Basic Discipleship

Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

Year A

Jeremiah 20:7-9; Psalm 63; Romans 12:1-2; Matthew 16:21-27

“Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.”
Matthew 16:24

The cross!  It’s still, as it ever was, at the heart of our faith.  A crucifix is at the front of our churches.  It hangs at the end of our rosaries.  It’s the sign we make over ourselves before and after we pray, when we enter the church for Mass, and any time we are petitioning God for a blessing.  Some of our churches are in the shape of a cross.  Some of us wear one around our neck.  It’s everywhere.  But maybe that’s the problem.  We’ve become so used to seeing it that we have become inoculated to its meaning. 

Today’s Gospel calls us back to the cross.  It’s a reminder that this is a fundamental aspect of our faith.  I like to think of this passage as instructions for basic discipleship.  What does it mean?  What is Jesus talking about when He says that in order to follow Him we must deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow Him?

Let’s begin with the first part.  What does it mean to deny yourself?  Picture a courtroom.  Imagine that you are the key witness in a murder trial.  The defendant’s alibi rests on your testimony.  He states that he was with you at the time of the murder.  When you take the stand and you are sworn in the prosecutor asks you if you can corroborate the defendant’s testimony.  That’s when you look straight at the defendant as you say, “I’ve never seen this person before in my life.”  At this point, the defense’s case goes out the window, and the defendant is found guilty and sentenced to death.

Now picture the same scene, but this time you are not only the star witness, you are also the defendant.  That’s what it means to deny yourself.  It means you deny having anything to do with your old life and you walk away unfazed by the consequences of your testimony.  

Now imagine that this entire scene has taken place 2,000 years ago in a region of the Roman Empire.  Since you have been condemned to death you are sentenced to public execution by crucifixion.  You are given a rugged, wooden cross, and told you must carry it to the place of your execution.  Then you must follow your executioner out to the place where you will be crucified.  That’s the picture that would have been in anyone’s mind that was in Jesus’ original audience when they heard these words. 

Again, this is basic discipleship.  I think a lot of us look at this as a bonus level of discipleship for the people who are “really into it”.  But that’s not the case.  One doesn’t even begin to be a disciple until this has taken place.

Now here’s the problem.  We keep wanting to lay down our cross and call for a re-trial.  We want an opportunity to convince the star witness to change their testimony and agree with us.  And that’s where the trouble starts.

If you saw a man carrying a cross in ancient Rome or Jerusalem, you knew one thing: this man has no future plans.  There is nothing for him but suffering, humiliation, and death. 

How are we to live this out in our present time?  How do we live crucified?

Again, let us return to the analogy.  We are to completely turn our back on ourselves.  In doing so, we come face to face with Jesus.  We willingly lay down our lives in order to gain His.  “Whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”  It is His life that is to be lived out through ours.  By dying to self we open ourselves up to a resurrection of new life; of divine life.  “I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me,” (Galatians 2:20).

Right now we are facing unique and challenging times.  Foremost, in my opinion, is the great division that is taking place in our nation, and even in our churches over the issues of the pandemic, racial injustice, and the upcoming presidential election.  I am not troubled by the fact that good Christian people- true disciples- have differing opinions.  Rather I find it disturbing that we are allowing ourselves to be divided over the issues.  To live crucified is to live separate from the world around us and to bear witness of the love of Christ.  It is to die to our own right to be right.  The true test of discipleship in our present context is not whether or not we wear a mask, or which side of the Black Lives Matter we are on, or who we will vote for in the upcoming election.  The true test is if, in spite of differences, we love our neighbor, our Christian brothers and sisters, and even our enemies.

Dear brothers and sisters, it is time, and well beyond time, that we would again be known by the fundamental badge of Christianity- love.  But this love is no mere sentiment.  It is born amidst the ravages of the crucified life and therefore loves radically, in ways inconceivable to the world around us.  This is the love that loves an enemy, turns the other cheek, and goes the extra mile.  This is the love that willingly lays down one’s life to serve others.  The disciple who has been fully trained in the way of the cross recognizes that he has no rights and, because he is dead, becomes a conduit for the living love of Christ!

