By Linda Rex
August 9, 2020, PROPER 14—When the disciples finished feeding the five thousand and walked about gathering up what was leftover of the bread and fish, they must have felt a sense of elation and maybe even triumph. The miracle Jesus had just done was so much like the manna that came through Moses—surely he was the Prophet spoken of! But there was a significant problem with the thoughts going through everyone’s mind right then.
Jesus never meant to establish a powerful political human government at that time. His purpose was not to become solely the provider of physical bread and physical healing. His life and ministry had a much deeper purpose—to be, as he already was, the Savior of all humankind.
As Jesus practically pushed his disciples into a boat to cross the lake, he sought to stop the momentum of the crowd’s passionate appeal to make him king. As the disciples left, he disbursed the crowd and made his way up the mountain to have time alone with his heavenly Father.
Jesus was in grave need of his Abba’s strength, power, and wisdom in the face of this human temptation to take matters into his own hands and rule under his own power. During his wilderness wandering the evil one had tempted him with this very thing. And he knew, after what had happened to John his cousin, what the most likely outcome of his ministry would be if he continued on this path of humility, compassion and service. He needed to keep himself in tune with his Father, in the oneness of the Spirit so he could finish what God had set out to do.
The communion of the Father and the Son was apparent as Jesus spent hours up on the mountain with his Abba. Meanwhile the disciples were making their way across the lake. A powerful storm blew up and the disciples were afraid for their lives. Great waves rose and fell, filling the boat with water. The wind blew harshly, tossing the boat about and making forward progress impossible.
Somewhere between three and six o’clock in the morning while it was pitch black out on the choppy water, they saw a figure walking across the lake. All of their superstitious fears arose—they thought they were seeing a ghost. People at that time believed that unembodied spirits haunted the deep waters late at night, and here one had found them. They were terrified.
Jesus must have sensed their terror for he called out, “Don’t be afraid. It is I.” In the other gospels we learn that Jesus intended to pass by them and go on to the other side of the lake by himself. But when he saw their distress, he had compassion on them and came to them in the midst of the battering waves.
Many times, when life gets complicated, when we feel like we are in danger of drowning in debt, in relational quicksand, in depression, or other struggles in life, we feel as though there is no hope to continue on. What efforts we make might be like those of these disciples in the boat, fruitless, powerless against the force of the storm. In the darkness it may be difficult to see where we are going or how we ever are going to get safely home. We may be endlessly going in circles, finding ourselves right back where we started from—or worse.
What we must remember at times like these is that what we may believe is a ghost or phantom, someone who has forsaken us, is actually our Lord coming to us in the midst of the battering waves. There is a genuine, real Savior who is master of the storm, who can still the wind and waves simply with a word.
Impulsive Peter wanted Jesus to prove who he was by inviting him out to walk on the water too. And he did. Peter and Jesus were the only humans to ever do this—but there was a difference between them. The minute Peter took his eyes off Jesus and began to focus on the wind and the waves, he began to sink into the water. He was completely dependent upon Jesus saving him. He had no power over the storm. It was when Jesus entered the boat with Peter that the storm ceased—and this drove the disciples to their knees in worship.
The reality we must come to terms with is that our existence is dependent upon God. We are at the mercy of our creation in ways we don’t want to admit to. For millennia we have worked to master this world and all its intricacies. But there are still things we don’t have control over—earthquakes, hurricanes, tornadoes—other natural occurrences. We have made great progress in dealing with COVID-19, but we have at no point come up with the power to stop the disease simply with a word. Only one human has ever had that power—and he was God in human flesh, Jesus Christ.
Nor do we have the power of redemption that Jesus has. There is a way where God can, and does, take the horrific experiences of our lives and redeem them—turn them into good, in spite of the harm they have done. The storm created havoc in the lives of the disciples, but Jesus turned it into an opportunity for them to grow in faith and in their knowledge of him as Lord and Savior. The storms in our lives, if we are willing, are opportunities for us to grow in our ability and desire to trust in Christ and to come to a deeper appreciation of our need for him and his love and provision. As we turn to Christ in faith, he can take these storms and use them as opportunities to refine us, to transform and heal us.
Coming to a realistic affirmation of who we are as God’s children is a great place to be, for there we find comfort, peace, assurance and hope. Today, are you feeling battered by the waves in your life? Do you feel tossed about, forsaken, hopeless? Perhaps you need to look up, to hear Jesus’ words to you, “Don’t be afraid. It is I.” Ask Jesus to awaken you to his presence in you and with you in the midst of the battering waves. Fasten your eyes on him, walk with him, and ignore the storm—he’ll take care of it in his good time. Thank him for his faithful love and grace as master of the storm. Worship him in gratitude and praise.
Dear Jesus, this world’s storms toss us about, blow us around in circles, and steal our hope. We know you are the Lord of all, our Savior and Deliverer. Grant us the faith to keep our eyes on you, no matter how bad the storms get. Speak your word of life and hope—carry us through these storms and silence them all in your good time. May your Spirit breathe life, peace, and hope to calm the battering waves in our lives and in this world. Keep us in our Abba’s hand and bring us safely to shore. Amen.
“Immediately He made the disciples get into the boat and go ahead of Him to the other side, while He sent the crowds away. After He had sent the crowds away, He went up on the mountain by Himself to pray; and when it was evening, He was there alone. But the boat was already a long distance from the land, battered by the waves; for the wind was contrary. And in the fourth watch of the night He came to them, walking on the sea. When the disciples saw Him walking on the sea, they were terrified, and said, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.” Peter said to Him, “Lord, if it is You, command me to come to You on the water.” And He said, “Come!” And Peter got out of the boat, and walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But seeing the wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus stretched out His hand and took hold of him, and said to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” When they got into the boat, the wind stopped. And those who were in the boat worshiped Him, saying, “You are certainly God’s Son!” Matthew 14:22–33 NASB
by Linda Rex
I don’t know about you, but sometimes I find God brings us right back to a place we have been with him before so we can see the same thing over again in a new way. Let me explain.
