by the Rev. Carole Horton-Howe
Please note that the following sermon text was provided prior to the audio recording. The two versions may differ substantially.
Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. And early in the morning he came walking toward them on the sea. But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”
Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus. But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”
—Matthew 14:22-33
Many years ago I was in Boston and had a chance to meet a friend at the hotel where she was staying for coffee. The hotel happened to be near a special site in Boston called the Reflecting Pool. The water in it is smooth and still as glass. It’s maybe twenty yards wide and a football field long with sidewalks running the length of it. It’s not just its immense size that makes it interesting. You can’t see the edges or the sidewalks themselves. It’s a remarkable feat of artistry and engineering. When you see people walking alongside it, they appear to be walking on water. I commented about this to my friend “it looks like everyone is walking on water.” “Yes,” she sighed. “That’s the problem.” And it is a problem – or perhaps it’s so inconsistent with life experience that it reminds us more of magic than any actual life experience.
The gospel story today is one that has given comfort and encouragement to Christians for generations precisely because it is so relateable.
Peter is one of the most interesting people we meet in scripture. I think most of us know someone like Peter. We may have our own Peter-like moments. He is the latest in a long line of fishermen in his family. But he walks away from this heritage to follow Jesus. He doesn’t get a lot of what Jesus says and does. He’s been described as a big goof. He’s impetuous and doesn’t seem to think things through.
And that may be true. For me Peter is someone who wears his heart on his sleeve. His devotion to Jesus is complete. It’s solid. Remember that it was Peter alone among the disciples who answered Jesus’ question “who do you say that I am?” Only Peter was willing to break the silence, the step up and speak Jesus’ true identity. “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” In the beauty of that declaration we tend to overlook the truth of those times. Saying out loud that Jesus was the son of God was revolutionary or blasphemy. And either one could get you into a lot of trouble. Peter said it anyway. Maybe that’s why Jesus nicknamed him “the Rock” or Rocky. What we know about a rock is that it is solid and dependable as long as it’s on level ground. If it’s not it becomes unpredictable and even dangerous.
At Jesus’ declaration that he would go to Jerusalem to suffer and be killed, Peter can’t stand the thought of losing his teacher, his rabbi. “God forbid this should ever happen!” he says. Jesus gets in his face and tells him he is in the way. He likens him to Satan. Later Jesus tells Peter that he of all the disciples, in spite of his great love for him will deny three times that he even knows him. “No,” says Peter, “I will never deny you.” But of course he does. He stands vigil outside the place where Jesus is on trial. He is so terribly afraid. Fear blinds him and he runs away to safety.
In our story today fear is a recurring theme. The phrases “terrified” “cried in fear” “do not be afraid” and “became frightened” all occur in just a few verses. The disciples are together in a boat on the Sea of Galilee as Jesus instructed them. Jesus has left them to spend time in prayer. It’s easy to imagine that Peter is not waiting patiently. He might have been helping to secure the boat, bailing out water but impatient to be with Jesus again. When an apparition appears, Peter is the only one willing to step out. He’s spent his life on the water. He knows the risks but his desire to be reunited with Jesus and his impetuous nature propel him over the side and into the storm.
Let’s think about what that experience was like. Far from a smooth, glassy surface, the storm is raging as Peter steps out of the boat. The wind in his ears is deafening. The spray in his face blinds him. He can’t hear, can’t see. He’s cold and his wet clothes are heavy. He starts to go down. Water fills his nose and his mouth. But he manages to call out a prayer for help.
It might seem that the miracle of Jesus effortlessly walking on water is what we’re supposed to learn. That the upturning of all we know about the natural world is supposed to convince us of the presence and power of God. But the real importance of this gospel is verse 30 – a perfect summary of our relationship with Jesus Christ: “(Peter) became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’ Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him.” Peter’s prayer for help was answered in the ready, strong hand of Jesus reaching out to him.
What was in that hand? In Jesus hand is every attribute of God, every promise of God: love that binds us completely with God, mercy that holds us, compassion that hears and understands us, grace to make us whole and forgiveness so we can start again. That is what Peter found and we find in Jesus outstretched hand.
Jesus’ response is sometimes interpreted as condemnation. I don’t hear it that way. I hear this warmly, more like “C’mon, Rocky, really? You know how much I love you. You know I’m here for you.”
Remember that after Jesus’ resurrection, he appeared to the disciples one morning when they were fishing. When they were gathered altogether he asked Peter “do you love me?” And Peter responds that yes, he loves him. Jesus asks again. Peter expresses his love for him again. And a third time, Jesus asks him do you love me. Peter a third time says he loves him – three expressions of his love to counter each of the times that Peter had denied him. This is Jesus reaching out to him in love, in compassion, in forgiveness saving Peter from drowning in an internal storm of despair at what he had done. Peter’s only safety is with Jesus.
Fear is inescapable. Being a disciple is risky business. Because there is plenty to be afraid of right now. Fear will always ultimately break through our well-constructed defenses meant to keep chaotic storms at bay. Stepping out into them does not mean we will not have fear, but instead we are accompanied by the re-assurance that Jesus is near and there to help.
This is where the metaphor falls apart. Because we are not even permitted to be in the boat together. In our isolated boat, buffeted by winds and not entirely sure what the world is going to look like when we ultimately get to shore. The wind and waves that rock us do not always seem to be saturated with the qualities of God. But, like Peter, we are invited to step out in total devotion of Jesus turning our hearts into the pounding wind. And we can expect that Jesus will be ready there when we bid his presence.
I love the phrase that “Courage is fear that has said its prayers.” Courage is fear that has said its prayers. Peter prayed, “Lord save me.” Let us pray:
Lord Jesus, my savior and friend, you know that I live in a crazy and chaotic world. You also know my struggles. I confess I am prone to believe that I am alone. When life gets to be too much, please help me come to you. Calm my thoughts and emotions and open my heart to your peace, comfort, and wisdom. Help me not to live in fear. Help me recognize your out-stretched hand. Help me live out of the truth that you are always close, always loving and protecting me. In your holy name I pray. Amen.