Grace, mercy, and peace be unto you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ!  Amen.  Today’s Gospel lesson is an iconic moment from Jesus’ earthly ministry: the night he walked on water.  Generations of film makers have tried to capture the wonder of this event through CGI and other special effects.  But we are used to Hollywood’s movie magic, and these images do not have the power to astound us anymore.  Our imaginations cannot even bring us close to the amazement that overwhelmed the disciples nearly 2,000 years ago when they witnessed Jesus coming to them on the waves.

Here’s the story in brief: After Jesus’ feeds a multitude of thousands a miraculous meal, he sends away the disciples while he dismisses the crowds.  Then he goes away by himself to pray on a mountain, which is what he had been trying to do all along—to be alone (cp. 14:13).  Yet when he realizes that his disciples are exhausting themselves by rowing against the wind and waves, he graciously goes to aid them in their journey—by walking on the waves!  Yet his appearance terrifies them, and they mistake him for a ghost.  So he calls out to them with words of comfort, “Take heart; it is I.  Do not be afraid” (Matt. 14:27, ESV).[1]

Yet Simon Peter, gruff old fisherman that he is, is not fully convinced.  “Lord,” he says, “if it is you, command me to come to you on the water” (v. 28).  It’s a rather strange request, and Bible scholars debate whether Peter’s actions are praiseworthy or not.  Scripture repeatedly tells us not to put the Lord our God to the test, which is precisely what Peter does here.

Nevertheless, Jesus beckons him, and Peter disembarks from the boat onto the waves.  And—miracle of miracles—he literally walks on water.  The text implies that he even gets to the spot where Jesus stands.  But then he becomes afraid and falls into the water.  (Aside: Things are going swimmingly!)

“Lord, save me!” Peter cries as he begins to drown.  So Jesus saves him.  That’s what Jesus’ name means: the Lord saves.  Jesus is the closest lifeguard and immediately rescues Peter, reaching in and pulling him out.  Then they get into the boat, and the wind ceases.  The astonished disciples don’t know what to make of this man who walks on water and calms the wind—who does what nobody else can do.  So they fall down in worship and cry out, “Truly, you are the Son of God” (v. 33).  Smooth sailing from here on out.

What are we to make of this story?  What does it mean?  How could the disciples be so certain of Jesus’ divine identity?

Throughout history, we have celebrated and marveled at the accomplishments of explorers, adventurers, and athletes: first person to circumnavigate the globe (Ferdinand Magellan), first person to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean (Charles Lindbergh), first person to swim the English channel (Matthew Webb), highest jump, longest jump, fastest mile, fastest marathon, fastest 100-meter dash.

When Neil Armstrong first set foot on the moon, he said, “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”  Yet none of these have walked on water.

I did a little research on the Internet to find out what it would actually like to “walk” on water.  Variables such as weight and foot size are factors in the calculation, but generally, physicists understand that one would need to run at least 67 mph in order to push down hard enough and fast enough on the water surface to propel yourself forward without sinking.  67 miles per hour!  For a bit of perspective, consider that Usain Bolt, the fastest man alive, has only reached a top speed of about 27 mph—less than half the speed required.

Now I must admit to you a little secret.  Yours truly has been able to walk on water… on a lake… in Wisconsin… in January. [Pause for laughter.]  That’s right!  Once the lake freezes over, I have no difficulty at all trekking across the ice.

Here’s my point: nobody can do the things Jesus did.  Nobody in the world has ever walked on water without the aid of flippers or a flotation device.  Nobody has ever given sight to a man born blind (John 9:32).  Nobody else has ever calmed a storm with a word (Mark 4:39).  And nobody else ever has raised to life a man who had been dead for four days (John 11:17, 43-44).  No one can do what Jesus does—except for God.  Calming the wind and sea is even one of the traits of Yahweh given in the Psalms: “He made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed” (Ps. 107:29).  He “stills the roaring of the seas…” (Ps. 65:7; cf. 89:9).  His “path is through the great waters” (Ps. 76:20).  God “alone stretched out the heavens and trampled the waves of the sea” (Job 8:11).  God alone trampled the waves of the sea.  In other words, walking on water is something only God can do—and Jesus did it.  So what does that say about Jesus?  He is divine, God incarnate, God made flesh.  Jesus is the real deal.  “Truly, you are the Son of God.”

Of course, many people just write off this and other Gospel accounts of Jesus’ miracles as fairytales, myths, or legends.  Nobody else can walk on water (or rise from the dead), they reason, so therefore neither could Christ.  Yet, as they say, truth is often stranger than fiction.  This miracle story has just enough of the unexpected, that it sounds more like reality than make-believe.  In other words, if Matthew were making up this story about Jesus walking on water, then he would have written it differently.

