Scott Hahn with David Scott
How do we find God in the storms and struggles of our lives, in the trials we encounter in trying to do His will? God commands Elijah in this week’s First Reading to stand on the mountain and await His passing by.
And in the Gospel, Jesus makes the disciples set out across the waters to meet Him. In each case, the Lord makes himself present amid frightening tumult—heavy winds and high waves, fire and earthquakes.
Elijah hides his face. Perhaps he remembers Moses, who met God on the same mountain, also amid fire, thunder, and smoke (see Deuteronomy 4:10-15; Exodus 19:17-19).
God told Moses no one could see His face and live, and He sheltered Moses in the hollow of a rock, as He shelters Elijah in a cave (see Exodus 33:18-23).
The disciples, likewise, are too terrified to look on the face of God. The Gospel this week is a revelation of Jesus’ divine identity. Only God treads across the crest of the sea (see Job 9:8) and rules the raging waters (see Psalm 89:9-10).
And the words of assurance that Jesus speaks—“It is I”—are those God used to identify himself to Moses (see Exodus 3:14; Isaiah 43:10).
Even Peter is too overcome by fear to imitate his Lord. His fears, Jesus tells him, are a sign of his lack of faith. And so it often is with us. Our fears make us doubt, make it hard to see His glory dwelling in our midst.
Yet, we should know, as we sing in Sunday’s Psalm, that His salvation is near to those who hope in Him. By faith we should know, as Paul asserts in the Epistle, that we are heirs to the promises made to His children, Israel.
We must trust that He whispers to us in the trials of our lives—that He who has called us to walk along the way of His steps, will save us whenever we begin to sink.
Origen (c.185-253)
Commentary on St Matthew’s Gospel, (11,6; PG 13,919)
When we have stood firm during the long watches of the dark night that rules over our time of testing; after we have struggled as best we may…, then let us be assured that towards night’s close, “when the night is advanced and the day is at hand” (Rom 13,12), the Son of God will come to us, walking on the waves. When we see him appearing like this, we will be seized with doubt until at last we clearly understand that it is the Lord who has thus come among us. Still thinking we are seeing a ghost, we will cry out in fear, but at once he will say to us: “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.”
It is possible that these reassuring words will cause a Peter aiming at perfection to rise up within us, who will get out of the boat, sure he has escaped the trial that was tossing him about. To begin with, his wish to meet up with Jesus will enable him to walk on the water. But since his faith is still shaky and he himself is unsure, he notices “how strong the wind was”, becomes frightened, and begins to sink.
Still, he escapes this misfortune because he directs this great cry towards Jesus: “Lord, save me!” And scarcely has this other Peter finished saying “Lord, save me!” than the Word stretches out his hand to help him. He catches him just as he begins to drown, reproaching him for his little faith and doubt. However, take note that he did not say: “Unbelieving” but “man of little faith”, and that it is written: “Why did you doubt?”, which is to say: “It is true you have a little faith, but you let yourself be pulled in the opposite direction.” And immediately, Jesus and Peter will get into the boat again, the wind will die down, and the others in the boat will do him homage, saying: “Truly, you are the Son of God.” But only those disciples close to Jesus in the boat spoke such words as these.
St. John Chrysostom
Homilies on Saint Matthew’s Gospel, 50, 1-2
Once again the disciples are a plaything of the waves and a storm rather like the first one (Mt 8,24) hurls itself against them. The first time, however, they had Jesus with them, whereas this time they are alone and left to themselves… I think this was because our Savior wanted to stir their sleeping hearts and, by throwing them into a panic, he inspired in them a strong desire for his presence and kept the remembrance of him constantly in their mind. Hence he did not come to their help at once but «during the fourth watch of the night he came towards them, walking on the sea»…
Peter, ever ebullient, always getting in before the other disciples, says: “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water”… He didn’t say, “Command me to walk on the water” but to “come to you”, for there was none who loved Jesus so much as he. He did the same thing after the resurrection: unable to bear moving as slowly as the others in the boat, he jumped into the water to get there before them and satisfy his love for Christ…
Getting out of the boat, then, Peter went towards Jesus, more delighted to be going towards him than to be walking on the water. But after confronting the greatest danger, that of the sea, he was to give in to a lesser, that of the wind. Such is human nature! Often, having overcome serious dangers we are conquered by lesser ones… Peter had not yet been set free from all his fear… in spite of Christ’s presence beside him. For it is of no use to be beside Christ if one is not close to him by faith. This is what emphasizes the distance separating master from the disciple…
“O man of little faith, why did you doubt?” So if Peter’s faith had not faltered he would have resisted the wind without difficulty. And the proof of this is that Jesus grasped Peter while leaving the wind to blow… Just as the mother bird supports with her wings, as it is about to fall, the fledgling that has prematurely left the nest and draws it back into the nest, so does Christ with regard to Peter.