No matter how far down the road we have gone, there’s an opportunity to retrace our steps and find the cross we left lying in the dust.  Go there.  Find it, and lift it up again.  You will feel its weight and you will want to recoil from it.  But be encouraged.  Our Lord is there to bear the weight with you.  He will be faithful to walk this way with you.  He has already walked it Himself.  You will lay down your life.  But as He says, in the end you will find it again.  Only the life you find will not be the same one you laid down.  It will be resurrection life!

You Are Peter!

Twenty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time

Year A

Isaiah 22:19-23; Psalm 138; Romans 11:33-36; Matthew 16:13-20

“Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah… I say to you, you are Peter…”
Matthew 16:17, 18

We all know Peter.  Or do we?  When we hear his name two images emerge.  The first is of the impetuous fisherman who suffered greatly from “foot-in-mouth” disease.  The second is of the first Pope, the leader of the apostles and the first to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus to the people at Pentecost.  But the fact is that the first image is largely of a man named Simon and the second of a man named Peter.  They are, of course, both the same man.  But why the change in name and what did it have to do with the change in character?

Simon, son of Jonah, brother of Andrew, was a fisherman from Capernaum in Galilee.  There was nothing outstanding about him.  Simon was an observant Jew, but may not have been what we might think of as devout.  We actually know nothing of his religious life prior to his meeting with Jesus.  And in fact, if we peek into the nuances of his outburst in his conversion story- that he’s a sinful man (Luke 5:8) - then it stands to reason there was a good deal lacking in Simon’s faith life. 

When Simon met Jesus and was called to follow Him, he entered upon a course of conversion, but the change did not take place overnight.  Then something happened.  One day Jesus asked His disciples a simple question: “Who do people say the Son of Man is?”  The answers ran the gamut of famous prophets.  The people knew Jesus was special.  They knew He was someone different.  But they couldn’t quite grasp who He was.  The best they could guess was that He was a prophet; either someone who comes in the spirit of Elijah or John the Baptist, or perhaps He was actually one of them reincarnate.  This bordered on superstition.

But then He asked the more pointed question.  “Who do you say that I am?”  One can imagine an awkward silence at this point.  Because the fact is that His disciples probably thought of Him in much the same way as the rest of the people.  He was a good man.  He was a gifted teacher.  He was probably a prophet.  But what more could there be?

Then Simon blurted out his answer.  “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”  Stop for a moment to consider the implications of this statement.  To say Jesus is the Christ is to say He is the long awaited Messiah of prophecy.  The Messiah was conceived of as a deliverer of Israel from the tyranny of Rome.  This humble carpenter was being described as the conquering King that was to come.  Furthermore, to say Jesus is the Son of the living God is to say He is more than merely human.  He is also divine.  It is to proclaim that a man is God.

Simon probably has not thought all of this through.  This appears to be another of his impetuous statements made without any forethought.  Jesus tells him that he didn’t come up with this on his own but that it was revealed by the Father.  However, as a result, Simon’s name is changed to Peter.  Why?

The name, Peter, means “Rock”.  Our Lord says He is changing Simon’s name to Peter because “upon this rock I will build my church.”  Jesus is picturing the Church as a building and it is made up of a number of rocks, stones, bricks, etc.  Jesus is saying He will begin the building with this rock. 

Now allow me to digress for just a moment.  There is a popular line of reasoning that tries to say that Peter does not mean “rock”, but merely a “stone”.  They point to the fact that in the original Greek language of the New Testament the word for rock is petra, but the word for Peter is petros.  The first, they say, means a rock, but the second means a stone, or even a tiny pebble.  They reason that the passage should be interpreted to mean that the rock is Christ Himself, or perhaps Simon’s confession of faith, but that Peter is merely one of many stones that Christ will use in building His Church.  However, the argument breaks down on two points.

First, ancient Greek, like many languages have words that are designated as masculine or feminine.  Petra is a feminine word and so the ancient text uses its masculine equivalent, petros, when used as a man’s name.