Many years ago, when God was rearranging my head and heart with regards to what I believed about him, I went on a search to learn all I could about living in relationship with the Holy Spirit. You see, I had been taught most of my life to that point that the Holy Spirit was merely the power of God or what God was made out of. The Holy Spirit was an essence, a thing, but most certainly not a Person, for that would mean I would have to believe in the Trinity, which I (misinformed as I was) believed was a pagan belief.
But coming to know the Holy Spirit as the Person he/she/it really was blew my mind, and rearranged everything I knew about God and myself. And all of a sudden, I began to see I was missing one of the most important things a person could know about life and how to live it—that I am beloved, I am never alone, and God is living within me in the Person and Presence of the Holy Spirit, transforming me from the inside out. And this Person is Someone I can (and should) interact with, follow, obey and worship.
To go through life struggling, powerless over sin, self and Satan, is not the desire of our heavenly Father. This is not what he created us for. Jesus didn’t come just to leave us as orphans. No, he sent the Paraclete, the other Helper like himself, so we could and would participate in the divine relations between the Father, Son and Spirit, and come to see and believe the truth about who God is and who we are in him.
Sometimes God allows life to get difficult and complicated. Sometimes he calls us into places of ministry and renewal which are beyond our ability to handle. And our human tendency is to either throw up our hands in defeat, or just knuckle under and do the best we can in the situation. But neither of these things are what God wants us to do in these situations, because we would be missing out on God’s best.
Our solution to life’s problems, challenges and opportunities too often is a new, well laid out plan or program, which we implement to the best of our ability in the situation we are facing. Now, I am not knocking well laid out plans or effective scaffolds we can work within. What I am pointing out, though, is this human tendency to be self-reliant rather than dependent upon God. I think being faced with more than we can handle is an opportunity to humble ourselves and acknowledge the reality we need Someone beyond ourselves to save us and help us.
Relationally, it is really difficult to live in relationship with someone who speaks and acts as though we are unimportant and unnecessary to their existence. It is really hard to parent a child or care for another person who believes they can do everything on their own when they don’t have a clue as to what they are doing—it’s so painful to watch them suffer the consequences of their stubborn willfulness and independence, and to not be allowed to guide and help them. But we put God through this all the time.
Indeed, in the wisdom of God, Abba has brought me again to the place he brought me many years ago—a place he brings me to a lot. This is the place where he brings all of us over and over again—the place where we must come to see, believe and admit, we are powerless over sin, self, Satan, and all those things in life we think we are capable of controlling or feel we are responsible for. We need to see, believe, and confess the truth—we need Someone beyond ourselves to intervene, and to empower us, to heal us, and to deliver us.
And this, I believe, is what the apostle Paul was talking about when he said it is in our weakness we are strongest. It is the place of emptiness and weakness where God pours in—not so we become a stagnant pool, but so we might again pour out into others and back into God, emptying ourselves so he might fill us again. This is the perichoretic life we were created for and redeemed to participate in. This is what some call the divine dance—the life which ever existed and exists and will exist in the inner relations of Father, Son and Spirit.
To always have everything under our control, or to always feel as though we need to save the day or to chronically attempt to do so, is to live dishonestly. This is not the truth of who we are, nor what we were created for. This is living in a dream world—where we are masters of our universe and we are in control of everything which happens in it. This is just not the way things really are.
And to live in this way is to be like the person in the square dance who decides to do a do-sa-do when everyone else is doing an allamande left—it creates havoc and pain for everyone involved. It’s like we become a tepid, salty lake rather than remaining a flowing stream. Something of God’s life flowing into us and out from us becomes quenched or stifled. And those around us no longer benefit from the overflowing spring of God’s Spirit and life, for it’s as if a quenching of the Spirit occurs in our relationships with them. When we feel we must always be in control of everything which is happening or what others are doing, or always be the strong one who has it all together—this grieves the Spirit, and strains our relationships. And it’s just not living or walking in the truth.
Can you or I, or anyone else for that matter, keep ourselves safe in every situation? Do we have to make sure everything is done perfectly, so nothing bad will happen? How many things like this do we take on, thinking somehow we are capable of controlling the outcome? How often do we play God? I’m learning I do this more often than probably I would ever want to admit.
So once again, I am moved to the place where I am grateful for God’s grace, in the gift of his Son, and the gift of his Spirit. God’s mystery at work in me and in my life reminds me the best place I can possibly be is the place where I recognize my weakness, my powerlessness, and my inability to control the outcome.
It is when I acknowledge this and turn to Christ, and open myself to the Spirit’s presence and power, God goes to work and begins to do new things in me and in my life and ministry. It’s on his terms, in his timing, and in his way—it’s a walk of faith. But this is the only place I want to be, because I’m moving in step with the Father, Son, and Spirit in the midst of the divine dance, and it’s such an adventure!
Thank you, Abba, for including each of us in your divine dance, for sweeping us up into your life and love. We are utterly dependent upon you for all things, and confess our weakness and need, our inability to be what we ought to be and so to do what we ought apart from you. We pour ourselves out so you may fill us anew, Holy Spirit, and finish what you have begun in us, through Jesus and in his name. Amen.
“And He has said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.’ Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong.” 2 Corinthians 12:9–10