Scripture
Immediately he made the disciples get into a 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
Sermon
Last Summer, on my annual pilgrimage to Ocean City, NJ, we had seven straight days of riptides. I don’t know whether you are familiar with riptides. They’re nothing more than strong currents, occurring in what they call “confined” areas, like inlets. The coast of New Jersey contains probably hundreds of mini-inlets—areas where the curves of the shoreline can confine and thus strengthen the tidal flow, resulting in riptides.
I mention this because I don’t have any memories of being afraid on the water. I grew up on the ocean, and I’m a strong swimmer. The one time I supposedly was being dragged out by a riptide (I think I was nine or ten) a family friend pulled me out before I even knew it was happening.
What you’re supposed to do when you’re caught in a riptide is relax, float on your back, and trust the tide take you parallel to the coast, which it will. Eventually, it will deposit you back on the beach.
Last August the riptides meant no swimming, for anyone, for a solid week. For someone whose first glimmers of what eternity might mean are connected with looking out over the Atlantic Ocean, and who relates more to mermaids than to fishermen, this was disappointing.
We meet Jesus and Peter today following a difficult and busy time. At the beginning of chapter 14, Jesus hears of the death of John the Baptist at the hands of King Herod, which is then described in picturesque detail. Following that Jesus leaves the area where Herod has jurisdiction, and goes off by himself, presumably to grieve and to pray. But the crowds follow Jesus, and the disciples do too. After a day of teaching and healing Jesus and the disciples feed this large crowd of people—5000, not including women and children.
After this, Jesus sends the crowds away, and tell the disciples to go back across the Sea of Galilee in their boat. He has still not had any time to himself, and Jesus has the good sense to know he needs that. The loss of John, the man who baptized him, is a great loss, and he must be grieving. It can be hard to take the time we need to care for ourselves in the face of great loss and upheaval. Here, Jesus is a good role model for us. He goes up a mountain to pray.
Meanwhile, the disciples are rowing back across the sea—a trip that should not take them very long. The Sea of Galilee is just slightly smaller than Cayuga Lake. But the winds have turned—instead of favoring the small boat, it’s blowing hard against them. The boat is being battered. The disciples are in trouble.
Early in the morning, during what some translations call the fourth watch, the disciples see Jesus. He’s walking towards them on the sea. The fourth watch begins at 3 AM; it’s still dark. The image of Jesus walking on the sea is terrifying to the disciples. They think he’s a ghost. Remember, the news of the death of John the Baptist is still fresh. It’s entirely possible that Jesus might have been captured and executed, since, like John’s, his teaching is so threatening to the powers that be.
Jesus sees and hears the disciples’ fright and calls out to them. Take heart! It is I. Be not afraid.
And there, again, those potent words, Be not afraid, this time combined with “Take heart.” Due to years of cavorting among Gilbert and Sullivan enthusiasts, I always fill in the space after “Take heart!” with “Take any heart! Take mine!” Which, in this case, fits the situation nicely. Of course, Jesus would offer his own heart to those whose courage was failing them.
At this moment Peter has an idea. I think Peter must be a verbal processor, like me. I think he knows what’s going to come out of his mouth after he already says it. Immediately, he says, “Lord, if it’s you, call to me, and I’ll walk to you on the water.”
I wonder what Peter’s thinking. Is this a moment of bravado? A moment of pure faith? A moment of wanting to exert his growing sense of leadership? Or is it, simply, that he wants to be with Jesus that badly, that he can’t wait for his Lord to get to the boat?
Jesus answers, simply, “Come.” And Peter does.
Imagine this beautiful moment. Peter is the first person (the first person who is not also fully divine, that is) to do this. It’s beyond imagining. The Rev. Nicolette Penaranda, creator of the art on the front of your bulletins and also on the screen, writes that this moment reminded her of a Jay Z and Kanye West song featuring Beyonce, called, “Lift-Off.” She quotes the lyrics in her artist’s statement:
“We’re gonna take it to the moon, take it to the stars,
how many people you know can take it this far?”