Pope Benedict XVI
Homily, May 8, 2011
The Gospel of the Third Sunday of Easter — which we have just heard — presents the episode of the disciples of Emmaus (cf. Lk 24:13-35), an account that never ceases to astonish and move us. This episode shows the effects that the Risen Jesus works in two disciples: conversion from despair to hope; conversion from sorrow to joy; and also conversion to community life.
Sometimes, when we speak of conversion we think solely of its demanding aspect of detachment and renunciation. Christian conversion, on the contrary, is also and above all about joy, hope and love. It is always the work of the Risen Christ, the Lord of life who has obtained this grace for us through his Passion and communicates it to us by virtue of his Resurrection. …
It is thus necessary for each and every one of us to let ourselves be taught by Jesus, as the two disciples of Emmaus were: first of all by listening to and loving the word of God read in the light of the Paschal Mystery, so that it may warm our hearts and illumine our minds helping us to interpret the events of life and give them meaning. Then it is necessary to sit at table with the Lord, to share the banquet with him, so that his humble presence in the Sacrament of his Body and Blood may restore to us the gaze of faith, in order to see everything and everyone with God’s eyes, in the light of his love.
Staying with Jesus who has stayed with us, assimilating his lifestyle, choosing with him the logic of communion with each other, of solidarity and of sharing. The Eucharist is the maximum expression of the gift which Jesus makes of himself and is a constant invitation to live our lives in the Eucharistic logic, as a gift to God and to others.
The Gospel also mentions that after recognizing Jesus in the breaking of the bread, the two disciples “rose that same hour and returned to Jerusalem” (Lk 24:33). They felt the need to return to Jerusalem and to tell of their extraordinary experience: the encounter with the Risen Lord. A great effort must be made so that every Christianmay be transformed into a witness … ready to proclaim vigorously and joyfully the event of Christ’s death and Resurrection.
Even a traditionally Catholic people can feel negatively or assimilate almost unconsciously the repercussions of a culture that ends by insinuating a mentality in which the Gospel message is openly rejected or subtly hindered. I know that you have made and are making a considerable effort to defend the eternal values of the Christian faith.
I encourage you never to give in to the recurring temptations of the hedonistic culture and to the appeal of materialistic consumerism. Accept the invitation of the Apostle Peter, contained in today’s Second Reading, to conduct yourselves “with fear throughout the time of your exile” here below (1 Pt 1:17); an invitation that is put into practice by living intensely on the thoroughfares of our world in the awareness of the destination to be reached: unity with God, in the Crucified and Risen Christ.
In fact, our faith and our hope are addressed to God (cf. 1 Pt 1:21): they are addressed to God because they are rooted in him, founded on his love and on his fidelity. In past centuries, your Churches knew a rich tradition of holiness and of generous service to the brethren, thanks to the work of zealous priests and men and women religious of both active and contemplative life.
If we wish to listen to their spiritual teaching it is not difficult for us to recognize the personal and unmistakable appeal that they address to us: Be holy! Make Christ the centre of your lives! Build the edifice of your existence on him! In Jesus you will find the strength to open yourselves to others and to make yourselves, after his example, a gift for the whole of humanity.
Pope Benedict XVI
Angelus Address, August 7, 2011
In this Sunday’s Gospel we find Jesus who, after withdrawing to the mountain, prays throughout the night. The Lord, having distanced himself from the people and the disciples, manifests his communion with the Father and the need to pray in solitude, far from the commotion of the world.
