Holy Ghost Stories, part 4

Holy Ghost Stories 4:  Seeing Ghosts                                                             

Matthew 14:22-33

Today is the fourth and final Sunday in our “Holy Ghost Stories” sermon series.  This month we have taken time to encounter the Holy Ghost as we know it today (from the Day of Pentecost, when the Spirit came to dwell with us, even though the existence of the Holy Ghost can be found in the creation story, when God said (paraphrased) let Us make humankind in Our image and Our likeness…”Us” and “Our” being the Triune God (Father, Spirit, Son)).  From this encounter we moved into wrestling with the Holy Ghost, like Jacob, and how that can permanently change us…and rightfully should!  Last week we talked about hearing voices, and the voice Samuel heard as a boy when he was called by God.  A boy without qualifications, a boy without training, a boy who met none of man’s criteria…who was called out by God who spoke to him in his sleep.  Today’s sermon will focus on seeing ghosts.

Just to catch us up and frame where this morning’s story is in Matthean Gospel text, Jesus has just fed the crowd of about 5,000 men, plus women and children, who had followed him to hear him speak.  After this miracle, Jesus needed a little time  away…to recharge, to rest, and to pray (and if you’re into the Enneagram, you know this is a solid “6” move).  So he sends (he “makes” per Matthew) the disciples on to the other side of the Sea of Galilee.  This is the first time in Matthew that Jesus has sent the disciples out without him. 

The sun has set and evening has come, and there are a couple of problems.  The first one being that Jesus isn’t with them…and it’s not like he can just call an Uber Fishing Boat to carry him to the other side.  How is he going to catch back up with the disciples and rejoin them?  But, the bigger problem is the storm that had suddenly blown up.  This sounds like a pretty substantial storm, being that we are told that the boat has been battered by the wind.  Then, hours later, early in the morning, they see something out at sea. 

Let’s think about this for a minute and put ourselves in the story.  They were traveling, and all of the sudden this large crowd of people show up.  And it’s lunch time.  And there’s nothing to feed them.  They beg Jesus to send the crowd away, but Jesus doesn’t, instead taking a meager sack lunch and feeding the entire crowd, with leftovers.  Jesus spends his time with the people preaching and teaching.  By the time the disciples get in the boat, they have to be exhausted.  But instead of being able to rest on the trip across the Sea of Galilee, a brutal storm comes up and they spend the night fighting to steer against the wind, simply trying to survive.  So they’re soaking wet, they’re tired, they’re frustrated because their leader is nowhere to be found…and now they’re seeing something on the water.  So what do they do when they spot this figure?  They immediately discover that the silhouette they see is that of a man, and it’s walking toward them, on the water. 

There really isn’t any other explanation other than…it MUST be a ghost!  This is where I can’t relate to these cold, wet, and exhausted disciples any longer, because I’ve never been in a situation where “it’s a ghost” is actually the most logical explanation.  I’m a science guy…I’ve devoted my entire adult life to the tenants of testing and proof; hypothesis and theory.  “It’s a ghost” isn’t one of those things.  And in this case, that logic still applies, because it actually wasn’t a ghost, but Jesus, walking toward them.  The modern thinker (us as Western people) typically focus now on the defiance of the laws of gravity.  Water is not a solid…it cannot support a grown man on its surface.  This isn’t possible is what we focus on and tell ourselves.  But if we stop and actually examine this text (as we do as Wesleyan people) we begin to understand the cultural context necessary to understand what the words here are straining to express to us.  When we do this, we see that the words are expressing not the impossible feat of walking on water, but the fact that walking on meant conquering, and the sea in this instance actually stands for chaos, both supported by the Greek Lexicon in this passage. 

This, then, presents a paradigm shift to the modern day reader, doesn’t it?  So now, instead of the “ghost” image we have focused on, we start to see someone who brings order to the chaos…someone who calms the surrounding storm by conquering and ruling over it, removing it’s threat and it’s power.  So through this new lens of understanding, looking ahead at Peter’s experience should represent something totally different to us.