Second, while the ancient text was written in Greek, Jesus actually spoke Aramaic.  The Aramaic word for both rock and Peter is Kepha.  In the original language that would have been spoken at this time there would be no difference in the word.

So we may have confidence that the way we read the story in English is exactly what is intended.  Jesus renames Simon as Peter in order to demonstrate that he will be the first rock on which Jesus will build His Church.

You will note that this did not instantaneously change Peter’s character.  However, Jesus’ intention is eventually fulfilled and Peter does, indeed, become the rock that leads the Church and proclaims the Gospel to the world.  The change in name is prophetic of what Christ would accomplish in Peter’s life.

Now what about us?  What if I told you that you are Peter?  Of course, you would instantly refuse the title.  This is for the Pope alone.  That would be correct in a juridical sense.  But spiritually we can all be known as Peter.  That’s because we are all the rocks our Lord is using to build His Church.  We may be frail, or even failures.  We may be impetuous like Peter.  But our Lord is not willing to withdraw His call from us for our failings.  And His choice to designate us as Peter is intended to call us to more than we could ever hope to be on our own.

Peter became who he was, not because he was infused with self-confidence, or endowed with an office, or empowered by self-help, or leadership training.  He was transformed because he had an encounter with Christ that produced faith and opened him to be filled with the Holy Spirit.  He became the man he was because he knew Jesus personally and intimately.  He was daily being transformed by Christ so that his life was meshed with that of our Lord.  This is, in fact, what is intended to be the normal experience of every believer in Christ.

Where do you find yourself today?  Are you Simon, full of fears, doubts, anxieties, prejudices, and sins?  Or are you Peter, flawed but faithful, destined to be someone who will boldly proclaim Christ by word and deed until death? 

Today, find some place of solitude.  Silence the noise around you and within you.  Listen for the voice of the Lord as He asks you, “Who do you say I am?”  Allow faith to arise in your heart and proclaim, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God!”  With that profession receive in yourself all its implications- the forgiveness of sins, the overlooking of failures, and the hope for eternal life.  Then listen for His voice again.  “You are Peter and on this rock I will build My Church!”

 

The Children's Food

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Year A

Isaiah 56:1, 6-7; Psalm 67; Romans 11:13-15, 29-32; Matthew 15:21-28

“It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs.” 
Matthew 15:26

If you had asked me, “What’s the worst thing you can hear from God when you pray?”  I would have answered without hesitation, “Silence!”  It’s so intimidating.  One feels ignored; as if God can’t be bothered by my trifling petition.  But when I look at today’s Gospel I realize that I am wrong.  The worst thing one can hear from God in prayer is rebuke and insult.

Today’s Gospel is one of those passages that’s difficult to nail down.  We know that Jesus preaches love, and that He preaches that love for all people.  We do not see Jesus as someone given to bigotry or hate.  Yet, in today’s Gospel that’s exactly how He looks.  Can you imagine if they had modern technology in Jesus’ day?  Someone would have caught this episode in a video on their phone and had it uploaded to Twitter long before the miracle took place.  You can hear the headlines: Bigoted Jesus Calls Gentile Woman A Dog!  It has all the hot flashpoints- a minority woman insulted by a male from the predominant race.  Modern commentators want to rush in and do damage control.  I don’t care what cultural nuances someone thinks affects this story, that’s still what Jesus said and I expect the woman heard it much the same way we hear it today.

Let’s take a look at this woman.  She is not named in the Scriptures.  She remains anonymous other than that we are told she was a Gentile.  She pleads, not for herself, but for her daughter.  She is met with silence.  Then the disciples try to have the Lord drive her away.  And then the worst happens.  Jesus addresses her as a dog and tells her that His grace is only for Israel; not for such as her.  Undaunted, she not only doesn’t take offense at the epithet but uses it to parlay Jesus’ words.  “Even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from the table of their masters.” 

That’s when it happens.  The entire tenor of the conversation changes and Jesus grants her request.  Why the change?  Jesus gives us the answer: “Great is your faith!  Let it be done for you as you wish.” Her persistent faith made the difference.  She won over Jesus who seemingly had no intention of helping her.

