Trust in Faith
Sister Kathleen Flood, OP
Glimpse the Quintessential
Preacher: Mary of Magdala
Sister Mary Ellen O’Dea, OP
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Sister Ann Willits, OP
Announcing the Good News
Sister Helen Marie Raycraft, OP
Lay Preaching
Barbara Skierecki
The Word Is Near to You
Sister KC Young, OP
Stories of Preaching
Trust in Faith
Sister Kathleen Flood, OP
Texts: 1 Kings 19:9-18; Romans 10:5-15; Matthew 14:22-33.
The 5,000 have been fed and are satisfied.
Even before he dismisses the crowds, he makes the disciples get into the boat and go ahead of him to the other side. After the crowds disperse, a weary Jesus goes by himself into the mountains to pray. Matthew says that he continues to pray into the night until almost dawn.
Meanwhile, the disciples, rowing to the other side of the lake, have encountered strong winds and high waves. Matthew writes primarily for a Jewish audience—so the waves and wind are the hidden chaos that lurks in the lake to claim them. Chaos reigns. They feel alone.
A little before dawn they see someone walking toward them. It must be a ghost or a creature from the deep in human form. Who else would walk on the water in the midst of such a scary windy night? They were terrified. Sensing their fear, Jesus says "Take heart, it is I, have no fear." Peter still isn't sure who this presence is, and yet for a moment, he moves beyond his anxiety. In that moment Peter says "If it is you, bid me come to you on the water." Bid me come to where you are. "Come," Jesus says. Peter, stepping out of the boat, takes a few steps, and then suddenly realizes what he is doing. He takes his eyes off Jesus. He sinks.
"Save me!" Jesus reaches out his hand and catches him, hauling him out of the water and "walking" him over to the side of the boat where the other disciples pull him in. "O Peter! You of little faith. Why did you doubt?"
When I was a little girl, I would wait for my dad to come home from work. We had a little ritual. I would try to walk on his shoes for the short distance to the front steps. Try after try I would fall off. I couldn't get my balance long enough for more than a step. After more days than I can remember, I decided to give up. That very day my own personal cosmology had been shattered. With great care I had colored my mimeographed tulip outline—within the lines—a beautiful purple. My teacher made it clear that there was no such thing as a purple tulip and tore up my paper.
Seeing my sad face, my Dad said, "Kathleen, you're more afraid of falling and failure than walking. That's not what this is about. You don't need to succeed. I love you through the falls and frustration. If you want to do this, hold out your arms, look directly at me—not at your feet." I found my balance and we walked together to the front steps. I can still hear my Dad's words. It was my first introduction to contemplation, to gaze at the one who loved me and trust.
Why did Peter doubt? Why do we? Sometimes, like Peter and the disciples, we have faith, and we are afraid. The truth about us is that we obey and fear, we walk and sink, we believe and doubt. We do not do one or the other. Together faith and doubt buoy us up and bear us down, give us courage and feed our fears, support our weight on the wild seas of our lives and sink us like stones.
Look at me and trust. The steps will come. The steps may be over and through chaos, but the same Jesus who reached out to Peter with a compassionate hand is the cosmic Christ whose presence the wind and the sea understand.
Jesus joins them in the boat. The wind ceases and the waves hush, and together they enter the new day with an awesome communal silence. It was an echo of the silence that Elijah heard. However, God no longer passed by—God was in the boat with them.
Like Peter, we can step out even if the ground underneath us feels shaky and is no more substantial than water. What matters is that we are walking toward Jesus whose hand is reached out to us in invitation, ready to grasp us should we fall.