Sunday, June 28, 1998
Jim Todhunter
"Walking on Water"
Psalm 16; Matthew 14, 22
- 33
In order to fulfill its mission in the world, the Church of Jesus Christ must be able to walk on water. What does walking on water mean? It simply means accomplishing the seemingly impossible by means of faith. The Church must do what Peter did. Only when Peter's faith wavered did he start to sink, but even then the right hand of Jesus rescued him. (If Jesus was right handed. Equal rights for left handed people, I know!) Theologian Leonard Sweet tells us that the old way of looking at the world was to assume there is terra firma, that is, solid ground to build life and faith on. But to live in a "post modern world" (there's that pesky term again!), we must recognize that there is no terra firma any more. It used to be a terra firma belief that the sun revolved around the earth. Galileo ran afoul of the sixteenth century church asserting that. Was the Church of the day opposed to science and its discoveries? Not really. What the Church opposed was any idea it thought would pull the rug out from under the beliefs of simple folk. The Church said "This is terra firma for them. We must protect them and, incidentally, our institution."
Where is terra firma in a century that has given us Einstein's relativity theory and Heisenberg's uncertainty principle? For some Christians today terra firma is a Bible they interpret to say that women must graciously obey men because it was through Eve, not Adam, that sin entered the world. Some Christians believe that the New Testament is a fundamental that cannot be tampered with. But remember that Christianity existed for a hundred years without a New Testament at all. The experience of faith itself was enough.
Theologian Sweet and others tell us that today the only fundamental we can depend is change. Instead of the image of terra firma he suggests that the image for our age may be the ocean: an ever-changing medium upon which we seek to navigate in a never-ending odyssey. And maybe like Peter, without a boat even. Kids today get that. Old-timers like me have trouble figuring out the World Wide Web. They don't. Like the ocean isn't it? Dr. Sweet says that Christians can never plant themselves on the bedrock of unchanging principles, fundamentals, traditional habits, and reassuring customs. The "old time religion" will never be good enough for people of the 21st and 22nd century, because we live in a future-time world.
Christians entering the Third Millenium need to embrace the image of faith as a sea voyage in which the only thing in this world you can depend on is things are changing before our eyes, more rapidly then ever, and that God is God. The sea, in all its mutability. And that God is God. Look at the story from Matthew. The disciples in a boat tossing around on a sea whipped by the wind. Here comes Jesus walking on the water to join them. Peter is willing to attempt the impossible. And for those brief amazing moments - through faith, the impossible happens. Just Peter and Jesus and the sea. With terra firma no where in sight. No fundamentals. No life preservers. No boat. Just faith.
Let's play with the water metaphor: not sea water now, but pure fresh water. Jesus frequently uses the image of God as living water. God is that never-failing living water that quenches our thirst, cleanses our wounds, heals our spirits. How do we receive this living water? The living water of God comes to us in vessels. Water can come in an old oaken bucket, or a silver pitcher. The vessels that carry the living water to us may be people, communities, customs, songs, books, beliefs, or buildings. The shape of the container that holds the water may be appealing or unappealing, familiar or unfamiliar. But it is the contents that count. Getting the water to the people is most important. And that is what the Church is called to do: to provide the earthly vessels to get the water of God to a thirsty world.
But the problem that the Church runs into over the ages, is confusing the container with the contents. The Church tends to worship the menu, not serve the meal. Thirsty folks are expected to approve our container in order to get the contents. Let's say our container is labeled "liberal Protestant." It is one thing to say that given who we are and where we have been, this container labeled "liberal Protestant" is how we bring the living waters to you. It is another to say you cannot be one of us unless you are a liberal Protestant.
