American Values:
Religion and Society in the United States

Carolyn Albert

No Explanation, No Excuse

This is one of my first attempts at sermon writing. I have polished it a bit but left it aminly as it was five years ago to give some background for how my journey has progressed but always been directed by an understadning of the richness of Scripture on many levels, especially those beyond the literal.

There is a huge amount of spiritual mystery embedded in this short sensational story in Matthew's gospel, and there's hardly time to address it all. In searching for how this passage can affect our lives as spiritual beings we must attempt to unearth the nature of this mystery. So I will begin by saying, I don't think the mystery is in the miracle. The mystery is in how divinity and humanity respond to one another when they come into contact and inevitable conflict.

The Greek from which the text was translated leaves ambiguous the events and nature of Jesus' act. The phrase “walking on” can also be translated as “walking toward” and various other nuances of meaning tell us that Jesus may simply have been approaching his friends' boat, drifting too near the shore, though the surf of the storm.

And the disciples' response to this sight of Jesus approaching is understandable, regardless of whether he was in the surf or on the water's surface. Between 3:00 and 6:00 in the morning, a sudden storm has just kicked up- which is no fun on big water in a little boat. In the light of a nearly full moon, the disciples- tired and afraid- see a human figure approaching their boat. I think that the word “terrified” used in this text is wholly appropriate and translates perfectly. What is this ghostly figure outside in the storm? As if there wasn't enough for the disciples to be afraid of. Which gives us an opportunity to mention these “extras” in this little drama. The eleven respond to Jesus' assurance that he is not a ghost, but their friend come to help, by shutting up, sitting down, and waiting for him to arrive.

Peter had to make the scene. He had to have that extra assurance. This is where I begin to identify with Peter. He wants a show- cosmic proof. He tells Jesus to prove that he is himself by calling him out into the dangers of the night storm. Peter is anxious to be a part of the action, which may well be fitting to his role as a leader, but also may bring him into some rough and unknown territory. Beyond revealing his need for some sort of divine display, however, we see another aspect of his character. He knows that Jesus can do what he asks. He knows. Listen to his words. “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” If it's Jesus, then he can come. He states this with as much certainty as a theorem of geometry.

Here's the thing, though. Peter knows this, but he gets distracted. He catches a glimpse of roaring sea foam out of the corner of his eye and “notices the wind.” And that's it for our friend Peter. He sees the storm, and he's afraid to be right in the middle of it. Peter, the Rock, is sinking, fast. I remember how that feels. It took me until I was ten years old to ride a two-wheeled bicycle, and my dad would run behind me….holding on, and I was fine…until I noticed his hand wasn't there any more…until I lost my focus…Then I was down for the count. I would fall and cry for my dad who would come running to kiss my scraped knee. And just as I knew who could help when I lost my concentration and got hurt…so did Peter. Even at this moment, in weakness and failure, he knows onwhom to call: Jesus Christ. And he is saved, immediately, but not without question.

And so we've arrived at the central mystery of the passage. We are faced with the unshakable certainties of the Human and Divine conditions in conflict. God is omnipotent, faithful, ever present in trouble. Humans doubt. Humans screw it up. This clash takes on physical forms in the persons of Peter and Christ, but we must study these events as a metaphor of our own soul's struggle to meet divinity. So Jesus asks, Peter and us, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

And here's the mystery…there's no answer. We don't get to hear Peter respond. Presumably he was't able to respond. I tried to imagine the dialogue that might ahve taken place:.

Jesus: Why did you doubt?

Peter: I was distracted and afraid

Jesus: Why were you distracted and afraid?

Peter: The storm was frightening.

Jesus: Did you not know I was here?

Peter: Yes.

Jesus: Why did you doubt?

Peter: I was distracted and afraid.

Jesus: Why were you distracted and afraid…

There is no resolution! We're running in circles, but hold on … Jesus doesn't wait for an answer! He doesn't want one. How ridiculous is that? Or is it? He doesn't ask the question for his own benefit. He asks it for ours. We must ask ourselves each day what reason we have to doubt, to remind ourselves that there is none. The wind is loud and frightening. The world is a distracting place. The question redirects our focus, realigns that small amount of faith that fits inside the human soul. As soon as we find that focus, there is a hand…it pulls us into the boat, and the storm is gone. And we worship the God who is with us even when we notice the wind and look away.