So after someone yelled “it’s a ghost”, Jesus responds to let them know that it’s him the see.  But, Peter called out and said if it really is you Lord, then let me come to you.  Jesus says come on then, and Peter steps out of the boat, out of his place of safety, and into the chaos.  We know that Peter started to fall when he noticed the storm, the chaos, that surrounded him.  He cried out and the Lord saved him, asking him why he doubted. 

So…show of hands if your life has even been consumed by chaos; now, keep them up if your life is consumed by chaos right now.  I could easily throw up both hands and a leg to that one.  I had an employee once share an assessment with me; she used to laugh because she said I ate stress and chaos for breakfast (and, she’s not exactly wrong).  Chaos is a part of life and we all experience it at one point or another.  Sometimes it’s chaos that we can control; we can to a point govern our exposure to it, and there are pretty simple ways for us to mitigate the impact.  But if your life is like mine, those are, indeed, rare times.  The type of chaos I experience is like that of the disciples in today’s text; it comes from an external force, I have absolutely no control over it, it seemingly has no rhyme or reason, and it leaves me battered and sometimes even in places I’m not so sure I can recover from.  It’s from family situations that escalate out of control, or from people (be it friends or enemies) who have decided to mount an attack and have pointed their weapons directly at me, or even chaos from the Spiritual front.  No matter the origin, it’s something we all have to weather at some point in our lives.  And it’s not any fun at all. 

We are more like Peter than we even realize; or, I am, at least.  When I find myself in the middle of this chaos, more times than not I’ll look around and suddenly be consumed by the gravity of the situation surrounding me and then it happens; I begin to fall.  I succumb to the pressure, and the negativity, and the disorientation and become convinced that this will never end, and I cannot understand why nor do I have the ability or skill to overcome it.  I begin strategizing, and overthinking, and I begin to wallow in pity over my situation.  I formulate a way to accept defeat and move on with this new normal in my new destroyed life. 

Does anyone notice a pattern emerging from the previous statements?  There’s a lot of I’s and Me’s in there.  Like Peter, I allow the periphery of my vision to become the focus.  My pain and struggling force me to focus on me, and not on the one who calls me amidst the chaos.  I direct my attention to those who have decided to expose my life to this chaos and direct its evil into my path, and stop focusing on the one who can clear the way for the journey.  And I know I’m not the only one here that falls prey to this!  I think it’s simply human nature.  I don’t think we can help it.  And when I stop, and really think about that, the deeper I begin to fall into the very thing that began pulling me down in the first place. 

But there is some good news for us this morning, and it’s this:  Jesus knew Peter would allow the chaos to consume him, and he stuck his hand out and caught him anyway.  And Jesus, knowing that you, and I, and all of us will do the very same thing…we will see him, and we will try our hardest, but try as we might to focus on him, we will allow all the other “stuff” to steal the center of our vision, and when we begin to fall he will reach his hand out and catch us every single time.  And if you’ve ever needed a working definition for grace, it would be exactly that.

Can you recall a time when God saved your life?  When God reached out and caught you and together you weathered the storm?  When God is made known to us in this way it can leaving us feeling awestruck, or even fear.  There can be continued questions of worthiness.  It’s a rattling experience, and one that we tend to overthink with great fervor. 

Our story this morning ends with Peter and the disciples proclaiming and worshiping Christ as “truly the Son of God”.  Should we not do the same?  Should we not stop, exactly where we are, and proclaim that the one who saves us is truly the Son of God?  I think we should; I think we must.

As our musicians come and we prepare to sing our hymn of invitation, I want to you to take a moment and reflect on your life right now.  Are you experiencing chaos?  Have you stopped to look through the storm clouds, to look for the hand of your Savior, simply waiting on you to take it and steady yourself?