Who Asked You to Walk on Water?
Matthew 14:22-33
After healing a multitude of people and then miraculously feeding an even bigger multitude of people, Jesus was finally going to get some time to himself. Matthew tells us, “Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray.”
I think it’s safe to say that he had a lot on his mind. He had just learned about the gruesome death of John the Baptist, the prophet who had baptized him, his predecessor in announcing the advent of the reign of God’s justice and mercy which Matthew calls “the kingdom of heaven.” He had spent the day healing people of all kinds of illness and wounds and then miraculously feeding more than 5000 people from five loaves and two fish. And apparently, that’s when he decided it was time to close up shop and send everybody home.
Matthew says “he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side.” The Greek verb here is anagkazo. It means “to compel.” He compelled them to get in the boat and row away. Then he dismissed the crowds. Jesus was determined to have his alone time. Go in peace, y’all. I’ve got an appointment at the top of the hill.
I’m sure the disciples had second thoughts about rowing out onto the lake just as it was getting dark. The Sea of Galilee, also known as Lake Tiberias, also known as Lake Gennesaret, sits about 200 meters below sea level in a warm, semi-tropical basin. Steep hills and plateaus rise sharply above the water and often cool, dry air masses rush down from the heights to collide with the warmer, moister air at the water’s surface. Narrow ravines and wadis act as natural wind tunnels which can significantly increase the speed of descending gusts until they become fierce, water-churning gales. These winds can be especially intense at the north end of the lake which is where the disciples find themselves when Jesus orders them to get into the boat and go on ahead of him.
While Jesus was up on the mountain praying, the night was getting darker and the disciples were getting farther and farther from shore. Then the wind hit them. Matthew says “the wind was against them.” Enantios is the Greek word. It has a sense of intentional opposition. The wind was opposed to them. And it’s not just any wind. It’s amenos, a particularly strong or fierce wind. Matthew tells us that their boat was “battered by the waves” but basanidzo, the Greek verb means “tortured” or “tormented.” So, yeah. The disciples are out on the lake in the dark, unable to make any progress because the wind is almost antagonistically against them and the waves are threatening to tear their boat apart. Good times.
“And early in the morning he came walking toward them on the sea.” That’s how the NRSV translates it which is, frankly worse than useless. The Greek text tells us this happened during the fourth watch of the night. That’s between 3 a.m. and 6 a.m. Still dark. Still scary. “When the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!’ And they cried out in fear.”
Belief in ghosts was widespread in the ancient world, including among the Jews, so it’s not surprising that they think Jesus is a ghost. Besides, who else could walk on water? Must be a ghost. These Galilean fishermen would have known more than a few friends and neighbors who had lost their lives in those waters. On top of that, the sea, in their thinking, was a realm of chaos that harbored demons, malicious spirits, lost spirits and monsters. So whatever or whomever it was they were seeing walking across the water, odds were not good that it would be friendly.
“But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’” Much has been made in some commentaries about the wording of “it is I.” In the Greek the words are ego eimi which is the same wording God uses in the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible, when Moses asks God for God’s name. Ego Eimi. I am who I am. Some think that when Jesus says this to his frightened disciples he is giving them a hint about his divine nature. Because… what—walking on water isn’t enough of a clue? Sarcasm aside, I think those who want to see this wording as Jesus making a statement about his divine nature are reading too much into it because ego eimi is also exactly how one would say, “It’s me.” So when the disciples cry out in fear, Jesus calls back to them and says, “Get a grip and calm down, guys. It’s me.”
And this is where things get strange. Well…stranger. “Peter answered him, ‘Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.’” Oh Peter. Peter, Peter, Peter. What’s going on with you, man? This challenge is so troubling on a number of levels. First, “if it is you” sounds way too much like what the devil said to Jesus during the temptation in the wilderness: “If you really are the son of God…” (Matthew 4:3 and 4:8). There is an echo there, is there not? If it is you… If you really are… It’s a challenge for Jesus to prove himself. Second, Peter clearly has not thought this through. If it is, indeed, a ghost or some malicious spirit, what’s to keep that entity from urging Peter to step out of the boat just so he can plunge to his death? Whoopsie. Finally, Peter’s challenge puts Jesus in a very awkward position. “If it is you” creates a conundrum with no gracious exit. If Jesus does not command Peter to come, to walk across the water to him, if he says, “No, Peter, don’t be an idiot” or even something gentler like “No Peter you’re not ready for that,” there will be a big question in the minds of the disciples about just who it is who is getting in the boat with them after walking across the water. They might even try to prevent him from getting in the boat if they think he has failed the “if it is you” test. Jesus is really left with only one option.
He said, “Come.”
So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus. But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”
The traditional explanation of all this goes something like this: when Jesus commands or asks us to do the impossible we can do it if we just have faith and keep our eyes on Jesus. If we start to sink, Jesus will reach down and save us. This explanation wraps the story in a nice, easily understood package suitable for church and personal use in any number of situations. It also fits nicely with the recurring “you of little faith “ theme in Matthew. Stepping out of the boat to take on a whopping financial obligation for a new building program? Stepping out of the boat by quitting your job so you can start a new business? Don’t let the winds bother you. Keep your eyes on Jesus. Keep your eyes on Jesus and everything will be okay. “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”
Keep your eyes on Jesus really is excellent advice in all circumstances always. But when Jesus says, “you of little faith” what, exactly is he referring to? Is he referring to Peter’s sudden, sinking fear when he realized that he was standing on turbulent water in a heavy wind without his floaties? Or is he referring to Peter’s “if it is you” challenge, the doubt that initiated Peter’s perilous watery stroll that almost sank him?
How many times in life do we get in trouble because we take on something nobody asked us to do? Jesus ordered his disciples to get in the boat. He never asked them to get out of it.
Years ago, in the first parish where I served as pastor there was a man named Wayne who kept taking on jobs that nobody had asked him to do. Wayne was a big, strong, retired older man who was always looking for ways to be of use to the church. He was especially fond of gardening and, since he lived across the street from the church, he was on the church property puttering in the flower beds pretty much all the time. This could have been a nice bonus for the congregation if Wayne had been half as knowledgeable as he thought he was and if he had paid even a little bit of attention to what the church property committee had spent many hours planning in terms of landscape design.
One day Wayne popped into my office to chat and found me sitting in the enclosed garden between my office and the sacristy. He looked around the garden which, admittedly, was due for some attention, then said, “Pastor, why don’t you let me fix up this garden for you. I can make it real nice.” I thanked him for the offer but told him I already had plans for the garden, plans that had been approved by the Council and the Property Committee. He asked me what I had in mind and I told him that I was going to plant some grapevines. My plan was to plant some Syrah vines which I knew would do well there, then later have the Confirmation students harvest the grapes and make wine for communion. It was also part of my plan for them to grind some wheat to make flour then bake bread for communion. I had begun to plan a small communion curriculum around these experiences.
I thought I had made it pretty clear to Wayne that I had a plan for that garden and I really didn’t want him to do anything with that space, so I was completely gobsmacked when I returned home from a continuing education retreat to discover that Wayne had planted grape vines in my office garden. Specifically, he had planted table grapes. Thompson Seedless grapes. Which can’t be used for making wine because they don’t produce enough sugar. Wayne was so proud and happy with what he had done that he couldn’t understand why the pastor and the council president and the property committee and the education committee were less than thrilled by his efforts.
How many times in life do we get in trouble because we take on something nobody asked us to do? Jesus ordered his disciples to get in the boat. He never asked anybody to get out of it.
Image: The Hand of God by Yongsung Kim