Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

August 9, 2020 Readings: 1 Kgs 19:9a, 11-13a; Rom 9:1-5; Matt 14:22-33 Link to Lectionary

Last week we had a large scale miracle – the feeding of thousands. This week we have a miracle at the opposite end of the scale – only a few disciples are involved. Miracles in some way show the power of Jesus. But that power comes in many different shapes and sizes.

In the case of the feeding Matthew doesn’t provide any commentary or description of reactions from anyone. The event stands on its own. This week we get a much more personal view from the perspective of the disciples and particularly of Peter.

In that sense we have more to go on with today’s miracle when it comes to uncovering what it means for us. However, on the flip side as it were, it’s not so easy to figure out what to make of it. Feeding is somewhat obvious, regardless of whether we see it as reflection of Jesus’ power over food or people. Walking on water, not so much – what is that all about, and why does Jesus set up this situation (which he clearly does – he tells the disciples to go ahead, he waits until the storm happens, he walks out on the water, scaring the heck out of them).

It would be very natural for us to start by thinking – ok so what exactly happened? Did Jesus actually walk on the water? How deep was it? And quickly we get lost in the mechanics of what was going on. Here we do need to step back and recognize that our view of miracles (as “modern”, scientific, women and men) has almost nothing in common with the people of Jesus’ time. For them almost everything in life was a mystery – why it rained, how the sun moved, why people got sick, why seeds grew, and so on. We are used to, and expect, a life in which things are explained, or at least are explicable. Miracles are reserved to those few rare situations in which we don’t have an “explanation”. I suggest if we want to get the value from these accounts of miracles we need to put our expectations and preconceptions about explanations firmly to one side. We need to focus not on the how and the what, but the why? Why are we given this story? What point is the evangelist, and by extension, Jesus trying to make?

If it were just that Jesus, the Son of God, can walk on water that would be “ok but so what”. Sure he can walk on water. But what does that mean to (or for) me?

The first “why” answer we can find is in regard of the evangelist’s perspective. This is if you like a more theological perspective. The evangelist picks out this story because it demonstrates the power of Jesus as equivalent to the power of God. God has power over the water – from the story of creation, to giving Moses the power to strike the rock and get water for the thirsty Israelites in the desert, to parting the Red Sea, to Jonah in the ocean, and many other examples. This is why Matthew notes that the disciples ‘did him homage, saying, “Truly, you are the Son of God.” Interestingly Mark, in his exactly parallel account of this miracle, draws an utterly different conclusion: “They were astounded. They had not understood the incident of the loaves. On the contrary, their hearts were hardened.” Which goes to show that there have always been many ways in which to read the significance of Jesus’ life and actions – so we can relax faced with ambiguity and alternatives in reading scripture.

But let’s drill further into Matthew’s account. Matthew often uses the same material as Mark, but also seems to have access to additional sources focused on St Peter. This account is an example. And it is the miracle within the miracle which perhaps gives us something to which we can relate most closely.

I guess we have all faced the situation in which we set out to do something challenging and suddenly find ourselves hit with that “oh no, can I do this” – crudely known as the “oh sh**” moment. For me I’ve noticed this particularly in relation to being around heights. That’s something that never used to bother me but it now does (one of those “getting older” things I admit). The sense of discomfort followed by a sense of panic if I get too close to an edge is very striking – and I understand those who have always felt this and may react with a “well, duh…..”

At a more serious level there is that feeling we experience when we hear a bad diagnosis for ourselves or someone we are close to. We may have been coping ok with the fear or uncertainty, but there is a sudden drop in the stomach when we get some definite bad news.

It seems to me that this parallels closely the sensations Peter felt. He displays his usual gung-ho, ‘I can do this’ character, in stepping out of the boat, also to be faced with that moment of doubt and the (literal) sinking feeling.

That is the moment at which Jesus is there for us.

Is this what Matthew had in mind when writing this passage? I have no idea, but I suspect not. I suspect I’m drawing on a modern view of psychology that would have been foreign to him. But that’s not a problem. Just as Mark and Matthew drew different significance from the event they described, so we are challenged to find a significance for ourselves. And however we express that significance it connects back to the common foundation of an all-powerful God, made visible to us in Jesus, who is with us at the moment when we most need him.