Dear Friends,
Today we turn to Peter, another follower of God who had bouts of fear much like Elijah, whose story we read this past Wednesday. Our reading for today appears in every gospel except for Luke, but it is only Matthew who shares the story-within-a-story of Peter walking on the water, albeit for only a short while.
Before we read our scripture passage for today, take a centering moment to pray for illumination:
God of our present trouble and promised triumph, open our eyes to see you in the midst of our struggles. Open our ears to hear your words of invitation and assurance. Open our minds to recall your wonderful works and miracles. Open our hearts to glorify your name and seek strength in your Word. Through Jesus Christ our Lord, we pray. Amen.
Fear is a very complicated thing. It can protect us from harm, and it can also be the most paralyzing of emotions. It can blind us to the essential realities of our lives. It certainly blinded the disciples. “But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, ‘It is a ghost!’ And they cried out in fear.” (14:26) The disciples, who had been living and working with Jesus every day for months, were utterly unable to recognize him on the water. Some might say that was a reflection of how impossible it was for them to believe that he was actually walking across a threatening, stormy sea. But they had already witnessed many miracles, so that’s not entirely convincing. I believe that what blinded them to the identity of the man walking on water was fear.
Fear was not a common emotion among these men, most of whom had earned their living dangerously, fishing in the same unpredictable waters that now had them nearly paralyzed with fear. They had had the courage to leave their homes and livelihoods to follow this itinerant preacher, and surely by now, they knew him as a brother. But they were so unable to see him in the man who calmly walked towards them on the water – indeed, they were so blinded by their fear – that they believed him to be a ghost. Deep in the thickets of fear, they reverted to superstition. They were more than afraid; they were, as Matthew says, terrified.
Matthew’s supplementary story about Peter walking on the water graphically illustrates both what it means to be caught midway between faith and doubt and that fear has no neat, definitive ending. Peter was clearly caught between faith and doubt when, taking an immensely courageous leap, he said, “Lord if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” (14:28)
The turbulent sea is a character in its own right in this story, standing in for all the unspoken fears that plague us. The chaotic sea represents the myriad variables we can’t control or anticipate, inspiring our most primitive, basic fears. And Peter represents all of us who, daring to believe in Jesus, take their first steps into that unknown world of faith, buoyed by the confidence that Jesus will sustain us.
But then Peter’s faith seems to diminish, and again, he represents our fearful selves here as well. “When he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’” (14:30) He began to sink because the storm had so intimidated him that he forgot to center on Jesus instead of the winds and the towering waves. How often do we do the same?
It’s easy to focus on Peter’s “little faith” here. But do not overlook the first words of the next verse; they are fundamental to our faith and reliance on Jesus. “Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, ‘You of little faith why did you doubt?’” (14:31) Jesus doesn’t hesitate to save Peter, even as he witnesses his “little faith.” His response is immediate. Just as he was for the disciples, he is always at the ready to reach out a hand to us, no matter how incapacitating our fear may be.
The Greek word oligopistos (“of little faith”) is always used by Matthew with respect to believers, never for unbelievers. Its purpose is to rebuke those who fail to draw fully on their faith. Likewise in John’s gospel, believing is always a verb, never a noun. Faith is not a limited possession, but an action that must grow and expand. In Matthew, those of little faith, with a dash of doubt tossed in, are warned that they must exercise their faith or it will wither away like an unused muscle. Matthew leaves very little room for fear or for shallow understanding even as he acknowledges them as human realities.
Learning to rely on faith is very much like learning to ride a bike. The day finally comes to leave the training wheels in the garage. Your mom or dad holds the bike as they jog along behind you, just out of your line of vision. You’re doing great until you glance back and see your parent, smiling and proud, 75 feet behind you. Only then do you lose your balance and start to swerve; you doubt your new skills, and soon the bike tips over to hit the ground. But your skill, and your faith in yourself, will ultimately prevail, and you’ll be sailing along with well-earned confidence in your ability to stay upright and on course.
There are many obstacles to faith, but the blindness that comes with fear or with too narrow an understanding seems to underlie almost all of them.
