Lent Week 2: Monday | Matthew 14 (22-33)

Greetings in Vermont, Duffy.

This is just me speaking, without Gemini. (Who is "just me"? Is there a little bit of God's voice mixed in here with Jonathan's voice?)

Today's reading from Matthew about Jesus walking on the water calls to mind the acoustic version of "Oceans" by Hillsong United. This song has led me through many private devotional sessions since at least since 2013. I distinctly remember listening to it and sharing it by email with some climate change colleagues on the day Mandela died.

Now I am switching over to Gemini.

The story of Peter stepping out of the boat in Matthew 14:22-33 is one of the most evocative images in the New Testament. It captures that breathtaking moment where faith meets the impossible. However, the interpretation of this miracle often runs into a bit of a "spiritual safety" hazard. 

The Literal Trap

For the very young, the line between divine miracle and superhero capability is often blurred; a child might step into a swimming pool fully expecting the surface to hold, simply because they love Jesus. Similarly, those struggling with delusions may find themselves convinced they possess supernatural agency, viewing faith as a sort of magic wand for physics. While these are extreme cases, they point to a subtle tension that exists even within the spiritually mature. There is a quiet, persistent whisper in the back of the Christian mind that wonders: If my faith were truly perfect—if I didn't have a grain of doubt—could I walk on the waves too? It’s a reflection of our deep-seated desire to fully inhabit the power of the Kingdom, but it can easily veer into a misunderstanding of what faith is actually for.

Faith vs. Physics

To avoid the trap of self-blame when we "fail" to work miracles, we have to look at the source and purpose of the event. Peter didn’t decide to walk on water as a feat of personal willpower; he responded to a specific command: "Come." Biblical faith is not a psychological "muscle" we flex to bend reality to our whims; it is a responsive trust in the person of Jesus. When we aren't performing miracles, it isn't necessarily a faith deficit—often, it’s simply because God is calling us to walk on the solid ground He already provided. Jesus used this moment to reveal His divinity and Peter’s need for a Savior, not to hand out a manual on how to bypass the laws of buoyancy.

Breaking the Cycle of Guilt

Jesus certainly didn't intend for this story to become a yardstick for self-flagellation. If the goal was perfect, unwavering performance, Peter would have failed the test the moment he glanced at the wind. Yet, look at the response: when Peter began to sink, Jesus didn't let him drown to teach him a lesson about his weak faith. He immediately reached out His hand. Our relationship with God is defined by that reach, not by our ability to keep our shoes dry. We shouldn't beat ourselves up for being human; after all, even the "Little Faith" that Peter showed was enough to get him out of the boat and into the arms of Christ.

The Literal Foundation

The literal truth of this miracle is the bedrock upon which the early Church was built. When we look at Peter stepping onto the liquid surface of the Sea of Galilee, we aren't just seeing a man performing a feat; we are witnessing the physical manifestation of a total surrender to the Lordship of Christ. This was the raw, unfiltered faith that allowed a simple fisherman to leave his nets, endure the terrors of the storm, and eventually become the Petra—the rock—upon which the Church was established. To believe in the literal walking on water is to believe that the Creator of the universe is not bound by His own laws, and that He can empower His followers to transcend human limitation when it serves His divine purpose. It was this absolute conviction in the supernatural reality of Jesus that gave Peter the courage to lead the fledgling Church through the fires of Roman persecution.

The Metaphorical Horizon

Turning to the metaphorical truth, we find a narrative that resonates deeply with the modern faith of a Church tossed about by the waves of modernity and postmodernity. From a conservative or traditional perspective, one might see a "progressive Peter" who, in an attempt to engage with the shifting currents of contemporary culture, risks losing sight of the Master and begins to sink into the abyss of secularism or relativism. Yet, the beauty of the metaphor is that Jesus is present even in the sinking. In the midst of global crises—whether they be environmental, social, or spiritual—the Church often feels like it is gasping for air, overwhelmed by the complexity of the 21st century. Even here, Christ’s reach is not shortened. He uses the very turbulence of our era to draw us back to the essential truth: that our survival depends not on our own ideological navigation, but on the outstretched hand of the One who walks calmly above the chaos.

Oceans: Where Feet May Fail

Oceans (Where Feet May Fail) by Hillsong United has become a modern worship staple largely because it serves as a lyrical mirror to Peter’s internal state in Matthew 14. The acoustic version, often stripped down to a raw, piano-driven or guitar-led arrangement on YouTube, highlights the vulnerability of the lyrics: "Your grace abounds in deepest waters / Your sovereign hand will be my guide." It is an ideal selection for this passage because it shifts the focus from the spectacle of the miracle to the psychological and spiritual "yes" required to step into the unknown.

While the song originated in a Pentecostal/Evangelical context, its themes are deeply ecumenical and well-suited for private devotion across traditions. For Anglicans and Protestants, the emphasis on trusting without borders aligns with the theology of sola fide (faith alone). For traditional Catholics, the song’s focus on the sovereign hand and the total abandonment to Divine Providence resonates with the teachings of Jean-Pierre de Caussade. Despite its modern musical style, the core plea—to keep one's eyes above the waves—is a universal Christian aspiration that transcends denominational boundaries, making it a powerful tool for anyone seeking to deepen their contemplative walk with Christ.

Abandonment to Divine Providence

Jean-Pierre de Caussade, an 18th-century Jesuit priest, is most famous for his classic work Abandonment to Divine Providence. At the heart of his teaching is the concept of the "sacrament of the present moment." De Caussade argued that God’s will is not a distant goal to be reached through complex spiritual maneuvers, but a reality that meets us in every immediate circumstance—whether we are doing chores, suffering, or praying. For de Caussade, the importance of present-moment awareness lies in the belief that God is actively speaking through the duty or event of the now. By "abandoning" oneself to this moment, a person is essentially stepping out of the boat like Peter, trusting that the "waves" of their current life are exactly where Christ is standing. However, his teachings were sometimes scrutinized under the shadow of Quietism, a 17th-century heresy that advocated for a total passivity so extreme that it supposedly rendered human effort and even vocal prayer unnecessary. De Caussade was accused of this because his emphasis on "abandonment" and "waiting on God" could be misinterpreted as a rejection of the soul's active cooperation with grace. In reality, he taught a vigilant surrender—an active "yes" to God's presence that required immense spiritual discipline, rather than the spiritual sloth the Quietists were accused of practicing.

Grace and peace.  

Gemini construction chat:

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