Get in the Boat!

When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost,” they said, and cried out in fear. But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid” [Matthew 14:26-27 (NIV)].

One of the harshest phenomena of the COVID-19 pandemic has been its effect on funerals and memorial services. It isn’t enough that the disease has taken more than 160,000 souls in our land (2,076 in North Carolina, 79 in Durham County, at last count); social-distancing rules mean there have been virtually no memorial services for those lost to friends and family. Generally speaking, unless one’s death can be utilized by protesters or politicians, there are no funeral gatherings to speak of. The casket is rather unceremoniously carried to the grave site, not by grieving pallbearers, but by the capable staff of the funeral service. Perhaps a few chairs are set out, but the memorial service is limited to a few minutes, sometimes with a minister offering prayers and words of committal at the head of the casket, sometimes not.

I’m familiar with COVID-19 graveside services because my daily walk takes me through Markham Memorial Gardens (on Trenton Road — just off Farrington) each day and I have witnessed at least half a dozen since mid-March, “when things changed.” Since we moved in early January, with rare exceptions, I’ve been able daily to enjoy the cemetery’s macadam pathway, which circles and gently slopes up and down for slightly more than one-third of a mile, before I continue on down Trenton Road (and back) for my 3.6 mile trek. As I walk the loop of the cemetery, I utter a quick prayer for the families of those who repose in fresh graves within the well-manicured lawn.

Two days ago, I polished off a writing piece and left the house for my walk at about 10:30 a.m. As I took a few steps, I noticed several threatening clouds, but thought/hoped they might blow over. As I entered the gate at Markham Memorial, I saw that a funeral tent had been set up on the south side of the cemetery, just a few grave sites from the paved circle. As I neared the tent a few minutes later, I saw several members of the funeral staff carry the casket and and position it under the tent. I looked at my watch and suspected that the graveside must be set for 11 a.m. I glanced to the space in front of the casket and noticed six folding chairs had been set up for the attendees. I sadly thought to myself, “An entire life lived among friends and family and, because of the virus, there are only half a dozen to hear the pastor’s final words and prayers.

I quickly resumed my walk, my thoughts turning to the Scripture reading that I had assigned to the members of my Carolina Arbors Bible study for today. As I may have mentioned, not knowing when we’ll be able to resume our face-to-face sessions in earnest, we’ve succumbed to the “Zoom revolution,” gathering on Wednesdays at 11 a.m. This week’s lesson is the familiar “Jesus walks on the water/Peter tries to do the same” scenario found in Matthew 14:22-33 [see the Revised Common Lectionary, Proper 14 (19), the Tenth Sunday after Pentecost]. The essential story also is found in Mark [6:45-52] and John [6:15-21]. This is one of the stories that we know so well that we’ve likely forgotten some interesting details.

For example, last week’s lesson was our Lord’s feeding the multitude. We often forget that Jesus had actually gone out into the barren area because he needed to get away from crowds. No sooner had he done so, however, that another crowd appeared. He tended to them and then fed them, as we saw in last week’s reading. The point here: Jesus still needs some “alone” time and so he forced the disciples to get into a small boat and go on ahead, while he dismissed the crowd [14:22]. Scholars note that this is the first time in Matthew’s Gospel that the disciples have been separated from their Lord.

Jesus then journeys up the mountain — as we know, the Bible is replete with “mountain-top” scenes (Moses, Elijah — Jesus, with Moses & Elijah). Matthew carefully indicates the time of day. Jesus is on the mountain as evening comes. Meanwhile, the disciples are in the boat. “By this time” [14:14], that is to say, as evening came, the disciples are being bounced around by wind and wave. They fear death is imminent and their Lord is no where in sight. “Early in the morning” [14:25], by now, they’ve been bouncing around for hours, Jesus comes “walking toward them on the sea.”

Next comes a detail that we often forget: the disciples think the figure “walking” toward them must be a ghost! You see, to a first century Hebrew in Palestine, there is nothing particularly good about a large body of water. It represents primordial chaos. It’s dangerous. It represents loss of human power. Monsters, and apparently, ghosts inhabit deep watery seas. Again, they think to themselves, “Where is Jesus?”

And then, of course, Jesus calmly assures them, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid” [14:27]. Scholars point out that another way to translate the “it is I” is to say, “I am,” the method by which Yahweh self-identifies himself to Moses at the burning bush. For those who think Jesus wasn’t demonstrative enough about his divine nature, they perhaps haven’t considered this passage. To the Hebrew mind, only God can dominate (i.e., walk on) the seas. Jesus has walked on the waters and affirmed to them that He is the great, “I am.”

As we briefly discussed this morning in our Zoom class, this story of Jesus coming to the disciples in the midst of the storm, with his calm words of assurance, and his calming of the waters, has been an important story for the church now for 2,000 years. Those who faced persecution for their beliefs during the first and second centuries came to see their own stories as wonderfully caught up in the original stories of Christ. The church faced stress, it faced all sorts of calamity, but it did so with the assurance that Christ’s power and presence was the overriding truth that fashioned their lives. While they, as the successors to the original disciples had been “sent on” by Christ after his own ascension, his presence was still powerful and sustaining. It still is!

As the church got “older,” and more prosperous, she began to utilize this story in a host of different ways, even in the construction plans of her cathedrals. If one goes into a classic cathedral, such as Duke Chapel, stands in the area of the sanctuary where the people worship, and looks up, one sees a vaulted ceiling above. Look close; it resembles a boat that has been turned upside down. That part of the cathedral is called “the nave,” reflecting the “naval” or “nautical” nature of the enclosure, based on the story found here in Matthew’s Gospel. For many of us, that’s why such space is so special and why, during these COVID-19 days, we miss congregational worship so much.

Oh, I almost forgot. I was telling you about my walk on Monday. As I earlier said, the clouds looked quite dark and just when I was at a point almost a mile and one-half from our house, the heavens opened up. Rain poured down, spawned as it was by the tropical storm to our south. There was virtually no wind, but the rain; it was one of the heaviest I have ever seen (and experienced). I was 20 minutes from home, with nothing to do but trudge onward.

And then I thought about the graveside service at Markham Memorial Gardens. Those poor folks. I was dressed lightly in walking attire. They had no doubt dressed for church. About 15 minutes later, as I hastily made the wide turn on Trenton Road to the point where the cemetery was easily in sight, I gazed toward the graveside and saw a beautiful sight. Six folks from Durham, all dressed in black, were huddled together with the three or four gentlemen from the funeral home. They had all locked arms, had bowed their heads, and were obviously praying together, sheltered to a good degree by the tent above their heads.

As I took a few steps, I recognized that they were safe, sheltered as they were in the “nave” of that modest funeral tent, sharing their love for each other, and their love for the one who had died. I thought to myself, “He’s done it again. He’s moved across the waters to provide comfort and safety to those He loves.” As I returned home, the pouring rain mixed sweetly with the saltiness within my tears of joy. Thanks be to God for the One who is, and was, and always will be.