The Storms of Life

Text: Matthew 14:22-33

Grace, mercy, and peace be to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

          I imagine that all of us at some point have said the words, “I’ll catch up with you later.” Maybe you’re in a group and everyone wants to do their own thing for a while. You’ll set up a time and place to rendezvous and everyone goes their own way. It’s not that much different than what Jesus does in today’s Gospel reading. Jesus sends the disciples off across the Sea of Galilee in a boat, essentially says, “I’ll catch up with you later,” and goes “up on the mountain by himself to pray.” In a similar way to last week’s introduction to the miracle of the feeding of the 5,000, now that the crowds have been fed, Jesus is trying to get away for some time to rest and pray.

In contrast to the feeding of the 5,000 which is recorded in all four Gospels, today’s account that includes Peter’s brief walk on the water, is recorded only by Matthew. Mark gives us Jesus coming across the sea and calming the storm and John has an even shorter version, but Luke leaves it out altogether.

But only Matthew mentions Peter. And he really is one disciple that it’s hard not to love. He’s enthusiastic and sincere and I think we can all relate to him. Full of faith one minute and then doubting the next. He’s got total confidence in Jesus but also exhibits the human faults that we all know we have. He’s just genuine and we can all relate. Through all his ups and downs, all his great moments and his awful ones, Peter’s heart is right out there on his sleeve. What you see is what you get with Peter. A man who loves Jesus, but also lets him down.

We’ll get back to Peter in a moment, but first let’s set the stage. “When evening came, [Jesus] was there alone, but the boat by this time was a long way from the land, beaten by the waves, for the wind was against them.” Many years ago, before the use of modern weather forecasting aps and websites, I found myself taking an evening catamaran ride on a lake with a friend. We were about a half mile from shore when over the hill on the western side of the lake we noticed the sky turning black. And practically before we could even turn the boat around the storm was on top of us. The temperature dropped significantly. The winds whipped up the waves on the lake and heavy rain made it hard to even see which direction we were supposed to be going. It didn’t take long before that boat was totally upside down and we were clinging to the hull. In that moment I could relate to all the phrases Matthew uses in just a handful of verses to describe what the disciples were experiencing. “Terrified.” “Cried out in fear.” “Afraid.” These are all natural reactions for someone caught in a storm and at the mercy of the wind and the waves.

Fear plays a major role in this account. As the disciples look out to the horizon hoping to find the safety of land, what they see instead is a shadowy figure walking toward them in the midst of the storm. “It is a ghost, …they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying, ‘Take heart, it is I. Do not be afraid.’” And in that moment the voice of the Teacher calms Peter enough for him to consider his own water-walking experience. “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” In my storm on the sea scenario I never even considered that prayer. Honestly, my thoughts were more like, “Lord, if you’re there, please make this storm stop. Please help me to get to shore, somehow, some way.”

But Peter asks to join Jesus on the water. Show me that what you can do, I can do, If only you tell me. Take away my doubt. Make me have faith. And Jesus simply says, “Come.” So, Peter hops out of the boat. I have to imagine that the other disciples are even more fearful now that they’re going to lose their friend. But Peter confidently steps out onto the waves and stands. As long as he remains focused on Jesus, his steps are sure and certain. “But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, ‘Lord, save me.’” Peter cries out and Jesus reaches out. “Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of him.”

And then those words that none of us ever want to hear, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” Yet, those are the very words many of us ask ourselves every day. Why don’t I have more faith? Why don’t I just let go and let God care for me? Why do I doubt sometimes? Why do I feel like I’m sinking every time I experience a setback in life? With everything we experience in this life and with all the difficulty we face it can feel like the storm will never end. And it’s natural for our faith to waver in the storm because the sea is so vast and we’re so small. The storm is so powerful and completely outside of our control.

But we do have faith. Even if it seems small compared to what’s going on around us. Sometimes it’s great and we feel that like Peter we could jump out of the boat and walk right out there on the water. And other times we take our eyes off the only One who can create and strengthen that faith and immediately we become lost. We take a few steps and then need to cry out, “Lord, save me.” And He does. He will. Giving us both His hands and His rebuke, because we need that reminder. “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?”

When we hear those words, we could count ourselves as failures. But can you imagine this account unfolding any other way. What if Peter hadn’t begun to sink? What if he had jumped out of that boat with perfect confidence and focus without any hesitation and walked all the way out to Jesus? And what if the other disciples then did the same, abandoning the boat entirely? That would be a different story. But it wouldn’t be a story about us.

The story about us is more complicated than that. Our truth is that we obey…and we fear. We walk…and we sink. We believe…and we doubt. And it’s not like we do one or the other. We do both. Because faith and doubt aren’t mutually exclusive. They both exist in us at the same time. There’s always tension between that faith and doubt and that’s why we constantly need Jesus. What we know for sure is that the storms of life are going to come. And sometimes they come hard. But we can also be certain that when they do, Jesus is going to walk right up to us in the midst of them and bid us to come to Him for safety and security. And we can also be certain that our weakness will cause us to take our eyes off of Him. And when we do, that’s when we’ll begin to sink.

If we never sank – if we could walk on the water just fine all by ourselves – weathering every storm in life on our own – we wouldn’t need a Savior. Our doubts, overwhelming as they may be at times, remind us of who we are, whose we are, and who we need in our lives. When we sink, as Peter does and as we all do, our Lord reaches out and catches us. He responds with grace to our frailty. But then He also reminds us that we needn’t doubt because He will always be there, as He has always been. And He returns us to the safety and security of the boat.

The boat has always been a symbol of the safety of the church that our Lord set up for us. From the life saving vessel built by Noah to deliver his family from the wrath of God’s destructive power to the boat that Jesus captains as He calms the storm, this is the place where our Lord wants us. Where He protects us. And where He delivers the means of His grace. And where we have the opportunity, along with the disciples in the boat, the saints and angels, and the church of all time “worship him, saying, ‘Truly you are the Son of God.’” Sometimes we do have to step out of the boat at our Lord’s command, but only with our eyes firmly fixed on Him. And with the sure and certain knowledge that when we stumble and when we fall, He’ll be right there to pick us back up again.

Doubts will come. But what if those doubts are meant to serve as the means by which God strengthens the faith He’s given you? Perhaps too often we just splash around in the safe and shallow waters of life. That can be a comforting place to be. But even when that’s where we are we know that sooner or later the storms will come. Instead of lamenting the wind and the waves, try to see them as the means by which God is reminding you that the only way through is to rely on Him. For strength. For security. And most importantly, for salvation. He has given it to you through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. The very same Jesus who walks to you in the midst of the storms of life. The same Jesus who calls you to come out to Him on the wind and the waves. And the very same Jesus who picks you up every single time you lose focus on Him and begin to sink. Remain focused on that truth and He will continue to strengthen your faith, even when you doubt. Please stand and pray with me.

Through the storms of life, O God, You are with us in the person of Your Son, Jesus. Calm any fears which lay heavy on our hearts and strengthen our faith that we may never doubt Jesus’ presence with us but continually proclaim that He is Your Son, risen from the dead, living forever and ever. Amen.

The peace of God which surpasses all understanding guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.