Ups and downs, a spiritual rhythm

About a year ago, I decided that I was going to take daily walk. Whenever I could, whatever the weather – within reason, I would go for a twenty minute march. It’s been good for me – helps concentration, often I meet people. What’s been a really lovely bonus is seeing the changes in the natural world.

One day it is all bare twigs, the next catkins are in flower. The bullocks in the field are lively when they are first let out, but as they grow they settle down. A few days of dry weather and the little stream becomes cracked mud. Over the year I’ve observed a rhythm to the seasons, a pattern of growth and change, variation held within stability.

The same is true of our own lives. We live within time, and to exist in time means change. There is a natural fluctuation, a rhythm. Sometimes the reasons are obvious – weight goes up when you eat more cake. Sometimes the reasons are less clear – moods go and up and down without necessarily having an obvious cause.

This happens in our spiritual lives too. As we continue our sermon series on prayer, this week we look at the joys and the sorrows, the agony and the ecstasy that comes in following God and particularly in our prayer lives. Do you know what I’m saying? Do you get that variation too – the fact that some days prayer is easy and I want to spend time with God, but other days a Facebook feed or an old magazine is all it takes because I half want to be distracted? One week we’re keen to find God’s will for our lives, another week following him feels like a burden.

That rhythm is natural. What goes up also comes down. And vice versa. So after a great spiritual event, like an ordination, it’s inevitable there will a period of just getting on with it. But those more challenging times are very important. Those are the times when God teaches us self-discipline. We learn to follow Him, not like a dog which gets a treat every time it performs, but as free individuals who know what’s right.

So it you make a great step forward in your faith and then run into a difficult period, don’t despair. It’s not a sign that your faith is weakening – far from it, this is designed to help you grow. Keep praying, keep living for God. However don’t acquiesce to the change and accept it as the new norm. Don’t lose your ambition. For it won’t last forever. And when you emerge from the desert, you’ll be stronger.

Few people knew this better than St Paul. He had been through immense challenges, and also some incredible high points. If anyone had met with triumph and disaster, it was Paul, and he describes it in the reading we heard from 2 Corinthians 12 v2-10.

It’s not immediately obvious what’s going on. It seems that the people in the church at Corinth had an issue with Paul: they felt he wasn’t particularly impressive, not the charismatic leader they wanted. The Corinthians knew of ‘super-apostles’, people who’d had interesting spiritual experiences – and talked about them. So in this passage Paul is pushed to defend himself. He doesn’t want to, he seems quite diffident about it. He starts talking about ‘another person’ who’s had a remarkable spiritual odyssey – but it becomes clear this man is actually Paul himself.

He says he was ‘caught up’. In other words, a spiritual experience is a gift. Whenever we have a particular insight or moment with God, a sense of his presence, it is a grace from him. Not something earnt. Techniques of prayer can help open us up to the way God wants to meet us – but nothing forces him to act. Prayer is not an ABC checklist that always leads to a particular result – it’s a relationship. Remember that.

In verse 2 Paul talks about the third heaven – traditionally there were believed to be seven levels. And in v.3 he’s not sure whether he went ‘in the body’ or not. In other words, it can be hard to describe a spiritual experience. Is it a vision? A dream? Are you physically there? This difficulty can actually be a sign of what is genuine.

Whatever it was, Paul saw and heard things that ‘he is not permitted to say.’ We don’t know why, but Paul is not allowed to go into any detail about what he’s heard or seen. This is important. Real spirituality is like this: humble, consistent, doesn’t show off. There were many alternative spiritualities around in Paul’s time, just as there are today. Gnosticism, Mysticism, Kabbala, the Occult. Their practitioners went into great detail about what they thought they had seen. They tried to draw people in with the promise that you too can share in this secret knowledge.

Fake spirituality makes much of revealing secrets, of boasting about special experiences, giving techniques to the initiates. But Paul says true spirituality is rooted in Christ. If we’re given an experience of God, it’s there to encourage us. To build faith in him. Not to be an end in itself.

Spiritual experiences help give substance to our hope. They inspire us, encourage us, as we put our faith in Jesus. But the point is: our faith is in Jesus. The experience points to Christ, it is not an end in itself. So be wary of any spirituality which seeks after experiences for their own sake. Don’t be always chasing the latest high.

For faith is meant to make us love God and serve others. And sometimes faith is strongest when we are most challenged. Paul ends by saying that it is not the visions and ecstasy that he boasts of. Rather, he boasts of his weakness. For it’s through his weakness that the power of Christ is shown to be strong.

The English phrase ‘thorn in the flesh’ comes from this passage. We don’t know what it was Paul suffered from – an illness? A temptation? Three times he pleaded with Lord to take it away, but the Lord replied ‘My grace is sufficient for you. For my power is made perfect in weakness.’ It is the grit in the oyster that produces the pearl. So in v.10, Paul is ‘content with weakness, insults, hardships, persecutions and calamities for the sake of Christ, for whenever I am weak, then I am strong.’ In other words, it’s the challenges that reveal and strengthen faith, as much as, if not more than the high points.

We can see this in the gospel reading too. The disciples did amazing things. They healed people and preached to crowds, but Jesus anticipated that they would be rejected, because he was. When Jesus returned to the village where he was brought up, the response was not pride at the local lad made good, it was ‘Who does he think he is?’

That’s why Jesus could do no miracles there. It wasn’t that his power was limited, it’s that people had closed themselves off to him. Don’t believe those who say ‘You’re not healed because you haven’t got enough faith’. That’s wrong. Jesus can work wherever there is any faith – even a tiny amount. Remember the man who said ‘I believe, help me in my unbelief.’ If we’re willing to work with God, he can work with us, no matter how small our faith. But those people had closed themselves off, they refused to accept him.

Even today it’s hard to establish your own identity if people think they already know who you are. But it’s crucial that those who are growing in faith are given the space to develop, the freedom to try things out, the liberty to succeed or fail in a supportive environment.

Looking out for one another is key. For as we’ve heard in the Christian life there are great joys. Closeness to God, blessing, times when what we do is effective. Yet there are also times where, despite faithfully following God’s will, we experience challenge, opposition, spiritual dryness even apparent failure.

We’ve thought about the reasons for this. The natural ebb and flow of our energy. External forces beyond our control. Our openness to God. But sometimes the reasons are not obvious – and maybe those times of challenge strengthen our faith through perseverance and learning to trust God when we can’t see the way ahead.

So in those times we should be aware of what’s going on, take care of one another, make the challenges a subject of our prayers, and also rejoice in what God is able to do with us.

For God is with us in the triumphs and the disaster. God is in the agony and the ecstasy. One day the set-backs will fade, never to return. And we will be in his presence for ever.

