Today's Sermon

 

"After Doubt"

 

After Doubt

            Last Sunday afternoon before the Westminster Event, I took a walk out by the water.  I came upon a woman who had her camera phone out, but it was only when rounding the corner that I saw what she was capturing – a mother duck and her ducklings in tow, such tiny little things.  What courage we have to go out into the world?  Do you feel that courage?

            Maybe my mind was attuned to the courage to brave waters because I was already thinking of today’s sermon text from Matthew.  In it Jesus brings his disciples out onto the water and offers a greater invitation still to Peter.  Listen…

Matthew 14:22-31a
            22 Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. 23And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, 24but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. 25And early in the morning he came walking towards them on the lake. 26But when the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified, saying, ‘It is a ghost!’ And they cried out in fear. 27But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’

            28 Peter answered him, ‘Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.’ 29He said, ‘Come.’ So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came towards Jesus. 30But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’ 31Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, ‘You of little faith, why did you doubt?’

            On the surface, it’s feels like an unfair question.  I doubted because I’ve never walked on water before, and it’s not something you see every day.  I doubted because everyone was watching.  Look, I doubted because my faith isn’t as rock-solid as yours, Jesus. Peter’s name, of course, means rock, as in “on this rock I will build my church,” (Mt. 16:18).  Here it’s more sinking like a rock.  Maybe we can relate to his doubt.

            What is there after doubt?  Brian McLaren, Christian author who has written widely about the evolution of his own faith in his books, tells this story in his book titled After Doubt:

A few years ago…I was speaking at a Christian college in the Midwest. In the Q & R, a man who looked at least twice as old as the students was the first to the mic and asked, very aggressively, “Who do you think you are to make up your own doctrines and create your own version of Christianity? Why don’t you just admit you’re a heretic and stop calling yourself Christian?” 

I tried to respond as gently as possible, but he didn’t appear at all satisfied. To my surprise, when the lecture was over, this same fellow came up to me and said, “I’d like your email address. I’d like to be in touch with you.”

As a rule I never give out my email address, especially to pushy or aggressive people who are going to send me a barrage of emails with lots of Bible verses and CAPITAL LETTERS warning me of HELL and DAMNATION.  I usually tell people they can reach me through my website, and very few go through the effort to do so. Frankly, because of his aggressiveness, I was worried  he’d find my contact information and distribute it to others who would join him in a coordinated barrage, because that sort of thing had happened to me before. But I felt a little nudge somewhere in my heart telling me to take a risk on this fellow. So I scribbled my email address on a piece of paper and gave it to him.

The next morning, this email was waiting in my inbox: Thanks for answering my question last night. Sorry if I was rude. I have one more question. What do you say to a pastor who is losing his faith? I am that pastor. It’s often the case that the people who attack and argue most loudly are doing so to convince themselves.[1]       

            If a pastor can lose their faith, maybe there’s no hope…or maybe if Jesus can build the church on Peter, there’s hope for all of us.  In fact, look at what came after doubt for that pastor in that exchange.  First, lashing out.  As we’ve seen, accusation is often confession.  After the lashing out, however, came a beautiful process of reaching out.  “I’d like to be in touch with you.”  Then came the, “Sorry,” honest owning of behavior.  Then curiosity, “What do you say to a pastor who is losing his faith?” Then vulnerability.  “I’m that pastor.”   After doubt comes honesty and courage.  After doubt comes a recognition of interdependence.  After doubt comes connection, and if faith is trust, then a faith of sorts. 

            And look in our story, look what comes for Peter’s.  He’s greeted by Jesus’ outstretched hand. Holding the hand of God is a pretty great consolation prize for not being able to walk on water.  Maybe it’s preferable.  We seem to want to make the goal of life to become a superhero, but what if it’s just being super connected?  What comes after doubt?  The chance to be reached by God in love and the chance to reach others in kind?  Doubt can open up this beautiful space between us.

            Ultimately that’s what we’re after, isn’t it, beautiful connections, the experience of being cared for and caring about others?  Isn’t what we’re after the ability to face rough waters? As we mentioned last week, we are doing a mini-sermon series on change.  Last Sunday we talked about how change is mysterious and difficult, and that it needs to be communal not just personal.  Today we’re saying positive changes come not through your invincibility, but through your recognition of your fragility and need.  In fact, some of the greatest changes made were made after failing circumstances required them.  The difference is some are able to rise to the occasion and open to something greater. That’s a kind of expression of faith as well, one built on the trust of possibility.

            It takes courage to open yourself to that change rather than closing yourself off which will ultimately lead to sinking.  The best way to do that?  Stay close to God.  We believe God wants to be close.  We’re about to celebrate communion.  In the sacrament of communion Jesus says to us I will be as close to you as what you eat and what you drink, and I will be that sustaining.  Stay close.  We’re in this time after Easter, when the resurrection happens, and the ascension, when Jesus goes up to heaven.  It’s this gracious interim period when the risen one stays around to get people used to him being gone.  He’s teaching them how to recognize him in the world.  Stay close.  Tend that closeness as much as you would any other.  Spend time with God.  Spend 1/10^thas much time with God as you do your phone and watch your life change.  You find God in nature, you better get there every day.  You have a devotional practice each morning, a little coffee, a Bible verse, journaling, 5 minutes of quiet, make it inviolable.  If you don’t want to drown, accept the outreached hand.

            What struck me about those little ducklings was not just how cute they were, nor even how brave they were, though both were true.  What struck me is how good their instincts were. They stayed so close to their mother. She would turn and they would be right up under her wing.  Nothing could come between her and them.  They know they can’t face the waters without her, so why would they try?   Why would we? 

            Amen.    

[1]Brian D. McLaren, Faith After Doubt: When Your Beliefs Stopped Working and What to Do About It, kindle edition.