"Knowing Where the Rocks Are" by Rev. Jillian Hankamer, 7/6/2025

A sermon for Northminster Church

            My dad is a college professor and takes great joy in using contemporary language to make his students cringe, or working pop-culture references into his lectures that are just that much too dated to be particularly relevant. He gleefully tells me about students who’ve told him, “Doc, just stop, “ or “Doc, don’t ever say that again,” which I usually echo wholeheartedly. But then I’ve been asking my dad to stop saying such things since I was his student’s age and even younger.

                For as long as I can remember, my dad has made up his own songs or changed the lyrics of other songs, which is followed by him saying, “I made that up.” When I was a kid, he was forever putting his own spin on beloved hymns such as “Love Lifted Me,” which, when he sang it, became “Love Lipton tea.” And of course, nothing is safe from a solid Dad Joke, including this morning’s passage from Matthew, which Dad said was possible because Jesus knew where the rocks were.

                It a corny joke, maybe even a little sacrilegious, but still, the image of a playful Jesus jumping leapfrog style from rock to rock toward the disciples’ boat has stuck with me, and I began to wonder this week if maybe Dad was on to something. Not that Jesus finds a conveniently placed boulder to perch on, to be honest, I neither know nor care about the mechanics of Jesus’ watery stroll, but that Jesus knows Peter well enough to understand Peter’s need to prove his faith. Jesus understands Peter so completely that he’s aware, even if Peter isn’t, of Peter’s internal rocks, his struggles, his shortcomings.

                Coming immediately after the Feeding of the 5,000, Jesus makes the disciples get into a boat while he dismisses the well-fed crowd and spends time in prayer. But unlike the boat story in Matthew 8, in which a terrifying storm blows up and the disciples are terrified and beg a sleeping Jesus to save them, what frightens the disciples in this story is not the waves or wind but Jesus appearing in this inexplicable way. It’s telling that, unlike Matthew 8, Jesus doesn’t rebuke the wind in his story; he just appears. And nothing prepares the disciples, despite their active role in feeding 5,000 people with five loaves and two fish mere hours earlier, for seeing their teacher walking on water.

                Remember, several of these men are fishermen. They’ve spent their lives on the water. They know what’s possible and what isn’t, and a person walking on water isn’t possible. Understandably, the disciples are terrified and think Jesus is a ghost, which makes sense as at this time there was a common perception “of the sea as the locus of evil and chaos.”  And I’m not convinced Jesus’ saying, “Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid,” did much to dispel this fear. Despite his words, Jesus is saying them while standing on water.

                And yet Peter wants to join Jesus, wants to go to Jesus, to which the automatic question is, why? Why does Peter feel he must do this? What compels him to take this risk? What is he trying to prove? Commentator Karoline Lewis proposes the following: “Maybe Peter hopes that by stepping out on the sea, that will be the act of courage he needs for faith. Maybe [he] wonders if he will be convinced of Jesus’ promises if he thinks big. Maybe Peter will believe in himself if he is able to do what Jesus does.”  In his desire to have faith and to prove himself to Jesus, Peter echoes the cry of so many of our hearts in moments of despair and need: “Lord, are you there? “…if it is you…We need to know. How can we really trust that you will be with us always…?”

                Jesus’ response to Peter is simple. He says only, “Come,” belying any doubts in Peter’s ability to reach him or concerns about Peter’s motivation. We will never know what Jesus is thinking, but we do know Peter gets out of the boat and walks to Jesus.  Out across the water, despite the wind and the waves, perhaps motivated by his desire to be close to Jesus but more likely by his need to prove his faith, Peter does what isn’t humanly possible – he walks on water. And he successfully reaches Jesus, is close enough to touch him when he becomes aware of the wind, has the sense to be scared, and starts sinking. In his panic and fear, Peter cries out to Jesus, “Lord, save me.”

                It’s hard to imagine Jesus being surprised by Peter’s fear or alarmed at Peter’s impersonation of a sinking stone. Verse 31 tells us “Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of [Peter]…as if he was fully prepared for this eventuality. As if he knows Peter well enough to know he’ll need saving. Scholars may interpret Jesus’ words, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt” as a harsh rebuke, but they strike me as the words of a loving parent to a child in a moment of crisis. The same words you would speak to a beloved child if they reached out to you in fear.

