Matthew 14:22-33 - This Is Us - August 23, 2020

This Is Us is a popular television drama on NBC where the entire premise of the show is that anyone and everyone can relate to the situations the characters face. You’re led to laugh with them and cry with them, suffer with them and triumph with them, etc. You may have never seen the show and you may or may not agree with how effective that premise is, but that’s not important. What is important is that as we study this text, we see that this is us.

This story takes place immediately after Jesus had fed the five thousand (Matthew 14:13-21). Having done something impossible, Jesus now does something seemingly irresponsible – he forces his disciples to set sail on the Sea of Galilee as night is falling and a storm is gathering on the horizon. Why? I can find two reasons. First, to a certain extent, Jesus was protecting his disciples from the popular sentiment of the crowds. Having had their bellies filled for free, they were hungry for more; they were ready to make Jesus their bread king by force (John 6:15). And Jesus knew how tempting achieving that kind of political power and prestige would be to his disciples – and so he made them get into the boat and go to the other side of the Sea. The second reason is given in Mark: they had not understood about the loaves. Instead, their hearts were hardened (Mark 6:52) – they still didn’t understand that the feeding of the five thousand wasn’t just about feeding the hungry but about proving his identity and power. But they still didn’t get it and so Jesus sends them to school in a boat on a storm tossed sea.

This is us. The Bible is clear that the Lord frequently leads believers into scary, dangerous, troubling situations – situations we wouldn’t normally put ourselves into. Think of Joseph or Job or Moses (Genesis 45:8; Job 42:11; Exodus 3). These storms occur at every stage of life, don’t they? Even our young children today are facing a storm – the storm of being forbidden to attend school in person and forced to try to learn virtually. When Christians reach college, they face storms on at least two fronts: the immorality of their classmates and the antagonism of their unbelieving professors. The young couple who comes to the clinic with joyful hearts to see their child’s first ultrasound who leave with hearts broken by the news that their daughter will be born with a birth defect. The father who has lost his job due to the coronavirus and can’t see how he can keep paying the mortgage. Or person who hears the doctor sigh and say, “There’s nothing else we can do. You have three to sixth months to get your things in order.” Now, many may argue that God can’t really be behind these hard, troubling times, these storms of life. But if we truly believe what Scripture says: that the Lord has determined the appointed times and the boundaries where [we] would live (Acts 17:26) – then we must confess that our Lord is responsible for sending us to school in the stormy seas of life, too. This is us.

At the same time, the disciples aren’t helpless. They weren’t in a dinky canoe, they were in a boat designed to weather the storms on the Sea of Galilee. At least four of them were experienced commercial fishermen who knew how to handle a vessel in rough seas. And here’s the thing, Matthew makes it crystal clear that it wasn’t the wind and the waves or even their lack of progress that caused them to be terrified and [cry] out in fear. It was the fact that someone was walking on the water combined with the knowledge that humans can’t walk on water. Jesus was the source of their fear. They were suffering from a lack of recognition.

This is us. There are many storms of life that we feel fully qualified to handle – even if we wouldn’t necessarily seek to handle them. We can usually deal with a sick child, a couple days or weeks of furlough, a few more months of “virtual” school, another round of cancer treatment, even the death of a loved one – just as long as they come at us one at a time. It’s when they storm on us all at once that we become overwhelmed. And, it’s often at those moments that we don’t recognize Jesus coming to us – walking calmly over the stormy seas to save us. It’s at those times when we can actually be afraid of him – because instead of recognizing our good and gracious Savior we see a mysterious and shadowy figure. And when we don’t recognize who Jesus is and what he can do – that’s when we are in the greatest danger of sinking.  

The disciples failed to recognize who Jesus is and what he is able to do. But having seen the power of his miracles, they had no excuse. Neither do we. We too have witnessed the power of Jesus calmly walking over the storms of life, coming to us week after week in the means of grace. He has revealed his identity and his power to us, too. He shows us that he can do the impossible; like create everything from nothing (John 1:3), be born of a virgin (Luke 1:31, 34-35), live a perfect life (Hebrews 4:15), die for the sins of the world (1 John 2:2) and rise again to life (Romans 1:4). No mere man can do these things. We have no excuse for doubting, for failing to recognize Jesus as he comes to us miraculously through the Word and Sacraments.  

But we still do, don’t we? We still fail to recognize Jesus and doubt his power and presence. Sometimes it’s because we think we can handle the storms of life on our own and don’t believe we really need Jesus’ help. Sometimes it’s that we really are overwhelmed, but we don’t think that Jesus’ presence in Word and Sacrament will really help; that they seem powerless compared to the very real storms of life. Does the water of baptism – which promises life – ever seem to be no match for the personal, professional, medical, financial, spiritual or emotional storms we face? Do the words of Absolution ever seem as powerless to silence your accusing conscience as any of the other remedies you’ve tried? Does Holy Communion ever seem to be nothing more than a placebo which only works if you think it will work?  

What should we do when we come to those dangerous intersections of fear, doubt and faith? How should we react? Well, how did Peter react? The question is whether we should translate the first word of Peter’s question (εἰ) as “if” or “since.” Grammatically, it could go either way. Let’s go with “if” for a moment. Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water. That’s a pretty weak start, isn’t it? Why is there any doubt in Peter’s mind? Not only has he witnessed the feeding of the five thousand, not only is he standing there on top of the water, but Jesus has just told him It is I (which is an allusion to the Lord’s identification of himself in the Old Testament as I am (Exodus 3:6, 14)).