For example, if you were making up this story, then you wouldn’t depict the disciples as crying out in fear and alarm at Jesus’ approach.  They wouldn’t mistake him for a ghost.  Instead, they would immediately recognize him and begin to clap, stomp, and shout, “Hurray!” at his coming.  They wouldn’t cower in fear and row away faster.

When you make up a story, you don’t normally cast yourself in a poor light.  No, in fairytales, you want your heroes to appear brave, wise, clever, and strong.  Not until the 20th century did writers disillusioned with our world create accounts of so-called “anti-heroes.”  So for thousands of years throughout history—including the 1st century in which the apostles lived—you always tried to paint your heroes in a positive light.  But in this story, the disciples are fearful and doubting.  Even the boldest of them, Simon Peter, who was the only one willing to step out of the boat (for only God knows what reason!) remained at heart fearful.  For when he “saw the wind,” he took his eyes off Jesus and fell into the water.  Were it not for Jesus’ quick and steady hand, Peter would have drowned.  Nor did Jesus praise Peter for his attempt.  Instead, he gently rebuked him: “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” (Matt. 14:31).

None of the disciples look good in this story—or really any story in the Gospels.  Throughout the Gospels, the apostles are described as petty, impulsive, argumentative, slow to understand, and doubting.  And by the time we get to the cross, every single one of the disciples has either betrayed, abandoned, or denied Jesus.  Not the bit you normally put in your memoirs.

No, the miracles of Jesus have just enough of that strangeness of things that they ring true.  As C.S. Lewis writes in Mere Christianity:

“Reality, in fact, is usually something you could not have guessed. That is one of the reasons I believe Christianity. It is a religion that you could not have guessed. If it offered us just the kind of universe we had always expected, I should feel we were making it up. But, in fact, it is not the sort of thing anyone would have made up. It has just that queer twist about it that real things have.”[2]

 

Hard to argue with old Jack here, don’t you think?  Truth is stranger than fiction.

No, the story of Jesus walking on water is an actual, historical event.  It really happened—literally!  So when we look at the Gospel record of Jesus’ miracles, we cannot but join the rest of the disciples, falling on our knees before him and declaring, “Truly, you are the Son of God!” (cf. Matt. 14:33).

Unfortunately, all of us live at times as though Jesus is not divine, as if he is not true God and true man, as if he is not the Son of God but just another son of man.  For if we truly believed that Jesus is the Son of God, then why would we be afraid when trouble comes, whether it’s cancer or war, famine, fire, or flood?  Why do we look for our salvation in doctors, scientists, and politicians instead of in Christ alone?  Why don’t we believe that “God’s got this”?  If we truly believed that Jesus is the Son of God, then we would not treat Christ and his Word with disdain, forgetting to pray, skipping public worship, and failing to read God’s Word.  Rather than reflecting the wonder of the God-man Jesus, we cower in fear or casually turn away from God in our pursuit of the ordinary things of life.  And if we truly believed that Jesus is the Son of God, then we would never doubt his promises are true.  We would take him at his Word that God loves us, that our sins are forgiven, that we have a hope and a future.

Then we hear his mild rebuke: “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” (Matt. 14:31).

Yes, Jesus Christ, the Son of God, came to save sorry sinners just like us—just like Simon Peter and the rest of the lot.  He sees us drowning in our sin, doubt, and despair.  He reaches out his arms from the cross and pulls us to himself, because he is the greatest lifeguard who ever lived, for he alone can grant eternal life.  “Come,” he says (v. 29).  “Take heart; it is I.  Do not be afraid” (v. 27).

When we find ourselves hand-in-hand with Jesus, all fear ceases, all doubt comes to an end, and all casual disregard is turned into wonder and worship.  Like Peter, we cry out, “Lord, save me!”  And he does.  In Romans 10 we read that “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved” (Rom. 10:13).  Peter called Jesus Lord, and Jesus saved him.

If we believe with our hearts and confess with our mouths that Jesus is Lord, then he will save us also (cf. Rom. 10:10).  Because that’s who Jesus is.  That’s what his name means.  That’s what he does.  The Lord saves.  He saved Peter.  He saved me.  And he will save you, if you just believe the Good News that seems too good to be true, and yet it is true.  Because the Gospel truth is stranger than fiction—and so much better.  In the name of the Father and of the Son and of T the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

[1] All Scripture references, unless otherwise indicated, are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version.

[2] C.S. Lewis, “The Invasion,” chapter 2 in Mere Christianity, 36.