|
|
Peter, the Church, and the “If” that Sinks Us
Matthew 14: 22 – 33 |
|
|
Peter, the Church, and the “If” that Sinks Us “Lord, if it is you ...,” Peter says, when he and the other disciples, toiling across the sea, battered as the wind gets stronger and the waves get higher, are confronted by this — specter, this strangely familiar apparition. Oh, my! Could that be who we think it is? Could it be ...? “Lord, if it is you ....” Well, really — who does Peter think it is? Does he think it’s Jesus? Does he think it’s a ghost? “Lord, if ....” Many want to commend Peter for being so brave as at least to get out of the boat, when the other apostles would not even do that much. But this misses the point. Just why did Peter want to get out of the boat? Why would Peter want to walk on water? What is walking on water supposed to prove? We can safely assume that Jesus was simply trying to get from point A to point B as expeditiously as possible, but what was Peter trying to do? What was it that drove him to step out of the boat and onto the water, as if such a thing were possible? Or the desire to show himself to be some kind of spiritual Super Hero, the desire, perhaps, to show up the other apostles? Or did he think about it at all? Well, we don’t know for sure what was on Peter’s mind. That isn’t the point. The point of this story is not, “Look at brave Peter, at least taking a couple of steps where the others would not!” The point of this story is that Peter begins to sink, because his faith is little, and he doubts. This is also a story about Jesus, God-with-us, and the many ways in which he is with us. And this is also a story about us; yes, we need to be clear that Peter is us. God with us Who are we? Where have we come from? Where are we going? Who we are is the church, watching Jesus. Jesus has just, before the very eyes of the ever-watching and wondering disciples, miraculously fed 5,000 men, along with the women and children who were out there with him, in the middle of a wilderness. In our passage for today, immediately following that miraculous meal, Jesus makes these disciples, most of whom are experienced sailors and navigators very familiar with the sea, get in the boat by themselves and set out upon the sea. Jesus — “God with us” — has for some reason left the disciples to deal with the wind and the waves and the mysterious, chaotic sea on their own. Jesus stays behind to dismiss the crowd, as the disciples set out to cross the sea by themselves. Well ... okay. They’ve crossed this sea before. These waters are familiar enough. The disciples set forth, and Jesus spends the remainder of the night alone, up on the mountain, praying. The disciples, too, seem very much alone — battling their way through wind and waves on familiar waters that have suddenly become hostile and deadly. But Jesus does not leave them alone for long. Early in the morning he makes his way to them — in the quickest, easiest way possible by walking on the sea. The disciples see him and are terrified. Jesus immediately reassures them — using language similar to Yahweh’s words to Moses: Translators tell us, Jesus’ actual words are not “It is I,” but simply “I am.” And then we come to Peter’s adventure. Yes, we’ve already gone round and round about how Peter’s action does not seem like such a great idea — but some of what he does, when all is said and done, really is worthy of imitation. In the first place, setting aside the “if it is you” part, he asks Jesus if he can come and join him — he knows that he cannot do this without a word from the Lord. And Jesus, for his part, bids him come — he does not say anything like “Whoa! Peter, not a good idea! You’re not ready for this! Why would you want to walk on water, anyway? You’re already in the boat ....” No, nothing like that. Jesus, with one word, bids him come. Peter steps forth. He actually does take a couple of steps. And then he looks around. The waves are high. The wind is strong. He suddenly becomes aware of this crazy thing he’s doing, something only God can do: He’s walking on the water! It’s like he’s no longer “in the zone” as athletes put it, being carried along in the moment by such instinct and gifts and graces as he has. He becomes self-aware, in a way that, if quite normal, isn’t particularly helpful: Never mind the “I am!” stuff; here I am — Simon the lowly fisherman, walking on the water! “Lord! Save me!” he cries, as he begins to sink. And Jesus — being Jesus, being, after all, God-with-us, reaches out his hand and saves him. A story about the church If we are to get the fullest benefit from this passage of scripture, we need to understand it as more than a good story or just one more miracle of Jesus. This is not a simple newspaper account of “An Incident on the Sea of Galilee,” in which it is reported to us that Jesus walked on the water, and that Peter, because his faith was pretty strong, was able to imitate Christ and also walk on water, but only for a couple of steps because his faith, while pretty strong, was not really strong, as it should have been — no, this is not a newspaper report about a miracle, and it is not a story just about “faith,” either — strong or otherwise. Disciples and apostles back then did not really expect to be able to walk on water if their faith was “strong” enough, any more than we do. This is not a story about a boat on the Sea of Galilee 2,000 years ago. This is a story about the church. This is a story about us. Yes, there is a lot of symbolism of Jesus, God-with-us. The boat, with the disciples in it, is the church as it sets out into the world. In this story, God-with-us has left us on our own, for reasons that aren’t explained in any detail, or at all: Jesus has decided to stay back with the crowds, some of whom may (or may not) become disciples, too, and he has set those of us whom he has already won over and has in the palm of his hand loose to head off, on our own, to the other side. And then he goes up to the mountain to pray — he trusts us that much; he represents to us the God who after all created us with free will, talents, gifts and graces, and then set us free to use them. And when Jesus has finished praying, he returns to us, as quickly and expeditiously as possible, in a way that only God can come to us: across the water, skating along the surface of the storm-tossed sea of life. There he is! We were wondering how, in the middle of this ocean that suddenly got very ugly and hostile, he was going to link up with us again — is it really him? We were beginning to have our doubts whether we were ever going to reach the other side, what with all that’s being thrown at us by this sea of life, love, dashed hopes and hope made real, joy and misery. But there he is — is it really him? Carrying the “if” with us “Lord!” one of us says. “If it is you ....” And this bold one leaves us and steps out onto the waters himself, “if” and all. And that “if” begins to sink him. Jesus, for his part, knows Peter, knows us, knows our doubts and our fears, our sense of our littleness when faced by hurricanes and tsunamis and the many ways in which evil or even simple mediocrity seem to bog us down. And yet, when Peter says, “Lord, can I try this miraculous thing, too, can I join you out there, skating along on the surface of all this noise and peril?” Jesus doesn’t interrogate him as to his true motives or ask him what the point is when the point was simply to get in the boat, where Peter already is — he just says, “Come!” And Peter comes — carrying the “if” with him; Peter comes, “if” and all; Peter comes, “iffy” as the whole project may seem. And Peter begins to sink. But the Lord is there to save him, “if” and all, as soon as he cries out. And then he is in the boat with us, and as quickly as it struck, the storm stops. Where are we in all this? Where did we come from? Where are we going? We are the boat, the apostles — Peter and his “if,” along with the ones who stand back and watch — and we are out on a storm-rocked sea, called life, heading for a shore that we can’t see; sometimes, we’re not even sure it’s there. Jesus has departed for a little while. He has gone up the mountain to pray. But he will return. We know that. We proclaim it every time we celebrate Holy Communion, Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again. As a matter of fact, who is that out there walking toward us — am I seeing things, or is he actually walking on the water? No, that’s imposs .... Lord, if it is you ...! |
||
