Tuesday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time
The story that Matthew tells in the Gospel reading for today is both simple and profoundly challenging for all who live in faith, or try to anyway.
Like the disciples who got into the boat, we follow Jesus. We are in his boat too. It would be nice if that meant that we could all rest easy with a guarantee of calm waters and smooth sailing. Wouldn’t it be lovely if that is what faith meant? Climb aboard and your worries are over. But life isn’t like that. The storms come. Our boat gets swamped. And we are terrified.
What terrifies us varies across time and our differing circumstances. But we all know about fear. We all know what it’s like to worry about such things as a sick child, pending job cuts at our place of employment, a big hospital bill, another terrorist act, a turbulent airplane flight, the threat of nuclear war. The list goes on and on.
And when we are gripped by such fears, we cry out to Jesus—“Lord, save us! We are perishing!” How does Jesus respond? In this story, he rebukes us saying, “Why are you terrified, O you of little faith?”
That is a harsh word because, of course, we are terrified for all sorts of good reasons. It is reasonable to be afraid these days, as it has been in all days. Fear is nothing new. And there is much to fear today. Surely, you could add many more good reasons to be terrified to my list above.
But is it right to read Jesus’s response as a harsh word? I think Jesus understands the reality of our fears. As the savior who suffered through his passion and died on the cross at Calvary, I think he understands that being human is really hard and sometimes downright terrifying. How could he have been a man, a real human being, and not understood that about being human?
But he also knows, as we should know, that fear and terror and violence and even death are not the end of the story. There is also resurrection. And there is the peace that comes from knowing that nothing—not even the Roman Empire—could destroy God-in-the-world. Violence and death did not have the last word. They will not have the last word.
I love this story because of the way Jesus is very much in the world—in the boat, amidst the waves and the wind, and with us. And he is reminding us of who he is. And he is challenging us every day, whatever the storm, to remember who he is. And so, I think this story calls us to ask four questions about Jesus, our relationship to Jesus Christ, and how we live our faith:
Question 1: Who do I say Jesus is? When I think of Jesus, do I remember that he asked to be spared from his suffering? Do I remember that he must have, in some way, been afraid of what was to come? And do I keep ever before me that he triumphed over all forces of evil and sources of human fear?
Question 2: When I suffer from the storms of this life, am racked by fear, can’t escape my worries—is Jesus (the man who suffered and was raised) in the boat with me? Or have I left him on the shore?
Question 3: What can I do in my daily life to remember that I follow the risen Lord—the Lord that knows full well all my fears and yet promises peace? Should I go to mass more often so that I may receive the body and blood more frequently? Should I get down on my knees more often and confess my fears and the ways those fears obscure the peace of Christ?
Question 4: Remembering that Jesus said “my peace I give you” to his disciples and sent them out into the world, how might I share the peace of Christ with others who, being human, are also afraid?
- Sue Trollinger