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Today's Readings
(Audio)
(Audio)
Then the LORD said to him,
“Go outside and stand on the mountain before the LORD;
the LORD will be passing by.”
Our first reading and our Gospel today tell both recount events of theophany, when God revealed himself to Elijah on Horeb, and to Peter and the other disciples on the sea. In both events there was much to distract and detract from the awareness of God's presence. There were dramatic events that preceded his coming that seemed far more impressive than his presence when he finally came. The earthquake, the wind, and the storm at sea were all such powerful events, so obvious and hard to ignore, that they easily could have been mistaken for God's presence. No doubt pagans had done exactly that in other times and places. But Elijah was not fooled by the preludes. There was nothing in creation adequate to express God's glory. Tying that glory to an earthquake or the wind would only result in deeper confusion about his transcendence. It is likely that Elijah had to gradually learn that the voice of the Lord was unexpectedly quiet, a still small voice, a quiet whispering sound. Those who were the most zealous for the Lord seemed like they would be the ones most likely to assume that the sound of his voice would convey unmistakable glory, that it would be undeniable, and impossible to miss. But Elijah didn't move until he heard the tiny whispering sound. He knew what to expect, and therefore must have learned it previously. Something so subtle could not have been something discerned without time and effort. But having expended such effort in the past he was now able to recognize it instantly. We are reminded of how Samuel had to be instructed by Eli in order to know the voice of the one who called him in the night (see First Samuel 3:8-9). Then, having been instructed, he was able to recognize the Lord speaking to him and respond appropriately.
When the disciples saw him walking on the sea they were terrified.
“It is a ghost,” they said, and they cried out in fear.
At once Jesus spoke to them, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.”
At first, the disciples were unable to separate the presence of Jesus from their fear of the storm. But his voice was familiar enough to Peter to cause him to take the next step. Like Elijah he was drawn toward the voice. For some inscrutable reason he asked to be allowed to leave the boat and go toward Jesus rather than asking Jesus to come to them in the boat. The boat did provide some proof against the storm. But if Peter was not deceived by what he saw, Jesus possessed in himself an even greater stability. If it was not an illusion, Jesus seemed to be a greater shelter in the storm than the disciples' insufficient vessel.
God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear though the earth give way,
though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble at its swelling (see Psalm 46:1-3).
We can't go where Jesus is merely on our own initiative. If we want to live in the shelter of his presence we must learn first, not to be content with the shelter of our inadequate vessels, and second to ask him to call us where he is, into the dynamism and adventure of discipleship. We don't go out because we are foolhardy adventure seekers. We go because it is always better to be close to Jesus than anything else. When we forget this motive there is no way for us to continue existing in that higher mode of living without sinking. We can't live the life we are meant to live as disciples on our own strength. Yet we are often tempted to look away from the one through whose grace we stand (see Romans 5:2) and toward the strength of the wind and waves of worldly circumstances. Slipping back into self-reliance is a pitfall that can probably never be avoided entirely. Fortunately, we have Jesus near at hand to catch us when (and not if) we fall. He can then bring us back to the boat of his Church, in which we now discover a new depth of peace and stability, that we may rest and be restored, recharged for our next adventure with him.
After they got into the boat, the wind died down.
Those who were in the boat did him homage, saying,
“Truly, you are the Son of God.”
“Go outside and stand on the mountain before the LORD;
the LORD will be passing by.”
Our first reading and our Gospel today tell both recount events of theophany, when God revealed himself to Elijah on Horeb, and to Peter and the other disciples on the sea. In both events there was much to distract and detract from the awareness of God's presence. There were dramatic events that preceded his coming that seemed far more impressive than his presence when he finally came. The earthquake, the wind, and the storm at sea were all such powerful events, so obvious and hard to ignore, that they easily could have been mistaken for God's presence. No doubt pagans had done exactly that in other times and places. But Elijah was not fooled by the preludes. There was nothing in creation adequate to express God's glory. Tying that glory to an earthquake or the wind would only result in deeper confusion about his transcendence. It is likely that Elijah had to gradually learn that the voice of the Lord was unexpectedly quiet, a still small voice, a quiet whispering sound. Those who were the most zealous for the Lord seemed like they would be the ones most likely to assume that the sound of his voice would convey unmistakable glory, that it would be undeniable, and impossible to miss. But Elijah didn't move until he heard the tiny whispering sound. He knew what to expect, and therefore must have learned it previously. Something so subtle could not have been something discerned without time and effort. But having expended such effort in the past he was now able to recognize it instantly. We are reminded of how Samuel had to be instructed by Eli in order to know the voice of the one who called him in the night (see First Samuel 3:8-9). Then, having been instructed, he was able to recognize the Lord speaking to him and respond appropriately.
When the disciples saw him walking on the sea they were terrified.
“It is a ghost,” they said, and they cried out in fear.
At once Jesus spoke to them, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.”
At first, the disciples were unable to separate the presence of Jesus from their fear of the storm. But his voice was familiar enough to Peter to cause him to take the next step. Like Elijah he was drawn toward the voice. For some inscrutable reason he asked to be allowed to leave the boat and go toward Jesus rather than asking Jesus to come to them in the boat. The boat did provide some proof against the storm. But if Peter was not deceived by what he saw, Jesus possessed in himself an even greater stability. If it was not an illusion, Jesus seemed to be a greater shelter in the storm than the disciples' insufficient vessel.
God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear though the earth give way,
though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble at its swelling (see Psalm 46:1-3).
We can't go where Jesus is merely on our own initiative. If we want to live in the shelter of his presence we must learn first, not to be content with the shelter of our inadequate vessels, and second to ask him to call us where he is, into the dynamism and adventure of discipleship. We don't go out because we are foolhardy adventure seekers. We go because it is always better to be close to Jesus than anything else. When we forget this motive there is no way for us to continue existing in that higher mode of living without sinking. We can't live the life we are meant to live as disciples on our own strength. Yet we are often tempted to look away from the one through whose grace we stand (see Romans 5:2) and toward the strength of the wind and waves of worldly circumstances. Slipping back into self-reliance is a pitfall that can probably never be avoided entirely. Fortunately, we have Jesus near at hand to catch us when (and not if) we fall. He can then bring us back to the boat of his Church, in which we now discover a new depth of peace and stability, that we may rest and be restored, recharged for our next adventure with him.
After they got into the boat, the wind died down.
Those who were in the boat did him homage, saying,
“Truly, you are the Son of God.”
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