 

 

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1 Samuel 9:4-20

How do you pass things down the generations? Yesterday we enjoyed a great fete – lots of people having fun. What made it notable is that a younger generation were organising. The people in their 60s and 70s handed over to those in their 40s – and it’s going well.

Doesn’t always though. A certain media empire wrestles with the question: Is it better to keep it in the family? At times the  White House doesn’t seem keen to bring in expertise from outside.

 

Countless businesses have struggled with the same question. And it’s a tricky one. Maybe there just isn’t anyone who wants to take on the family farm. Or perhaps the younger generation are keen – but they want to do it their way, with their ideas, not the way grandpa did it. What might just work for a business isn’t best for a nation. Our reading today from 1st Samuel 8 considers, how will a good ruler be chosen?

 

Don’t do what Samuel did. His big mistake came before our reading, in v.1-3. He appointed his sons as judges, but they became corrupt. A familiar story from the lives of many leaders. What’s particularly strange though, is that Samuel started his career when his predecessor Eli made exactly the same mistake. As we heard last week, Eli the priest had sons who were corrupt so God sent a message to Samuel telling Eli that their conduct would not be tolerated any longer. So you might expect Samuel to have learnt – yet it seems he has no more control over his sons than Eli did.

 

Three times in today’s reading the word listen is used. It’s a passage all about listening and obedience. But this isn’t the listening of a well-trained sheepdog which follows its master’s whistle exactly. This is about people who don’t listen to God. Alarmingly, it’s also about a God who allows us a scary amount of freedom. As we continue our sermon series on prayer this is a salutary reminder that we worship a God who listens to us. He is a God who believes in our freedom, who might even allow us what we want, even if it’s not the best thing for us.

So it starts with Samuel, who had heard the message to Eli. He had seen what happened to Eli’s sons, and yet he failed to learn the lesson himself. He chose his successors from his own family.

 

The principle goes wider. It can be tempting for managers to promote people who agree with them, or who make them feel good – but flatterers are fickle and yes-men rarely have leadership qualities themselves. Some leaders choose lieutenants by repaying those who are owed a favour or do it on the basis of dead men’s shoes. Neither of those approaches leads to the best stewardship, nor to public service.

 

Those of us who act as leaders should choose our colleagues not for our own convenience, but remember that we have a wider responsibility.

In this light v.4-5 might seem reasonable. The people state the facts, somewhat baldly. ‘You are old, and your sons do not follow in your ways – appoint for us then a king to govern us like other nations.’ Clearly they cherish and admire Samuel even if their tact is lacking. But Samuel takes it personally, in v.6, Samuel was displeased.

 

How easy it is to take opposition to heart! How easy to confuse the role with the person. To imagine that if your idea is opposed that people don’t like you. Or to go off in a huff. But sometimes role and person must be separate.

 

For instance, the first women priests had a lot of opposition. Some said it was easier to cope when they realised that the opposition wasn’t directed at them as people – it was what they represented. Interestingly, in many cases once congregations had got used to the person they were also able to accept the role. It’s very important for everyone in whatever situation to be able to keep the distinction between person and role, so that it doesn’t get too personal.

 

 

Sometimes it’s God who’s actually being rejected. Just as it was for Samuel. In v.7b ‘The Lord said they have not rejected you, they have rejected me from being king over them’. Again, there’s a failure to listen. The Biblical book of Deuteronomy is clear: God is their king. That’s why early Israel didn’t have monarchs – they were ruled by God who made his will known through prophets and judges like Samuel. Asking for a king was actually a profound rejection of the Lord.

 

So isn’t it all the more surprising that God seems to give in? What does he say in v7: ‘Listen to their request!’ Might he not have refused? There is a frightening responsibility here – God gives us what we ask for. Sometimes I hear people talking about their past and saying that such a thing must have been God’s will because he allowed them to do it. Implying that if God hadn’t wanted it, it wouldn’t have happened.

 

That’s not the way God works. Our heavenly Father gives us free will. He gives us the opportunity to choose, for better or for worse. And it wouldn’t be a free choice if the consequences weren’t truly open.

 

Therefore Samuel had to explain to the people what a king would do. The grass seems greener on the other side. Sometimes people need to know what the alternative actually involves. They have to be brought back to the real world. Occasionally we might look at an unhappy present and imagine a future ideal. Dreaming like that isn’t harmful – it can inspire us – provided that we face that fact that choices have to be made between real-life situations. And perfection is rarely possible. Maybe next time you meet someone complaining about something, it might be worth asking them: ‘what’s your solution?’

 

And that’s what the prophet does in verses 10-17. He tells what the king will do. The king will take the best for himself. He will take a whopping 10% for his people. Shows how much things have changed, that in those days an oppressive rate of tax was 10%! But then again, it was only for the armed forces and the king. No welfare state back then!

Yet the people do not listen. ‘No but we are determined to have a king over us. There are two reasons: We want to be like other nations. Not an informal coalition of tribes, relying on the worship of one God. Not living radically as a witness to the Gentiles. We want to grow. We want identity. Boundaries. Power. More land. Empire. We want a king.

 

Israel was meant to change the world. Instead they ended up being changed by it. Rather than listen to God and share that good news with the world, they listened to the world and asked God that they might be the same. The same challenge faces Christians today. Will we be witnesses? Or will we be conformed? Are we light in the world, pointing the way to Christ? Or do we seek to be like the other nations, taking our values from the world? What do we really value, and why?

 

And then their second reason ‘so that our king may govern us and go about before us and fight out battles.’ Perhaps we can sympathise with this. They did face real threats of invasion. Rule by God must have seemed a bit of a gamble. Is God really there? Does it make a difference in battle? And if God chooses the leaders by giving them his Spirit, well who will he send? Will they be up to it? At least with a king you know where you stand. You can see him!

 

It’s about trust, isn’t it? Following God is step into the unknown, a leap of faith. Faced by an alternative radical lifestyle, and the seeming uncertainty of God as King, the people opted for the allure of the nation state and the security of a human king. The irony was, they were less secure. For no human king would be up to the challenges the nation of Israel would face. Many were tried and found wanting. Only those who depended on God made the grade. Only he could ultimately save.

 

So God says again ‘Listen to them’. They are set in their way so he will allow them what they want. Yet the amazing thing about the way this story turns out is that God did not give up on them. Yes, the kings of Israel often did do exactly what Samuel had said. But there were also kings who ruled wisely: David, Hezekiah, Josiah. Maybe the institution was flawed from the start, but God in his grace was able to use the monarchy for good. It’s a reminder to us that, even when we mess up, God does not give up on us. He can take our mistakes and turn them round. If there’s anything in your life that you wished never happened, a mistake you made, bring it to God, see what he can do.

