Homily
Last week I was sitting at a stop light, with a “No
Right Turn on Red” sign, and it was my intention to make
right turn. But I was not feeling impatient because I
could not turn right on red, which is probably why I had
my revelation about patience. The thought came to me
that patience is mostly all about the future. If I am
not patient, it’s because I want to be there, not here;
I want to do that thing, not this one; I want to get out
of the store, not stand in line behind two other people
to pay for my groceries; I want you to start acting that
way, not the way you are acting right now. Impatience is
not so much about what is happening right now, but what
I want to happen instead…that thing that is over there,
in the future, even if that future is just a minute
away. Impatience means I don’t like waiting for that
future.
While thinking about today’s gospel I think I had
another revelation, (which means my revelation quota for
this year is now full.) It seems to me that, for the
most part, the feeling of fear is largely about the
future as well. Two reactions of fear are mentioned in
today’s gospel. The first time it involves all the
disciples:
During the fourth watch of the night, (Jesus) came
toward them, walking on the sea. When the disciples
saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified. “It
is ghost,” they said, and they cried out in fear.
I suggest to you that seeing what they thought was a
ghost was not really what frightened them. Instead, it
was what they thought that ghost might do to them in the
immediate future that had them scared. Think of it this
way: you probably would not be afraid to see a ghost on
TV, because it is no potential threat. But even if a TV
ghost did frighten you, it would only happen because you
fear what a real ghost might possibly do to you, that
fear about a potential future.
Next, in the gospel, we hear about Peter’s fear. He
wasn’t exactly afraid of the fact that he was slipping
down into the water. Because if that slipping had
stopped at any point his fear would have gone away. He
was afraid for his immediate future: that this slipping
meant that he would drown and die. So, I began to think
about how many of our fears are not really about the
present, but rather about the future, about what might
happen to us. Peter couldn’t know for sure that he was
going to drown, but it sure seemed like it was going to
happen any second. So too that future bad thing we fear
may be very likely to happen, or it may have very little
chance of hurting us (or those we love) but that fear
can affect us all the same.
Notice the next reaction in the gospel: when Jesus took
Peter’s hand his fear faded away. When Jesus got into
the boat the fear of the disciples vanished and it is
replaced with reverence for Jesus. When Christ is among
us, fear can vanish, because He alone can save us, and
He will always save us if we put ourselves into His
hands. It’s true that He may not save us the way we want
Him to save us, but He will always save us. That’s why
the martyrs could go to their deaths, that’s why Peter
could later face his own crucifixion and death rather
than deny his Lord. Was he afraid when he faced his own
cross? We don’t know for certain. But even if he was, he
was not so afraid that he betrayed his relationship with
Christ, because he knew his future was with Jesus, not
with eternal death and extinction.
What are the last words I will say today to you in
church? “Christ is among us!” and you confirm you
believe that when you answer, “He is and always will
be!” Christ is with you on your way home, and in your
house and in your afternoon. Christ is among us, at our
work, or while we are shopping or walking the dog.
Christ is with us when we’re alone, or when we are with
others, when we are thinking and when we are speaking,
and when we are listening, Christ is among us. It’s so
easy to forget that and then fear can push itself into
our consciousness. Jesus was standing right in front of
Peter but at that time all he could think about was that
he was going to drown. When death confronted him the
second time in the city of Rome, even though Jesus was
not physically standing in front of him, all he could
think of was Christ.
Our fears are about our futures and the futures of those
whom we love, and some of our fears may not be rational
or reasonable, while some of our fears are about very
genuine dangers which could easily happen. But our fears
are about the future, while Christ is with us right now
in the present, just as He will also be with us in that
future which we may fear. And since He is with us right
now it is our greatest blessing to put ourselves into
His loving hands no matter what the future might bring.
I am not saying that the person who has great faith will
never have any fears. But the man or woman who has faith
will not allow those fears to push them to do wrong, or
give up their hope, or to drown in despair, because they
know Christ is with them and He will never abandon them.
He is with them now, He will be with them in the future,
whatever it might be, and when they cry out “Lord, save
me!” as Peter did, He will not disappoint.
So let us be truly present to Christ here in this
Liturgy, so that nourished by His Word and by His Body
and Blood, we may be truly present with Him when this
service is over, throughout today and into tomorrow. And
whatever fears we may have about the future let us
entrust ourselves and our fears into His most
compassionate care, because just as He did for Peter, He
will always stretch out His hand to save us. Let’s
always be ready to grab it.