Tear up the rug...

We're hearing the pitter-patter of little feet in our house! Not human feet, mind you, but the the puppy belonging to elder son and daughter-in-law who are vacationing for a couple weeks. And not really little feet, either. Winni, the wonder mutt, is already bigger than any of our previous pooches...and she's only six months old.

She is a sweet dog...loves to run and play (like all puppies do). Full of the warmth and exuberance and loyalty that are core reasons for having dogs in the first place. Even after having to clean up a few "accidents," we're still going to enjoy the days ahead.

We're also going to have to go shopping.

Yesterday...all that exuberance was unleashed on an innocent bath rug left within tooth-and-claw range while we were gone for a while. It was meant to be something soft and cuddly for the pup to sleep on in her kennel. But upon returning home, we found a mound of shredded blue nylon and, after speaking her name with some gravity, one guilty-looking pooch.

So much for comfort.

Question of the day: have you ever destroyed something that was meant for your pleasure, your enjoyment? Have you ever taken a gift, given to you in love or out of concern...something that could have been for your good...and shredded it? If you are a human being, the answer is undoubtedly "yes." Like the pup temporarily in residence at our place, we all make mistakes. We all too often don't grasp the purpose behind what we have been given...or we just get so carried away by our own agenda that the good things around us end up destroyed.

I think that, sometimes, God must look upon us as though we were a whole race of puppies. We can be loving and loyal. We are smart enough to learn and joyful enough to delight. Unfortunately, we have a tendency to mis-use what we've been given and to pee on the rug.

Thankfully, God...even when He speaks our name in judgment...keeps coming back to play with us, to care for us, to pour out upon us an abundance of mercy and guidance...all in the hopes, I'm sure, that we might grow into the loving and loyal companions we were created to be.

Woof.

Stay in the boat...

Read this coming Sunday’s gospel lesson (Matthew 14:22-33) to my friend Monty and he has a fit. Guaranteed. Sometimes we do it just to rile him up. “What the heck was Peter thinking?” he rants. Monty, you see, is an experienced sailor. He knows that you never jump out of the boat. The best way to survive is to stay in, hunker down and hang on…even in the worst of storms. “Peter is some kind of nut!” he will undoubtedly conclude. And while our usual response has been to laugh at the vigor of his objection, I’m beginning to think that Monty has a point.

It’s been popular among preachers and others to focus a lot of time and energy on Peter’s exploits in this text. He apparently takes Jesus at his word, goes over the side, and actually gets a few steps in before he is distracted by the still-raging storm and begins to sink. Jesus, naturally, saves his impetuous disciple and they all live happily ever after. The conclusion normally drawn is that Peter could have made it had he just not taken his eyes off Jesus. His failure is one of resolve; he doesn’t try hard enough. So if you all just try a little harder…

You get the idea. This is a great motivational speech. And it has a place in Christian tradition as an encouragement to stay focused on Christ. But it’s terrible as Gospel because it’s all about Peter’s effort and how we should emulate him…and be just a little better so Jesus won’t call us names like “ye of little faith.” Well, since when is “try a little harder and it will be OK” synonymous with the good news?

Another thing. As Jesus is walking towards the boat and its terrified occupants, he calls out to reassure them: “Take heart; it is I. Don’t be afraid.” Peter’s response? “Lord, if it is you…” Ahem. The only other two occurrences of “if it is really you” language in Matthew’s Gospel: It’s what the devil dares Jesus with as he tempts him in the wilderness. It’s how the crowd taunts Jesus on the cross. Whoa, Peter. Nasty company.

Maybe Monty is right. Maybe there’s just something wrong with this Peter who challenges Jesus and then dares to do what only God is able to do according to the scriptures: walk on water. In point of fact, he’s got no business getting out of that boat.

That’s not to say that the rest of Christ’s motley crew are heroes. Quite likely they were scared out of their wits. But, rather than challenging Jesus’ identity or taking on more than they were asked to do, they stayed in the boat where Jesus had put them and waited for their Savior to climb aboard and calm the sea…to do the stuff that a God and Savior can be counted on to do.

That, it seems to me, is the real good news here. Christ does not abandon his Church to the tempests and turmoils that confront our mission. Rather, he comes to us in our need and our fear, and delivers us from those things that threaten to destroy us.

Our job is to stay in the boat…to stay on task…to go where Jesus sends us…and to do what we are called first to do, i.e. to worship this one who saves us even in the midst of our doubts.

Sit down Peter and keep rowing. The Lord is about to come aboard.