 

For God can even turn our mistakes into blessings. The change God brings is so great that even our errors and sins can be transformed and become something good. Look at the beginning and end of the Bible.

 

The Bible begins with two naked people in a garden. When they do wrong they cover their shame with clothes. Their descendants try and build a city which reaches to the skies, but their pride is punished when God divides their languages so they cannot understand one another.

 

What then would we expect at the end of the Bible? All being put right, a return to the golden age, of nakedness in a garden?

 

The Bible ends with a great multitude, from every tribe and language, clad in white robes as a glorious city descends from heaven. God has not put the clock back. He has taken human sin, and its consequences and totally transformed everything. The path we have taken cannot be untrodden, instead it is planted with flowers.

 

That’s exactly what God does with the idea of having a King. It becomes a model for Jesus. The one who would lead and serve perfectly. The one who now reigns with God.

 

Jesus was sent to be a King. Jesus too was rejected, the people did not want him as their Lord. We heard that in the gospel reading. And so they crucified him. Yet God turned that rejection into redemption. Jesus’ death in our place, on account of our sins, opened the way for all humanity to return to God. His love really is that awesome.

 

And so, to conclude. Our readings today challenge us – to whom do we listen? Do we listen to God and try to share that sensitively with the world around? Or do we take our values from the world around and hope that God won’t mind? Do we take responsibility for our decisions – for that responsibility is given by God and respected by him.

 

Recognising that we all make mistakes, can we see the hand of God in redeeming them? Will we allow God to transform our lives, not by putting the clock back, but by taking the hand we have dealt ourselves, and with it creating something beautiful and wonderful?

Listening. Acts 8:26-end

I wonder what makes a holiday complete for you? For a lady I know, whatever the weather, it’s essential to find a café and have a cream tea. For me, it’s building a dam. Holiday isn’t complete unless we’ve been to a sandy beach with a stream and dammed it, enclosing a vast pool which you can then breach creating a wave of water rushing to the sea. It’s great because I can spend the whole afternoon dam-building and still say ‘Look, it’s for the children, honest.’

I soon found out that if you’re building dams you have to work with the natural features of the beach. Use the contours to shape your pool, build where the rocks are already restricting the flow. You have to see where the water wants to run and work with it.

Working with God’s Kingdom is like working with water. The stream of the Holy Spirit is already flowing in the world. God was active long before you or I arrived. We don’t do well if we then start building somewhere completely different! If we dig where the Spirit isn’t, if we try and channel God into our plans, little happens. Often the first step in our task if we want to grow the Kingdom of God is to listen, observe and see what God is doing. If our church wants to serve God well we need to ask: What is God calling us to do?

Where does he want us to join in? We need to listen – and the Merlin exercises many of our churches have been doing are all about that. Discerning God’s call. I’m being constantly reminded how important it is to pray about this. That’s why we’ve got the Grace prayer meeting on the last Wednesday of every month. That’s why we’re gathering to pray for children’s ministry on May 15th. That’s why there’s a 24 hours of prayer on Fri 11th and Sat 12th May. It’s so good to be listening to what God is doing so we can join in.

For the church doesn’t take God into the rest of the world – it is his world and he is there already.

This is what Philip found when he met the Ethiopian in the story from Acts.

Now, if everything was going well for you in your job, if you were overcoming challenges, recruiting people, meeting success everywhere how would you feel about being posted to the middle of nowhere to start again from scratch?

That’s what happened to Philip. Before our reading, in v.5 Philip went to the city of Samaria and proclaimed the Messiah to them. The crowds with one accord listened eagerly to what was said by Philip, many miracles were done, evil was overcome. It was great.

But then in v26 the angel of the Lord appears to Philip and tells him to leave this wonderful successful ministry, walk 66 miles across the hills, not stopping at Jerusalem, down to the wilderness road that goes towards Gaza. And then when he sees a chariot God tells him to run, in the heat of the desert, and catch up with a trotting horse!

I’m struck by how amazingly open Philip must have been. Open to God guiding him in different ways. When the Early Church created deacons, they intended them to be administrators. People who would ensure food distribution went smoothly. The deacons’ job was to wait on tables so the apostles could get on with evangelism. Yet very quickly deacons like Stephen and Philip were preaching the gospel. God had a plan for them, and the early church allowed them to follow God’s call.

And then, when all the facts on the ground suggested he ought to stay in Samaria, Philip recognised the nudging of the Spirit and responded obediently. He was open to the possibility that he might be needed elsewhere. Open to sacrifice. Trusting God though he had no idea how it would turn out.

How do we trust God? Often we do that by straightforward Christian obedience. Most of the time the things God wants us to do are obvious.  Right in front of our noses. Doing our work well, being loving to the people we meet, taking the opportunities to share our faith. We don’t have to agonise in prayer deciding whether to do this stuff. All the guidance to do these essential things is in God’s word. But sometimes the Holy Spirit nudges us to do something particular.

Just the other day I was heading off to say Morning Prayer in Stanton church. I had a nudge from God – a thought popped into my head that I ought to take my church keys. I don’t need to do that – Hilary always unlocks the door each morning. But, I thought, maybe something’s happened to her so that she can’t get in. So I put my keys in my pocket.

When I got to church, the door was unlocked. I thought no more of it until, just before we were due to start, the electricity meter man turned up. And where’s the meter? In the vestry, behind a locked door!

At a time when there was a lot on my mind and I was worried about lots of things, it seemed that God was telling me something. He knows everything. If he can sort it out so I don’t have to head back home to pick up a key, and the meter man doesn’t have to hang around; if God can give me a nudge to sort out a tiny thing like that – then surely he can guide me and direct me through the really important things in life!

That’s a pretty small example – but God likes to build our faith. He starts by giving us a nudge to do something small – and if we respond we’ll find that’s faithful. Next time, it might be something more challenging. Ways you or I can be part of someone else’s solution. God does this when we are listening – and we develop the habit of listening through prayer. When we spend time with God praying, when we hold others before him by name, when we sense God’s response and guidance, we learn how to listen to him.

So if you sense that God is prodding you, pray it over, and if you think it is God, you may not know why but pluck up your courage and act.

When Philip does so, the guy he meets is an Ethiopian. Obviously interested in the Jewish religion, perhaps even a convert, but Gentile background nonetheless. At this stage in the early church, God had begun widening out the good news to other nations – first including Jews, then Samaritans who were kind of heretical Jews, now a Gentile proselyte. But this man was also a eunuch. Someone who was banned by Old Testament law from worshipping in the temple. What can God do with him? Philip might well have thought.

