A Sermon for Proper 17, Year A August 31, 2014 :: Matthew 16:21-28 Fr. Jim Cook The Barnacles of Life. Several years ago, Peggy and I watched the film The Whale Rider. It s a great film, especially if you have daughters who are approaching their teenage years. I really recommend it. The film takes place in a small New Zealand coastal village, whose Maori tribesmen believe they re the descendants of this legendary whale rider who, about a thousand years earlier, led his people to their new home. And in every generation since then, a male heir to the original whale rider has been chosen to be the tribal Chief. And, an important part of their sense of community and security, stems from being able to observe the movement of a particular pod of whales, whose migratory pattern takes them past this tribe s coast lands. The problem, however, is that the current Chief has no male heir who s willing to take the job. But he does have a granddaughter, a twelve year old named Pai; and she s convinced that it s her destiny to succeed her grandfather, but he is not so sure. The situation comes to a head when, one year, a large pod of whales literally hundreds of whales rather than swimming past the island, as they ve done for as long as anyone can remember, instead mysteriously beach themselves. It was an event which seemed to signal an apocalyptic end to the tribe. But young Pai comes to the tribe s rescue, and puts her own life in jeopardy, by climbing on the back of the leader of the pod of whales, and leading them back to deep water. It s an act which reveals that she indeed has inherited the legendary whale rider s gift of being able to communicate with 1.
the whales, and her grandfather finally comes to realize that she s the one chosen to become his successor. Like I said before, it s a great movie. But I mention the movie because, not long after seeing it, I just happened to take up and read Anne Lamott s book, Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith. And as it turns out, she too had seen The Whale Rider; however, she had noticed something I had missed. And what Lamott noticed was that the big whale which Pai rode, in order to lead the rest of the pod to safety, was covered in barnacles; apparently, a common occurrence with certain species of whales. And it was those barnacles that provided the young Pai with handholds and footholds which allowed her to mount the whale, and hold on to the whale, while the whale swam to safety. And in watching that portion of the film, Anne Lamott saw a metaphor there: The young rider, Pai, represents each of us; The whale which she rode represents the course of our lives; and The barnacles attached to that whale represent the hard things that happen to us, during the course of our lives. In talking about these barnacles, these hard things which happen to us, Lamott described them as all the usual old failures and sorrows, all the ruckus of life that [we] have survived (page 199 200). And these things that happen to us, attach themselves to the skin of our lives like barnacles sometimes causing us to slow down, and sometimes forcing us to swim harder just to keep up. They re the stumbling blocks and pitfalls that all of us face, because they re all part and parcel of living. Sometimes, these barnacles are the result of our own doing, and today s gospel readings provide a good example of what I m talking about. 2.
If you recall, last Sunday s gospel featured that famous question Jesus posed to his disciples, Who do you say that I am? And it was Peter who offered the equally famous answer, You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God. That reading ended with Jesus praising Peter above all the other disciples, and Peter must have felt pretty good about himself. However, apparently not content with that unexpected gift he d received from Jesus, in today s gospel reading Peter decides to toss a barnacle into the mix. For, when Jesus begins to predict his death and resurrection, Peter decides to take the bold step of contradicting Jesus: God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you. And Jesus rather than shaking his head in disbelief and amazement over what he had just been saying, and thanking Peter for helping him to avoid what likely would have turned into a very difficult situation instead says to Peter, Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me... Ouch! Even though seven days have separated our hearing of these two events, in real time, the writer of Matthew seems to suggest that much less time elapsed. That is, it didn t take Peter very long to go from being the rock to being in league with Satan. It s amazing how fast the barnacles can attach themselves to us. But we don t need to be too hard on Peter, because he s just a typical human being, capable of such greatness of spirit, on the one hand, and such poverty of character on the other. He is the light in one moment, and he is the shadow in the next. He s just like the rest us of, barnacles and all. Only, in this case, his barnacles were of his own doing, stemming from his desire for position, power, prestige. And in that same book I mentioned earlier Anne Lamott s Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith Lamott describes a barnacle experience that happened to her, in her home, between her and her son Sam. She writes: 3.
The day after Sam turned thirteen, we were going through our usual hormonal transformations together, which is to say, sometimes the house gets crowded. There was Sam at thirteen usually mellow, funny, slightly nuts. But when the plates of the earth shifted, there was the Visitor, the Other. I called him Phil. Phil was tense. Also sullen and contemptuous. There was me at forty-eight usually mellow, funny, and slightly nuts and [then] there was the Menopausal Death Crone. Some days were great, because Sam and I at these ages were wild and hilarious and utterly full of our best stuff; but other days, when Phil and the Death Crone dropped by, were awful. We sniggered impatiently, and sighed and gripped our foreheads, and we fought (Pages 93 94). This barnacle experience wasn t something that Lamott wanted to go through. It was simply thrust upon her by time and human biology. And probably anyone who has been the parent of teenagers can identify with what Lamott described. Another example comes from my wife s extended family. Several years ago, our niece got married, and extended family from all over came to town. Those not included in the wedding party and, therefore, not invited to the rehearsal dinner came to our house for dinner. Peggy s cousin, Mary Francis everyone calls her Fran was one of those dining with us. During the course of the evening, Fran described a barnacle experience that she had gone through a few years prior. I didn t get the whole story, just bits and pieces from those who heard Fran tell her story. But this is what I learned: A few years earlier, Fran was involved in an auto accident, in which the car she was driving was hit, and hit hard. The driver of the other car wasn t wearing her glasses, and so ran a red light and plowed into Fran s car. It was a significant accident, and Fran 4.
injured her back and shoulder. She described the accident as having ruined her life. For a long time, Fran was in a lot of pain. And the things she took for granted, like being able to hop in the car and drive her kids to an appointment or practice, she could no longer do. More and more, Fran had to rely on her husband and children to do so many of the things she had always done before. So it turned out to be an accident that affected not just Fran, but also her whole family, and Fran was extremely angry at the driver of the other car; a lawsuit was even filed. As you can imagine, it was a barnacle experience that threatened to completely undo them. But at some point, Fran decided that she was tired of being angry, and tired of having her life defined by the accident and its aftermath. So, one day, Fran simply decided to try to put it behind her, and move on in a different direction. And from what I can recall, of my interactions with Fran during that evening, it certainly seemed as though Fran was succeeding. I know all of you have your barnacles; they ve attached themselves to the skin of your life. Some are barnacles that you ve unwittingly taken upon yourself, while others have been thrust upon you. Sometimes they slow you down, and force you to swim harder just to keep up. But sometimes they can cause you to change the course of your life, and you find yourself in places you never imaged existed, or in places you never thought you could reach. Barnacles can be like that. Like that little girl, Pai, in The Whale Rider, the barnacles that get attached to our lives can provide us 5.
with footholds and handholds which allow us to climb higher, and hold on tighter. This may be a part of what St. Paul had in mind, when he wrote: 3 More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not put us to shame, because God s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us (Romans 5). So what do you do when you find yourself covered in barnacles? If you find that simply swimming harder to keep up doesn t work, then try changing course. Remember what St. Paul wrote: his life certainly had its share of barnacles. But through it all, it was God s love and God s Spirit that sustained him. And Paul learned that by relying on God, and by trusting in God, the barnacles would never get the best of him. And so it can be with us. Those barnacles, which have attached themselves to our lives, need not define us, nor determine the course of our lives. And that s because we do in fact have the love of God, and the gift of his Holy Spirit, within us. And finally, I m reminded of something else that Paul wrote: I can do all things through him who strengthens me (Philippians 4:3). And so it is with us. And so it is with us. Amen. 6.