Proper 14   Yr A (RCL)

 

It’s a familiar story. Jesus walking across the stormy sea.

It appears in three of the gospels and in each case

the story comes right on the heels of the miraculous

feeding of the five thousand.

So familiar was it to Mark Twain, that once on a visit to the Holy Land, Twain decided to take his wife for a boat ride on the same lake.

It was a lovely moonlit night- the perfect evening

for a romantic boat ride on the Sea of Galilee.

So he asked a man in a rowboat how much he’d charge

to take them out on the water.

The man saw Twain’s white suit, his white shoes and hat and

supposing he was a rich Texan said the cost would be $25.

Twain shook his head, stepped away and said:

Now I know why Jesus walked. (as retold by David Lenninger)

 

This familiar story about Jesus coming across the water’s surface does appear in three of the gospels yet it is only in Matthew’s telling that we have the inclusion of Peter’s brief walk on the water.

For my money, that is the part that makes this story the most familiar.

Partly I confess, since I now along with you delightedly claim

a special kinship with St. Peter – our patron and namesake.

But also and even more to the point, since I feel a particular kinship with this headstrong, keen to please, foot-in the- mouth disciple…

perhaps you recognize a bit of Peter in you too.

 

Peter is Jesus’ first disciple, and clearly one of his favorites.

When Jesus hikes to the Mount of the Transfiguration, later on

 in Matthew, Peter is one of the three disciples

whom he asks to go with him and while the other two

are dumbfounded by the sight of Jesus talking with Moses and Elijah, it is Peter who blurts out:

Lord, if you wish, I will make three booths here,

one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah.

How very human and how very understandable--- Peter’s half-cocked but well meaning attempt to keep things just as they are.

 

It is Peter who asks Jesus to explain his parables.

Peter who answers Jesus’ questions first, Peter who understands Jesus’ true identity but fails to understand what it will cost him,

and Peter whom Jesus calls the foundation rock of the church,

one moment before he also calls  him Satan,

who is not on the side of God but of men.

 

It is Peter who swears he will never deny Jesus and Peter who does.

It is Peter whom Jesus asks to pray with him in the garden of Gethsemane and Peter who falls asleep. And in today’s well-known story, it is Peter whom Jesus calls

to walk with him upon the water and Peter who sinks.

Over and over again, he is the disciple who is always rushing into things,

saying what others are only thinking and doing

what the others would not dare. He is the disciple who takes risks, who makes great leaps of faith and stumbles as often as not but who keeps brushing himself off and getting up to try, try again.

.(Barbara Brown Taylor, p.34 The Seeds of Heaven)

 

It is hard not to love Peter. Sure, he is one of those enthusiastic types who talk a better game than they play, but still there is something so sincere about him and so achingly familiar. He is full of faith one minute and full of doubt the next,

riding high on his confidence in Jesus one moment and head hung low the next. He is not a fake. Through all his ups and downs, all his great moments and his awful ones, Peter’s heart is on his sleeve. And I for one am glad to be in his company.

For what you see is what you get with Peter: an impetuous, outspoken man who both loves his Lord and lets him down, who richly deserves Jesus’ judgment

but who also receives his mercy and grace.

 

If Peter is as familiar to you as he is to me then perhaps that explains why today’s story in Matthew is so recognizable too. I’ve not made a trip to Capernaum, never been

to the actual Sea of Galilee but oh my yes, I have been caught up in the current of fear and doubt. I’ve known both the adrenalin rush of faith felt fervor and the paralyzing rigor of shaky faith. Peter did too.

They are all, presumably, soaked, their teeth chattering and their hands blistered from their efforts, when Jesus comes to them.

It is around three in the morning, Matthew says. No one can sleep, even if he wants to.

They are all watching the horizon, measuring the distance they have come against the distance they still have to go when someone spots a shadowy figure walking toward them

across the churning water. “It’s a ghost!” someone cries, but immediately

the ghost speaks to them saying, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”

 

Now in the other gospel versions, it is at this point that Jesus, realizing their mounting fear, simply joins them in the boat. But Matthew includes this magnificent detail about Peter--- Peter who so often serves as the voice and heart of the group.

For it is Peter who calls back over the roar of wind and wave:

Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.

 

What a curious request… or is it?

Of all the things Peter could have asked Jesus…

Lord, if it is you- tell us what we had for supper tonight.

How many fingers am I holding behind my back?

What’s my mother’s maiden name?

Of all the possible ways for Peter to make sure this was the same man who had fed the multitudes,  cleansed lepers, healed the sick and silenced the angry waves-

Peter in his doubt and fear simply asks to be joined to Jesus.

Which of course Jesus does and when he does Peter takes those first steps out on the unknown, out onto the chaos of dark and murky undercurrents

and yes, he falters and sinks.  But notice again he cries out for union: Lord, save me!

Rescue me myself, from my fearfulness, from my terror of trusting in you.

And Jesus immediately steps up, takes him by the hand and pulls his frightened and probably shamefaced fisherman right into the boat. Safe from life’s storms just long enough for Jesus to ask him: You of little faith, why did you doubt?

 

Sound familiar? Aren’t these also the same words we ask ourselves?

Why don’t I have more faith? Why do I falter and regress, forgetting God’s goodness in the good times so that I panic in the bad?

I do not believe Jesus’ tone was accusatory to our water-logged compatriot Peter.

I believe this is a vital question put to each of us not by our executioner but by the One

who loves us beyond all imagining. Surely he already knows the answer. And he also knows that it is only as we sort out the answer for ourselves that we come to know and claim it for our own.

 

Why do we doubt? Because we are afraid, because the sea is so vast and we are so small, because the storm is so powerful and we are so easily sunk, because life is so beyond our control and we are so unable to control it try as we might. Why do we doubt? Because we are afraid even when we do have faith. Because we do have faith, you know. We do have some. Some more than others and some have faith when others do not and some, well some like Peter, like me and perhaps like you too,  some have faith that tries to trust and walk on the water, and then freaks and sinks but then calls out again and again to the One who ALWAYS stands ready to respond to our pleas,to steady our hands and to sustain our hearts.

 

What if Peter had not sunk?

What if he had jumped out of the boat with perfect confidence, a winning smile and strided across that choppy lake full speed ahead? It would be a different story. It might be a better story but it would not be our story. The truth about us is way more complicated.

The truth about us is that we obey and fear, we walk and sink, we believe and doubt.

But it is not like we do only one or the other. We, like Peter, do both. Our faith and our doubt are not mutually exclusive. In fact, God can and will use them both if we but ask.

Which is why we need Jesus. (Ibid, p. 38)

 

If we could walk on the water just fine all by ourselves we would not need a savior.

Which is why we would not be caught dead on the water without him. Which is why Peter’s story is so familiar.  When we sink, as we all do, our Lord reaches out and catches us. And he returns us to our companions in the boat who grab us by the scruff of the neck, haul us aboard, where we fall exhausted onto the slippery deck and say with full and thankful hearts:

Truly, you are the Son of God. Amen.