Dear Brothers and Sisters:
After dismissing the crowd of five thousand whom Jesus fed, he does not go on the boat with his disciples. Before doing so he escapes to “the mountain” in order to be with his Father. The day that began for him in solitude ends in solitude, far away from the crowds. (You and I also need a few minutes of solitude each day.) Jesus lets the disciples go ahead of him and subjects them to a test.
The calmness and stability of Jesus at prayer strongly contrasts to his followers’ huge distress at sea, and we get the impression that he has abandoned them to elemental dangers. The word describing the fate of the boat “beaten by the waves” literally means harassed or tortured, and in terrible distress. They are paralyzed by fear and unbelief and in need of healing by Jesus.
Jesus’ victory is clear from the beginning and he deliberately sends his disciples into the heart of the storm and sets him at odds with the most dark and ominous powers. Jesus providentially uses these forces to create faith in his followers. They now have an experience of Jesus as Lord and Fashioner of order out of chaos. This know-how is a great privilege and befits those who will be announcing the Gospel in the near future. Could it be that the Lord invites us to embark on the same road to be his disciples?
The fourth watch of the night is between three and six in the morning and since this storm started at night fall they have been enduring it for ten to twelve hours. We see how Jesus comes at the last hour when every possibility of hope is exhausted and fear has circulated as master of their souls and bodies. Jesus shows that only the weak and destitute acquire wisdom when they see their inability to conquer evil on their own.
The storm is bad enough and now they see someone walking towards them on the water. Is he the evil spirit of the lake? We know that it is he, but they do not know. One can see the correlation of growth in faith and knowledge of God with abysmal fear. The former cannot happen without the latter. This piercing alienation from Christ is the condition for a more deeply rooted trust.
Jesus says to them, “It is I, fear not.” It is me, do not be afraid. New life comes from a place of death. You and I are always looking for a solution that comes from outside of us, not from the center. Jesus comes from the heart of the storm where he is the major cause of their agony; it is the same pattern as Calvary. Jesus is in control. He says more literally, “Don’t fear for one more second.” Peter replies, “Lord, if it is you command me to come to you on the waters.” Peter does not ask Jesus to come to him but is willing to risk going to him. Jesus says, “Come!” Peter climbs over the side of the boat, in the storm, and walks to Jesus. As Jesus walked towards the disciples, Peter now walks towards Jesus.
This gospel scene is like a metaphor of life. The Word of God sets out on a sea of evil to rescue man. In an act of faith man goes and recognizes the Lord. He goes out to meet him. The meeting does not take place on the shore or on a shabby boat of “human accomplishment” but over the uncertain gulf of mutual love. Only naked trust can keep one afloat in this uncertainty.
When Peter takes his eyes off Jesus then trouble sets in. It is not a change in the sea, but in Peter’s heart. If my love looks downward then I sink due to my attachment to human things. When my love yearns for God, it will rise like a flame. As long as Peter obeys the command to come, all is ok. But Peter starts to look around, and at himself, and he starts to fear. He regresses and disconnects from Christ and is caught in the middle of a crucial act of faith. Peter plunges down into deep waters and yet so close to Christ. It is not physical distance that matters but the gulf introduced by his doubt.
Aware of his failure he cries out, “Lord, save me.” Jesus grasping his hand raises him out of the dark abyss. It is still night and the storm continues to rage, but Peter is in the Lord’s arms. Peter first had to obey the command to cross the sea, then the fear of the storm, then the ominous apparition of someone moving over the waters, then be abandons the boat, walks alone toward Jesus above the water and he’s a pioneer of recklessness that every disciple should exercise to be with the Lord. He still starts to sink and so in the end he must experience the humiliation of seeing his passion come to nothing.
Like Peter we never walk blissfully into the Lord’s embrace. No, I fall into his arms grasping for breath from a close brush with death and impending annihilation. This is a central element of my faith: to rejoice that I have to be lifted up after sinking in the abyss. Let me sink only if it occurs in front of the eyes of the Lord.
Jesus says, “Why did you doubt?” Why were you of two minds? Why did you look at the water and not at Christ? Being of two minds is the deepest enemy of faith. It is a subtle idolatry. I want to love God but with my corrupted nature I panic at the slightest insecurity. Half-trusting is not to trust at all. He jumped out of the boat with his heart and mind still divided but he does not sink like a rock. He half sinks. Even his little faith helps him.
What a great catechesis! He is afraid with the others but he jumps out of the boat, makes progress and then starts to sink. He is caught by Jesus and now walks back to the boat in total safety, supported by the arms of Christ with no wind or wave to pull him away. He does not come back alone; he brings with him the Lord.
Peter’s experience is exemplary. This contributes greatly to his status as first among the apostles. It is not a word from Jesus that stills the storm but peace from the union of Christ and Peter. Such peace belongs not just to one, but to all. This peace is seen in all of them assembled around the Lord, and they worship him. This is the Church: they fall down and profess their faith.