What are other containers? For the sake of discussion, let's imagine that we at CCC say "Here is the container in which we offer you the living waters of God." This building is basically a container. What about the container we are sitting in now? This container is a long rectangular room with high ceilings. At one end is a chancel with choir, an organ, a pulpit and a lectern. Sometimes a communion table. Filling the rest of the space are row upon rows of fixed wooden seats called pews. In the winter this room is generally comfortable, sometimes a little chilly, and in the summer frequently quite hot and humid. For an hour or two each week something takes place called worship. Sometimes during the week we practice for worship or have occasional musical programs. A lecture once in a while. But this is the container. And we want you to come to taste the living waters here. Why you will so eager to do so that you will even walk five or six blocks through the road to get here."
Now what if a person says, "I love this container. It is filled with beauty. I like what happens in it. I associate many warm memories with this place. Here I find the living waters." How could one argue with that? After having been away for a number of years I returned, a while back, to the church I grew up in, First Community Church in Columbus, Ohio. I came to worship to find the sanctuary totally re-configured, walls removed, a social hall adjoining, and a sound booth designed to accommodate a new TV ministry. It was all different. I felt strange. I did not feel like I was at home. My terra firma was shaken. I realized that I knew hardly anyone anymore. I was a bit at sea. Then, of course, I realized that I was living totally in the past, not the present, certainly not the future. I had chatted with a minister there from my youth and learned that, in fact, the changes had all been for the better, the church was thriving and a whole new younger generation of families had joined. In fact the church had grown so much that they have started a whole new satellite parish ten miles away. I had I was worshipping the vessel, one that existed only in memory. But the contents of this new vessel were bringing life.
It is important for Christians to understand and appreciate what containers work for us to convey the living waters. The religious music of J. S. Bach may speak to you in a way that Paul McCartney, or John Coltrane, or Mariah Carey or Dr. Dre may not. The King James version of the Bible may speak to you in a way the newer versions don't. But the real issue is this. We are all called by God to see our church as not just for us or people just like us. The purpose of this container, this gathering, this building, this sanctuary, is to enable us to experience the living waters, to train us to bring the living waters to those who thirst, and to welcome them and train them, as well, in the task of bringing those waters to still more thirsty people. Isn't that our purpose? Building, program, organization: all flow from this. The Church is not just our spiritual home where we can dependably, or at least hopefully, be fed and nourished. We can never allow ourselves to be so complacent as to say in effect, "This is who we are and how we do it. We hope you find the water of life here. But if not, you can look elsewhere." No, not good enough. New styles of worship or church architecture, may make us uneasy, but why wouldn't we want to understand and utilize new ways to reach others? What is wrong with having a variety of vessels? A number of approaches? That was the genius of St. Paul.
What are some of those impossible things the Church of Jesus Christ is called to do? What amazing, yet tangible accomplishments need to flow from our noble aspiration statements? Let me just suggest one example. We have a priority for Children and Youth at CCC. What does it mean to reach youth today? Doesn't that seem like a daunting and impossible task? Last week we set up a meeting with Dave Cotton, Director of the Silver Spring YMCA and his youth staff, and Rev. Diana Ley, the new minister at Marvin Memorial Methodist, to explore how the local religious community can now connect with the needs of students at that formidable new structure at Four Corners called Montgomery Blair High School. It was very exciting. There are any number of things we could take on. For example, there are now model programs, and maybe county funding, for working with students who have been suspended. A suspended kid may simply wander around and end up in trouble. A local church can work with the school to provide support and tutoring until the student is permitted back. It's working elsewhere, why not here? What about an "in school" coffee house? Why not? Our local neighborhood has acquired the image of a community opposed to the new Blair. Why not work the miracle of transforming opposition into opportunity? Another example: what would this CCC building look like if we really took our Children and Youth Priority really seriously? What would it communicate to a young couple with small children if they were greeted here by a really outstanding, state of the art nursery, and reliable and regular professional child-care? At the very least, wouldn't that say to them "Come back"? I think CCC is on the verge of doing some impossible things. But with God, all things are indeed possible. Even walking on water. And even when we fear we are sinking; even when we know our plate is too full of responsibilities; even when our very real sorrows threaten to break our spirits and drag us beneath the waves, we will fear not. For God is with us. Amen.
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