I once said to a colleague: ‘Isn’t it good that Charlie has started coming to Evensong’. ‘Naah,’ said the lay reader, ‘you’ve got mixed up. Charlie’s lived in this village for 70 years, only ever come to church for a funeral.’ Next week he came up to me ‘God’s amazing. Charlie was at Evensong!’ It’s so easy to think ‘So and so won’t be interested.’ Let’s not write people off, but give them the opportunity to find God.

Charlie was pretty amazing too – it’s not easy to change your habits when everyone in a small village knows who you are.

I’m struck by how open the Ethiopian eunuch was. Here is an important man: the Chancellor of the Exchequer of a foreign power. He is riding along in his official chariot when some sweaty bloke turns up, jogging alongside and asks ‘Do you understand what you’re reading?’ Many people might have told Philip where to go, but not this official:

In verse 31: ‘How can I, unless someone guides me?’ He doesn’t understand and he’s not afraid to admit it. For him, a lack of knowledge is not an embarrassment but an opportunity. If he doesn’t get it, he will seek help so he can. What a wonderful attitude to have! So often I meet people who are ashamed they haven’t read much of the Bible, or keep their doubts and questions securely under wraps. Which is sad, because if we were open and honest about our needs, we could address them.

If that sounds like you then don’t be embarrassed. Why should you have all the answers? Ask questions. Talk to someone!  Admit when you don’t know – you can bet that someone else won’t either. Just the other week I was in a training session and the facilitator asked: ‘is there anyone who’d like that explained a bit more?’ Somebody cautiously raised a hand – and the rest of us breathed a sigh of relief – thank goodness they’d raised it, we were too shy to!

Philip’s openness shows as he draws alongside the chariot. He listens. He hears the man read Isaiah. Philip then starts a conversation with an open question: ‘Do you understand what you’re reading?’ And when the man answers ‘No’, Philip listens to the question. ‘Is the writer of Isaiah talking about himself or someone else?’ Seems obvious it’s someone else, but Philip takes it seriously as an honest question. I’ve had all sorts of strange conversations with people about spiritual stuff they’ve read on the internet, aliens and what have you, and however daft you think the question is it’s important not to be dismissive.

We can only connect with people if we listen to them. Good listening means being able to respond, appropriately. One very important thing is to be aware of the reason behind the question. For instance if someone says ‘if there’s a God how comes there’s so much suffering in the world?’ – is that a question for philosophical debate? It might be. Or are they asking because they’ve recently been through the mill? Rather than jump in with an answer, a listening response might be ‘that’s a good question, can you tell me how it’s important to you?’

We can see that Philip has listened. He starts where the man is. And he shows the man respect by pointing him to Scripture and speaking about Jesus. Philip would not have done the Ethiopian a favour if he said ‘Who’s it about? – well that’s up to you. The answer is whatever you make of it’ The Ethiopian would not have gone away any the wiser if Philip had said ‘If it works for you then it’s true’. Instead Philip shared the good news with him.

That’s important because the Bible explains God’s purposes. Jesus gives the context that makes sense of faith. In Jesus we have answers for life – so let’s not hide them away or back off if people ask us.

So the Ethiopian trusts God and decides to get baptised. This is the last we hear of him, but one of the most ancient churches in the world is the one in Ethiopia. The Ethiopian Coptic Christians link their origins to this man, who shared the good news in his home country. Through Philip’s obedience a whole country was eventually led to Christ.

God led Philip to the Ethiopian, and now the Holy Spirit takes Philip away again, dropping him in Azotus where he continues to preach the gospel. It’s like that with serving God – we’re called to play our part, and leave the rest with God. It’s not down to us whether someone responds to God – that’s between God and them. We’re not ultimately responsible – God is.

I find that incredibly liberating. It’s a great encouragement to join in God’s work. God is already active in people’s lives. He calls us to join him in what he’s doing. He asks us to listen – to listen for the wind of his Spirit, to listen to those we meet, to listen to Scripture and tradition. Let us listen act and speak faithfully, open to God’s leading and rejoicing in the privilege he gives.

Peace be with you

Luke 24:36b-48

here was some remarkable news announced last month. Scientists searching for a cure for diabetes have come up with a breakthrough. They looked at the genetics, and the way diabetes affects people and found that it is not one disease, but as many as five different types.

 

It could be great news. Of course, other scientists must check the idea is right. And then they’ve got to put it into practice by developing treatment. If they can do this, it could change the lives of millions.

 

In a way, you can think of the Resurrection as being similar. If the idea that Jesus rose from the dead is true, and if it can then be put into practice then it is life changing. For if Jesus really did rise then we need to take him seriously, it means he’s with us now. He opens the gate to life after death.

 

Our reading from Luke’s gospel sets out to do just that. St Luke deliberately records it so that anyone reading can be confident that Jesus is alive and so that it can make a change to us today. Luke describes something which happened late on the very first Easter day.

 

Imagine those disciples, all gathered together in secret with the doors locked. It has been the strangest of days, starting, as did Saturday, in the depths of grief. Some of the women went off to tend Jesus’ grave. Soon they rushed back, full of tales of angels and an empty tomb. But as v.11 tells us, the disciples didn’t believe them.

 

Someone goes with Peter, checks it out and finds the tomb is empty. Then Peter reappears in a hurry, claiming to have seen Jesus. While he’s still speaking two disciples burst in saying they spoke with Jesus while walking to Emmaus. Everyone’s struggling to get to grips with the news when a familiar voice says ‘Peace be with you’. They turn around. It’s Jesus! They jump a mile, gasp out loud. ‘The doors are locked. How did you get in here?’ ‘Aren’t you dead?’ ‘Is it a ghost?’

 

Was he a ghost indeed? Sometimes it has been suggested that what the disciples saw was some kind of apparition, wishful thinking, or maybe an hallucination. Jesus does four things to make it quite clear he’s real.

 

Firstly, he speaks. He reassures them. ‘Peace be with you’ is the standard Jewish greeting, but there is a deeper significance to it as well. You can know peace for Jesus is risen. Peace, not guilt, is ours because sin has been forgiven. Peace, not fear, can be ours, because Jesus has defeated death. His resurrection brings peace from God to humanity.

 

So if you are troubled by worry, remember that Jesus brings peace. If you find that concerns go round and round your mind and won’t leave you alone – perhaps you could try imagining that upper room. Imagine being one of those disciples. Imagine Jesus speaking peace to you. Imagine his breath blowing away those worries. Allow yourself to experience his peace.

