About four years ago a movie called the Hidden Life premiered. The film depicts the life of an Austrian farmer named Franz Jagenstatter, who is drafted by the Nazis to fight in World War II. A quiet and unassuming family man, he is expected to leave his wife and family and farm and report to the German army for basic training.
The first requirement is to swear an oath of allegiance to Adolf Hitler and the Third Reich. Despite pressure from the mayor and his neighbors and even the Bishop of Linz, Franz refuses. He is a devout follower of Christ and to do so is to betray his faith in his Lord.
Knowing that to hold out will mean suffering, imprisonment and even death, Franz finds strength in God, prayer, and his wife’s love and support.
Franz’ decision affects also his wife Frani and their daughters, who have become victims of growing hostility in the village. But the two exchange letters to encourage one another. Despite many opportunities to sign the oath of allegiance, and the promise of non-combatant work, he maintains his opposition until the end.
The movie is based on a true story. Franz was executed by the Third Reich on August 9, 1943, aged 36, survived by his wife and daughters. In June 2007, the Catholic Church declared Franz a martyr. Two months later he was beatified in the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception in Linz.
It is likely that none of us will have to sacrifice everything we have, even our very lives, like Franz did. But it’s inevitable that our faith will be tested. The climate will not always be hospitable to our faith. On the contrary, it may be actively hostile toward it. Our social media followers will not always be supportive of our convictions informed by our faith. Indeed, they may even unfriend or block us. When those moments of testing come, will we have the courage to stand up, even if that means we have to stand apart?
The disciples of Jesus have known the favor of people. Remember in the last episode how their master saved the day? Large crowds had followed Jesus into the wilderness. When he saw all the people in their need, he had compassion on them, healed their sick, and then catered a rather large meal. All were fed and had more than enough.
But today’s episode is very different. After dismissing the crowds, Jesus withdraws to go to a mountainside to pray. But first he orders his disciples into a boat to go on ahead of him to the other side of the lake.
The disciples are obedient. They listen to the command of their Lord and submit to his will. This is, as it should be, not only for his disciples then, but also for his disciples today.
But let’s realize that even if we are obedient disciples in the center of his will, we are not spared from trouble. There will be opposition, difficulties and even dangers, as Franz Jagenstatter experienced.
“In this world, you will have trouble,” Jesus promises his disciples (John 16:33). This is certainly proved in their experience. A strong storm sweeps across the lake. The winds blow against them, and their boat is battered by the waves.
Consider that at this moment, the disciples have no real recourse. The boat is already some distance from the shore. No doubt they feared that if the storm would become any more severe, their boat would be in danger of capsizing.
In the storms of life, we may feel as if we are on our own, as if God has abandoned us. In our prayer of confession this morning, we confessed that we are in the habit of living out our daily struggles as if we are on our own, left to our own devices, left to figure things out on our own. This must have been how the disciples felt in the middle of the lake. But are they not right to feel this way? After all, Jesus is not there with them.
Often we struggle, convinced that there is no one to help. Our efforts to keep our heads above water exhaust us. Fear and then panic overwhelm us.
But human extremity is God’s opportunity. If we are in the will of the Lord, we are in the care of the Lord, as the disciples find out.
Jesus does not abandon his disciples. He comes to them. God is faithful in the storm. The circumstances of our lives don’t determine whether or not God will be there. To be sure, in our most desperate times, it may feel like God is far from us. But that is not true.
During those times, we have to rely on faith rather than feelings, faith in what God says about himself, about his faithfulness, and accept him at his word.
Parenthetically, this is what the Apostle Paul wants to impress on us in our epistle lesson. “The word is near you, on your lips, and in your heart. That is, the word of faith that we proclaim” he writes to the Romans (Rom. 10:8).
This explains Paul’s emphasis on the centrality of preaching. Preachers are entrusted with the task of proclaiming God’s word. But only if they are commissioned and supported by the church, can they preach. And only if they preach, can people hear. And only if people hear, can they call on the name of the Lord themselves and be saved. For “if you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved” (Rom. 10:9).
Faith hears what God says about himself and believes.
The people of Israel needed to hear what God said to them as they suffered in the turbulent waters of the Babylonian exile.
“But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you…. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel…and I love you” (Isa. 43:1-4).
“Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid” (Matt. 14:27). This is the very same Lord, the Holy One of Israel, who encounters his people in the wind and the waves. “This is no ordinary hello on the waters; it is the divine Lord himself addressing [his beleaguered disciples], his storm-tossed church” (Frederick Dale Bruner).
But only one of the disciples really hears these words. Peter wants to rise above his adverse circumstances. He wants to live courageously, rather than timidly. He wants to face his fears, and the sooner the better. He wants to prove that his faith is stronger than his fears. That is why his aspiration is to trample upon the sea with Jesus.
But first he wants confirmation. He calls out to the Lord. “if it is you, command me to come to you.”
Parenthetically, God does not discourage us from asking him for confirmation. If we are prepared to step out in faith, but we want assurance, we can ask God in prayer to clarify and confirm his will for us.
But that is not usually the problem. Rather, the problem is that we prefer to stay in the boat. The force of habit, the fear of what others may think of us, keep us there. We have already mentioned how our faith is tested when the climate is inhospitable to it.
In those moments, do we believe Christ is really there, inviting us to respond in faith to his command to us? Will we stand up, stand out and walk towards him on the waters? Or is he a mirage to us, not substantial enough for us to take him at his word?
Peter, the one who later said, “even if all fall away on account of you, I never will. Even if I have to die with you, I will never deny you” (Matt. 26:35), receives his confirmation. It is really the Lord. And he says to him, “Come!”
Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus. It is a powerful image of faith. In the voice of Jesus who tells him “Come!” he hears the echo of the first encounter on the shore of that very lake, and right away, once again, he leaves the boat and goes to him.
A faithful and ready response to the Lord’s command enables one to achieve extraordinary things. In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus even told us that we are capable of performing miracles with our faith, faith in him, faith in his word (Pope Francis).
Is this not what Peter finds out for himself? He finds himself walking on the water! And as long as he keeps his eyes focused on Jesus, he conquers his fears. He rides upon the waves. But when he casts a sidelong glance at these fears, or rather, what causes these fears, his faith fails.
“And when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” (Matt. 14:30).
Peter’s experience helps us here. We too find that we cannot sustain faith and we fail. “‘Lord, save me!’ is the cry of both the strong disciple and the weak sinner” (Frederick Dale Brunner).
We learn from Peter that whenever we fail, we should not hide from God in shame, but call on him in the expectation that he will hear and save us.
Jesus immediately reaches out his hand to catch Peter, to keep him from sinking. He does, however, reprimand him. “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?”
We can be grateful that the Lord saves before he scolds. But he does discipline his people. He chastens and corrects them, just as he does Peter. Perhaps we don’t hear this often enough in our pulpits, because no discipline is pleasant but painful. No one wants to be reminded of his shortcomings. But the Lord disciplines us for our good, that we may grow and become mature in our faith, complete, not lacking anything.
We can also find comfort that Jesus doesn’t reject those who prefer to stay in the boat. All the disciples on the boat are united in the experience of weakness, doubt, fear and “little faith,” but Jesus accepts them. And when he is again present with them, the wind ceases.
“They saw the deeds of the Lord, his wondrous works in the deep…. He made the storm still, and the waves of the sea were hushed. They were glad because they had quiet, and he brought them to their desired haven” (Ps. 107).
Jesus restores them. Now they feel united in their faith in him, and they worship him. “Really, you are the Son of God.” It is the first time in the Gospel we meet this kind of confession, and it anticipates the confession that Peter famously makes at Caesarea Phillippi two chapters later.
When we return to worship, we are renewed in our faith. Worship happens in the church. In this regard, it is significant that the boat is actually a symbol of the church. From the earliest times, the church has been represented as a boat.
What is it about a boat that suggests itself as a symbol of the church? From New Testament times, the church has been compared to the ark of Noah, in which Noah and his family were saved in the days of the flood. The church has been called the ark of salvation in a world that is perishing.
That remains true today, even though the church is filled with people whose faith fails, who do not maintain their stance of faith when it is opposed, and therefore are not always very good examples. But their Lord is patient with them. He forgives and restores them. He empowers them to respond with courage to challenges, just as he did for Peter.
Tradition tells us that Peter was martyred for his faith, among the first in a line that extends through Franz Jagenstatter, the Austrian farmer whom we mentioned at the beginning.
So let us pray for the courage to respond in faith to the Lord’s command, especially when the wind and the waves are battering the boat. For his presence, both in the storm and in the calm, is always there with us, powerful to save.