Call to Worship
Praise the God of wind and waves,
The God who calms the raging sea.
May God be the eye of our hurricane,
Our bridge over troubled water,
Our shelter from the storm.

Unison Prayer (St. Basil the Great)
Steer the ship of my life, good Lord, to your quiet harbor, where I can be safe from the storms of sin and conflict.  Show me the course I should take.  Renew in me the gift of discernment, so that I can always see the right direction in which I should go.  And give me the strength and the courage to choose the right course, even when the sea is rough and the waves are high, knowing that through enduring hardship and danger in your name I shall find comfort and peace.  Amen.

Words of Assurance: Psalm 107:30, Good News Bible
He calmed the raging storm, and the waves became quiet. They were glad because of the calm, and he brought them safe to the port they wanted.

The Lord’s Prayer
Our Father,
who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come,
thy will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread;
and forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil;
for thine is the kingdom,
and the power,
and the glory forever.
Amen.

Opening Song: Hillsong United, “Oceans (Acoustic)”

Scripture: Isaiah 43:1, Good News Bible
Do not be afraid—I will save you. I have called you by name—you are mine. When you pass through deep waters, I will be with you; your troubles will not overwhelm you.

Sunday Sermon

If you’re a Long Island surfer, this is not your weekend. The ocean is nearly flat, with a forecast of 0-1 foot waves. But if you’re a swimmer, this is definitely your weekend, because the sea has been agitated all summer. This is a weekend to look for beach glass in the calm, reflective waters, and to swim to your heart’s delight.

There’s a sand bar at Roger’s Beach in Westhampton, where the surfers typically catch the biggest waves. It’s about as far from shore as one end of our hallway is from the other. Most people have no trouble walking our hallway; but after church, stand in the hall and ask yourself if you could swim to the kitchen. On Friday, I decided to give it a shot, looking for where the waves were breaking offshore. When I got there, I realized that I could stand; the water was only up to my waist. I turned around and looked back at the shore; I was a long way out and lots of people were pointing at me. Then a couple more people decided to swim out; then a few more. Soon there were a dozen people on the sand bar, but with hundreds of people still on the shore, it felt like a private party!

This is a true story, but it is also a metaphor. Between the shore and the sand bar, I kept thinking, “When you pass through deep waters, I will be with you.” The water was so clear I could see the bottom; I just didn’t know how far down it was. At a certain point, I knew that safety awaited, if I only pushed a little harder and swam a little farther.

The metaphor is easy to understand. The shore is where we are now; the sand bar is where we want to be; the deep waters are what we have to go through to get there. For some, the deep waters are therapy; for others recovery; for others a difficult conversation. For some, the deep waters represent hard work; for others, owning their mistakes; for others, letting go of their anger or giving their lives over to God.

On a calm day, the ocean will hold you. If you get tired, you can float. The waves will not knock you over, nor will the rip currents carry you to sea. Yes, there are sharks somewhere, but there are always sharks, just as on land there are always bees. You are sixty times more likely to die from a bee sting than a shark bite, and bees don’t like flying over water, so in that sense, you’re safer offshore. In this scenario, the shark represents whatever we are afraid of that we shouldn’t be afraid of: the unreasonable fear that holds us back. Should I not eat lettuce? Can a tick really turn me into a vegan? What if my life doesn’t turn out the way I’ve planned? I don’t have the bandwidth for such fears.

Even if I try to insulate myself from all danger, bad things will still happen. I know that life is dangerous, but I also know that God will be with me in my deep waters, because I’ve already swum through them over and over, and even though I’ve sometimes felt alone, I’ve never been alone. Everything I feared would beat me didn’t beat me. Everything I feared would kill me didn’t kill me. The same is likely true for you.

Now imagine that you are standing on the shore, staring at a sand bar that seems far but is within reach. Will you leave the safety of the shore? If you find yourself over your head, will you push a little further, or turn back? Or will you keep your eyes on the prize, and press on?

Here is one thing that is true for all of us: a better life is within our grasp. I’m not talking about heaven, but the here and now. Perhaps the shore is anxiety and the sand bar is peace. Or the shore is old tapes and the sand bar is new thoughts. Or the shore is isolation and the sand bar is engagement. If we do what we’ve always done, we’ll stay where we’ve always been. But here are some words of encouragement: God is on the shore, God is on the sand bar, and God is in the deep waters in-between; so if God is everywhere, why not try?

One of my favorite short books is Grayson, a true story by long distance swimmer Lynne Cox. She was swimming 200 yards offshore in 55 degree water when she sensed a large presence in the water beside her. It wasn’t a shark; it was an eighteen-foot baby whale that had gotten separated from its mother. Lynne knew that if she swam back to shore, the baby whale would follow her and be beached; so instead she swam further out, straight out from shore, much farther than she’d ever planned to swim, until finally the mother whale heard the sound of her baby and the two were reunited. On that day, Lynne realized that what she wanted most was not her own safety, but the safety of another living creature. The baby whale found her mother, and the swimmer made it back to shore.

I wonder if I could ever be that unselfish, or that brave; if I would ever risk my life for something I knew was right, even if I didn’t know how it would turn out. But God isn’t asking me that today. Instead, God is saying, “I have something better for you. It’s just a little ways offshore. Let’s swim there together. I’ll be at your side the whole time. You’ll be glad when you get there. I believe in you. I know you can do this. Come with me, and when we get there, we’ll look back at how far we’ve come, and we’ll celebrate together.” May we have the courage to leave the safety of the shore, and to swim out to the life that God has planned for us. Amen.

Closing Song: Bethel Music, “You Make Me Brave”

Benediction
May the Lord watch over us
on the shore and on the sea,
and all points in-between.
Amen.