 

As we look at events in the world around us, we might feel that peace is very far away. Talking about peace might make us think of getting away from it all, shutting out the world, curling up in a little ball and trying to focus on feeling peaceful. But that’s not Christian peace. Christian peace comes as we engage with the world, as we share in its pain, and bring it to God in prayer. Christian peace comes from involvement, when we have done what we can and entrust it to God. Christian peace holds the big picture in mind, is peaceful because nothing can separate us from the love of God.

 

The second piece of evidence Luke sets out for the reality of the Resurrection is that Jesus can be touched. In v.39 Jesus tells them to touch his hands and feet – and they are solid ‘a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.’ In John’s gospel the emphasis is on Christ’s hands and his side, referring to the crucifixion wounds and showing that it’s really Jesus, who really died. Luke’s emphasis shows that his resurrection body is a physical body that can be touched.

 

For, thirdly, Jesus eats a piece of fish. (presumably if he was a ghost you’d be able to see it go in and get churned around like a barium meal!) All this tells us that Jesus really is alive, in a physical sense. It’s very important. Sometimes people will talk about the inner meaning of the Resurrection, or the hope that Jesus is still with us today, in a way that seems to deny that the physical body of Jesus was raised. But this gospel makes it clear that Jesus appearances at the Resurrection were not just some kind of vision or symbolic message. He spoke, ate and the disciples touched him.

 

Why is this important? It’s not simplistic or literalistic. This belief makes a difference for our future hope. For where Jesus is, we shall follow. The destiny he has is the one we shall enjoy. So we can be confident that when we die our future is not as an immaterial, insubstantial ghostly sort of thing. You will not be a drop that loses itself in the ocean. Nor merely a memory in the mind of God. But truly, really alive. Ourselves, and more ourselves than we have ever been.

 

Yet at the same time, Jesus clearly doesn’t have a body exactly like he had before. He can appear behind locked doors, come and go at will between places that are miles apart. It’s as if it’s a physical body which can also inhabit a spiritual dimension. In 1 Corinthians 15 St Paul tells us that the physical, earthly body is different from the heavenly body. He uses the image of a seed: which grows into a plant that is in many ways very different from the seed, yet genetically the same. We cannot understand what the new body is like until we experience it ourselves…

 

The fourth thing Jesus does is explain to them that all this was predicted in the Old Testament. It is easier to believe if you can see how it was foretold. It makes sense as part of God’s plan: ‘Thus it is written: that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name.’

 

And one way it makes a real world difference. It’s a message to be shared. The disciples were witnesses to what happened to Jesus, they needed to tell others. In obedience to Jesus’ command they did so and that is why we are here today, because they told others, who passed it on and eventually the church was founded here.

 

We today are part of that succession. You and I have inherited that message of the risen Jesus. And we also have our own experiences, ways in which we know that Jesus is alive. Christians today know Jesus in prayer – the peace which he breathed on the disciples is felt today when we meet him as we pray.

 

We may not touch the physical body of the risen Jesus, but we receive him in bread and wine. Perhaps you have had the sense of him speaking to you, maybe as very personal guidance or as the words of Scripture coming alive.

 

So Jesus calls us to know him and to share that good news with others. That is what we are here for. Over the last month I’ve been to plenty of church annual meetings. We talk about buildings – keeping the roof on, reordering, finances, trying to get enough people to do the jobs. All of which is, in its own way, necessary and important. But that’s all a means to an end. The heart of what we’re here for, the reason for the church, is to know the risen Jesus alive today and to share that good news with the people around so that they can come to know him too.

 

Of course that can be quite a challenge. When Mary and her companions said that they had seen angels at the empty tomb, the disciples disbelieved them. They were still surprised when Jesus appeared, even after Peter and the Emmaus two had spoken. If we share our faith, we may find that it takes a while for people to understand. Not everyone will. Don’t give up. After all, even the disciples were hard to convince.

 

Perhaps there is a clue why in the final verse of our reading: Jesus says ‘See I am sending upon you what my Father promised; so stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high’.

 

In other words they must wait to be given the Holy Spirit. The Spirit had not yet come when Mary told the disciples. And it is the Spirit who convinces people of the truth about Jesus. The meaning for us is clear: We should pray that the Spirit will move in people’s hearts to convict them of the truth. We should pray too that we may be filled with the Spirit so that our testimony comes with the Spirit’s power. For this is good news, an event in the physical world which makes a life changing difference. It’s good news today, for all the world. So let’s pray that Spirit will come and fill our witness to the Risen Lord…

Complaining

I wonder if anyone has ever complained to you? If you work in a service industry, or in education you probably get it all the time. Some people’s jobs are all about dealing with complaints – it’s euphemistically called the Customer Service Department.

 

You may be surprised to hear it happens in church too. I found an interesting bit of informal research on Twitter. Someone had asked church leaders to send in the strangest complaints they’d ever received – here is a selection:

          Our expensive coffee is attracting too many trendy people

          You need to change your voice

          We need to start attracting more normal people at church

          Your wife never compliments me about my hair or dress

 

Fortunately I’ve never had any of those comments made to me. But I’m sure that you can think of things that have been said to you that are equally ridiculous. Dealing with complaining is a part of life, and often it seems to go in phases.

 

You’d imagine that there’s more moaning in a community when life is hard. Oddly though the Exodus reading we’ve just heard happened very soon after the highest point, the pivotal event in the Old Testament – the Exodus itself. God rescued his people from slavery, he judged the Egyptians, he brought the Israelites through the Red Sea. All these incredible things had happened – but then people started to complain.

 

Maybe it’s the feeling of let down after the most amazing events. Whenever there’s a high, you have to come back down to earth, and sometimes that can be with a jolt. You get a new car, and it’s wonderful at first, and then you start finding little flaws. I find with medical crises that Adrenaline can sustain you through difficult times, but oddly it’s when the crisis has passed and life is slowly returning to normal that it can be most difficult. One of our churches is enjoying a wonderfully reordered new building right now – you just have to go and see it, it’s a glorious space, there’s so much to be thankful for. 

 

There will be a point though where that church has to get to grips with the routines and costs of a new building, there will be a realisation that the church’s mission and outreach must carry on – we can’t just rely on a new-build to do the work for us.

 

That jolt of reality is natural, and I think that we also have to remember that as human beings we can be quite extreme in our views and reactions. I suspect that from God’s perspective it’s never as bad as we sometimes think it is, and this side of heaven it’s never as triumphant either! Do you know Kipling’s poem If? I find it rather too Stoic in its emotional detachment, but on this particular point he hits the nail on the head: ‘If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster and treat those two imposters just the same’ – with a healthy scepticism.

