Matthew 14:22-33
Yesterday, some members of our two parishes gathered at Trinity Episcopal Church in Arrington to take part in an ancient mode of prayer. On Trinity’s beautiful campus, set a little apart from their cemetery, is a labyrinth, a circuitous path laid in the ground for the purpose of prayerful walking. Those who have attended the Spiritual Practices class can tell you that the difference between a labyrinth and a maze is the number of entrances, and the presence of dead ends. A maze is meant to confuse, to challenge, and so there are dead ends and false starts and an unclear traffic pattern. Labyrinths, by contrast, are meant to help us focus, to give our bodies a sense of direction that doesn’t require too much conscious thought. They only have one entrance, and the exact same path is used on the way in as on the way out. Theoretically, following the winding circles of the labyrinth should be easy, almost automatic. But, as some of us learned yesterday, we can still get lost from time to time.
The labyrinth at Trinity is beautiful, and in a lovely place. It was assembled with love and care, and it has clearly been walked by many pilgrims. And, it is outdoors and exposed to the elements. There are branches and sticks and leaves from the trees that surround and shelter it. Some errand weeds and grass grow up in the paths, and the bricks that mark the pathways have eroded or been buried under gravel over time. The way forward is not always clear, and several of us got turned around at the same few spots. Some of us chose to take up the path again where it was clear, and others chose to retrace their steps. Some of us ended up missing an entire quadrant of the labyrinth, while others just found ourselves taking a slightly different path than those around us. Even though we were in a peaceful, relatively quiet and secluded place, we got lost.
I think I’m not saying too much to say that, for those of us who did get a little lost, it was frustrating. Maybe not as scary as getting lost in a strange city or as risky as missing a turn on an unfamiliar route, but it wasn’t exactly a good feeling to stand puzzling in the sun over a faint line in the gravel. Because we were a group, we could see where our journey was headed, and get back on track with the help of fellow pilgrims. We could stop and scratch our heads until another traveler pointed out the turn we missed, or encouraged us to re-enter the path at a different point and carry on. Getting stuck, feeling untethered and directionless, is uncomfortable at best. Still, it happens to us all, and more often than not, we need someone else to help us find our way back.
When the disciples found themselves in a storm-tossed sea far from shore, they weren’t exactly lost, but they were definitely stuck. I don’t know how many of you have been in an engine-less boat on choppy waters, but I can say from my rowing days that it can be frustrating, and more than a little scary, even when you can see the shore. Many of the disciples were fishermen and seasoned sailors, so it must have been some storm for so much fear to permeate this story. Even in a familiar element, their nerves were frayed and their minds more than a little scrambled. They were far from land, the waves were battering their little boat, the wind was so strong it made their eyes water, and somehow suddenly this person was just strolling toward them as if across a field of soft grass. No wonder they thought Jesus was a ghost!
It tells us something important about his faith that Peter told Jesus to prove his identity by defying the laws of physics. Yes, it was ill-advised for Peter to put Jesus to the test this way, it was a big gamble and it has been interpreted as reckless and foolhardy and rash. And, the proof that Peter required is something only God can do. Before Peter ever called Jesus his Lord, before he ever understood the full magnitude of what Jesus can do, Peter walked on water. Before he knew it in his mind and said it in so many words, Peter understood in his heart that Jesus can do impossible things, and that Peter himself could do impossible things through Jesus. Peter stepped out of the boat. Peter was the only human being besides God incarnate to walk on water, and he did it because he was afraid.
Peter was afraid well before he took that step out of the boat. Like his fellow disciples, Peter was anxious in the storm, and terrified of the apparition on the waves. At least some part of him probably felt fear in that first uncomfortable drop from the deck to the surface of the water. Peter took those wobbly steps toward Jesus because he was afraid of the alternative, afraid like his friends of the possibility that this specter was not their teacher, but something terrifying and alien. In the midst of fear and crashing waves and battering winds, Peter broke the laws of nature in a few steps. And then he began to sink.
Peter did not sink because he was evil, or foolhardy, or faithless. Peter would not have been on that water at all if he had no faith. Not only would Peter never have taken those steps out of the boat without his faith, he never would have been in that particular boat in the first place if he did not believe in the message Jesus brought. Peter sank because people tend to do that when they’re panicking while in a body of water. Any lifeguard will tell you that pulling someone out of the water when they’re frightened and thrashing is more dangerous than the water itself. Peter took a few steps, but then he lost sight of the path, and he got stuck. It happens to the best of us.
Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him. And just like that, unstuck, no longer sinking, no longer lost. Panting and frantic, probably, a little worse for wear, but Peter was back on board and back on track. Notice that it wasn’t something Peter did or didn’t do that saved him. Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him. Jesus did the water-walking, Jesus did the physics-defying, Jesus did the reaching and the catching and the storm-ceasing. It was never dependent on Peter’s beliefs or the strength of his character or the size of his faith. It never is. Jesus, not us, makes the path and guides us onto it when we veer off or get lost or miss a turn. Our faith is always as strong and as fragile as the surface tension of water. Most of the time, most of us are those of little faith, taking it one small step at a time. But just a little faith can move mountains. Just a little faith can grow into something big and wide reaching and life-giving. Just a little faith is enough to step onto the path where Jesus leads the way. Blessed are we of little faith, for Jesus will always be there to catch us.
Mother A Writes 