This distancing, however, must not be seen as a lack of interest in individuals or trust in the Apostles. On the contrary, Matthew recounts, Jesus made the disciples get into the boat, “and go before him to the other side” (Mt 14:22), where he would see them again. In the meantime the boat “was many furlongs distant from the land, beaten by the waves; for the wind was against them” (v. 24). And so in the fourth watch of the night [Jesus] came to them, walking on the sea” (v. 25); the disciples were terrified, mistaking him for a ghost and “cried out for fear” (v. 26). They did not recognize him, they did not realize that it was the Lord.
Nonetheless Jesus reassured them: “Take heart, it is I; have no fear” (v. 27). This is an episode from which the Fathers of the Church drew a great wealth of meaning. The sea symbolizes this life and the instability of the visible world; the storm points to every kind of trial or difficulty that oppresses human beings. The boat, instead, represents the Church, built by Christ and steered by the Apostles.
Jesus wanted to teach the disciples to bear life’s adversities courageously, trusting in God, in the One who revealed himself to the Prophet Elijah on Mount Horeb “in a still small voice” [the whispering of a gentle breeze] (1 Kings 19:12).
The passage then continues with the action of the Apostle Peter, who, moved by an impulse of love for the Teacher, asks him to bid him to come to him, walking on the water. “But when he saw the wind [was strong], [Peter] was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!'” (Mt 14:30).
St Augustine, imagining that he was addressing the Apostle, commented: the Lord “leaned down and took you by the hand. With your strength alone you cannot rise. Hold tight to the hand of the One who reaches down to you” (En. in Ps. 95, 7: PL 36, 1233), and he did not say this to Peter alone but also to us.
Peter walks on the water, not by his own effort but rather through divine grace in which he believes. And when he was smitten by doubt, when he no longer fixed his gaze on Jesus but was frightened by the gale, when he failed to put full trust in the Teacher’s words, it means that he was interiorly distancing himself from the Teacher and so risked sinking in the sea of life.
So it is also for us: if we look only at ourselves we become dependent on the winds and can no longer pass through storms on the waters of life. The great thinker Romano Guardini wrote that the Lord “is always close, being at the root of our being. Yet we must experience our relationship with God between the poles of distance and closeness. By closeness we are strengthened, by distance we are put to the test” (Accettare se stessi, Brescia 1992, 71).
Dear friends, the experience of the Prophet Elijah who heard God passing and the troubled faith of the Apostle Peter enable us to understand that even before we seek the Lord or invoke him, it is he himself who comes to meet us, who lowers Heaven to stretch out his hand to us and raise us to his heights; all he expects of us is that we trust totally in him, that we really take hold of his hand.
Let us call on the Virgin Mary, model of total entrustment to God, so that amidst the plethora of anxieties, problems and difficulties which churn up the sea of our life, may our hearts resonate with the reassuring words of Jesus who also says to us “Take heart, it is I; have no fear!”; and may our faith in him grow.
Pope Benedict XVI
Angelus Address, August 10, 2008
This Sunday’s Gospel brings us back from this place of rest to daily life. It tells how, after the multiplication of the loaves, the Lord withdraws to the mountain to be alone with the Father. In the meantime, the disciples are on the lake and with their poor little boat are endeavouring in vain to stand up to a contrary wind.
To the Evangelist this episode may have seemed an image of the Church of his time: like the small barque which was the Church of that period, he found himself buffeted by the contrary wind of history and it may have seemed that the Lord had forgotten him. We too can see this as an image of the Church of our time which in many parts of the earth finds herself struggling to make headway in spite of the contrary wind, and it seems the Lord is very remote.
But the Gospel gives us an answer, consolation and encouragement and at the same time points out a path to us. It tells us, in fact: yes, it is true, the Lord is with the Father but for this very reason he is not distant but sees everyone, for whoever is with God does not go away but is close to his neighbour. And, in fact, the Lord sees them and at the proper time comes towards them.
And when Peter, who was going to meet him, risks drowning, the Lord takes him by the hand and brings him to safety on the boat. The Lord is continuously holding out his hand to us too. He does so through the beauty of a Sunday; he does so through the solemn liturgy; he does so in the prayer with which we address him; he does so in the encounter with the Word of God; he does so in many situations of daily life – he holds his hand out to us. And only if we take the Lord’s hand, if we let ourselves be guided by him, will the path we take be right and good.
For this reason let us pray to him that we may succeed ever anew in finding his hand. And at the same time, this implies an exhortation: that, in his Name we hold our own hand out to others, to those in need of it, to lead them through the waters of our history.
