Sunday, August 9, 2020

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle A

Matthew 14:22 - 33

I still remember when I was about five years old my parents vacationed on Seely Lake in Montana.  One day my parents and my sister and I were out in a rowboat on the lake.  A wind came up and the water got very choppy, and it started to rain.  My dad threw everything he had into getting to boat back to shore.  I remember the waves washing over the side.  It was a very frightening moment.  I’ve had other experiences.  I like to go out early in the morning and ride my bicycle.  I was stopped behind a van right out there on the corner of Bliss and Longmeadow street, waiting for the light to change.  A big truck came down bliss and the van in front of me politely began backing up to give him more room.  You can’t go backward on a bike.  I thought for sure I would be run over, but fortunately I cried out in fear like the apostles and he stopped.

It seems as though the world is changing very rapidly.  Most Americans have adopted masks and social distancing and hand washing that a racoon would envy without too much fuss.  And just when things start to look up, we have riots going on in many of our big cities.  We’ve got people calling for defunding the police departments.  We have a massive rise in murders and gunshot wounds in some of our cities.  And we hear that the number of Amercans owning guns is about double what it was a year ago.  Education is rapidly becoming a long-distance proposition, and our kids are spending more and more time interfacing with computers rather than teachers and classmates.  Will things ever get back to normal?  Whenever I think about these things, I feel fear.  

Today’s gospel is not telling us that if you have enough faith you shouldn’t have any fear.  Fear is natural, it’s part of our animal nature.  Peter and  the other disciples feel fear -- properly so, because they are in danger of drowning. 

I’m sure you can think of times when you experienced fear.  It’s normal.  But how do you react to fear?  I think that’s the lesson this gospel is teaching us.  When the apostles see Jesus, they think he’s a ghost.  The Greek word is “phantasm” which had a wider meaning -- there was always a hint of evil in a phantasm.  But Jesus tells them very clearly, “Take courage, it is I, do not be afraid!”  And Peter reacts not with trust, but with suspicion:  “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”  There are times when fear rises up in me and it’s momentary -- I forget to pray.  But there are other times when fear is more prolonged and I find myself bargaining with God.  “Lord, if you are really there…”  So the Lord invites Peter to draw closer, to come to him.  And Peter does, and for a minute everything looks great.  But Peter again becomes aware of the wind and the waves and begins to sink.  And of course when he cries out Jesus reaches out and pulls him to safety.  And we hear those words, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?”

Is Jesus referring to Peter’s loss of faith when he realized he was walking on water?  Or to when Peter tried to put Jesus to a test to make sure the phantasm was really Jesus?  And maybe that’s the lesson for us.  One way to react to fear is suspicion -- that Jesus is not really there, that Jesus is not keeping his promises to us.  Fear makes me call upon all my defenses, and they are never enough to overcome fear.  But when I try to do this by myself, I always fail.  Another way to react to fear is trust.  When Peter steps out of the boat, he is trusting.  He walks on the water.  His trust doesn’t last very long, but while it is there, what power is in that trust! Jesus keeps his promises.  He says “Come” and invites us to step into the fear and let him be present to us.

As I was thinking about his gospel I remembered that picture a few years ago about the Christians who were executed by Isis in Libya.  They knelt on the ground and seemed to have no fear.  Jesus was present to them and even death could not frighten them, because they knew that Jesus kept his promises.    

Another thing to notice about this gospel; when you look at Peter, he goes from suspicion to trust to suspicion again.  But when you look at Jesus,  he is always moving toward those he loves.  He comes down from the mountain; he walks across the water; he comes toward them when they think he’s a ghost;  he keeps coming, always moving toward them.  And when he reaches them, the storm-tossed waters and the raging wind die down.  And he promises the same to you and I.  He will come to us if we let him, if we trust him.  

“Take courage,” he tells us, “It is I.  Do not be afraid.”  Let your fear lead to trust, not suspicion.