Was it all a ruse?  Was Jesus merely teasing her in order to provoke her response?  Perhaps, but not likely.  It may well be that Jesus knew all along He was going to help her and chose this method of coaxing her to faith.  Or perhaps it was for the benefit of all the unbelieving Jews standing around.  We really don’t know.  The intent of the Gospel writers in relating this story to us seems to be the end of it- that she received the answer to her request based on the greatness of her faith.  There is no divine commentary on Jesus’ motives or any attempt to justify His actions.

The fact is that we really don’t know all we might want to know about Jesus.  Who would dare to say that He knows what the divine Son of God was thinking?  Rather than try to understand, or worse, accommodate Jesus to our way of thinking, let us be content to leave some things mysteries and continue to trust in the mercy of our Lord, which was ultimately shown by the end of the story.  Let Jesus be who He is without our attempts to domesticate Him.  There are times when He is “wild” as the lion and we must be content for it to be so.

But again, this line of thinking completely misses the point of the story.  It was faith that won the day.  This woman had no bargaining power.  Jesus had every right to refuse her.  Maybe that sounds wrong in our age of entitlement.  This woman certainly did not think of herself as entitled.  Had she done so it is likely her request would have remained unanswered and we wouldn’t be reading about her.

The question we really ought to be asking ourselves is what is meant by “the children’s food”?

The gifts and the covenant belonged to Israel.  They could have come to Jesus on the line of the scripture and “demanded” service.  But they didn’t.  Often, they were the ones left bereft of Jesus’ blessings because they lacked the faith to simply ask.  We who are the New Testament heirs to these same gifts and covenant blessings often find ourselves in the same boat.  How did this woman who had no pedigree manage to win Jesus over when we so often fail?  The answer is because she had humble faith.  She didn’t come to Jesus demanding anything or laying claim to any so-called rights.  She humbly begged and was willing to endure the silence and the insults.  None of that mattered.  All she wanted was a few “scraps” so her daughter would be healed.

This is the children’s food: that all the wisdom and power of God are at our disposal in Christ.  This is no blank check.  It’s not, as some erroneously teach, a way to make more money, be more successful, have more things, and avoid sickness or pain.  Rather, it comes on the line of the will of God as we pray in the Our Father- “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven”.  When we pray on that line we can be confident of an answer.

Then why don’t we always receive one?  God is still sovereign.  He has the right and the wisdom to overrule us.  However, I don’t think that’s what’s happening most of the time.  I think that most of the time we just don’t stick to it.  After a little bit of discouragement we give up.  Then we have the nerve to have an attitude about it.  That’s not what this woman did.  And the difference between us and her is what makes all the difference!

Let me relate a story.

This past week while I was praying the Lord put 2 Chronicles 7:14 on my heart.  If you’re not familiar with that reference it says this: “If my people who are called by my name humble themselves, and pray and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and heal their land.”  I was reminded that all it takes to see things radically change in our world is faith-filled prayer.  I can’t wait for someone else to take the lead, I need to do it.

Later that evening my dad called.  He and my mom had been reading the Bible and they were trying to remember where a particular verse was found.  He began quoting it.  It was 2 Chronicles 7:14.  Later that night my wife and I came across no less than 2 more references to the same passage on social media as people were remarking how God had brought this verse to their mind that day as well.  When I was talking with my dad he said this: “I think God wants us to pray for people to turn to Him so we can see this coronavirus go away.”  It seemed so simple; almost childish.  But isn’t that the point?  I couldn’t help but agree with him.

I think that’s what’s happening in today’s Gospel.  Jesus is chiding us as if we were dogs and He wants to see who has enough faith to come back for more until they gain enough scraps to see the healing of the nation.

Now you can hear something like this and think to yourself, “How interesting” and then go on with life.  Or you can place yourself in the place of that faith-filled woman and be changed so as to effect change. 

How do we reach a point where we have faith like the Gentile woman?  I’m not sure I can lay out the menu, but I’m confident of this.  If we imitate her humility and continually come to the Lord in faith we will see His blessings.  Let us then be determined that we will humble ourselves and get low enough to lick up the crumbs that fall from the Master’s Table and receive His grace for our time of need!