Is this us? Do we doubt and question Jesus’ presence, power and love until he proves himself? Jesus says that only an evil and adulterous generation seeks a sign (Matthew 16:4) – but don’t we frequently expect one anyway? “Jesus, if you really do create faith and new life through the water of Baptism, then prove it by bringing my wandering children back into the fold.” “Jesus, if it really is your voice speaking in Absolution, then prove it by taking away the painful consequences of my sin.” “Jesus, if your body and blood really are the medicine of immortality, if they are powerful to heal body and soul, then take this chronic pain, this debilitating disease from me.” It’s a sin to put God to the test (Deuteronomy 6:16). But when we say with Peter “Lord, if it is you,” that’s exactly what we’re doing.  

Is “since” any better? Let’s try that out. “Since” means that Peter does believe that this ghostly figure on the water really is Jesus, the Son of God. With “since” Peter is demonstrating his characteristic impulsiveness that puts him before the other disciples and almost always ends badly for him. Remember, Peter was the first to boldly confess that Jesus is the Christ (Matthew 16:16) but only moments later Jesus tells him to get behind me, Satan (Matthew 16:23). He’s the first to pledge that he would never deny Jesus (Matthew 26:33), and he’s the only one to deny him three times (Matthew 26:69-75). And here? Well, here Peter’s bold faith worked just fine right up until he took his eyes off of Jesus and became distracted by the winds and the waves.

Is this us? Do we rush out those doors strong in faith and forceful in prayer? Are we convinced that “since” we believe Jesus is the Son of God, that he can do whatever we want whenever we want? “Jesus, since I believe it is you, I know you are in control and I won’t become distracted or frustrated by the political madness, the lawlessness and lovelessness I see in the world.” “Jesus, since I believe it is your Word connected with water in Baptism I won’t ever doubt my place in the Father’s family.” “Jesus, since I believe it is your voice in the absolution, I will no longer be enslaved to sin.” “Jesus, since I believe it is your crucified and resurrected body and blood that I receive in Communion, I will never fear pain or disease or death.” But it doesn’t take long for the storms of life to rattle even the boldest believer to the core. “Since” I believe is not a firm foundation to build on. It’s faith in faith. And, like Peter, when our faith is in our faith, we will quickly sink when the storms of life arise.

This is us – perpetually wavering between “if” and “since”; between doubt and boldness. Whether you are saying “if” or “since” when it comes to Jesus’ presence in your life through Word and Sacrament, you’re looking in the wrong direction. When you’re looking for proof in your outward circumstances or strength inside yourself – you’re, by definition, not looking to the object of your faith. That was Peter’s problem; that’s why he sank. That’s what Jesus meant when he said you of little faith, why did you doubt? Peter’s faith wasn’t little because it wasn’t bold enough – why else would he dare to step out of a perfectly good boat? No, Peter’s faith was little because he doubted the power of Jesus’ one word of promise: come. Jesus had become “little” in his mind.

The good news is that, taken as a whole, this miracle directs us away from looking either outside or inside ourselves, away from asking either “if” or “since.” The climax of this miracle is not Jesus forcing his disciples into the boat – or forcing us into the storms of life; it’s not Jesus leaving them alone for eight hours – or leaving us alone for what may seem like eight weeks, months or years; it’s not even Jesus’ walking on the water – or his real, miraculous, coming to us in Word and Sacrament. No, the good news, the climax, the take-away from this miracle is that the moment Peter cried out Lord, save me!, Jesus stretched out his hand and saved him.

This is us! Whether Peter meant “if” or “since,” had he not gotten out of the boat, he never would have cried out Lord, save me! (Which is the purest, strongest proclamation of faith possible!) He never would have personally experienced his own weakness and his Savior’s power and love. It was not until Jesus forced him to face a stormy night on the sea and invited him to step out on the water, and let him sink into the waves that Peter’s faith was focused where it needed to be the whole time: on Jesus. Only by allowing Peter to realize the weakness of his faith and to despair of himself was Jesus able to strengthen his faith in the power of his Word. Because if Jesus says it, it’s as good as done; it cannot and will not fail. When the storms of life hit, don’t look at your outward circumstances, don’t look inside for strength – instead lock your eyes on Jesus and his Word, which are the source of strength that can do impossible things.

We may or may not be able to see this play out in our lives like we can in Peter’s. But this is us anyway. We don’t need to understand why the Lord forces us into situations in which every wind of life seems to be against us. We only need to know that Jesus put us in that boat, he knows where we are, and he is with us the whole time – even when we don’t recognize him. We don’t need to understand how Jesus can come to us in Word and Sacrament just as the disciples didn’t need to understand how he could walk on water. We just need to take him at his word when he says It is I! We don’t need to fret about getting out of the perpetual cycle between “if” and “since” – we only need to see and believe that it’s not what we see around us or inside us that saves us but the hand of Jesus. In the end, if this were a TV show, we’d have to rename it. This isn’t about us. This is about Jesus, the true Son of God, whom we worship. Amen.