NINETEENTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME A

[cappie]

Today, in Matthew 14, we find Jesus’ disciples terrified on the Sea of Galilee. It’s certainly not the first time.  Today, however, it’s not the weather that frightens the disciples. By now, they can handle being tossed about by strong winds and waves. Been there, done that. No, today they are frightened by something else—a figure walking toward them on the surface of the sea. “It’s a ghost!” they cry, but Jesus reassures them. “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”

These words do not satisfy Peter, who seeks further proof of Jesus’ identity. “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” Jesus agrees, and so, Peter does. But after just a few steps, the wind startles him and he begins to sink, crying, “Lord, save me!” Of course, Jesus does save him, but he also asks him this sobering question: “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

So, why do we doubt? Jesus calmed a storm with his voice, fed five thousand people with only a few loaves of bread, and walked on water. In light of all this, why would we ever lack faith?

One answer is fear. Like the disciples, sometimes storms pop up in our lives and scare us half to death. That’s what storms do.  

But it’s not just wind and rainstorms that scare us; so do the metaphorical storms of our lives. Things like global pandemics, contentious election cycles, horrifying diagnoses, economic downturns can shake us to the core. In the midst of difficult setbacks like these, it’s not uncommon for anyone to doubt their faith in God. That’s exactly what happened to Peter in today’s gospel. All Jesus does is ask why. Like any good teacher, he already knows the answer to the question, but he wants us to know it, too.

Simply put, fear is, quite literally, instinctual. Humans are wired with a fight-or-flight response. We have this reflex for a reason. When our lives are in jeopardy or when our identity is threatened, we are naturally inclined to react. When that happens, we tend to leave calm, rational thought behind. For that reason, we often need some assistance getting back to a more faithful frame of mind.

Jesus is not asking his question, “Why did you doubt?” to shame Peter. Instead, he uses the question to get Peter to focus on what’s most important. And in the realm of life’s storms, faith is more important than safety. Faith is the foundation of human life, as important as food, water, and shelter. Only after faith is secured can safety add value to living. This is the message of the Cross. This is the message of Jesus’ whole life. And faith is what Jesus wants Peter—and all of us—to focus on when storms come.

Jesus’ question prompts us to realize that faith is always within our reach. Even in the stormiest times of life, when we most doubt our ability to make it through, we can remain faithful to God. Staying faithful to God means for us, just like Peter, refocusing on our commitment to faith.

We will not always be perfectly faithful. Doubts will creep in, but the important thing is to recover from those doubts and return to a place of faith. Our faith is strengthened and sustained by our relationship with God and nurtured by participating in our life in Christ through things like reading scripture, praying, and attending Mass.  

Repent and recommit: This is the nature of the Christian life. Peter is a prime example of what it means to live a life of holy imperfection. He has misunderstood before, and he will misunderstand—and even deny—again. But today, we see him refocusing on faith (with a little help from Jesus, of course). Watching his journey reminds us of our journey, a journey on which we can—and should—choose faithfulness. And a journey on which we, just like Peter, repent, recommit, and refocus on a faithfulness that comes from the knowledge and love of Jesus, through whom we have experienced the grace of God time and time again.