Her Children Call Her Blessed

Some things are worth repeating.  Below I am reproducing a reflection I wrote a couple of years ago.  It captures so much of what I want to say about this day and about the Blessed Virgin Mary, Our Mother.

Revelation 11:19a; 12:1-6, 10; Psalm 45:10-12, 16; 1 Corinthians 15:20-27; Luke 1:39-56

“From this day all generations will call me blessed”

Luke 1:48

The year was 2006. My wife and I had just decided we were going to enter RCIA in the fall and become Catholic. Our pastor recommended we go to a special celebration being held in Cleveland on August 15th. It was a feast day but I didn’t quite get all the details. There were two things that were rather humorous about this situation. The first is that we were at Holy Rosary Parish in little Italy. This is a very Italian parish and neither of us have an ounce of Italian blood in us. We were sitting in the midst of people speaking Italian and not getting a word of it. It felt like we had crashed someone else’s family reunion. The second humorous detail is that we were still very Protestant in a lot of our thinking and here we were celebrating a Marian feast. Ask most evangelical Protestants what they dislike most about the Catholic Faith and the teachings about Mary will be first or second.

This was my introduction to what we call Marian devotion. Marian devotion does not mean we worship Mary. Nor does it mean that Mary is somehow competing with God for our attention. Catholics use the term devotion to the saints to indicate our recognition that the saints in heaven are in communion with us because we are all one body in Christ. Therefore, we believe we can pray to them- which is to say that we ask them to pray to God for us- for help in time of need. While this is true in general of the saints it is especially so for our Blessed Mother.

Today we celebrate that Mary was taken body and soul up to heaven, similar to Elijah and Enoch in the Old Testament. It is a precursor to what many Protestants think of as the Rapture. When our Lord returns in power and glory we will be caught up to be with Him. St. Paul is very clear that the dead in Christ will rise first and then those alive at the time will simply go up to meet the Lord (1 Thess. 4:16, 17). Sounds like assumption.

The Church celebrates many Marian feasts but today stands out in my mind as the Marian feast. Why do I say that? Because we typically celebrate a saint’s feast day on the day of their death, which is their entrance into eternal life. This feast is when Mary experienced that. So today I have a couple of thoughts about Marian devotion.

First, as a Protestant I was concerned that all this attention to Mary was somehow detracting from the proper adoration given to God. Now I know different. Think for a moment of a beautiful painting. Suppose you are seeing it in an art gallery and you are mesmerized. You can’t take your eyes off of it. The more you behold it the more you love it. You begin to talk about how great it is; how beautiful, how amazing, how deep, how engaging, how ingenious it all is. But of course, the more you praise the painting the more you are actually praising the painter. It is impossible to give the painting itself any credit. There is no way that anything you are saying, thinking, or feeling is not ultimately the result of what the painter has accomplished. So it is with Mary.

Mary is who she is by a special work of God’s grace. She didn’t earn her way to the fullness of grace. It was given to her by God. It was a gift. Mary didn’t become all-holy by her own efforts. Rather it was the result of God’s grace at work in her. She is His masterpiece and there is really nothing we could say, think, or feel about her that does not ultimately go back to the author of her perfection- our great God. In praising her we are praising Him. It cannot be otherwise.

This is why Mary proclaims in today’s Gospel that all will call her blessed. It is not an arrogant thing. Rather, it is a humble, gracious acknowledgment of God’s grace. Mary knows she doesn’t deserve the honor of being chosen as the Mother of God. She is awed and humbled. What can she say? Only that God has blessed her. The emphasis is on God who gives the blessing rather than on Mary who is receiving it.

This leads me to the second thing about Marian devotion. Taking our cue from this same verse in today’s Gospel, we call Mary blessed. But what does that mean for us? It occurs to me that we can gain some insight from a phrase in Proverbs 31 where the ideal woman is extolled. It says, “Her children rise up and call her blessed,” (Prov. 31:28). I think most mothers would be overwhelmed to hear their children actually use this term for them. But that would only be the case if her children actually acted as if it was true. It won’t matter if they call her “blessed” if they never listen to her and disobey her. She would not be honored, she would be insulted.