There’s a story from the Zen Buddhist tradition that tells of a disciple who thought he had finally achieved enlightenment after twenty-five years of meditation in a cave. He thought he could demonstrate his new-found awareness by walking on water. He came out from the cave, and without even pausing to test the water temperature, he strode into the surf. Two monks saw him walking across the water. One monk said to the other, “Who is that? Look at him, walking on the water!” “Pity,” said the other monk. “The ferry only costs a quarter.”
Jesus’s walking on water does not establish or confirm his identity as “the Son of God” (14:33) any more than the Zen monk walking on water confirms that he has actually achieved enlightenment. The two monks observing him understand this as he does not, despite his long years of meditation. Had they been early Christians or Christians today, they would have recognized that it is not the fearless act of walking on water that marks Jesus as the Son of God; it is his words and saving actions that do so. Looking for miracles does not reflect our faith; paying attention to the witness of Jesus and all the saints that follow him (including in our own congregation!) builds upon and reflects on our faith.
The portion of the story about Peter, the story-within-the-story, teaches us about the power of fear and doubt. It teaches us that fear can be so great that it can reduce our faith to but a “little faith.” What the gospel shares with us is that Christian faith is not about absolute, unquestioning belief. Nor is it about holding protectively and securely onto that faith from the safety of the boat; doing that means we will never progress. Our faith is about courage and steadfast belief, even in the worst of storms. And it is about the reliability of God’s grace.
Like Peter, we are called by Jesus to leave the security of the boat and step into turbulent waters stirred up by storms. Those storms often arise from the productive tension between doubt and trust. But we must not resist that tension, or glory in it, or fear it if we are to be led into a deeper relationship with God. As people of faith, we are called to trust that God comes to us in our darkest and stormiest times. Indeed, God is often most present to us when we risk our faith and believe that we’re beginning to sink.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, whose testimony is all the more compelling because of the genuine, ultimately fatal, risks he took for his faith, returned to Hitler’s Germany after being offered safety from Hitler and a secure professorship at Union Theological Seminary. On returning to Germany, he participated in a failed plot to assassinate Hitler, leading to his imprisonment and execution. As he wrote in The Cost of Discipleship, “Peter had to leave the ship and risk his life on the sea, in order to learn both his own weakness and the almighty power of his Lord. If Peter had not taken the risk, he would never have learned the meaning of faith.” Learning the almighty power of the Lord includes recognizing and fearlessly accepting God’s transcendence in our lives.
For Matthew, and for us, believers are threatened by fear, and what feels safe may well blind us to greater truths. We may think of the boat as sanctuary from the storm, but the boat represents the church, with all its demands and privileges of faith, tossed on the turbulent seas of life. In these relentless days of pandemic, cries for justice, political turmoil, and economic frailty, we can too easily be tempted to stay securely in the boat, even as the storms around us threaten to overwhelm us. May we dare to get our feet wet when, despite fear and doubt, we step from our boat and face the storm in order to serve God’s purposes and God’s people, our sisters and brothers.
Joys and Concerns:
For educators and students who are struggling with how to teach and learn this fall in the midst of the pandemic.
For the amazing kindness of strangers, like the unknown man who paid $100 for a $1.00 bag of cookies at our stand at the Scottsville Farmers Market and refused to accept change. His quiet and remarkable donation will be used for the mission and ministry of our women’s group, and it’s raised the spirits of everyone who has learned about it.
Let us pray together:
O God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come,
We ask you for what we believe we need, knowing that as we dare to do so, we also trust in your wisdom to know what our true needs are.
We pray for those places in the world where children can’t sleep because of bullets flying through the night, or hunger so severe that they are in constant pain, or from the terror and loneliness of separation from their families.
We pray for nations and groups that continue to nurse old wounds and fight old battles rather than seek reconciliation.
We pray for those who have lost everything, including their faith in you, to natural disaster and accident.
We pray for all who have been given the power to lead. May power not corrupt them. May they seek to serve rather than be served.
We pray for those who await their physician’s diagnosis, and for those trying to cope with what they’ve already heard, and for those who are their caregivers.
We pray for those who grieve, whether for the loss of a family member or friend, or a job, a home, a self-image, or a dream.
We pray for our church. Don’t let us become complacent or anxious for our safety. Help us to recognize you in the storms that surround us, so that we may be empowered by our faith to meet all obstacles. May we recognize Jesus and follow him even when he calls us to leave the confines of the boat and venture out onto the water with him.
We pray in the name of the Holy One. Amen.