Vica-Etta Steel
There is something beautiful in this moment, the disciples on a storm tossed boat suddenly seeing Jesus walking toward them across the waves. Have you taken time to imagine what it would feel like to see your teacher walking to you, on water, unfazed by wave and wind? Would you be so bold as to call on your teacher to welcome you onto the water? Would you not be tempted to doubt what you saw?
Peter is often maligned for not quite getting it, for failing to understand. But I see something else here in Peter. Here. Peter speaks up. Of all the disciples on the boat, it is Peter who speaks. It is Peter who asks for Jesus’ command. It is Peter who steps out of the boat. It is Peter who walks on water.
Peter walks on water.
Peter. Walks. On. Water.
Too often we see Peter’s failure. Do we fail to see Peter’s faith? Peter, standing on water, saw the wind, saw the wave, felt the wonder of where he was. Peter became frightened. Peter began to sink. He sank to the temptation to doubt. But for a moment, Peter’s faith took him out of the boat and onto the water. Exactly how many steps does it take to call it a miracle that Peter walked on water? Is it ten? Five? Is one enough?
I feel every bit of Peter’s temptation to doubt.
I wake up each day to news of new atrocities in Gaza, Palestinian people dying, their homes razed. Are you there God?
I live in community devastated by the murder of a young, queer, two-spirit member of the Choctaw nation in Oklahoma. Say their name – Nex Benedict. How long oh God?
We live in the roiling seas of this life. Do you hear us oh God?
We all have felt the temptations to doubt in our lives. We feel it. I feel it.
But do we feel the miracle also? The miracles of our own steps onto the water? Our own defiant moments of joy, of love, in the vastness of pain? I feel the miracle in long phone calls, hours with dear love, standing together against the pains of this world. I feel it in sitting side by side with new friends. I feel it in long hugs that neither person wants to break. I hear it in the silences with those entering my heart, becoming comfortable through the awkward.
I hear the doubt in Peter. I feel his temptation toward doubt. It is my temptation too. And also, I know the love of Jesus in Jesus’ gentle embrace. Jesus who lifts Peter out of the water. Too often we hear admonishment in Jesus’ response, “You of little faith.” But is it admonishment? Jesus tells us that but little faith, faith the size of a mustard seed, is enough to command a mulberry tree to uproot and walk into the sea (Luke 17:6). That little faith is enough to move mountains (Matt 17:20-21). Peter’s little faith took him onto the water. Little faith is a powerful beginning. Our own little faith is not to be shamed, but exalted. We are tempted toward doubt. We are lifted in faith.
God our loving mother, you know our doubts. You feel our fears. Help us to feel you as you come to us, as you sit beside us, as you bring our heads to rest on your breasts, in your warmth. You give us the blessed dark to welcome our tears and wrap us in love.
