Why did you doubt? A Meditation on Matthew 14

Over the many years I’ve read and heard this story, it has struck me very differently.  At times, I fixated on the supposed superstitious disciples, on the strange and faltering confidence of St. Peter, of why the disciples were in the boat by themselves to begin with, and why Jesus seemed to tarry while His disciples were in distress.  This week, I see something else.

First, this event occurs immediately after Jesus feeds the 5000 men, plus women and children, through the hands of His disciples.  He has accomplished a great miracle, after having taught and healed the multitude all day long.  In mercy, it would seem, Jesus puts His disciples on a boat, and sends them on ahead of Him, so that He can disperse the crowd and catch up later.  Why the disciples got into that boat without Jesus is still a bit of a mystery to me—but that they were probably physically and emotionally exhausted, combined with Jesus’ command, likely had a lot to do with it.  The disciples end up in a boat headed across the sea, and Jesus stays behind to send everyone home.

After everyone is gone, Jesus finds Himself alone on the mountain, praying.  In His humanity, Jesus could very tangibly feel exhaustion, too.  Now deep in the night, He finds some rest, but He doesn’t remain there long.  Knowing what is happening with His disciples, He begins to walk toward them upon the very sea itself, needing no boat to reach them.  As Creator of the Universe, all the elements of creation are under His authority, and He uses His authority to reach out and care for His disciples.

Out on the sea, the disciples are in deep trouble.  Now in the dark of night, they are fighting both wind and water to reach the other side, but to no avail.  The storm that has them tossed about like a cork, and their exhaustion from the day’s service toward the multitude has probably pushed them to their human limits.  They are lost, in the dark, totally spent, and unable to save themselves.  They are hopeless.

Into their darkness, exhaustion, and despair, comes Jesus.  Whether it is exhaustion or fear that prompts their conclusion, they think the person they see walking on the stormy seas is a spirit—an evil spirit, sent to destroy them.  Ancient folklore is full of mythical creatures sent to destroy the lives of sailors at sea, and the disciples seem just as likely to fall victim to such fears as anyone else.  Besides, if you were that tired and scared, what would you think was walking toward you on the open water?

Jesus attempts to calm their fears immediately, by telling them it is He.  Of course, as broken people, the disciples are initially distrusting—and who wouldn’t be, knowing how deceptive evil spirits can be?  It is here, in this mess of exhaustion, fear, and despair, that St. Peter makes a heroic sacrifice:  he presents a solution to determine if this really is Jesus, or just an evil spirit.  He asks to be invited out on the water, too.

Let that sink in for a moment.  Tired, scared, and lost in the blackness of a roiling sea, St. Peter offers to stand between his friends and this spirit.  If it is not Jesus, St. Peter knows he will drown, but at least the other disciples may be spared from the murderous deception of an evil spirit.  Far from arrogance, Peter is offering to lay down his life for his friends.

Jesus, knowing what is in St. Peter’s heart, invites him out.  Jesus is not patronizing Peter, nor accommodating his pride or exuberance.  Jesus is letting Peter make his sacrifice of love to protect his friends—an act of love that Jesus will be making for all of them, and the whole world, soon enough.  As Peter takes Jesus’ invitation and steps out on the sea, he is probably prepared to drown.  But instead, he stands.

Peter now finds himself standing in the midst of a stormy sea, standing safe and secure by the Word of Christ.  He can see Jesus, and he now knows it is Him, by the power of His Word.  Peter begins to walk toward Jesus, trampling the deadly wind and waves by grace through faith in Christ alone.  Saved from a watery grave, Peter walks toward his Savior.

But somewhere in the midst of this walk by grace through faith, his eyes wander from Jesus.  He begins to focus on the wind and the waves, and his faith is shaken.  Immediately he begins to sink, because there is no way for human beings to receive grace but by faith.  Peter’s watery grave now pulling him down, his last gasping plea to Jesus is, “Lord, save me!”

In this moment of repentance and rekindled faith, the grace of Jesus reaches out and pulls Peter back from the clutches of death.  And to Peter, Jesus asks only, “Why did you doubt?”  Why, beloved Peter, having met and known Jesus, by the power of His Word of Grace trampled death and nature’s fury, are you so soon to forget?  Why do you disbelieve the power of Christ to save you from sin, death, and hell, let alone the creatures of wind and water?

And the same could be asked of us.  Having walked by faith through this world in the grace of our Savior, why do we doubt Him?  Why do we let our eyes wander from our victorious Savior, and fixate on the boisterous belligerence of sin, death, the devil and hell?  We, who have already walked on the sea through our Baptism, have received eternal life through the Body and Blood of Jesus, and have heard our Savior say through His servants’ lips, “I forgive you,” why do we doubt?  Having been made joint heirs with Jesus of the new heavens and the new earth by the work of His Holy Cross and Passion, why does our faith falter in the midst of storms?  It is because we are still weak and beggarly sinners, always in need of our Savior.

As St. Peter and Jesus walked back to the boat in which were the other disciples, Peter had opportunity to meditate on these things, too.  He, like us, was a sinner in need of grace.  He, like us, stepped out in faith, but faltered in the face of the stormy blast.  And he, like us, was saved by Jesus’ grace, when by faith and repentance in the midst of his sinking, cried out to Him, “Lord, save me!”  This is the confidence of the saints in every age, to step out on the storms of life, to trample the devil and hell underfoot, and to walk resolutely even through the valley of the shadow of death.  Here, Jesus is our life, our salvation, and our hope—not just as we begin our journey with Him, but in every step we take, from now through eternity.  It is faith working in love that steps out on the Word of Christ into a turbulent and violent world, and it is faith working in repentance that returns to the Word of Christ when we have become distracted and begin to drown in sin and fear.  And in all these things, it is Christ who reaches out to take hold of us when we cry, “Lord, save me!” even as He gently holds us to Himself and asks, “Dear child, why did you doubt Me?”

Amen.