Matthew 14:22-33 NRSV

On Wednesday morning, I got a big surprise in the church office. Carrie said: “Jarrett, someone is out here to see you. They didn’t tell me who they were. They said they wanted to surprise you.”

Having no idea who was standing before me, I responded the way I suppose most of us would respond: “Oh, it is so good to see you!”  I then shook the young man’s hand who said, “I told Dad that you would not know who we are, after all, it’s been like thirty-seven years since you saw my Dad!”

I shook my head as if to say, “Of course I remember you!” Embarrassed to admit that I really did not have a clue, I began to ask questions: “What are you doing here? Do you live here?” He went on to explain how he was visiting family in town after attending a funeral and that he was still living in Maryland.

Not wanting to confess that I still had no idea who these folks were, I kept asking questions: “How long have you lived in Maryland?” All the while thinking to myself, “Say something, anything, that will help me to recognize you!”

Eventually, he gave enough clues that I finally recognized him! It was David Brooks! In 1986, he was in the youth group the summer I was serving for the first time on a church staff as a youth director! His father was the pastor of the church, and the very first person who encouraged me to consider that God may be calling me to be a pastor!

This wonderful encounter prompted me to ask a serious question as I studied our gospel lesson for today’s sermon. I wonder how many of us would recognize Jesus if Jesus miraculously showed up? How would we know that it is Jesus who is standing in our midst, calling out to us? If we do not recognize him at first, what questions would we have to ask and what clues would he have to give for it to suddenly dawn on us that it is indeed our Lord.

Now I know it’s hard to believe that we would not recognize Jesus if he came to us, but this morning, we read where Peter, one of Jesus’ most prominent disciples, doesn’t seem to recognize Jesus when he comes to him and the other disciples in the middle of a raging storm.

“Lord, if it is you…”

Strange, isn’t it?

“Lord, if it is you…”

It’s strange because we would like to think that if we were in that boat, we would have certainly recognized him, especially if he came walking out to us on some angry waves.

Because that is exactly how we like to picture Jesus. He is the one who comes to us during the storm. He is the one who comes to us when our world turns dark, when the winds of life are against us, when the waves of life are crashing down upon us.

His is the presence that calms our fears, quiets our anxiety, dispels our despair, soothes our souls.

Jesus speaks familiar, comforting words to Peter and the disciples, “Take heart, it is I, do not be afraid.”

We know the sound of that voice. We recognize those words—the voice of the good shepherd coming to rescue his flock from danger.

But here’s the thing: It is after Jesus speaks those familiar, assuring words, Peter still doesn’t seem convinced that it is Jesus, asking, “Lord, if it is you…”

So, how will Peter know? How will Peter recognize that it is Jesus standing before him and not some made-up ghost of his imagination? What clues does Jesus have to give Peter for Peter to know that he is indeed Jesus his Lord?

Are you ready?

“Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”

What? Is Peter serious?

I wonder why Peter didn’t say: “If it is you, calm this storm.” “If it is you, climb up in this boat with us and hold us, protect us, and take care of us.”  “If it is you, give us some peace.” “If it is you, comfort us and assure us that everything’s gonna be alright.”

After all, isn’t this how we recognize Jesus? “Jesus, if it is you, come into our church and hold our hands.” “Come and tell us that the storm will be soon be over.” “Come and assure us that somehow, someway, some day everything’s gonna be alright and all we have to do is trust in you.”

For that’s how we recognize Jesus. Right?

But that’s not how Peter recognizes Jesus.

Peter says: “Jesus, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”

“Jesus, if it is you, command me to risk my life. Jesus, if it is you, command me to get up and get out of this boat and venture into a dark world.”[1]

“Lord, if it is you, command me to put it all on the line. Lord, if it is you, command me to walk into the storm, face the waves, brave the wind, and take on the night.”

It is as if Peter cannot recognize Jesus unless this voice commands him to literally throw caution into the wind and risk everything. Peter cannot recognize Jesus unless Jesus calls him to do something dangerous, something selfless, something sacrificial, something many in the world would consider to be foolish.

“Lord, if it is you, call out to me like you did that day when I heard your voice for the very first time, that day I was minding my own business, that day I was there standing in my own little world by the lake with my brother Andrew with a fishing net in my hand. Command me to drop my net, drop everything, leave my family, leave my job, and all forms of security to venture forth with you on a risky journey called discipleship.”