Again, so it is with Mary. She is not honored when we call her blessed. She is honored when we live like it. Mary is our mother and, as such, she is to be obeyed. And what does she say? “Do whatever He tells you,” (John 2:5). Mary is always pointing us to Jesus. Her every intent is that we become more like Him; that our union with Him becomes more perfect.

We have a wonderful gift in our Blessed Mother. In beholding her beauty and grandeur we are praising the Lord who made her that way. In listening to her counsels we are drawn nearer to our Lord.

So, today my family and I plan to visit Holy Rosary parish in little Italy. We have not become Italian. But we are now part of this wonderful family called the Catholic Church. We will celebrate and rejoice, not only in the grace and goodness of our heavenly Father, but also in the gift of our Blessed Mother. 

St. Maximilian Kolbe

Today is the Memorial for St. Maximilian Kolbe.  He was a Conventual Franciscan in the early 20^th century in Poland.  He was eventually captured by the Nazis and sent to Auschwitz.  While there, one of the prisoners escaped and in an effort to discourage any other attempts at escape the Nazis decided they would kill one of the men for the one who got away.  They randomly chose a man who had a family.  St. Maximilian volunteered to take his place in hopes the man could return to his family.  He was executed by lethal injection on August 14, 1941.  In so doing, he exemplified the words of our Lord when He said, “Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends,” (John 15:13).

While reading from some of St. Maximilian’s letters in today’s Office of Readings I came across the following passage:

“The burning zeal for God’s glory that motivates you fills my heart with joy.  It is sad for us to see in our own time that indifferentism in its many forms is spreading like an epidemic not only among the laity but also among religious.  But God is worthy of glory beyond measure, and therefore it is of absolute and supreme importance to seek that glory with all the power of our feeble resources.  Since we are mere creatures we can never return to him all that is his due.”

That’s what I want to have: “burning zeal for God’s glory”.  I don’t want to fall captive to “indifferentism”.  God is worthy of all our praise.  Oh to be filled with more of His own zeal- that loving zeal that led Him to forfeit the place of glory He occupied in eternity to take on flesh so He could die on behalf of mere mortals like us in order that we could be re-endowed with that divinity with which humanity was first invested and enter into heaven to share in His glory forever.

St. Maximilian goes on:

“The most resplendent manifestation of God’s glory is the salvation of souls, whom Christ redeemed by shedding his blood.  To work for the salvation and sanctification of as many souls as possible, therefore, is the preeminent purpose of the apostolic life.” 

This is also what I want.  For the love of God and for the love of souls made in His image I want to spend myself in that which leads to the “salvation and sanctification of as many souls as possible”.  This is, according to St. Maximilian, “The most resplendent manifestation of God’s glory”.  I want to see His glory shine in such resplendence.  May God grant souls for the labor of His faithful!

St. Maximilian Kolbe, pray for us!

Audacious Faith

                                                  Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Year A

1 Kings 19:9, 11-13; Psalm 85; Romans 9:1-5; Matthew 14:22-33

Peter got out of the boat and began to walk on the water toward Jesus.
Matthew 14:29

Peter gets a bad rap.  We all know him as the man who didn’t trust Jesus while out in the storm.  We view this story as an example of one of Peter’s many failures and we take comfort that we are in good company.  Fine!  But let’s remember that Peter was the only one to get out of the boat.  The rest of the disciples huddled in fear and watched.  Only Peter had enough audacity to actually give it a try.  Rather than see this story as an example of failure, I think we ought to see it as an example of success.

Let’s take a look at the story.  Jesus has just performed the miracle of feeding the 5,000 with a few loaves and fish.  Afterward, he tells the disciples to go on ahead of Him and He spends some time in prayer.  While they’re out on the sea a storm comes up and Jesus goes to them… walking on the water.  He has to walk because they took the only available boat.  The disciples think they are seeing a ghost and I’m certain they all thought it was an omen that they were going to die.  But Jesus encourages them.  “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.” 