                Jesus deservedly rebukes the disciples for being dense on several occasions, but I’m not convinced this is one of those times. And if Jesus’ words do hold any rebuke, it’s not because Peter doesn’t have enough faith but because he’s going to such lengths to prove his faith. If Jesus is frustrated with Peter, it’s because he feels the need to be brave and courageous unnecessarily. Keep in mind, Jesus doesn’t ask Peter to step out of the boat and come to him; it’s a choice Peter makes. So if Jesus is disappointed, it’s because Peter didn’t trust himself enough to know that it’s always safe with Christ. Peter’s faith extended to reaching Jesus but not to keeping himself standing alongside Jesus.

                As writer and artist Jan Richardson says about faith,

“…is not something I can summon by sheer act of will…[faith] lives and breathes in the community that encompasses us…I cannot force faith but can ask for it, can pray that it will make its way to me and bear me up over the next wave, and the next…[faith] comes…I can lean into it…it will propel me not only toward the Christ who calls me. But also back toward the boat that holds my life, incomprehensible in both its pain and grace.”

                “Faith means living out of your heart.”  It means leading, loving, and living with your heart, knowing that Christ will always be there. Faith is trusting yourself and the heart God created within you and remembering that “no valiant feat is necessary”  to endear ourselves to Christ because the Good News this morning is that Jesus already knows where all of our rocks are. On second thought, perhaps that’s not some much Good News as it is slightly unsettling news, perhaps even downright scary news. There isn’t anything about you God doesn’t know. There are no corners of yourself you can block off from Christ. Even the worst parts of you that you’re unable to look at head-on are no secret to Jesus. We cannot hide from God because God created us and knows us better than we know ourselves. So why try to waste energy trying? Why put effort into pretending that we are anything other than our most base selves before our Creator, essentially naked for all the good our defenses do us? Now, I certainly don’t mean that we shouldn’t work to be more faithful, loving people. Or that because God knows us at our core that it isn’t necessary to try and be as much like Christ as possible.

                What I do mean is that if you choose to get out of the boat, go because to do otherwise is unthinkable, not to show God the depth of your love. Allow yourself to be uncomfortable, not to prove that you’re willing to suffer for your faith, but to make someone else’s life better. Fight for God’s justice so that God’s love is abundantly shared with all people, not to save someone’s soul. Have faith that you can walk on water because you want to reach the Savior who knows where all your rocks are, not because you feel you have something to prove.

                To conclude, I’d like to share with you the lyrics of a beautiful song I discovered this week. I mentioned the artist and author Jan Richardson to you a moment ago, and this song was written by her late husband, Garrison Doles. Garrison, or Gary, died a few years ago just as he was putting the finishing touches on an album that included this song, “Let Me Out of This Boat.” Here are the lyrics:

                                Let me out of this boat, I’m gonna walk out across that water.

                                I see Jesus is coming, I’m gonna meet him halfway.

                                I’m only a man and I can’t even swim,

                                I’m gonna walk out across that water with my Lord.

                                Let me out of this boat, I want to set my faith in motion.

                                I will not be bound by the limits I have known.

                                Everything is changed and you might think it’s strange,

                                But I’m gonna walk out across that water with my Lord.

                                Courage! Do not be afraid!

                                And every step along the way Jesus says, “Come on Peter!

                                “Courage! O ye of little faith.”

                                “I’m here to save you, you’re gonna make it,”

                                “You’ve got your own miracle going on.”

                                “In the watches of the night

                                when you’re trying to make your way to me,

                                doubts will overtake you, I know the night is dark.

                                But I will always find you before you slip beneath the waves.

                                Come on Peter, lift your head up.

                                Reach out your hand,

                                it is I.”

                                Let me out of this boat, I’m gonna walk across this water.

                                Jesus is calling and that’s enough for me.

                                I don’t know how, but I’m going right now.

                                I’m gonna walk out across that water with my Lord.