That Sinking Feeling

Matthew 14:22-31

Pentecost 11, August 9, 2026

Holy Trinity Cathedral

“That Sinking Feeling”

Stories of waters this week from the Bible.  Stories of fires this week in our province.  Both elements can be a source of life or death.  Both can overwhelm our ability to cope.  Who is there to help when we are afraid for our lives?  Who can we listen to and trust?

For many communities in the midst of this summer’s terrifying wildfires, it’s the speed and fierceness of the spread that has been most unexpected.  When climate scientists and public officials warned about environmental changes, most recognized a need to change our relationship with the land.  People began to take into consideration fire-guarding their properties, clearing flammable materials from buildings, and conserving water from dwindling reservoirs and snowpacks.  They knew the land was dry and vulnerable. But even many who had a jump-bag beside their front door and their vehicle ready to leave were taken by surprise when evacuation orders came. Despite those who trusted the notifications on the news and followed the alerts from emergency services, there were scenes of chaos and panic.  We’ve seen the footage of traffic snarls on the roads and flames descending on recently vacated homes.  The heroes are the ones who helped their neighbours save their lives, not those who remained to defend a building and needed rescuing themselves.  Sometimes it is more courageous to get out of harm’s way and leave the fight to those who are trained and equipped.  We are grateful to all whose jobs are to respond in times of crisis and reach out hands to help.

Likewise, the disciples of Jesus are learning to leave the miracles to Jesus and obey his simple orders.  In the gospel story, they begin by doing just that.  Their Lord has told the twelve to cross the lake ahead of him just after they have participated in feeding five thousand people. Meanwhile, he is catching a little prayer time alone.  Their boat runs into rough weather on the journey, caught by the wind and the waves far from shore.  This doesn’t scare them in itself.  Some of the disciples are experienced fishermen, after all.  In addition, they have already been through one episode of a storm at sea (Matthew chapter 8) when they witnessed Jesus’ power over the elements.  They could trust in God’s protection while he was with them.  This time, Jesus isn’t in the boat.  They are having a rough time of it, but they continue faithfully under orders.  So far, so good.

Then the unexpected happens.  The twelve glimpse a ghostly figure coming towards them on the waves. They panic and cry out in terror.  And out of the darkness and the wild comes the words of their Lord, “Take heart, it is I, do not be afraid” (Matthew 14:27).  Some of them, at least, recognize and trust the voice.  They sit tight in the boat. 

But not Peter!  O no, he has to test his faith.  He is not convinced, and challenges the apparition: “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”  Why this would offer him proof of identity is puzzling.  Presumably, if Peter stays above the waves Jesus shows he has power to sustain him with yet another miracle.  And if he sinks- well, Peter can swim and trusts his own ability to stay afloat.  Which will it be?  Jesus invites him to come, and Peter climbs over the side of the boat.

It starts well.  Peter starts walking on the waters towards Jesus.  Then loses focus.  He is distracted by the gusts of the wind and overwhelmed by fear.  He fears the power of the storm around him, he fears that he has made a terrible choice in leaving the safety of the boat, and he fears that he will not float.  As he sinks, Peter cries out “Lord, save me!”  And Jesus immediately reaches out an catches him as easily as a fish in a net.  When the two clamber back into the boat, the storm ceases and calm is restored.  Jesus’ followers admit the truth that “truly, you are the Son of God.”

Often preachers will end here with a simple admonition: keep your eyes on Jesus and you will be fine.  But that seems to me a little simplistic, as if faith somehow allows you to avoid crisis and disaster.  We know bad things happen to good people.  When we experience that sinking feeling of being overwhelmed by life’s difficulties, it’s not because we are bad people or we lack faith.  How we respond to the storm around us, however, speaks to our growing edge.  Do we trust ourselves?  Do we trust others? Do we trust God?  Whose voice do we obey?

Peter is not the only one to put another to the test in a crisis.  We challenge according to what we want.  “The government should…”, “Why doesn’t the Church…”, “If my partner loves me, he/she would…”  And we sometimes extend this to God even in prayer.  “God, if you love me, you will…” as if there were only one possible outcome that will prove God’s existence and power.  We’ve heard the old yarn of the person who got caught in the flood.  He crawled on the roof and waited for God to save him, ignoring the canoe, the inflatable, and the helicopter that came his way.  We get panicked and can’t see the hand reaching out to us.  This played out anew in the recent wildfires.  A man was told his property was on evacuation alert and he should be prepared to leave at short notice.  “I’m protected by hoses,” he replied.  A neighbour dropped by to see if he needed help moving his livestock because the fire was closer.   “No, I’m fine,” he said.  Then the highway to the south closed and he said, “Doesn’t bother me, I’m not going anywhere.”  When the emergency order came down, he refused to leave. Finally the fire came over the crest of the hill and licked at his doorstep, he realized he did need help! Firefighters risked their lives to reach out a hand to the one who wouldn’t accept the help that came before.  Sometimes we are like that: not following the signs to accept what is offered.

When we are sinking, pride can drag us down.  Shame can also prevent us from reaching out.  We feel we should have been able to cope; we should have made better choices; we should have found our own way out of the dark well we are drowning in.  Thank God that Peter shows us the courage to ask for help.  He is learning not to trust in his own capacity or certainty, even about God.  He is learning that obedience sometimes means doing simple things well.  And when it all gets too much, there is still someone he can ask for help.  We are not all called to walk on water- unless it is at an ice rink.  But when danger threatens, we can all listen for the voice that inspires trust. The words that lead us to recognize the love of God in Jesus will be the ones that save.  This morning, we can practice being humble enough to reach out for strength.  Come up to communion and receive the sacrament that will sustain you through the storms of life. Amen.