Today I received a video from my sister of my almost 1 year old niece walking. If you have watched younger siblings or nieces or nephews take their first steps, you know how exciting it is. As I watched, the Gospel for this weekend came to mind, and I wondered, “Why do we even want to take steps at all?”
In the Gospel story of the storm at sea (Mt 14:22-33), Jesus has fed his disciples with the Bread of Life, and sends them on a boat to cross the sea. They have been called, taught, fed, and sent. They should be content, right? Then, when a storm comes, Jesus approaches them while walking upon the water and declares, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.” The Lord is present to them, though perhaps at some distance, and he assures them to not fear the storm or his apparently ghost-like appearance. They should be content, then.
But Peter isn’t. “Peter said to him in reply, ‘Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water’.” And Jesus says, “Come.”
What is it about our nature that will not be contented with settling? My niece has everything she needs: family, shelter, food, and if she isn’t happy, a simple wail will send her mother or father, or her many aunts and uncles running to her aid.
And yet she is not content. None of us were. That's why we walk today.
Perhaps Peter’s example not only offers us consolation of identification—that other follower of Christ also desired “more” than simply being not afraid, but perhaps Peter also offers us a lesson, instruction: follow that desire for more.
You have heard the call of Christ to follow him. You have been fed with his Sacrament and instructed in his teaching. And you have been sent for his work. “Take courage,” Jesus says to us today, for it is Him who you, like Peter, might recognize in that desire of your heart. “Do not be afraid.”
But perhaps more importantly, listen to the instruction of Christ to “Come.” Whatever the longing of your heart for growth in knowledge, virtue, charity, hope… when you find that divine spark within your soul calling you beyond contentment, swiftly lift yourself to your shaky, 1 year old legs, step out of the boat, and go.
