was to tame the waters – the chaotic water that came before creation –penning them up to make space for land and safety. 

In the Bible, water represents chaos, an unholy mess of unpredictable forces, battering this way and that, with no refuge or safety to be had.

It’s chaos that you and I can’t conquer. Chaos we can’t rescue ourselves from; can’t tame; can’t control. It’s chaos only God can tame.

But many of us try, anyway.

How many of you would say you’ve experienced chaos in your life? Where do you experience chaos?   At home; at work; email inbox and electronics, traffic, illness, kids…

Who is expected to control that chaos?

We’ve gotten used to trying to control chaos – overcome it, tame it, or just push through – in the world we live in. We even wonder and complain when everything’s not better immediately after a hurricane or tsunami.

But those hurricanes are genuinely frightening.

Or if hurricanes aren’t terrifying to you, maybe for you that fear belongs to war. Or family matters. Or illness. For me it’s fire. Whatever chaos brings you real terror, I want you to get in touch with your own chaotic fear, just for a moment, because that is actually what today’s gospel story is about.

It’s about Jesus’ disciples, sent away from him into a chaotic environment. They’re alone on the water - atop the official incarnation of unholy chaos, and it gets worse and worse around them. The wind builds up.  Waves start battering their boat (literally translated, in fact, the boat is being tortured).

Night falls – the darkness is almost impenetrable.

They’re scared.

And they are supposed to be.  We are supposed to be.

No wonder that when Jesus comes striding across the water at a dark and miserable and exhausted four-ish in the morning, all they can see is the terror of a ghost.

Have you ever felt so exhausted and vulnerable and battered you can’t even recognize your friends? Or ever found yourself plunging even further into chaos because you were trying to grasp for some control, or simply manage your fear?

That’s what gets Peter out of the boat. 

He’s not exercising faith.   He’s trying to control his experience of the chaos – when he’s too stressed and battered to realize he’s plunging overboard.

“Oh, Jesus!! Finally! If that’s you, you’ll help me get on top of this mess, right?” 

(Ever prayed like that? I’m pretty sure I have!)

Jesus agrees to let him try.

And so Peter hops out of the boat, and he actually gets on top of the mess, to start with.  He does, in fact, walk on the water.  But he’s not actually God, even with Jesus’ help.  He’s overwhelmed by the wind, and can’t truly conquer the chaos.

And he starts to sink.

Ever felt that happening?

What do you do then?

Peter yells for help.
And at that point, he’s finally back on track.

“Lord, save me!!!!” is both a desperate plea for help and a confession of faith.  As he starts to go under, Peter falls back into the deep, illogical, powerful trust that life and death, chaos and order are totally up to God – and that God is right there, ready to save.

Sometimes, that’s what it takes to remember that we’re not God: Exhausted desperation, and the gut-wrenching realization that in fact, I can’t do it myself, and you are not supposed to.

That’s why we sometimes need to face into our fears.

Stop trying to get on top of the inbox, the family complications, the needs of the world; stop believing we can protect ourselves from war and loss and grief and pain,

and sink,

just enough to cry out to God from our most honest hearts that we can’t do it ourselves, and need God to save us.

Now, not everybody needs to jump out of the boat.

The other disciples seem to have had quite enough chaos just from the storm, and weren’t even going to chance trying to get on top of it themselves.

And they get the help they need from God, too.

Jesus gets into the boat, and the chaos calms.  They recognize the power of God, and worship. Then the sun comes up over a gentle lake, and they move on to more teaching and healing and holy ministry.

But every now and then we start to think we’re supposed to walk on water, to conquer chaos and be like God.

It’s a failure of faith.

But we fail at faith all the time.

And when we do, God is still there, stretching out a hand to pull us back into the boat and calm the storm.

We’re not meant to walk on water. I’m disappointed, but it’s true.

And it’s actually right to be afraid, sometimes, of the chaos we’re plunged in to. Because that fear can help us recognize the really good news: that we’re not God. That some messes aren’t meant to be conquered, and that God’s always ready for us to yell for help, and all we have to do is really mean it.

So you may encounter chaos this week.  When you do, tread carefully on the water. Enjoy the messes that aren’t scary, but don’t be tempted to conquer the ones that really are terrifying.

Those are God’s.

And that’s when you call on Jesus. 

Let him walk on the water, and pull you out, into grace, even if you don't get to dry land.