If we wish to rid ourselves of our fears we must be ready to imitate Peter and to step out on the sea.

NINETEEN SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME – A

1 Kings 19:9-13

Romans 9:1-5

Matthew 14:22-33

In the book and movie, Dune, the hero recites a mantra when confronting a dangerous situation. “I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.” This is consistent with the Biblical teaching about fear. In the prophet Isaiah we read: “Do not fear, for I am with you.” (Isaiah 41:10). In the psalms: “In God I trust; I will not be afraid.”  St. John in his first epistle writes: “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.” (1 John 4:18). Jesus himself said, “Fear is useless, what is needed is trust” (Mark 5:36). Despite all that biblical advice we find that fear is an ever-present human reality – then and now. We are told by St. Matthew in the gospel that the disciples “cried out in fear.” With good reason. They were on an open boat in the midst of a storm, no doubt shipping water. They could not make their way to safety when out of the rain, a ghostly figure walks on the water. That was too much. It triggered the “flight or fight” response that has been the human reaction in the face of danger since the cave man was running away from a saber-tooth tiger. Fear seems appropriate in such circumstances.

Living in Chicago might not produce fear exactly but certainly a caution that something fearful could happen. We read in the news of attacks on the train, incidents of road rage, storms blowing down trees. What was the line from the movie: “Be afraid. Be very afraid.” But the kind of fear the Bible warns us against is not a “fight or flight” type of fear. It is something more personal, something that goes to our core. If you’re a philosopher you might call it existential fear. We have fears that we are missing something essential in life, that we are just surviving instead of really living. We have fears that we’ve messed up big time with our family, that we don’t really have the kind of human connection we want. We have fears about getting sick, about dying. Have we lived the way which prepares us for that ultimate moment when we have to say good-bye to the only kind of life that we know? These are the kind of fears that Jesus names as “useless.” To those fears Jesus says: “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.” If we wish to rid ourselves of our fears we must be ready to imitate Peter and say, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you.” We must be ready to step out on the sea.

Say, for example, that you have a fear of being hurt. Things that happened to you, things in your past have wounded you deeply. You don’t want to take the chance of being vulnerable, so you shut down, you close in, you don’t risk. To get over that fear we must hear the invitation to of Jesus to come to him and step out on the sea, the sea of love. Jesus has promised to be with us so, with him at our side, we can reach out to others, we can share our hopes and dreams, we are free to give ourselves in a genuine connection with others. Once we rest secure in the love of Jesus, we have the freedom to act in love toward those who are woven into our lives.

Maybe your fears are more global. You’re afraid that the divisions in the country are too great to overcome, afraid that the poor are trapped in their condition, afraid that we are poisoning our planet, afraid that racism is too embedded in society to be eradicated, afraid that violence has become a way of life. Jesus says to come to him and step out on the sea of hope. While all these fears are too big for you or for me to correct, we are invited to trust that Jesus can. If we live doing what we can for peace and justice we rely on the grace and power of God to make all things new and fears dissipates. We trust that God can make a way out of no way and so no matter the stormy sea around us we have hope in tomorrow because Christ is with us.

Then there is the fear that we are not really connecting to God at all. Our prayers seem fruitless, our beliefs are tentative, our doubts are many, our insecurity is overwhelming. We are afraid that there are other people who are made for the spiritual life but not us. We’re afraid we don’t have the religious gene. It is then that we must step out on the sea of faith. Okay, so we’re not like St. Paul getting knocked off of our horse to come to faith. Our faith seems small. What we can all do is be like Elijah in the first reading and attend to the tiny whispering sound. If you think about it, you have to lean in to hear a whisper. You have to quiet all the background noise. You have to pay close attention. Stepping on the sea of faith requires listening to silence.

“Lord, save me!” Peter cried when he began to sink. That cry is not meant for just the major crises but for all the daily providences of our life. Lord, save us from missing the daily opportunities you are placing before us. Lord, save us from staying stuck in a rut that limits our love. Lord, save us from not having hope in your future. Lord, save us from doubting that we can truly hear your voice in the tiny whispering sound. Hearing that prayer, Jesus will for us, like he did for Peter, reach out and catch us in his loving arms.