1 Kings 19.9-18 Matthew 14.22-33
The Ninth Sunday after Trinity, 9th August 2020
Keasden, Austwick - and online
When the disciples saw Jesus walking towards them on the lake,
they were terrified, saying, 'It is a ghost!'
Once, on a primary school visit to a church one girl asked me, 'Has this church got a ghost?'
Why did she ask that question? Did she think that all churches are scary, ancient buildings surrounded by gloomy old gravestones, the sort of places where ghosts and ghouls feature in popular fiction or in stories passed around the schoolyard and the family home? Perhaps she’d heard about the Black Canon of Bolton Abbey whose restless soul stalks the ruins in his dark cassock, cloak and hat. Or the ghostly choir who people have heard chanting in the abandoned Chapel of Nine Altars at Fountains Abbey. [1] Maybe the girl’s question was prompted by those memorial stones surrounding her on the church walls, commemorating people who used to walk that place - and maybe, in her imagination, still do. These might be friendly ghosts - of benefactors, of beloved clerics, for instance. But still, ghosts.
Church is so familiar to us that we may find it hard to comprehend how others could be frightened of it. But that fear is real for many people: whether it’s fear of ghostly presences, or some other form of fear based on the the way that some people have been hurt or mistreated by Christians - ex-pupils of church schools who experienced brutal discipline; divorcees frozen out of their congregations for failing to uphold marriage; and so on. I sense that the fear of the Church has increased since light began to be shone on the many shameful abuses of children - and adults - previously hidden and held painfully by the victims alone; worsened by revelations of how many of these abuses were deliberately covered up. I sense parents distancing themselves and their children from church to protect them from us.
This is sadder still when we accept that so much of the Church’s abusive behaviour over the centuries has been justified by its theology, by Christian teaching that God is a distant, all-powerful force to be feared. Whose obsession is with judgement and who is waiting for the opportunity to punish us for our sins. Sobering to think that so many memorial chapels were erected by families fearful of the eternal destiny of their deceased ones, seeking to pay their way into heavenly favour.
I felt the pain of this at Betty Woodburn’s funeral service on Monday as I committed her gentle, loving Christian soul to God using the words, “The Lord is tender to those that fear him”. That phrase could have been translated as ‘love him’ or ‘worship him’, but we’ve settled on ‘fear’. Why has Christianity been so focussed on fear? No wonder children may be spooked by it.
Fear features prominently in today’s miracle story - of when Jesus walked across the water towards Peter and the others in their boat. There’s their existential fear when their boat was being battered by the waves, far from the land, with the wind against them. And then there’s their terror of that apparition of a figure emerging through the spray, walking towards them on the lake. No wonder the disciples, seeing this, were terrified, saying, ‘It is a ghost!’
Did Jesus intend to generate fear in them? Had he earlier abandoned them just so that they could feel the fear of the storm? Had he chosen to reappear in such an unnerving way to strike the fear of God into their hearts? The gospel suggests not, for Matthew reports that, seeing their fear, immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’
This reminds us of something quite new and wonderful which we can see breaking into scripture with Jesus. Amidst all those fearful bible passages, those texts of terror [2], comes Jesus speaking words of peace; in particular the words, ‘do not be afraid’.
Matthew’s gospel begins with an angel appearing to Joseph and saying, ‘do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife’; in the Sermon on the Mount Jesus says, ‘do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows’. ‘Do not be afraid’, said Jesus to his terror-struck disciples on the Mount of the Transfiguration. In the Garden of Gethsemane the angel told the women, ‘Do not be afraid; you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; he has been raised.’ And shortly after, the first words the risen Christ spoke to these trembling friends were, yes, ‘do not be afraid’. [3]
For so long we have been taught that Christianity is a journey towards an angry God who will judge us for our wrongdoings - that life is a pilgrimage of fear. But what we have here, in the gospel, is a different story altogether. Rather than us walking in trepidation towards that terrifying God, what we find is our Jesus walking towards us - who are terrified - to greet us with words of comfort and peace. ‘Do not be afraid’ is Jesus’ signature message. ‘Do not be afraid’ is the first thing he wants us to hear every morning; ‘Do not be afraid’ is what he whispers to us through every change and chance of life; ‘Do not be afraid’ is what he tells us in the eye of every storm.
‘Do not be afraid’ is so, so comforting to hear in this time of the coronavirus. This week I heard a man whose mother died recently, but not of Covid-19, who said, ‘I think she really died of fear. She suffered badly from kidney disease, which made her feel vulnerable to coronavirus, and she was so terrified of getting it that the anxiety killed her.’ And I heard of young men who have taken their own lives through fear of the ruin coming to them having lost their jobs and income. [4]
These are extreme examples of the everyday fears and anxieties we all feel in this deeply disturbing time we’re in. And the background to all this, 75 years this week after the annihilation of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, is our insecurity about the choices our world leaders make on our behalf, to continue to invest in weapons of mass destruction rather than work together to feed us all.
If we’re haunted by the fear of catching this virus, then Jesus walks towards us saying ‘Do not be afraid’.
If the ghosts of our past fill us with trepidation of judgement, then Jesus comes to us saying ‘Do not be afraid’.
If the anxieties of life threaten to overwhelm us, then Jesus approaches us saying ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’
In any given moment when we may feel - like Peter - out of our depth, then Jesus reaches out his hand to catch us, saying ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’
Notes
This talk draws from Jesus: a ghost on the waters? preached in Devon, 2011.
[1] Joseph Sheerin, 10 of the Most Haunted Buildings in Yorkshire. Leeds-List, 28 October 2019.
[2] A phrase borrowed from Phyllis Trible, Texts of Terror: Literary-Feminist Readings of Biblical Narratives.
[3] Bible Gateway, search on "Do not be afraid" in Matthew.
[4] Patrick Cockburn, Short Cuts: Thanington Without. London Review of Books, Vol. 42 No. 15, 30 July 2020.
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