For weeks the readings from the Gospel according to Matthew have been on or around the sea. We are awash in people's intentions and expectations. Everyone has their ideas about the journey and the destination. But things will turn out differently than many of the travelers imagine.

This might be a good time to talk about the importance of practical navigation.
But let us make a beginning by establishing our present position.

Five weeks ago we heard about the time when Jesus steps out of the sea-side house in which he is staying and the press of the waiting crowd becomes so great that Jesus has to step out into the water and sit in a boat. So Jesus rocks on the water and addresses the sea of faces on the shore.

We went flat out for three straight weeks after that.
Our Gospel lessons from Matthew presented parable after parable
welling up from the teacher on the sea and flowing out, like waves, over the crowd.

Image after image of the Kingdom of heaven break open on the beach.
People find themselves swept along.
They are drawn to Jesus like sand pulled into the sea
by the water on its way back to becoming a wave again.

It seems that everywhere Jesus goes, lines form and crowds gather.
Everyone wants something.
People come seeking healing, a blessing, knowledge, power­
or something which they cannot even name. Whatever it is, they just keep coming.
They are drawn more like moths moving toward light than like sailors steering by stars.
It is as much instinct as intention.

Last week's lesson opens by telling us of Jesus' attempt to withdraw
from this growing crowd.
Jesus is in a boat, so he simply moves out into deeper water
and sets off for a deserted place.

But the crowd follows the direction of the journey from the shoreline.
Their numbers grow as they pass through towns.

Now the hour is late. The people are tired. Some are sick.
All are hungry.

 
Jesus had sought to be alone.
Now, here he is at the end of a very long day
with fifteen to twenty thousand men, women and children.

Many of us might have been tempted to make an instant course correction
and set back out to sea. But Jesus has a different understanding of how to navigate the sea of humanity and the changing currents of life.

He comes ashore.
He heals the sick.
Then he tells the disciples to make sure that the hungry are fed.

At first it seems there is no food.
Then it seems that there is but a little.
Then there is clearly an abundance of food.

In the end 5000 families have been fed and 12 baskets of leftovers are collected.
Something amazing has happened here.
What ever lights Jesus is steering by, a sea of miracles seem to be left in his wake.

The effect of Jesus' works and words is cumulative. Even the most worldly wise in the crowd must be starting to wonder. "Who is this man?"

Jesus cannot help but know the building expectations of the crowd.
There must have been whispers: "Is he the one?"
"Will he gather us and lead us to victory where all the others have failed?"

Even now some may have uttered the word, "Messiah".
But what they think they are looking for, is not what Jesus is.

It is time to defuse a potentially explosive moment.
So Jesus quickly sends the disciples on ahead in one boat
while he stays to disperse the crowd.

Jesus will not be caught in the undertow of the crowd's wish for an avenging king.
Jesus makes no peace with oppression, but neither does he reach for a sword. He will not lead them into victory or into death. At least not in the way in which they expect.

So, finally, the crowds melt away before darkness comes.

By this point the disciples are fat out to sea.
Finally, Jesus is able to go up the mountain, by himself.

He prays.

Scripture tells us that he was there from late afternoon to early in the morning.
This is a rather different picture of prayer than the practice many of us may have.
To be clear, Jesus does not appear to have spent several hours of every single day in prayer.

Our review of six weeks of lessons from Matthew's Gospel indicates that there were days where that was clearly impossible. But it is also clear that Jesus set time aside, regularly, for deeper contact with God.

It makes sense.

When we say the Lordıs Prayer we say "thy will be done"
but how do we go about trying to discover God's will?
Discernment is more likely to come up from out of the depths
when we allow ourselves sufficient time to spend with God.

God's will often remains an abstraction because we forget
the biblical principles of practical navigation.

We tend, instead of seeking discernment, to navigate by making decisions.
We mark the facts which are evident to us. We set our sights.
Then we marshal our resources for the journey.
At some point in this last step, we let God know what God is supposed to do.
This is the maritime model of God as cabinboy, rather than as captain.

Even from a strictly utilitarian point of view,
this is not a very efficient use of the power of an omniscient God.
Surely omniscience would most useful in the planning stages of a journey.

And would any of us dream of communicating our interest and affection for another human being by calling them on the phone sporadically to blurt out a list of tasks we'd like them to perform?

How can we expect a deeper relationship with God to evolve out of prayers that sound like laundry lists?

I do not mean to suggest that petitions don't have their place in the ebb and flow of a life of prayer. But there are times when we need to simply be immersed in God, waiting silently for the tide to rise and carry us where God will.

It is a question of practical navigation.

It has less to do with plotting straight lines that define the quickest route from our desires to their fulfillment, than it does with a circular motion that moves us out into Godıs current and then back into the world where God would have us land.

Jesus lived a life full of such faithful oscillation.
He withdrew to pray ­ to be with God.
He returned to teach and nurture the disciples.
Together they went forth to teach and serve the people.
And then Jesus withdrew again to pray.
This cycle stands as a model of faithful, effective living.

There is a great power conferred by God, when God wills it.
We cannot control it, but we can be conduits of it.
We do not direct it, but it can animate us to acts beyond our understanding
and our own strength.

Jesus filled from the depths of God, walked on the face of the sea.
Peter at least for a moment accepted the possibility that Jesus was extending not just an invitation but the means to fulfill it when he said "come". And Peter also walked on water.

It is true that Peter gave in to fear. It is true that he began to sink.
But he knew enough practical navigation to know where to turn.
"Lord save me," Peter cried in his distress.

Immediately, Jesus reached out.
He followed this act with a question designed to help Peter grow.
But first he saved him.

You and I will face storms in this life.
There will be times when the waves will be so big
that we will be sure that we are perishing.

In those moments when we find ourselves sinking, may we remember Peter.
If we are swallowed and descend to the bottom of the sea, let us remember Jonah.
He too called out and was answered by God.

There is no place on the map of human experience which is inaccessible to Christ;
even a sea of tears is not an barrier for a Savior who can walk on water.
We may no longer live in Eden, but we remain beloved by the creator of heaven and earth.

And as Christians each of us has the possibility of being called to carry the light of Christ into some part of the world. Not always in the ways we might imagine, or even in the way we might choose.

But we signed up for this curious way of navigating through life
when we became a part of the body of Christ.
We are part of Christ's mission through our Baptism.
This is the water upon which we walk.