Let’s stop for a moment.  When the disciples were in an impossible situation with the crowds Jesus came through by feeding them.  Jesus is the one who told them to go across the sea.  He is still teaching them the same lesson.  He wants them to believe even in the midst of impossible, or perilous, circumstances.  But they still don’t get it.  Rather than trust in the word of Jesus they are afraid for their lives.  Who of us can blame them?  After all, how many times do the same kinds of things happen to us?

So the disciples are in the midst of the storm on the sea and they see Jesus.  Now here’s where it gets completely bizarre.  Peter says, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”  What kind of logic is that?  What if it’s a mirage?  Peter is staking his life on the fact that this really is the Lord.  Then Jesus takes him up on the offer.  “Come.”  And Peter gets out of the boat in the midst of the raging storm and begins to walk on the water.

Now let’s pause for a moment again, because it’s at this point that we often want to play Monday morning quarterback.  We know how the story continues.  Peter walks for a few moments and then realizes, “Hey, wait, I’m in a storm on the sea.”  And just like an old road runner cartoon, he begins to sink when the realization sinks in.  We want to criticize Peter for this.  But how many of us have walked on water?  Zip!  None of us have done this.  In fact, aside from Jesus, Peter is the only other person recorded to have walked on water.  Not bad!

True, Jesus saves Peter and brings him back to the boat and asks, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?”   Then He calms the storm and the disciples finally begin to understand.  “Truly, you are the Son of God.”  Is Jesus angry with Peter? Or the others?  Have they sinned?  Perhaps.  But I don’t see Jesus’ rebuke as one of anger.  It’s more like a challenge.

Think about how a coach needs to motivate his players.  He might say something like, “Is that all you got?”  He intends his words to challenge his players to rise to the occasion.  I have a suspicion the same dynamic is working here.  Jesus is not remotely finished with Peter, or any of the others.  Their greatest moments are ahead of them.  But these are times when they are tried and trained so they can become the men we know them to be later.

There would come a time when Peter would say to a lame beggar, “Rise up and walk.”  He would look at a dead woman and call her back to life.  Even his shadow passing over those who are sick would heal them.  Peter wouldn’t have become that man without this experience that we consider today.

You know what I see in Peter?  Audacious faith!  Peter dared to believe.  You see, Jesus knew He could work with that.  Peter was rebuked for having “little faith”, but that’s better than having no faith.  Little faith means there’s something to work with.  No faith means there’s nothing to work with.  Go back and look at the many times in the Gospels when Jesus would say something like, “According to your faith be it done to you,” or the occasions when He couldn’t do any mighty works because of their unbelief.  God has committed Himself to work on the line of faith.  I don’t understand that, but it doesn’t matter.  That’s what He’s done.  He could do it all by Himself but He’s chosen to work through us and He’s chosen to do that according to our faith.  All He needs is someone audacious enough to dare to believe… like Peter.

Right now the prophets of doom hold sway.  Disease, the economy, natural disasters, or the political climate are all held forth as imminent threats to our lives.  Where are the people of audacious faith who will say in essence, “Lord if You’re in the middle of this storm, command me to come to You.”  God awaits such people and He will not be delinquent with His answers.

Here’s the good news.  What if you fail?  What if you mess up?  Then you’re in good company.  Because that’s what Peter did.  We can’t be afraid to fail!  Better to do our best and fail while trying than to fail by never trying.  I’ll be honest, when I read this story in the Gospel I’m with the disciples in the boat.  There’s nothing in me that remotely wants to try to take a walk in the storm.  I would be sitting in the boat watching Peter thinking, “What a fool”.  But then it would become obvious that I was the fool.  Foolish is the one who has the power of Almighty God at his disposal and chooses rather to cower in fear.

What storms assail you?  What ferocity surrounds you at this very moment?  The Lord is calling you out of the boat.  The key for you to remember is not whether or not you think you can walk on water, it’s to think about Who is calling you to do it.  We can learn from Peter’s mistake.  He stopped looking at Jesus.  With our eyes firmly fixed on Him, we too can walk on water in the midst of the storm.