Homily

I remember a few years ago when I was sitting at a stop light, with a “No Right Turn on Red” sign, and it was my intention to make a 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 certain 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 in life 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. We just need to always be ready to grab it.