Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Battered by the Waves” Matthew 14:22-33

Researchers from the American Enterprise Institute, the University of Chicago, and the Pew Research Center have been studying the long-term effects of the COVID-19 pandemic on churches. They have found that Americans are now going to church less. 20% of church folks say they are now less likely to show up on Sunday mornings. Indeed, in most congregations, those who are “infrequent attenders,” only coming to church a few times each year, are the largest membership group.  Those numbers are highest for mainline Protestant churches, where 51% of members are what we affectionately call C & E (Christmas and Easter) people. Americans who are least likely to attend church are young adults under thirty. 72% of them say that they have not attended church, either online or in-person, since the onset of the pandemic.

The overall decline in attendance comes at a time when many congregations were already struggling. According to a study by Faith Communities Today, even before the pandemic, the median congregation size in the United States had dropped from 137 people in 2000 to 65 people in 2020. That study also found that Americans who attend worship services are more likely to attend large congregations, leaving smaller local churches in difficult straits. Even churches that remained vital through that twenty-year pre-pandemic decline are now reporting that COVID brought a big drop in volunteerism that has yet to rebound. 40% of church attendees volunteered before the pandemic. Nowadays, those who share their time and talents have fallen to a meager 15%.

Author, speaker, and America’s most trusted commentator on religion and contemporary spirituality, Diana Butler Bass believes that the decline in church attendance and service is part of a larger societal shift. Bass says that even before the pandemic, Americans were experiencing a loneliness crisis, with fewer spending time with friends or participating in social, civic, or religious activities. Whether prompted by the rise of social media, or our mile-a-minute culture, or the polarization of American society along lines of politics, race, and economics, many have lost the habits and skills of being social, like making friends and creating community.

That may sound like a perfect opportunity for churches, but Bass reports that, “Churches haven’t really figured that out.” We think and say we are friendly, but we aren’t really. We don’t see the cultivation of friendships and congregational fellowship as vital to our spiritual life and an essential part of our calling as followers of Jesus, who called his disciples his friends.  That must be why when we observe a “Bring a Friend to Church Sunday,” no one does.

One thing is clear. Churches are feeling battered by the waves of this post-pandemic world. Some congregations are bailing like crazy and hunkering down against the strong winds of change. Even so, it feels like disaster looms on the horizon. It’s just a matter of time before the boat is swamped and the waters roll in.

Our gospel lesson reminds us that the disciples knew how it felt to battle the elements in a small boat in the middle of the Sea of Galilee.  Jesus fed the 5,000 and then sent his disciples on ahead of him, across the water, while he went up the mountain to pray. As the disciples headed out to sea, their smooth sailing gave way to troubled waters.  Adverse winds blew in and whipped the waves high. Soon the disciples, even the seasoned mariners, were struggling to keep afloat. The last time they were in this predicament, Jesus was on board to still the storm. But now, Jesus was far behind on the shore and the disciples faced the storm alone. 

They must have been near exhaustion in the early morning hours when they noticed a hazy shape on the horizon, emerging from the weather and dark.  Matthew says that the disciples were terrified by the specter. The Greek word here – etaraxthaesan – means to experience very great mental distress and physical anguish: hearts thumping, guts churning, minds racing, a full-blown panic.  Not one of the frightened crew thought beyond disaster to possibility. Not one reassured his companions that this could be Jesus and not a ghost.

The trouble with all those scary numbers and polls is that they can leave us as frightened and overwhelmed as the disciples were. We forget the skills we have, skills that have kept the church afloat for two millennia, through disaster, hardship, plague, Inquisition, Reformation, and persecution. We lose our ability to think creatively, so we cling fiercely to what feels familiar and comfortable. We don’t take risks and try new things like sending home-made cookies and garden-grown flowers out to a lonely world that hungers for connection and love. All our attention ends up focused on the storm instead of on the one who walked upon the water. We see only the problem and not the possibility.