 

Moses and Aaron certainly keep their head when all around them are losing theirs. Their response is a model of how we should act when faced with complaint and criticism, in whatever situation:

 

Firstly, they entrust it to God. They don’t try and solve it in their own strength. When we’re criticised we can give as good as we get or bark back with self-justification – and only once the situation has deteriorated turn to God in prayer. But here God tells Moses and Aaron what to do, they do it, and they give him the glory in front of the people.

 

Secondly they pay attention to God, and then if it’s right to do they address the complaint – how easy it is to modify what we do! We need to listen to what’s being said, if someone makes the effort to give feedback they need to know they’ve been heard, but we also need to have courage to stick to our course if it is undoubtedly the right thing to do.

 

Thirdly, Moses and Aaron find their identity in God in verse 7: ‘who are we that you complain against us?’ Moses had learnt the hard way that he alone could not save the Israelites. He had killed an Egyptian slave-master – and spent 40 years in the wilderness. Now he has learnt: his identity is not rooted in being a saviour, in solving all their problems. He does not depend on others for his self-worth. 

Whatever our role, whatever kind of authority we exercise, we need to know who we are in the eyes of God – accepted, loved, forgiven by him. His child first and foremost. When grounded in that identity as a child of God then we won’t be tempted to create our own identity or seek refuge in one made for us by others.

 

So far I’ve been speaking as if you and I identify with Moses and Aaron. But what if we’re the crowd? What if we’re the grumblers? Do we ever make life difficult for those in authority over us? I find it so easy to complain about such and such that ‘the diocese’ has done – but ‘the Diocese’ is always people. Do we complain to God about the task, or the people he has entrusted to our care? Do we need to repent and change? I guess that at various times in our lives each one of us can be Moses. And each one of us can be in the crowd.

 

God is incredibly gracious. Remarkably often he responds to complaint in a loving way. Think of the book of Job: Job has lost his flocks, his wealth, his family and his health. He complains bitterly to God – but God answers. Indeed God even affirms that ‘Job has spoken rightly of me!’ Job’s complaint was born out of faith. He believed God was good, and held on in prayer. There is a long history of Biblical, faithful complaint to God.

 

So when is complaining not faithful but just whinging? An unhelpful grumble. Perhaps it’s when it’s trivial. Like the person who really did say to a minister: ‘The loo roll in the ladies is the wrong way round. It’s rolled under.’ More significantly, it’s the tone that makes it a whinge or a workaround.

 

There’s a world of difference between ‘Why do we never have hymns we know?’ and ‘For Pentecost, could we have such and such?’ One just creates a problem and dumps it on someone else. The other owns the problem, shares concern and offers to work together in solving it.

 

I suppose the Israelites could have prayed to God rather than complain to Moses. If they weren’t sufficiently familiar with this God to pray, perhaps they could have said to Moses: ‘This God who can bring locusts and part the Sea, do you think he could give us some food?’

 

Firstly God answers in a natural way – the swarm of quails is a recognised desert phenomenon. And for me that’s a source of hope. God is gracious.

He responds to our needs. Indeed, the complaining leads to action. God in his love responds to their needs. Secondly, he answers in a miraculous way, through the manna.

 

But the manna will be a training experience for Israel. There are hints in this chapter of what will come later – elaborate instructions for when the Israelites can gather manna and when not. Why not give them enough for a week? Why have to go out gather each day? To learn that we must do our bit in order to work with God. So pray for healing, and keep taking the tablets. Pray for revival, and spread the word. Why gather twice as much for the day before the Sabbath? To learn obedience and trust in God. To learn that God will provide throughout the day of rest.

 

I wonder if you know anyone who has a tiny baby? Just a few weeks old? Watch that baby next time you meet them. Look at how the baby gazes at its mother, clearly believing that Mummy is all capable, all knowing. But listen to what happens when baby is hungry – the yelling and sobbing, the desperation, the urgency. And that’s just the parents!

 

A very little baby has to learn that its needs will be provided for. When it is really tiny it doesn’t understand that – so when baby feels hungry it is the end of the world. As the baby grows he learns to trust his parents, he realises that food will come, nappy will be changed. He discovers that Mummy and Daddy are reliable and that where they have been faithful in the past, they will be faithful again.

 

The Israelites had to learn that about this God who had rescued them. Maybe we too need to learn what it means to trust God. If he has been faithful to us in the past, we can trust him for the future. If the way has seemed dark but God knew what he was doing, surely the same is true today. If we seek guidance, if we need resources, if we want resilience, turn to God. For he is faithful.

 

 

Don’t email. Talk.

A handy piece of advice: Three out of four murders are committed by someone who knew the victim. That’s one good reason to maintain a small circle of friends. As we think about conflict in our gospel reading from Matthew 18v15-20, it reminds me of the saying by W C Fields: ‘The world is getting to be such a dangerous place that you’re lucky to get out of it alive.

Whether it’s the nuclear stand-off with North Korea, the turbulent Brexit talks, or the tragic situation in Burma, conflict is everywhere. We can experience it at all sorts of level – work politics, neighbourly disputes, marital disagreements, trolling on social media. It’s a part of human nature – and so we shouldn’t be surprised when we also find conflict in the church.

 

The church is made up of fallible human beings, on a journey of redemption. So it doesn’t make sense if people say ‘It’s the church, we can’t have any conflict’, or even, ‘I used to go to church but there was a disagreement and it put me off.’ I’m afraid it happens, we’re human. And conflict itself isn’t sinful – it’s not wrong to disagree – it’s the way you handle it that matters. You may have heard the joke: In 45 years of marriage my parents only had one argument. It lasted 43 years.

 

When Jesus speaks in this reading from Matthew 18:15-20, he knows that his disciples will fall out, which may lead to sin against each other. He’s assuming it will happen and giving guidance for what to do when it does. Do remember that in v.15 Jesus is talking about another member of the church doing wrong– a lot of the guidance he gives here would apply in any situation – but some of it is specific to the church

And it’s worth noting: not only does Jesus assume there will be times we get it wrong. He also assumes it’s worth sorting it out. When people fall out with one another, it’s good to do something about it. It’s good to lean in, to move towards conflict, to heal and reconcile. Why? Because when we do so, we follow the example of God who reconciles us with himself through Christ’s death on the cross. Jesus forgave those who killed him, he taught us to love our enemies, because we are all God’s children. Reconciliation therefore is at the heart of the gospel.

I wonder if you find that difficult? I do. It’s hard to go and speak to someone. It’s much easier to be right. Happier being annoyed. More comforting to close ranks with your friends and block out the offender. If you unfriend someone maybe you don’t have to worry about them again. But if we do that, we ultimately end in C S Lewis’s vision of hell: a grey barren plain with dimly lit houses spaced far apart – and the longer people spend there the more they fall out with their neighbours and the further apart they move from one another. Not addressing conflict makes people drift apart.

