Sermon - 10th Sunday After Pentecost (8/9/2020)

1 Kgs. 19:9-18; Ps. 85:8-13; Rom. 10:5-15; Mt. 14:22-33

After Jesus fed the five thousand, as we read in last Sunday’s gospel, Jesus sent the disciples home. You remember that it had just been announced that John the Baptist had been executed by King Herod. Jesus had wanted some time alone to pray and think about this news, but the crowds followed him. The disciples had wanted to send the crowd home, but Jesus told them to give the crowd something to eat themselves, and something astonishing happened. Then Jesus sent the disciples home. I’ll finish up with the crowd here, you take the boat back yourselves.

And so it was 4:00 in the morning. The boat was still far from land, the boat was being battered by the waves, because the wind was against them. I know nothing about sailing, but I’m told it’s possible to sail against the wind, but it’s very difficult, it’s a lot of work, it takes a long time and a lot of concentration. Sort of like driving in a snowstorm, which is something I have done before – difficult, possibly dangerous, especially when you’re tired, but you do it just trying to get home.

The disciples alone in a boat. 4:00 in the morning, far from land, and the wind was against them. If that’s not a metaphor for the time we are living through, I don’t know what is. It’s as dark as it gets, we’re tired, we still have a long way to go, the wind is against us, the ride is anything but smooth.  The text calls for a sermon that is kind of obvious. And I will go there in a minute. But first I’d like to pause for a moment on the first reading that is paired with our gospel passage today, because it has a message for us that is perhaps even more essential for us, given where we are right now.

The prophet Elijah lived in dark days too. The king preferred the worship of the Canaanite god Baal to the worship of the God of Israel, and many followed. Baal ruled by violence and fear, which the king and the ruling elite found suitable to them, much more than the God who made a covenant with Israel, gave them freedom and a rich land but also a Law that demanded justice and love of neighbor. The followers of the God of Israel, like Elijah, felt lonely, isolated, persecuted.

So Elijah organized a competition at a place called Mount Carmel. He and the prophets of Baal will each sacrifice a bull, place it on an altar, and call upon their god to come with fire and receive the sacrifice – whichever god answers with fire will be the real god. The prophets of Baal go first, they pray and chant and slash themselves with swords in their rituals, but no fire. Elijah mocks them without mercy: Call louder! Maybe Baal is in the bathroom doing Number Two! Then it’s Elijah’s turn, the fire comes, the crowd says Wow! The God of Israel is indeed the true God.

And Elijah turns to the crowd on Mount Carmel that has just witnessed a miracle – and says: You see! Just as I told you! Those prophets of Baal are fake news. Let’s get them! And in the excitement of the moment, the Bible says, the crowd rose up, and four hundred and fifty of the prophets of Baal were killed.  Four hundred and fifty.  Needless to say, the king was not amused, so Elijah flees for his life.

With nowhere else to turn, Elijah goes back to the beginning – to Mount Horeb, also known as Mount Sinai, where God first made the covenant with Israel, with Moses, where the Law and the Commandments were given, where Moses hid in the rock and with his own eyes saw God passing by.  This is where Elijah has gone, as our reading from 1 Kings 19 begins today.  He had expected it would be his great moment of triumph and reward for doing God’s work; instead he was hiding in a cave, frightened, alone, trying desperately to connect with how God had once been seen in the past, hoping to see God again.

And a voice says to him: Elijah, what are you doing here? Elijah has a speech rehearsed: I have been zealous doing God’s work. Everyone else has rejected you, Lord, I’m the only one left, and now they’re after me. So Elijah goes to the place where Moses saw God pass by amidst great signs and wonders, and Elijah waits there for God. And there was a powerful wind, but God was not in the wind. Then there was an earthquake, but God was not in the earthquake. And then there was fire, but God was not to be found in the fire.  God was in the fire Elijah called down on Mount Carmel, perhaps, but not this time.

And then a sound of sheer silence. Elijah hides his face, and again there is the voice: Elijah, what are you doing here? Elijah rehearses the exact same speech as before: Everyone else has rejected you, Lord, I’m the only one left, and now they’re after me.  And God barely even responds to Elijah’s speech. It’s a remarkable anti-climax to a dramatic story. I do have some things for you to do, Elijah, God says, a couple of royal transitions to oversee, and I have someone in mind for your successor. Oh, and did I mention that I have seven thousand people who are faithful to me. Ha! And you thought you were the only one.

What are you doing here, Elijah?  Elijah was looking for something else in going to the mountain of God. Reassurance, perhaps, that he had in fact been doing God’s work in fighting the prophets of the false god, but he didn’t get any word of thanks or commendation from God – to the contrary, the tasks God assigned him were mundane, administrative jobs. A reward for being the last one faithful to the covenant when everyone else had abandoned it? Instead God tells Elijah he’s not as special as he thought.  And so Elijah comes to learn that God is not in competition with Baal at all, and never was. That God is not looking for a heroic martyr, but simply a faithful witness.

The Bible is full of stories where God acts dramatically, even miraculously. In ways that make for good movies – the crossing of the Red Sea, fire called down from heaven, five thousand fed with a few loaves of bread. But every single time, just when people think they’re about to see another miracle, another wonder, wind and fire and earthquake, that’s when the Bible tells us about people learnd the hard lesson that God is not found where we thought God would show up. God shows up in a way that is more quiet, less dramatic, less like a holy war and more like a cross.

The disciples of Jesus had just participated in a miracle at dinnertime, and now it’s 4:00 in the morning and they’re in a boat, far from Jesus, far from shore, and the wind is against them. Perhaps, like Elijah, they thought they were going to get a reward for their efforts. Perhaps, like Elijah, they were looking forward to what a fired-up crowd that had just witnessed a miracle would do – to avenge the murder of John the Baptist, perhaps, or maybe even to reestablish God’s kingdom on earth. Instead Jesus sends them away, exhausted, stressed out, and the wind was against them.

There was indeed a powerful wind that night, but God was not in the wind. At first God was nowhere to be seen, but then suddenly Jesus came to them in the middle of the lake.  I suppose Jesus finally got the quiet time he needed, and now Jesus comes to them, not in opposition to the wind and the waves but somehow impervious to them, somehow above the chaos and the tumult of the waters.  The turmoil that had engulfed the disciples did not seem to affect Jesus, who seemed just as calm and quiet as the voice of the Lord who responded to the frantic Elijah.

Then Peter asked Jesus if he, Peter, could like Jesus rise above the turmoil and the waves. Jesus didn’t ask Peter to do that, it was all Peter’s idea. But Jesus says, Sure, come on, and as long as Peter focuses on Jesus it actually works. The text says, when he thought about the wind, how the wind was against him, that’s when he faltered. But as we read from Paul a couple weeks ago, if God is for us, who can be against us?  And when Jesus picks Peter up and joined the disciples in the boat, the wind was no longer against them.

And what about us? When we are exhausted and stressed, far from land and with the wind against us, what are we supposed to do? I’m sure the disciples didn’t expect Jesus to come to them walking across the water – and I won’t predict how Jesus will try to come to us. But I am fairly sure that Jesus will not be consumed by the tumult of the waves around us, Jesus will not be bothered by the turmoil within our hearts, Jesus will not be brushed back by the wind that seems to be against us. Like the disciples, like Elijah, I’m fairly sure we will be surprised by how Jesus shows up, by what Jesus asks of us, and does not ask of us. But if God is for us, what can possibly be truly, ultimately, finally against us?