Sermon “God, My Ship Is Small , And Your Ocean Is Wide.”

How I love these blue readings: filled with ships and boats, fishermen and nets, sailing and waves.

I deeply love the ocean and water – and I love the symbolism of water, sailing, fishing and nets in today’s gospel.

I love these readings about sailing, fishing, and water here in our church as they speak directly into this sacred place where we gather.

We call this the nave, the ship. We sit together as we sail together. We are sailing together and in the same direction. We are sailing toward the sun and God. We are sailing under the beautiful ceiling of this church that looks like a boat upside down. Adm the two church ships hanging over our heads remind us of the journey of sailing in history, in immigration, in adventure, and in our own lives.

We are seated in the blue pews, - blue like the ocean, blue like the blessed baptism waters, blue like the heavens.

And now we are even drawn into the blue and the baptismal blessing when we come to the altar for a sacred time of contemplation, communion, prayer, and forgiveness.

Blue is nature’s color for water and sky but is rarely found in fruits and vegetables.

Blue has more complex and contradictory meanings than any other color. These can be easily explained by pinpointing by the specific shade of blue.

Dark Blue - Bright Blue - Sky Blue - Light Blue

Dark blue: trust, dignity, intelligence, authority

Bright blue: cleanliness, strength, dependability, coolness

Light (sky) blue: peace, serenity, ethereal, spiritual, infinity

The Danish Theologian Helmut Friis once wrote a beautiful poem that rings true to me again and again surrounded by the blue:

Gud, mit skib er lille. Dith hav er stort.

God, my ship is small, You Ocean wide.

We are small here on the beautiful blue planet, sailing, navigating, and travelling.

Jesus began his public ministry in blue: under the open blue heaven and near the waves of the sea.

Jesus began his ministry at the seashore, teaching and drawing people close to him and his words.

4 When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, ‘Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.’ 5 Simon answered, ‘Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.’

The fishermen and Simon were tired. They had been fishing and working all night without any luck or catch. And yet, something in the voice of Jesus made Simon give it yet another try. To go deeper. To go further. To dare to go for it again. Not to give up.

They caught so many fish that their nets were breaking and bursting. The blessing was too much! The boats were sinking because of the abundance of fish. So be careful what you ask for – you might get more than you expect!

Facing that miracle of abundance, burdened with his lack of faith, Peter felt small and insignificant. He felt like a cheater and a sinner. Simon Peter realized that he was witnessing a miracle on the sea and was touched by the divine himself, but his heart stating sinking like a boat. He felt small and insignificant. He felt unworthy and sinful. So, instead of rejoicing, Sim Peter fell on his knees saying: Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!

But out of the blue, out of the redeeming baptismal waters, out of the limitless heavens of forgiveness and grace, Jesus words lifted him back to life and hope. Do not be afraid, from now on you will be catching people.

Put out into the deep water and try again.

Do not be afraid.

In these turbulent times of ours, in a time that truly rocks our boat and everything we hold dear and believe in: compassion, service, dignity, understanding and humanity; in a time of division and stormy waters in our country and in the world, we might feel a bit seasick, afraid, feel like sinking yes even drowning in the constant stream of information and misinformation, …..and yet we still are called to put into the deep water, cast our nets out, fish, sail and keep on doing it. Again, and again. With hope, With faith. With love. With determination. With courage. Believing that God is with us.

In your recent book Mod Midnatsolen, we are also sailing. On the ferry to Tromso but even more on a journey to find hope, purpose, family, friendship, and love. In between the waves come crashing and the seasickness sets in. But the journey with and to the Midnight sun continues…...

Look at the church ship. Imagine that you are on that ship. How is the journey? Soft and smooth. Stormy. Seasick. Comfortable. Relaxing or challenging.

Look at the church ship. Feel the pews beneath you and know that you are safe and told by God Do not be afraid, and I am with you.

In our personal lives, in our public lives, in our political lives we might feel that we are drowning or seasick, - but we stay on this ship, we stay on the course, we keep casting the nets, we keep sailing. That is what we do.

There is something poetic about the sea. It draws us. It teaches us. It carries us.

Listen to these poetic words about the sea and waves……

I need the sea because it teaches me.

I don’t know if I learn music or awareness,

if it is a single wave or its vast existence,

or only its harsh voice or its shining

suggestion of fishes and ships.

The fact is that until I fall asleep,

in some magnetic way I move in

the university of the waves.

‘In some magnetic way I move in / the university of the waves,’ writes Pablo Neruda in his poetic ode to the sea and the enigma of the human relationship to it as well as to mystery itself. What is this draw that pulls us into the unknown, shifting ablutions that are the action of the water? Neruda’s poem admits to not knowing even what it is that he is learning , but that the magnetism is palpable all the same, and perhaps then that is the only thing that we can really know as we become a part of the sea’s ‘pure movement.’

God my ship is small, your Ocean wide.

We keep sailing, keep believing, and moving in the university of the waves. Bon Voyage.

Amen