 

A loving parent cannot ignore it when one child pulls another’s hair. The Kingdom of God is built as we reconcile differences, make peace, and learn to live with one another. We need to make the effort.

 

So in verse 15 Jesus encourages you to make the first move. I saw a cartoon once: a couple sat glumly on a sofa. He’s thinking: ‘Why isn’t she talking to me?’ Do you know what she’s thinking: ‘Why isn’t he talking to me?’ Don’t wait for the other person. Maybe they don’t know they’ve upset you. Maybe the sin that’s obvious to you isn’t so clear cut to them – as someone once said ‘There are two sides to every argument –and they’re usually married to each other’

 

If it’s safe to do so – and do be aware, go and point out the fact when the two of you are alone. Not through others, not gossiping to the world, not pasting it all over Facebook. Preferably not by email or letter – so easily misunderstood, but face to face, one to one. Not in a kind of passive aggressive sort of way ‘I suppose I’ll be doing the washing up again then’. But clearly, directly, with humility and openness.

 

Confronting someone and owning how we feel is hard. Particularly if we have to say how we’ve been hurt. It takes real courage and prayer. But if we do so, it’s surprising how people can respond. I once had someone who sent the most horrendous emails. They were real scorchers and upset everyone. I had to gather courage to go and tell him how hurtful they were. He was genuinely surprised, and although I won’t say he was totally cured, the situation did improve.

A small caveat though – if you’re sitting here thinking ‘Well I don’t find that difficult. What’s the problem? It’s easy telling people when they’ve got it wrong. I do it all the time!’, then do please pause and think about how others might experience it. Many of us are nervous about conflict, a few people find it a bit too easy.

 

If going to see someone face to face doesn’t work, then Jesus escalates it to involving some more people. Not in the sense of ganging up on someone, but it can be useful in a difficult situation to bring in a mediator. Someone’s who’s not so intimately involved, who can try and be fair to both sides, who can create a calm atmosphere in which each person can say what they need to and be heard.

 

That sounds heavy. But it needn’t be. I’ve done a bit of work as a mediator, and the biggest problem is that you always get called in too late. It’s only once the relationships have broken down and people are thinking about resorting to legal avenues that someone says: ‘I know, let’s go for mediation.’ ‘Divorce is on the cards, let go to counselling’ It’s like a chaplain being called to a hospice as the patient takes their last breath – really to do any good you need to be there much earlier. So don’t be afraid to say early: ‘this is getting tricky, let’s get some help.’

 

If that doesn’t work, v.17 says ‘if the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church.’ Formal procedures have their place. Then, ‘if the offender refuses to listen to the church let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector’. So exclude them? Ostracise them like the Pharisees did? Or be like Jesus, who welcomed the tax collector and the Gentile, encouraged them to repent and find God? So if there is exclusion here, it is provisional. It is until such a time as the person who has done wrong admits to it, apologies and is ready to change.

 

In New Testament times, Christians were keen to keep disputes in house rather than go before corrupt secular judges. Besides, it did not look good if Christian fell out with one other in public. Nowadays though, for serious matters we cannot just keep things in house.

 

This year Dame Moira Gibbs reviewed historic child protection failures in the Church of England. Her report made it clear that resolving problems internally can all too easily be corrupted in a culture of cover up. Where crime has been committed we all have a duty to protect the vulnerable and involve the law.

 

But going back to the everyday problems, the kind of disputes which affect congregational life, just imagine what it would be like if all the church took this teaching seriously. Conflict would not simmer unaddressed but would be dealt with and healed. There would be fairness, respect, responsibility to one another. It’s a wonderful vision.

 

We would know the presence of God. In forgiving one another, learning to respect differences, we’d follow the example of Jesus. So as it says in v.20, where just two or three people living like this are gathered together, Jesus is there with them.

 

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this famous verse ends the passage on conflict. So often we take ‘when two or three’ out of context. We use it as a promise at the beginning of a prayer meeting – Lord we are gathered, we know you are here. Sometimes I have to remind myself of it when I leave the vestry of a country church and find a congregation which comprises the churchwarden, the organist and a sleeping dog. Ah well, when two or three are gathered together, Jesus is there with them.

 

But that’s not what it’s about. Jesus says that when two or three don’t avoid their arguments but heal them, he is there. When two who have fallen out are helped by the church to be reconciled, he is in that process. When I admit I have done wrong and you forgive me, we follow the example of Jesus. When I apologise for over-reacting I reach out to you and you respond in grace. When division is worked through, evil is overcome. When difference is integrated the Kingdom of God is built. God’s blessing comes in reconciliation; let us follow Christ’s way in our shared life together.

Walking on water

Everything seems peaceful as the gospel story begins. It’s been an amazing day – Jesus has fed the 5000. But now everything is calming down. It’s a lovely evening on the Sea of Galilee. After the excitement, Jesus goes off to pray and the disciples get into their boats. But Galilee is infamously treacherous. Desert air rises, storms sweep in from the surrounding hills. Wind and waves batter the boat far from land. Jesus walks out to them. Now the disciples panic – is it a ghost? Jesus reassures. Peter goes out to meet him. He doubts. It all goes horribly wrong. Jesus reaches out his hand and catches him

It seems to be calling us to faith – to be like Peter, to step out in faith – to keep our eyes on Jesus and not to be distracted by the storms that come our way. Yet if the tempests of life should overwhelm, Christ is alongside, able to rescue us when we call out to him

I remember seeing this story in a French seaside church on the Ile de Re. The painting covered an entire wall, with life sized figures. The theme’s been done a thousand times. But this one was different. I was deeply moved by it. For the disciples were real people

You know the kind of art you get in churches, where Jesus’ followers are identikit middle aged men with plain but well balanced features, and costume out of Victorian central casting. Instantly forgettable. These guys were real, they had lined weather beaten faces, individual hair, craggy features, warts and all. St. Peter particularly could only have been a portrait. I’m prepared to bet that someone in that village had paid for the painting. Perhaps it was a fisherman giving thanks for salvation after a storm. Perhaps we might see him walking down the street. Someone there was saying ‘I was Peter’.

 

I wonder. Have you been Peter? Have you have felt solidity vanishing under your feet? Have you seen everything you trusted in giving way? Have you felt yourself slipping beneath the surface, when the pressures of life overwhelm? Have you reached rock bottom, where all you can do is cry out ’Lord, save me’?

