You may have heard some subtle murmurings about a celebration happening today.
Over the past couple of weeks, whenever I open Facebook, there’s a new post about the one-year anniversary of Rev. Paula at St. Christopher’s. But, really, what we are celebrating today is the one-year anniversary of our partnership in ministry. And it is good.
The first sermon I preached here (a year ago) recalled a pilgrimage trail I hiked in 2014. The Via Francigena is an ancient trail that led early Christian pilgrims from Canterbury to Rome. I jumped onto the trail north of Siena, Italy.
On the first day of our hike, the trekking company met us and gave us maps, a St. Christopher medallion, and a warning. They presented a picture of the Italian Sheep Dog and explained that these dogs are very dangerous. They protect the family’s sheep from all predators including humans. If we saw one, we were told: “Do not run. The dogs will attack you. But, hey, not to worry, we have never had a sighting of these dogs on the trail.”
Of course, on day one, we would encounter two Italian Sheep Dogs who were ready to take us out.
The shepherd who owned the dogs was running a tractor and did not hear us shouting for help. But, eventually, he saw us. To distract his dogs, he threw rocks at them. And then he pointed down the trail and shouted in French: “Allez! Allez!” Go! Go!
On the Sunday, we are celebrating our one-year anniversary of mutual ministry, Jesus gives a one-word command to Peter, “Come!”
A few years ago, I visited the Holy Land. We stopped at a museum near the Sea of Galilea to look at artifacts from ancient times. One of the most memorable items was a sailboat.
Archaeologists estimate the boat sank around the time of Jesus. It was well-preserved by the water and a good example of the boat in today’s Gospel.
The boat was not a yacht. I’m not exaggerating when I say the boat would fit in my living room. It looked like a big rowboat with a mast for sails.
Jesus sent the disciples in a boat like this to cross the Sea of Galilea. He intended to disperse the crowds and then join the disciples before they had gone far. But Jesus delayed, going instead to a mountaintop to pray.
When he finished praying, it was early in the morning. The disciples had been in the sailboat all night. Matthew says the boat was battered by waves, and still far from land because the wind was against them all night. It must have been a long, sleepless night for them.
Early in the morning, the disciples see Jesus walking toward them on the water. Their first reaction is fear. “It is a ghost.”
Jesus says, “It’s ok fellas. It’s me. Do not be afraid.”
Peter says, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”
Jesus says, “Come.”
When the Italian Sheep Dogs were running toward my friend, Phyllis and me, I became acutely aware of how unprepared we were for this encounter. I had a backpack with plenty of water and a rain poncho. Phyllis was sporting the backpack her grandchildren had given her: a purple Tinkerbell backpack complete with wings. We had nothing to defend ourselves.
We shouted commands in French, Spanish, and English but the dogs continued to advance. When the Shepherd finally spotted us, the dogs were 5 feet from us. We were frightened.
The Shepherd separated the dogs from us and then he pointed down the trail and shouted, “Allez! Allez!” We hesitated for a moment. Turning away from the dogs meant trusting a shepherd we did not know.
Truth be told, we had no better chance of surviving an encounter with the dogs whether we were facing them or running from them.
By turning away, we surrendered to trust.
The disciples had a rough night at sea. By dawn, they’re still stuck on the water. The wind is bad enough that waves are beating the boat. Suddenly, Jesus appears walking on water toward them. It seems like the disciples would be thrilled to get out of this boating nightmare and take their chances walking with Jesus.
But they hesitated. They do not yet see Jesus through the lens of faith.
Peter does. He climbs out of the boat, and he walks on water. And then a very human thing happens. Peter becomes acutely aware of the danger: the wind, the water. Logic shouts, “Peter you can’t do this.” And he begins to sink.
I love the response as is he sinking. He doesn’t try to swim back to the boat. He’s not going back to where he was before this epiphany, this awakening. Instead, his first inclination is to cry out, “Lord, save me!”
Peter knows who Jesus is. He didn’t figure it out by sitting in the boat. He figured out by walking in faith
Peter has been changed by the experience.
A remarkable epiphany happened in the life of St. Christopher’s a couple of years ago. When the building was taken away, you recognized that the church is not a structure. We don’t “go” to church. We “are” the church: a community of seekers walking with -- and toward -- Christ. Like Peter, you got out of the boat and began walking toward Grace, toward healing and toward a brand-new horizon that isn’t tethered to a boat dock.
Last August, you welcomed me to walk with you on this pilgrimage. My life has been enriched every day of this past year. You are part of me. And I am part of you.
We come to here to worship together, to give thanks for all that God is doing in our lives and our parish. We pray together. We exchange God’s peace with one another, and we come to God’s Table to share in one bread, one cup. This is Jesus’ command to Peter and to us: Come.
But that is only one part of the story.
Jesus also sends us into the world to be agents of his love in our friendships, our families, our community. Allez! Go.
As we continue walking together, may we go with Peter’s Holy Boldness.
May we remember that whether we’re walking on water or sinking in it, Christ is in us. And we are in Christ.
Amen.
