Homily 608 – 9 APE
Holy Transfiguration, Ames, Iowa
August 25, 2024
Epistle:  (128) 1 Corinthians 3:9-17
Gospel:  (59) Matthew 14:22-34

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, one God.

I don’t imagine any of us have walked on water, if you have, I apologize ahead of time, and if you’ll let me know, I’ll let you talk from here on out.  Not having walked on water, I cannot begin to imagine how the world turned upside down in this moment on the way to Gennesaret.

St. Peter, I’m equally sure, had never walked on water.  There was more to it, though.  It wasn’t a calm sea, it was a windy, choppy sea.  The kind that makes non-fishermen and non-sailors like me seasick.

The disciples had, at Christ’s instructions, gone ahead of Him.  The dark of night, the fourth watch – which was 3am to 6am, the last watch – and they were beating upwind.  The boat was heading into the wind, and the waves, and being lifted up and slammed down with every wave.

Then, in the distance, they see something.  It was Jesus, but they didn’t know it at the time.  Nothing had prepared them for this.  The miracles they had witnessed were about healing and deliverance, not something like walking on water.

Like the shepherds at the birth of Christ, the disciples were sore afraid.  So Christ called out, to comfort them, “Take heart!  It is I!  Do not be afraid!”

I don’t know about you, but telling me not to be afraid has never worked well.  Particularly is such an out of control, the world is upside down, type of environment.

St. Peter, ever the bold one, gave a challenge to the figure.  Lord, if it is you – if it is you.  Think about that.  That doesn’t say much about Peter’s faith.  If it is you.  Like who else would it be?

Easy for us to say now.  But put yourself in Peter’s place, on a boat, in the darkest hours, in the midst of a windstorm.  And he still managed to say, “if it is You, Lord, tell me to come to you on the water.”  I can only imagine the reaction of the other disciples.

“Are you crazy?  Have you lost your mind?  You will drown in a moment!”

And Jesus said, “Come to me.”  Come to me.  Go ahead, step out, leave the relative terror of the open boat for the absolute terror of the sea.  Leave the only place of relative safety – relative being the key word – and come to Me.

St. Peter didn’t want to walk on the sea to show off.  Or to demonstrate his faith, or lack thereof.  He was able to step off that boat to be with Christ.

St. Peter demonstrates the Christian life in that one action.  He leaves the relative safety and security of the boat – the world.  He abandons the world.  Everything he knows to be safe, to be true, to be right.  He leaves it.

To pursue Christ.  To be with Christ.

And he would have gotten there too!  He stepped out of the boat and onto the water.  And he didn’t die.  He didn’t sink.  Maybe he didn’t even get wet.  He had been in boats for most of his life.  I doubt he ever voluntarily stepped out of a boat in the middle of a windstorm, in the middle of the sea.

The fateful moment came when Peter looked around.  When he thought about his situation, and how utterly ludicrous it was, when – quote – reality set in, Peter became afraid.  Peter began to sink.  He took his eyes off of Christ.

Sometimes we too are following Christ, and we get distracted by the lunacy of our situation in the eyes of society – the world, our friends, maybe even our family.  Nobody on our side, all alone.  In a stormy, violent sea.

We feel somehow let down.  Why aren’t things working the way they should?  Why am I afraid all of a sudden?  Why am I feeling like I’m beginning to drown?

Maybe this is the part that is more familiar to us.  Maybe you, like me, have experienced this feeling of abandonment.  Walking through the valley of the shadow of death.

And then we realize – we have only ourselves to blame for what it happening.  Yet, on our own, we can’t save ourselves!  All we can do is cry out, “Lord, save me!”  Lord, have mercy!

And we have to do something really, really difficult.  We have to return our focus to the One who can save us.  We return our focus to Christ.  We repent.

It isn’t easy – we have to ignore the world around us.  The friends telling us how foolish we are, and the family telling us how we’ve thrown everything away.  Reminding us that we got ourselves into this mess.  We should have stayed on the boat.

Know what though?  It’s too late.  We took our step, and we’re not in the world anymore.  We aren’t in the boat.  We wanted, and still want, to seek that which is greater, to seek Christ.

Even though the surroundings are terrifying, and the future unknown, we really, truly, only have one option.  Focus on Christ.  Return our gaze to Him.  Find the hand reaching out for us.

It will still be terrifying, but at least we can hold on to Christ.  At least He will hold on to us.  We may end up, like Peter did, back in the boat – but Christ will be there with us.  If we keep our attention and allow our world to be defined by Christ, He will draw us to Him.

Don’t overthink it!  Fill Christ with your vision.  Block out the other things going on – Christ should be the center of your vision, and occupy the fullness of your vision – your peripheral vision too!

Make Christ so large in your visual frame and mind that nothing else but Christ can be seen.  Or felt.  Or experienced.

Brothers and sisters, that is what it means to be saved.  That is what it means to follow Christ.  Nevermind the wisdom of the world around us.  Focus all your attention on Christ, and rest in His bosom.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, One God.  Glory to Jesus Christ.