Matthew 14:22-33
22 Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. 23 And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, 24 but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. 25 And early in the morning he came walking toward them on the sea. 26 But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, "It is a ghost!" And they cried out in fear. 27 But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, "Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid." 28 Peter answered him, "Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water." 29 He said, "Come." So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus. 30 But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, "Lord, save me!" 31 Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, "You of little faith, why did you doubt?" 32 When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. 33 And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, "Truly you are the Son of God."
I remember the first time I met him. I was a new transfer student to Samford, and I wanted to be a part of this program called Samford Sunday (called “H Day” once upon a time), a program where I could preach in Baptist churches across Alabama most Sundays during the semester. In order to be a part of Samford Sunday back then you had to have a one-on-one interview with him. I can remember a lot about that first meeting with a man who would come to quietly define a great deal of my love for Samford, its religion department, and my calling to preach. We sat in a classroom across the hall from the university minister’s office, a classroom normally used by underclass students, so there were rows of those desks that were more like chairs with trays big enough for nothing bolted to them. I sat in one of those desks, while he sat in one right next to me. We talked about preaching, ministry, our mutual home in South Alabama, and then he prayed with me—for me, rather, and my calling.
His name is Sigurd Bryan (to many of you here, he would have reminded you a great deal of Oliver Graves). He and his wife Sarah are about as close to saints as I’ve ever met, and I had the privilege of knowing Sigurd through my years at Samford and worshipping with him and Sarah both at Shades Crest Baptist Church while I was an intern there. When I was ordained a couple of years later at Shades Crest, Sarah was the chair of deacons, so her name is signed on the certificate of ordination that hangs in my office.
We lovingly referred to Dr. Bryan in the religion department at Samford as “Saint Sigurd,” due to his quiet demeanor and saint-like life. In fact, we had heard all sorts of legends about Dr. Bryan. While others in the religion department had rumors that suggested they had lit Bibles on fire or denied the divinity of Jesus, Dr. Bryan was rumored to have done something entirely different. You see, Dr. Bryan swam every morning in the pool on campus (even all those years after his retirement), and as the story goes, Dr. Bryan would swim 99 laps. Why only 99? Well, after he had swam 99 laps across the pool, he’d walk the last lap—on top of the water! I don’t think Saint Sigurd would like that story or that fact that we lovingly called him Saint Sigurd; he’s just a little too humble.
But isn’t that a mark of true faith, of true “saintliness,” to walk on water? Why, the very phrase has made its way into our common vernacular: if someone can accomplish great things we say they can “walk on water.” It’s one of the more readily recognizable stories and attributes of Jesus’ miraculous nature, and most of us who’ve heard the story of Jesus walking on water in church know that it isn’t just Jesus who walks on water, but Peter does too—at least for a little while. Yes, Peter walks out on the water towards Jesus, and we’ve touted that as a sign of Peter’s great faith, of his trust in Jesus’ power to keep his feet above the water. Of course, the story goes on to say, “But when [Peter] noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink..” It’s usually here when we say something like, “Well, Peter took his eyes off Jesus and began to sink down, so if we just keep our eyes focused on Jesus…”
But isn’t that a mark of true faith, of true “saintliness,” to walk on water? Why, the very phrase has made its way into our common vernacular: if someone can accomplish great things we say they can “walk on water.” It’s one of the more readily recognizable stories and attributes of Jesus’ miraculous nature, and most of us who’ve heard the story of Jesus walking on water in church know that it isn’t just Jesus who walks on water, but Peter does too—at least for a little while. Yes, Peter walks out on the water towards Jesus, and we’ve touted that as a sign of Peter’s great faith, of his trust in Jesus’ power to keep his feet above the water. Of course, the story goes on to say, “But when [Peter] noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink..” It’s usually here when we say something like, “Well, Peter took his eyes off Jesus and began to sink down, so if we just keep our eyes focused on Jesus…”
Now, that’s not a bad sentiment, really, to keep one’s eyes fixed on Jesus, to always be looking to Jesus, but the scripture doesn’t say anything about Peter’s eyes being fixed on Jesus. If I’m honest with you, the more I read this passage the more questions I have about it, the more Peter’s actions make me scratch my head a bit. I mean, we know the gist of the story: Jesus has the disciples get in a boat and head across the lake while he goes up the mountain to pray, but while he’s praying a storm comes up and begins to thrash the disciples’ boat. Then, Jesus comes walking to them out on the water. They have a rather natural reaction to seeing a human figure walking out on the water, especially after being kept up all night in a storm—they think they’ve seen a ghost! “But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’"
Now, it’s right here where the story gets a bit weird, honestly. See, if it had just gone from verse 27 straight to verse 32 then it might make a little more sense. After the disciples see Jesus and Jesus says, "Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid,” Jesus gets in the boat, the wind ceases, and they all worship him. That’s a good story, a powerful reminder, reminiscent of the time he had calmed the storm in the eighth chapter of Matthew’s gospel. But that’s not the way the story goes. No, Jesus tells the disciples to take heart, to not be afraid because the ghost they think they’ve seen is in fact him, Jesus, but instead of them breathing a collective sigh of relief, Peter pipes up and says, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water." Now, I want you to think about that for just a minute: “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water." Who else would it have been? Seriously, who in the world would Peter have thought it could be? Who else would have walked out on the water, told them to not be afraid, AND claim to be Jesus?