I like to imagine that when Jesus came down the mountain after his time of prayer, he stood on the lakeshore. He felt the wind tugging at his robe. He saw the water whipped into whitecaps. On the horizon, many stadia away, he saw the little boat, and he knew that his friends were in trouble. So, Jesus did the impossible. He tapped into that holy and almighty power that formed a world out of watery chaos and he stepped out upon the water. He made a bee-line for his struggling friends. Within hailing distance of the boat, Jesus shouted words of encouragement, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”

It is I, ego eimi, is better translated as “I am.”  Jesus stood in the midst of the wind and the waves and invoked the great and ancient name that God used when speaking to Moses from the burning bush: I AM.  “Take heart!” Jesus told his panicky friends, “The great I AM is here, now.”

I suspect that, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid,” is precisely the message that the post-pandemic church most needs to hear. Those surveys and statistics about declining numbers and fewer volunteers are a lot like rising winds. Those findings about growing isolation and alienation in our post-modern society can feel like stormy weather. It’s hard not to feel daunted by what worries and scares us. But obsessing about the numbers or despairing over changing social realities is a little like the anxious disciples despairing in the boat.

It’s a little like Peter, fearing the wind instead of taking the holy hand held out to him.  I like to point out that when Jesus called to Peter, “Come,” the Lord didn’t still the storm. He didn’t rebuke the wind or quiet the water. Instead, Peter had to step out into the chaos. The waves churned beneath his feet. The wind swept his hair in front of his eyes. He felt the watery spray against his cheek. Even so, Peter did just fine as long as he kept his eyes on the prize. So can we.  Jesus is with us amid the post-pandemic chaos. The Lord is here to encourage and comfort us amid nationwide declining attendance and dwindling volunteerism. Jesus can speak peace to our trembling hearts and stretch out a strong hand to save when we are in over our heads and feeling overwhelmed.

If you are a church wonk like me, then you know that the central portion of the sanctuary, where you are seated in the pews, is called the church’s nave. That name is from the Latin word navis, which means ship. In the early days of Christianity, the most commonly used symbol for the church was the ship. In fact, in a number of languages, including Danish, Swedish, Dutch, and Spanish, the same word is used for a ship and the church nave—skib, skepp, schip, nave. If we were to worship in a Nordic or Baltic church this morning, we would even see a model ship hanging in the nave, a nod to that ancient symbol for the church.

If you take a look at the vaulted, wooden ceiling of this church, you’ll notice that it looks a lot like a boat. And if you consider the stained-glass windows, you’ll see that on one side of our nave someone had the forethought to give us an anchor, representing faith to steady us in rising seas.  And at the other end of the nave, they gave us a cross, the symbol of Christ our Lord, to guide us when the waves rise and the way seems dark. Here we are, all together in our little boat.

If we listen closely this morning, we might hear it above the winds that blow. Beyond the surveys and statistics, Jesus calls, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” Look out to the horizon, beyond the problems. Look out to where the Lord waits. Look out for the possibilities are endless.  Amen.

Resources

Nicholas Schaser. “Commentary on Matthew 14:23-33” in Preaching This Week, August 13, 2023. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Carla Works. “Commentary on Matthew 14:23-33” in Preaching This Week, August 10, 2014. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Mar G.V. Hoffman. “Commentary on Matthew 14:23-33” in Preaching This Week, August 7, 2011. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Bob Smietana. “Church attendance declines as pandemic enters year three” in The Christian Century, Jan.  9, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.christiancentury.org/article/news/church-attendance-declines-pandemic-enters-year-three.

Justin Nortey and Michael Rotolo. “How the Pandemic Has Affected Attendance at U.S. Religious Services” a Report of the Pew Research Center, March 28, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.pewresearch.org/religion/2023/03/28/how-the-pandemic-has-affected-attendance-at-u-s-religious-services/

Adelle M. Banks. “New study examines how COVID has changed churches” in The Christian Century, Dec. 15, 2021. Accessed online at https://www.christiancentury.org/article/news/new-study-examines-how-covid-has-changed-churches

Matthew 14:22-33

²²Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. ²³And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, ²⁴but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. ²⁵And early in the morning he came walking toward them on the sea. ²⁶But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear. ²⁷But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” ²⁸Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” ²⁹He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus. ³⁰But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” ³¹Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” ³²When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. ³³And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”