“Call out to me like you did that day when you sent me out into the world to proclaim that good news had come for the poor and the oppressed for the kingdom of heaven had come near. Call out to me like you did on that day you commanded me to do risky, demanding, world-changing things like healing the sick, raising the dead, restoring lepers back into the community and casting out the demonic forces of evil.”

“Lord, if it is you, warn me again about certain persecution I will face if I follow you. Tell me again about the trials I will face, the great tribulation I will endure. Lord if it is you, command me to love all people, although doing so will certainly upset some of my friends and family members. Jesus if it is you, remind me that if I love, live and serve like you that there will always be people, most likely religious people, that will try to stop me. Say something that will remind me that if I follow your voice, there will be a cross involved, as the powers-that-be will try to silence that voice.”

“Lord, if it is you, command me to get out of this pew, (I mean this boat). No, I mean these pews, to walk courageously into the darkness. Lead us to be the church beyond these four walls, and then, Jesus, and only then, we will recognize you.”

“Command us to stand up to racism, sexism, ableism, xenophobia, homophobia and transphobia. Command us to pray for the enemies of the beautiful diversity of humanity created in the image of God. Command us to confront the hate and darkness in our world with love and light knowing that only love can drive out hate and only light can overcome the darkness.”[2]

“Lord, if it is you, command us to do something that seems impossible. Command us to build a community where all people have access to affordable housing, fair living wages, equitable education and available healthcare.”

“Oh Jesus, we know it’s not going to be easy. At times, we will be afraid. For walking with you like this will not be something that comes naturally for us. We don’t like taking risks, so of course we’ll have our doubts. We may even have moments when we will take our eyes off you and think only about saving ourselves. We will make mistakes.”

“But Lord, we trust in your grace, and we know your grace will never forsake us.”

Several chapters later, we read Jesus reminding Peter and the rest of his disciples: “Do you want to see me? Do you want to recognize me?  Do you want to encounter me? Do you want to know me? Then feed the hungry. And it will be like you are feeding me.

Give drink to the thirsty. Clothe the naked. Visit those who are imprisoned, and you will be doing it to me.

This is how you will recognize me:

When you do it to the least of these; when you deny yourself; when you empty yourself; when you throw caution into the wind; when you give yourself away, when you do something that others consider to be unnatural and impossible; when you truly love your neighbor as yourself; when you forgive seventy times seven; when you stand up for the dignity, the worth and the rights of the those who are marginalized, even by some of your friends, even your so-called Christian friends; when you make it clear, to even members of your own family, that your faith will no longer allow you to tolerate hate; when you make a commitment to live modestly so you can give generously in a world that worships wealth; when you pray and work for peace in a world that only responds to threats of. violence; when you do these things… there I will be.”

My fear is that the church has watered down the gospel for its own comfort. And by diluting who the Christ commands us to be, by making him up to be some ghost of our own imagination, when people come to church looking for Jesus, he’s nowhere to be found.

We have made church more about security and salvation and less about self-denial and sacrifice; more about receiving a blessing and less about being a blessing; more about affirming what is culturally acceptable and less about doing what is biblically mandated; more about keeping account of the sins of our neighbors and less about loving our neighbors; more about ignoring evil and less about confronting evil, calling evil by name, exorcising evil; more about worshiping Jesus and less about following Jesus; more about dying and going to heaven one day and less about living for Jesus and going to those places Jesus calls us to go today, places we may not want to go—dark, dangerous, dreadful places.[3]

Do you want to see him? Do you want to recognize his voice? Perhaps, more importantly, do you want others to see Jesus through our church? Then, let us embrace the authentic good news, the gospel of Jesus Christ in all of its fullness, all of its delight, and all of its demand.

For the storms are raging. Winds of hate are howling. Waves of violence have been emboldened. Each day, our world seems to grow darker.

And he’s coming toward us. Do you see him? Do you recognize his voice? He calls out to us with words that both comfort and challenge, words that calm and command.

[1] This point inspired by a sermon by William Willimon, How Will You Know if it is Jesus? August 2005.

[2] Words of Martin Luther King, Jr.

[3] This line is from the writings of Henri J. M. Nouwen