August 10, 2008

First Lesson
from Growing Strong at Broken Places by Paula Ripple

The woman potter summarized not only the making of a pot but her basic belief about life:

Both my hands shaped this pot. And, the place where it actually forms is a place of tension between the pressure applied from the outside and the pressure of the hand on the inside. That’s the way my life has been. Sadness and death and misfortune and the love of friends and all the things that happened to me that I didn’t even choose. All of that influenced my life. But, there are things I believe in about myself, my faith in God and the love of some friends that worked on the insides of me. My life, like this pot, is the result of what happened on the outside and what was going on inside of me. Life, like this pot, comes to be in places of tension. Life comes to be when we learn how to avoid looking for answers and finally learn how to ask the questions that will bring us to life.

There is a tendency in us to want to live tension-free. But, like the woman potter, I believe that this tension is God’s gift to us, a gift that sometimes will not permit us to escape its presence. I believe that our creative energies are activated by just that kind of upsetting tension. It is in responding to this gnawing discomfort that we have the possibility of giving shape to dreams that are at once faithful to who we are and who we can become.

Second Lesson
Matthew 14:22-33

Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. And early in the morning he came walking towards them on the lake. But when the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”

Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” Jesus said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came towards Jesus. But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. And those in the boat worshipped him, saying, “Truly you are the Child of God.”

Sermon
Rescue Me!

During heavy flooding caused by an El Nino year, a faithful minister refused to obey evacuation orders and decided to stay with his church in the center of town. His thinking was that many of his congregants, who were poor and had no transportation or other means of leaving town, might also need his help, encouragement and prayers.

As the flood waters rose higher and higher, and reached the doors of the church, the minister began praying for the safety of his church. Several hours later, when the flood waters reached the choir loft, the minister prayed again – this time for the safety of his congregation in their homes.

And as the hours passed and the flood waters continued to rise, the minister had no choice but to climb to the roof of the church, and there, he started praying to God for his own deliverance.

He was a man of great faith, and as he prayed, he thought, “What a wonderful testimony this will make for my congregation! Imagine, here I am at death’s door – just inches away from drowning – but the God I have worshipped my whole life will not abandon me. The God that has loved me since I was a child will save me, because I believe! I believe!”

About an hour later, after intense devotional prayers, a huge log came floating right within reach of the minister. But he did not reach out to grab the log because he continued to believe that God would deliver him.

"God will come to my assistance," he said. And he remained on the roof of the church.

After another 30 minutes or so, as the minister kept praying, an empty canoe came floating by. Again, the canoe was within reach of where the minister was perched on the roof, but he did not reach out and grab it.

"No, it is God who will rescue me," he said. And he remained on the roof of the church, praying more fervently still.

About ten minutes later, a large boat with several people approached the roof where the minister was barely hanging on. But the minister waved them off, refusing their help, saying, “No, I don’t need you – for God will rescue me!”

Despite continuous praying, the flood waters rose and the minister, sadly, drowned in the raging water.

His spirit was filled with disappointment, for he was certain God would have come through. When he met God, he asked, “I was a person of tremendous faith; all my life I worshipped and praised you; I never thought you would abandon me. Yet in my hour of need, why didn't you help me? I called for help and you didn't answer my prayers!"

And God said, “I sent a log, a canoe, and boatload of people in the middle of the worst flood in 100 years – what more did you want?"

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Our gathering words were very provocative this morning, illustrating a link between two unlikely entities, one – a sensibility, the other – a deep-seeded belief: doubt and truth. Though the juxtaposition of the essence of doubt over against the scope of truth may seem a contradiction to a practical person, it should be a very enlightened analysis to a person of faith.

“Cherish your doubts, for doubt is the attendant of truth.”

“Doubt,” says Robert Weston, “is the key to the door of knowledge.”

In other words, those of us who never have doubts can be fairly certain we’ll never experience truth, because doubt is an inseparable element of truth.

Just as death is an essential element of what we believe life to be, so too, the experience of doubt is necessary to fully grasp our truth. For if we are always clear, always right, always assured that ours is the only truth, we never allow ourselves to experience the other side, for there are many truths, not just our own. To limit ourselves is to limit the possibilities that God created for us.

I preached once before about doubt, and used the example of Mother Teresa. Some of her writings, discovered posthumously, revealed that she, too, was a wise person of deep understanding who was filled with doubt – doubt about her own faith. Mother Theresa feared she was a hypocrite.