Furthermore. Why does Peter want Jesus to command him to come to him on the water? That’s a bit odd isn’t it? Sure, I suppose Peter may have wanted to be where Jesus was, but Jesus was walking towards them, presumably to get on the boat with them, so why does Peter want to go out there? And what was Peter going to do once he got there? Was he going to shout back to the others in the boat “Hey you guys go on ahead, me and Jesus are just going to take a little stroll on the lake?” Was he going to walk out to Jesus to get a better look at him? I mean, really, why does Peter want to go out to Jesus on the water? The other disciples are seemingly content with knowing that its Jesus coming towards them, that the one who had calmed the storm before was close by them, in the midst of the storm once again, but Peter wants something more it seems, but what exactly?
I think that’s where those verses in between come in. In verse 28 “Peter answered [Jesus], ‘Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.’ [Jesus] said, ‘Come.’ So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus. Now, up to this point, everything is going well: Peter gets the response he hoped for (or maybe he had hoped it wasn’t Jesus and he could stay in the boat…?), so he steps out of the boat and starts walking on the water. Now, I don’t know if this is a sign of Peter’s faith, of Jesus’ power, both, or something else altogether, but I know it doesn’t last long, because “when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’" Look again at what the text says, “when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened…” Did he not notice it before he got out of the boat? Had Peter been aloof, unaware of the great wind and the waves that had battered the boat which he was stepping out of unto the water? Of course not! So why, all of the sudden it seems, does he notice the strong wind and become frightened? Could it be, that he thought the wind would quit blowing, that the waves would cease rising, that the water would calm, and he’d walk safely and freely out to Jesus? Could it be that Peter thought this was the safer path, the more secure approach to take when one is being battered by the waves, to get closer to Jesus? Did Peter give in to the notion so many of us fall prey to, that getting closer to Jesus is safe, without any chance of harm or hardship?
I think that’s where those verses in between come in. In verse 28 “Peter answered [Jesus], ‘Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.’ [Jesus] said, ‘Come.’ So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus. Now, up to this point, everything is going well: Peter gets the response he hoped for (or maybe he had hoped it wasn’t Jesus and he could stay in the boat…?), so he steps out of the boat and starts walking on the water. Now, I don’t know if this is a sign of Peter’s faith, of Jesus’ power, both, or something else altogether, but I know it doesn’t last long, because “when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’" Look again at what the text says, “when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened…” Did he not notice it before he got out of the boat? Had Peter been aloof, unaware of the great wind and the waves that had battered the boat which he was stepping out of unto the water? Of course not! So why, all of the sudden it seems, does he notice the strong wind and become frightened? Could it be, that he thought the wind would quit blowing, that the waves would cease rising, that the water would calm, and he’d walk safely and freely out to Jesus? Could it be that Peter thought this was the safer path, the more secure approach to take when one is being battered by the waves, to get closer to Jesus? Did Peter give in to the notion so many of us fall prey to, that getting closer to Jesus is safe, without any chance of harm or hardship?
Isn’t that what we’re so often prone to think, to believe? If we can just get closer to Jesus, the waves will settle down, the winds will cease, and the storms will blow over. Isn’t that what we want to believe? That if we have enough faith, if we get out of the boat, if we just set foot on the water, Jesus will make all the danger disappear, and we’ll be safe and out of harm’s way. Isn’t that what we want? Is that what Jesus gives us?
This morning, I can’t help but wonder if those Christians (laypeople and clergy) who met at St. Paul’s Memorial Church in Charlottesville this weekend believe that Jesus would make the danger disappear, that their faith would keep them safe and out of harm’s way. I wonder, do you think they took those first steps onto the tumultuous waters of racism and hatred believing that they’d be stilled as soon as they started walking? Or what about those believers who answer the call of Christ to go to those places in the dark corners of this world where war and violence have left the land scarred and broken, places where so often the gospel of Christ is not allowed, outlawed, and hated; do you suppose they believe the bombs will cease, the guns will stop shooting, and folks will listen to what they say with open minds because they walk a little closer to Jesus? Or perhaps you’ve been in some place in your own life where you wanted to believe that if you just prayed a little more, just read your Bible a little more, just went to one more church service, just had the courage to step out of the boat, that life would suddenly become a gravy train with biscuit wheels and everything would be alright. Have you ever thought that before? I know I have.
Like Peter, though, when I’ve been there, when I think I’ve found the answer, when I think peace will come and things will get better because I’m taking a step out towards Jesus, eventually I realize that things don’t always get better. In fact, I often realize that the closer I get to Jesus, the more tumultuous the waves get, the stronger the wind blows, and the deeper the waters seem. I have found that the more I pursue Jesus the more complicated life gets, the more nuanced my convictions become, the more my beliefs become tossed about on the waves, disoriented and recast. The more risks I take in getting closer to Jesus the more I realize how easy it is to be overwhelmed by it all, that the easy, cookie-cutter answers and bumper sticker slogans of cultural Christianity won’t still the sea, quiet the thunder, or calm the storm. No, what I’ve come to learn, like Peter, is that the closer I try to get to Jesus, the more I notice the wind and the waves, the more likely I am to be overcome by them, and the more likely I am to cry out “Lord, save me!"
And I know, when I am overcome by the cruelty, the selfishness, the inhumanity, the wickedness, hatred, and sin present not only in the world but within my very own heart—I know when I am overcome by all of this and feel the waters of this life begin to overtake me, Jesus will reach out his hand, catch me, and say, "You of little faith, why did you doubt?" And in spite of my lack of faith, in spite of my doubt, Jesus will always be there with me—he may not always still the storm or calm the sea, but Jesus will always be there with me, whether I sink or walk. Amen.
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