IF IT’S REALLY YOUReading: Matthew 14: 22-36
In the three years of his public ministry, wherever Jesus went, he was followed by large crowds. They were hungry – hungry for bread, hungry for healing, hungry for hope, hungry for meaning. They would have sapped him of everything and still asked for more. The only way he could deal with this was to slip away alone, usually up into the hills to pray, to be restored, refilled, to listen again to God. On this occasion, he hadn’t had a minute to himself to come to terms with the death of his cousin John. He and his disciples had tried to get away to a remote place, but they were followed by thousands, all clamouring and pressing in for what he could do for them. Of course he didn’t turn them away, but before they knew it was evening and there was no food. There followed what we have come to know as the feeding of the five thousand. Actually the number was far greater than that, but they didn’t count women and children in those days! You can imagine how his popularity would have soared on this occasion and how the people would have wanted to make him their leader, so he immediately sends the disciples off in the boat and he heads for the hills to pray.
It was the middle of the night and a heavy storm had arisen. The disciples are in great trouble and danger with seemingly no chance of reaching land. They are in a desperate plight. At this point Jesus comes, walking on the water towards them. They are terrified. Even his reassurance that it really is him doesn’t help. And then Peter, impulsive as ever, challenges Jesus, “If it’s really you, tell me to come to you across the water.” Jesus takes him at his word and Peter, bravely enough, gets out of the boat and begins walking towards Jesus. Everything is fine, so long as he keeps his eyes on Jesus, but as soon as he averts his gaze and looks at the size of the waves, terror overcomes him and he begins to sink. Peter knew a lot about water and boats and storms. They were part of the very fabric of his life, but this was totally new territory for him. He thought he was drowning and he calls out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus responds, reaches out and grabs him. “You don’t have much faith. Why did you doubt me?” They climb back into the boat and the storm dies down. Was this another moment of recognition? It was probably a much chastened Peter who took his place back in the boat. Perhaps he didn’t immediately join in the cries of amazement and subsequent worship of those who had watched it all from the relative security of the boat. He was probably full of questionings. “Why did I take my eyes off him? Why did I not trust more? What possessed me to get out in the first place? Will I ever begin to fathom the depths of faith and the mystery and power of this man whom I am pledged to follow, this man of whom I stand in such awe and yet whom also I love so deeply?”
We can read this story so tritely and from a somewhat superior viewpoint, thinking, “Well, if Jesus was there, what was all the fuss about?” We forget that we are reading it from a post-resurrection standpoint. We know the rest of the story. The disciples didn’t. They were feeling their way towards understanding who Jesus was. Even although their minds must still have been reeling from the miraculous feeding of thousands of people, they hadn’t had time to assimilate this before they were faced with yet another test of their faith. Alone in the hills, Jesus was praying for them. He knew they were in danger and he came to them, but they weren’t to know that. They thought he was a ghost. It was Peter who showed the courage and the faith and stepped over the edge. Although he did start sinking, at least he tried. I would rather have been Peter who exercised whatever faith he had than be one of those who clung to the very shaky, frail and unreliable barque and remained on board hoping against hope for some change in the wind strength or some sight of land. We tend to zone in on the fact that Peter began to sink and that that was a sign of his little faith. I prefer to focus on the fact that he was the only one who ventured out. His faith and trust took him a certain way. It was when he began to rely on his own strength that he floundered. I am also sure that his reaction to the appearance of Jesus and his willingness to ‘give it a try’ warmed the heart of Jesus. This event and all the subsequent ones were nurturing Peter in the conviction that Jesus was the Son of God, a declaration that he would make publicly and definitively a short time later.
No one escapes the storms of life and the dark night when hope is at a low ebb and everything around us and within us seems to be in chaos. At those times it is good to remember that Jesus actually is praying for us. We find it hard to trust when we are being battered from all sides and any ‘safe place’ seems far away and unreachable. We pray, but perhaps we do not really expect Jesus to come. When testing times like these happen, he appears to be more a figment of our imagination, a ghost rather than the reality. But if we have the courage and even a tiny little bit of faith, enough to get us ‘over the side of the boat’ somewhere in the darkness and the storm, a hand will grasp ours and, despite all the odds, and the remarks and advice thrown at us from well-meaning onlookers, we will not drown. Rather we will live to see ‘the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.’ We will be drawn a little bit more deeply into the mystery of the Son of God who comes to us again and again across the raging seas of doubt and leads us to quiet waters of trust, of recognition and healing.