She wrote, shortly after her work in the Calcutta slums had begun, that she felt the Spirit leave her. Deep in despair, that low place many of us may also have experienced at one point or another in our lives, she wrote: "Where is my faith? Even deep down … there is nothing but emptiness and darkness. ... If there be a God — please forgive me."

And even many years later, she still searched for the faith she had lost: "Such deep longing for God," she wrote, "… repulsed, empty, no faith, no love, no zeal." As her fame increased, her faith refused to return. Her smile, she said, was a mask. "What do I labor for?" she asked. "If there be no God, there can be no soul. If there be no soul then, Jesus, You also are not true."

It is hard to imagine a saint from our times like Mother Theresa struggling in the face of doubt, but struggle she did. We can only hope that she eventually found peace, or at least that she has found it now, after her death.

In our scripture reading, in typical fashion, the disciples’ fear, once more, reigned over their sense of faith or hope. They’re expectation that something bad might happen greatly outweighed the possibility that they would be taken care of. It might have been different had Jesus been in the boat with them. But Jesus was on shore, until he walked upon the water toward them as reassurance that they were safe.

Though Jesus did not perceive a need for them to be rescued, he acquiesced to their sense of need. So what was clear to Jesus was murky, at best, for the disciples: they were not in danger, though they thought they were. And they didn’t need rescuing, though they thought they did.

It seems the disciples were very much like we are: we live in crisis mode so often, that as soon as something unexpected happens, we mobilize our senses, our reserves, our energies and move into action. But one can live in crisis mode only so long. Then, we become numb, frozen to whatever might be truth for us.

Peter, not sure if was Jesus, tested him, saying, “If it is you, then command me to walk on the water and come to you, and I will be able to do it.” And so it was. Jesus commanded him. And he got out of the boat and did not sink.

But it was Peter’s fear that undermined him. For so many years, I’ve read this scripture and believed that the only miracle of this story was Jesus’ ability to walk on water. But could it be that the greater miracle was that Peter could have walked on water if only he had believed that he could?

Jesus would not let Peter drown. Peter asked for help, and he received it.

Just so, God never lets us down. When we ask God for help, it is our spiritual nature and experience that comfort us in the belief that God will give it. God will not abandon us.

But as is our want as human beings, we recognize our imperfections and our flaws, we become frustrated with ourselves, and then with others. These are nothing more than our doubts surfacing– self-doubts that give us fear that make us uncertain.

But instead of embracing our doubts to see what lies on the other side of them, we panic and move into crisis mode, unable to think or act clearly, often causing more harm to an already tenuous situation. We want to live tension-free, as Paula Ripple observes.

But it is in the midst of this tension that transformation happens.

Ripple says: “Tension is God’s gift to us, a gift that sometimes will not permit us to escape its presence.” She says “our creative energies are activated by the tension” and our response to it brings us into the possibility of “giving shape to dreams that are at once faithful to who we are and who we can become.”

And because we cannot think beyond our doubts and fears, we resist the impulse to turn to others – or to God – for help.

I know I’ve spoken at various times about individuals who come into community to get something – anything – rather than to give something. But we know the truth: that a healthy mix of give and take is what feeds a community and keeps it relevant and active, and helps it maintain a state of forward movement and necessary change, establishing itself as both a community that serves and a community that seeks. That’s what a community should be.

Too often we think we must be above asking for help

This community, Trinity Metropolitan Community Church, has had its challenges. And it will have challenges still to come.

But if you believe you can see yourselves through them, you will. If you trust that God will be present to help you to change and grow, you will. If you realize that when you can do things on your own, it’s a blessing, but that it’s also no shame to ask for help, you will have learned an invaluable lesson about your ability as a community to thrive and survive no matter what challenge faces you.

May God bless you and keep you, Trinity MCC, on your quest, as you discover your true identity, determine how you want your future to unfold, and discern your personal desires from what you believe God is calling you to do.

I’d like to close with these words from a poem by Macrina Wiedekehr:

“If you want to walk on water, you have to get out of the boat!
Come, walk on the water with me!
I'm in the mood for impossible things!
Take out your heart of courage, a lamp amid your fears,
And walk on the water with me.

Let's touch everything we see, and change it to hope.
Our hearts, lets change to flesh.
No more stones of apathy for us!

Lets look at everything that could be,
Believing it will be, if we dare to walk on water,
Scared and hopeful.

Come, walk on the water with me!
Lets wrap our fears in hope.
Across these waters we must go,
Our lamps of courage held high,
Scared and hopeful we will go.

Come, walk on the water with me!”

Always remember: you can walk on water if you believe in God, believe in yourselves, and know and understand that God believes in you.

May it be so. Amen.