In the Boat

 I keep thinking about last Sunday's Gospel (Matthew 14:22-33).  There's just so much in this story.  It's easy to make it into a simple point:  Get out of the boat!  Trust Jesus!  But going to "the point" cuts out so much that's worth pondering.

Why does Jesus send the disciples on ahead?  There's no one answer.  Today I'm going with: the whole thing is an experiment, for them to see what life is like without him.  They set off, and things get hard: the wind blows against them.  They row harder.  It's not working.  At this point they're not afraid; they're just tired and stressed.

Then Jesus comes strolling along.  He's not struggling.  He's cruising.  Now they're afraid: this makes no sense.  Is that a ghost?  He says no, it's me.  Peter isn't sure, but he's willing to be convinced: if it's you, command me to do what you're doing.

Now, I love this moment.  It sounds like a test, and in a way it is, but if Peter didn't already believe somehow he wouldn't risk meeting the challenge.  A demon could command him to get out of the boat, and he'd be fish food.  But when Jesus says "Come," he does.  He already believes that this is Jesus, albeit doing things he's never seen him do.  He doesn't follow perfectly, but he does follow.  He gets to experience walking on water.  I bet he remembers this after Jesus has left.

The other disciples don't even try to get out of the boat.  They, not Peter, are the ones of "little faith."  They'd rather stay in their boat than risk following Jesus in this crazy way.  Row, row, row.  Keep trying.  Do what makes sense.

The other night I dreamed I was driving a truck.  It was older, beaten up, but functional.  I turned onto a road that got really bad quite quickly, but I trusted the truck, and I trusted my ability to drive the truck through this bad spot.  But suddenly the road ended, washed out.  Before me was a pool, almost a pond. There was no way forward for the truck, or for me, unless I swam.  I tried to back out, and the front of the truck - the drive mechanism, the engine - came off and stayed stuck in the mud.  I knew I'd have to walk back out.  That's where the dream ended.

Truck.  Boat.  It's the same thing.  I think I can drive this puppy, I can handle the rough road on my own with my old familiar tools.  But I'm ignoring the signs telling me this road is a mess.  I pass two people who watch me go by.  For all I know they could have helped me, but I'm certain I can do this.  I'm in my boat/truck: I've got this!  Until I don't.

For me this week, Matthew is talking about the contrast between rowing on my own and walking with Jesus.  Jesus knows the easier, softer way.  It involves a lot of prayer, a close connection to God.  Both ways involve effort, but in the end Jesus' way works when mine doesn't.

Now I'm walking back out to a more open, stable place, and asking God to direct me.  Show me where to go, and how.  I will do my best to listen and follow.  How about you?

Come, Let us Sing to our God!

 

Holy Currents

I'm reading Eric Law's book, Holy Currencies, while attending the Kaleidoscope Institute annual conference (via Zoom, of course).  When I read the daily office reading from Acts yesterday (3:-1-11), I was reminded of what he says about currencies.

Law explains that the idea of money as "currency" originated about 400 years ago.  The word derives from  "current," and the reason for the name is that, like water, money only helps when it flows.  Money is not to be hoarded, but to be passed along.  If it doesn't flow, it begins to stagnate and rot.

Seen in this way, Law argues that money is only one of many "currencies" that enrich and sustain people.  Just as important are things like relationships, truth, wellness.  These flow like money; they too are currencies.  We may lack some of them, but we can build on those we do have.

In the reading, Peter and John are walking toward the temple when they meet a lame man who asks them for alms.  Peter and John "looked intently at him" and Peter said, "I have no silver or gold, but what I have I give you; in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, stand up and walk."  And the man stands up and walks, and leaps, and praises God.

In his condition, the only thing the lame man can imagine that might help him is money.  He has people who lay him at the gate so he can beg, but apparently no one who can or will support him so he need not.  He asks for the only currency he can expect.  Peter and John, however, have received the Holy Spirit.  And, like money, it cries out to be shared.  It manifests here as the capacity for wellness, for healing.  Rather than turning away and saying, "I can't help," they give what they have - which turns out to be so much more than any money they might have given!

So I'm thinking about the Holy Spirit, and all the ways she flows for the health of the body of Christ.  I'm wondering about what currencies I have, and what I can share and give away.  I think language is one of mine, so I'm trying to share with you.  That's bound up with relationships - even with those of you I don't know, don't correspond with.  I'm offering what I have received.  But where else can I enter the circuit of gift?  Where do you, can you, will you?

Go, be a blessing.  You will receive more than you can imagine.