If so, then maybe you will have known also the hand of Christ. Sometimes we only find him when we have nothing left to cling to and there’s no alternative. But when you turn to him, he holds on to you. You may feel his strength keeping you up. You may not feel anything – but he is there. He will not let go of you

I’ve certainly felt like that at times this past year. With so much going on: the media campaign, being Area Dean, it can at times feel overwhelming. I cannot do it in my own strength. But God’s strength supplies all that I need. I just have to learn to be out there in the deep end, trusting in God.

Maybe you’ve known that love of God. That sustaining power. Or maybe you need it now. Don’t forget that Christ is there, that he loves you. Don’t be afraid to receive his help. Don’t leave it to the last minute to call out. Bring your needs to him in prayer

This has become a much loved miracle, speaking to many people.  What we can forget though is that this wasn’t some great misfortune which happened to Peter. He got himself into it. He was the bright spark who thought it might be a good idea to jump out of a wallowing rowing boat in the middle of a storm. He thought he might be able to walk over water. In verse 28 he said to Jesus: ‘Lord if it’s you, command me to come to you on the water

What amazing faith! Peter says ‘Lord, if you want me to do the impossible, I’ll do it. In fact, that’s the way I’ll know it’s you, because only you would ask me to

Do we see amazing things? Do we challenge God to call us further? One of the things I really like about our churches is that people do step out in faith. Someone said: Let’s reorder the North Aisle and start a new service.. Let’s hold a stewardship appeal as we’re coming out of the worst recession in decades

‘Let’s employ a children’s worker.’ It happened. The grants came in. Do you know that during the time the charity that has been supporting our children’s worker donated about £50,000 to the project but investment performance mean their reserves have only gone down by about £10,000. God is good

Bonkers? Or faith? All those things were thought about carefully. All of them were prayed through. The difficulties may have seemed vast, but people stepped out in faith.

If you want to see great things happen, then be like Peter. Throw down the gauntlet to God. Here I am Lord, send me. Let me know what you want and I’ll do it. I believe Lord that when you call a man or woman you give them what they need

In verses 29-30: So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on water and came to Jesus. But when he noticed the strong wind he became frightened, and beginning to sink he called out ‘Lord save me’.

Initial enthusiasm is great. Then you must keep going. Once he’s far enough from the boat to be alone, Peter begins to waver. He gets into trouble. It often happens when you set off in faith. I remember well when after five years planning the church reordering quotations came back. Even the lowest was twice what the PCC expected. Suddenly we were in trouble. We had to turn to God again

Living faith can be like that. We set off; full of enthusiasm, strong in the strength Christ gives. But once out of the safety zone, problems arise. There may be opposition, resolve falters. Then we need to turn to Christ anew. We need to learn through experience that he will provide. Perseverance despite opposition grows our faith.

When he saves Peter, in v.31, Jesus says ‘O you of little faith, why did you doubt?’ Why do we doubt? Because when the waves grow high, when the darkness clouds us in, Christ seems hid from view. Or is he?

Is it like Peter in v.30? Is it that we notice the strong wind, we focus on the problem, and we forget the Lord?

I’m not criticizing. I’ve been there. I remember when the time came for me to leave my curacy, you have a year to try and find a job. Sounds plenty! But I was young, inexperienced, in those days no-one wanted to take the risk. It was beginning to get really worrying and I started applying for ever more unsuitable posts. I’d forgotten that God was alongside me, that he had a plan. He often leaves it to the last minute. But when it came it was what he’d been planning all along.

The wind and the waves are so distracting. The problems can be like little goblins gibbering away in your face. You have to put them to one side. You have to make a conscious effort to focus on God. To look to him first, and then to lay down the problems at his feet

Now someone may be thinking: wouldn’t it be a lot easier to stay in the boat? Perhaps it would. But think what you’d be missing! What you wouldn’t achieve. How you wouldn’t grow. How much of knowing Jesus you’d miss out on. To be able to walk on water you have to step out of the boat

Christ calls us to follow him, wherever he goes. But we should be aware that getting out of the boat is only the beginning. We need persistence and the ability to keep fixed on Jesus. Even if we do get into difficulties – and if we try and do anything worthwhile, there will be problems – even if we do get into difficulties, Christ will save. 

He can do this because he is God. And I think that is the main point of the story. Although we tend to identify with Peter and the imaginative use of the story, nevertheless, Matthew’s emphasis is clear. Right at the end, the disciples are overwhelmed. They say: ‘Truly, you are the Son of God’. That’s what Matthew wants us to know. And it’s the same for the other Evangelists. Neither Mark nor John relate the incident with Peter – the main point for them is that Jesus walked on water. It is, pure and simple, a proof of divinity. The miracle was yet another piece of evidence that Jesus is divine

That, incidentally, is why you can’t explain away the miracle. Granted, it’s not an easy one to believe. And apologies if you’ve been sat here throughout the sermon thinking, ‘yes but did it really happen?

There have plenty of attempts to rationalize the miracle. For instance:  some say Jesus only appeared to be walking on water – he was actually walking by the lake! Going for an amble on solid ground. Or: Jesus wasn’t walking on the waves, there was a handily submerged mudflat, just so deep beneath the surface! As if it’s possible to walk securely on a submerged mudflat in the middle of a storm! Today, you too can walk on water. You can go to Lake Galilee, and for a few shekels you can wander about on a plastic sheet suspended in the lake. Hey presto, walking on water!

It’s bonkers! The gospel writers were not crazy. Those experienced fishermen would not have been fooled by Magic Circle tricks. When the gospel writers recorded this, they believed there were describing a miracle. They weren’t daft, they knew walking on water doesn’t happen unless it’s God. It’s evidence that Jesus is divine.

We can take it or leave it. We could believe it because if he were God then he could do that. Or some people disbelieve it and I suppose they have to say the evangelists made it up, created a myth with a spiritual meaning. The problem with believing it’s a just symbolic myth is that you end up with a spiritual meaning disconnected from physical fact.

But what you can’t do is water it down and take the meaning out of it. If you do, you end up with something that probably didn’t happen like that anyway, wasn’t what the Evangelists intended and is still pretty incredible.

The point of the miracle is that Jesus saved Peter. He saved Peter and was able to do so because he is the divine Son of God. He can intervene in our lives because he is the Son of God. And so we do all become Peter. Our own lives, our trials and tribulations are reflected in that dark and stormy night. Each one of us is the willing but fallible disciple. We too are full of enthusiasm one moment and doubting and fear stricken the next. And each one of us is also the disciple saved by Christ – the hands of Jesus reaching out and taking hold of us. So we too can know the wonder and love of the disciples. We too can exclaim with renewed faith: ‘Truly you are the Son of God’.