In fact, her awareness that this moment is occurring in the darkness causes Rev. Penarando to use a motif of constellations in the four leaf-shaped objects that encircle the collage. Stars. This moment for Peter is a kind of lift off, being where he never dreamed he would or could be, in the presence of someone he never dreamed he’d know, let alone become close to.
In that first thrilling moment, Peter is looking at Jesus, he is moving toward him. But then, the wind distracts him, it frightens him. And once again, Peter connects with the danger of the situation. But now the danger is even greater for him, he thinks, because he doesn’t have the floorboards of the boat under his feet, just…
And then he begins to sink.
Is this a moment of terrible doubt? One commentator I read this week had severe words for Peter from the moment he said, “Lord, if it is you…” Who else says, that, he asks? And the answer is, the devil, in the temptations in the wilderness. If you are the Son of God,” the devil begins each dare. Is Peter doing something on the verge of evil?
Rev. Penaranda includes West African symbols in her beautiful collage that offer insight on this moment. On the left side of the image you can see what she calls a wind tunnel—something that almost reminds me of a riptide—a place in the lake or sea where the water is moving energetically, maybe fiercely, but also which is surrounded by tiny symbols of concentric circles called adinkrahene. These circles indicate authority, leadership, and charisma—which we know that Jesus has, and which we can infer from Peter’s story that he has on some level as well. But then, look at Peter’s foot. You can see in the center bottom of the image, Peter’s foot has a symbol on it like a sunflower—a circle with petals surrounding. This is mako, the symbol for peppers, and it invokes a West African proverb: Not all peppers ripen at the same time. Peter may have leadership skills, he may have faith, but they are still growing.
As for me? I believe Peter’s step onto the water is a moment of pure love. And so was the hand—Jesus’ hand—that rescues him from the danger of drowning. The moment he realizes he’s sinking Peter calls out to Jesus—Lord, save me! And Jesus does. And Jesus’ comment?—you of little faith, why did you doubt?—I can’t help believing that it’s said with a twinkle in his eye. I believe Jesus jokes and joshes a lot more than we recognize. Jesus also becomes angry, there’s no question about that—we’ll witness that real anger in a few weeks. But his love for these friends, followers, disciples of his is always at the forefront of his relationship with them. Especially with Peter.
I think of that hand as I think of that advice for surviving riptides. The moment Peter feels that hand clasping his, I believe it’s a kind of letting go, a kind of relaxing into the moment, and trusting immediately that the waves have no power over him, as long as he submits to that calm, powerful hand that will not let him go.
There are so many ways we can feel ourselves sinking. We can feel it in the water, of course, but we can also feel it when a relationship is coming to an end, or when the news of illness comes as a shock, or when we can’t seem to get it right at work, or when we can’t seem to get it right with our children, our parents, our partner, our friends. We can feel that we’re sinking when difficult memories come back to swamp us. Grief can make us feel that we’re sinking.
But Peter’s faith is what buoys him up from start to finish in this passage. He desires to be near Jesus—he immediately asks that he be called to Jesus. He has these moments of walking toward Jesus when he keeps his eyes fixed on him. And then, in his fright, he calls out for help because his heart is still fixed on Jesus. And then he rests into the grip of that hand and knows he is safe, and not just from water and waves.
So this week, I ask you this: Can you think of a time when you were sinking—physically, spiritually, or emotionally? What did you do? How long did it take you to reach out? Whose hand did you reach for? (Don’t forget: God sends angels in the form of friends, family by blood or by choice, and strangers.) We’ll have this conversation in our Facebook group, so feel free to join in and share your stories, as you feel comfortable.
When days threaten to swallow us, and the storms of life feel too big, we have many ways to reach out to God. God will hear our cries. God will remind us not to be afraid. God will reach out that strong and comforting hand to grab onto ours. And God will pull us to the surface, pull us back onto the boat, and bring us to shore, and wrap a blanket around us and say, Take heart. Take mine.
Thanks be to God. Amen.