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Sometimes today’s gospel lesson is interpreted along the lines
of the title of a book by John Ortberg, “If You Want to Walk
on Water, You’ve Got to Get out of the Boat.” The
interpretation goes like this: Peter had the right idea when he
got out of the boat, quite literally stepping out in faith. Peter,
like all of us, is invited to step out into the storms of life where
Jesus calls us to take courage, leave the safety of the boat, and
come to him. If we have enough faith in Jesus and keep our
focus firmly on him, we shall/will not sink, despite the wind
and the waves. If only Peter had not become distracted. When
he kept his eyes on Jesus, he could have walked on water.
When he got anxious and sidetracked from keeping his focus
on Jesus, Peter, whose name means “rock,” went down like a
stone. Jesus wants us to be bold in our faith. Jesus wants us to
walk on water, dream big, take risks in our lives. And if we can
just be faithful enough, we will succeed.
Walking on water has come to be synonymous [sɪ'nɔnɪməs],
even outside the church, with the idea of stepping out in
boldness, taking a risk. If you do an Internet search on “walk
on water,” you’ll get links to business consulting firms, fashion
companies, science projects – all of them proponents of going
the extra mile (another biblical phrase that’s gone mainstream).
It has become another phrase along the lines of “thinking
outside the box,” “The early bird catches the worm,” and
“When the going gets tough, the tough get going.”
No doubt Jesus wants us to take risks for the sake of the
gospel. No doubt Jesus wants us to keep our eyes focused on
him and his mission. No doubt Jesus wants us to have the gift
of faith. He’s the one who reminded his followers, “With God,
all things are possible.” He’s the one who told some fishermen
to leave everything to follow him. He’s the one who tells us to
take up our cross, to lose our lives for his sake, that if we have
faith even the size of a mustard seed, we could say to that
mountain, get up and move, and it will. When the resurrected
Jesus stepped out of the tomb that first Easter morning, he
really outdid himself in thinking “outside of the box,” didn’t
he? No doubt, Jesus wants us to take risks, be bold, do
outrageous aut'reɪʤəs things for the gospel, step out in faith
and follow.
But is that really what Jesus really wants us to hear in this
particular gospel lesson? One thing that’s true about Matthew’s
gospel is it’s interested in community. It’s really interested in
figuring out what it means to be the church, the body of Christ
in the world, the gathering of people who are trying to follow
Christ together. Matthew isn’t really interested in great heroes
of the faith, singular individuals who go above and beyond. If,
like Peter, they go swinging their legs out over the side of the
boat, leaving the rest of the disciples behind trying to row and
manage in the storm, we’re likely to see such an individual
take a few steps and then plunge beneath the waves, surely to

drown [draun], if not for the grace and love and forgiveness of
Jesus who always, always, reaches out to save, even when we
get confused and fearful and full of doubt.
So I wonder if when Jesus says to Peter, “You of little faith,
why did you doubt?” the meaning isn’t, “Oh, Peter, if only you
had more faith,” but is, instead, “Oh, Peter, why did you get
out of the boat?”
The boat has, from very early days in the Christian community,
been a symbol for the Church. And no wonder. Think of a ship,
a vessel large enough that it takes a number of people doing
diverse things to get it to move. A ship is a great symbol for the
church. Moving through the waters on a gorgeous day can be
simply glorious. When wind and water and sailors cooperate,
the journey is grand. Sometimes, though, life on the ship can
get routine. The same chores need doing every day. The wind
doesn’t always do what the sailors want. A large crew means a
variety of people, which means a variety of ideas and
personalities. The ship’s mission can be jeopardized
['ʤepədaɪz] by those who are tempted to set sail alone, or
mutiny, or jump overboard. But any problems on the ship have
more to do with the sailors than the Captain – with a capital C,
as in “Christ” – because the Captain has provided for the ship.
The Captain gives Word and Sacraments, the community of
sailors, and even gave them their seaworthy ship to guide them
into the ultimate safe harbour. Christians have long treasured
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this image of the Church as a ship: beautiful, but vulnerable;
seaworthy ['siːˌwɜːðɪ], but subject to storm and winds and
waves.
In today’s lesson, Jesus makes the disciples, those who would
follow him, get into a boat, and head out across the sea. The
gospel says, “Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go
on ahead to the other side.” Jesus would meet up with them
again. First, he was going to take some time by himself to pray.
But a storm blows up, as storms do in our lives, and Jesus
doesn’t wait for them to get to the other side. He comes to
them, walking across the water, the very picture of God that
they knew from their scriptures. Jesus would not leave his
disciples alone in the boat to perish in the storm, but comes to
them, and says, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”
And then there’s Peter. And while we usually just skip right to
impetuous, enthusiastic Peter, faithfully thinking outside the
box, jumping overboard and pulling off an amazing stunt, if
even just for a moment, what Peter actually does first is say
something. He says, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come
to you on the water.” “If it is you …” If.
There are only a couple of other times in the whole gospel
when someone addresses Jesus with “if,” and they’re not
pretty. The devil does it three times to Jesus when he tempts
him in the desert, “If you are the Son of God,” make stones
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into bread, call down special privileges from God, worship me. in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go, therefore,
When Jesus is hanging on the cross, people mock him, calling and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name
out, “If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross.” of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and
And here, Peter, the beautiful, real Peter, joins his voice, “If it teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you.”
is you, Jesus, command me to come to you on the water.” If. And then he gives them a promise – all of them: “And
remember,” says Jesus, “I am with you always, to the end of
Jesus doesn’t chide Peter for being afraid. Of course you’re
the age.”
afraid in the midst of a storm. But why did you doubt? Did you
really think I wouldn’t come? Did you really think I wouldn’t Storms will blow up in all of our lives. But Jesus has not left us
save you? Did you really think, when I told you to get into the alone. The one who calms the storms and makes the winds
boat and go on ahead, that I would ever, ever leave you alone? cease is still with us. He still has work for us to do. And yes, it
“Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” will mean stepping out in faith, but not getting out of the boat,
not going it alone, not leaving the community of disciples. The
Jesus and Peter get into the boat. The wind ceases. “And those
purpose of a ship is to set sail, not to stay at the dock.
in the boat worshiped him, saying, ‘Truly, you are the Son of
God.’” There are plenty of adventures ahead, and Jesus will bid us
follow. And he will say to us, in the midst of any storm, “Take
Matthew’s whole gospel ends with the resurrected Jesus
heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”
appearing to the disciples. The resurrected Christ himself
appears where he said he would meet them. And Matthew tells
us, “When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some
doubted.” Some doubted. Even then. Even with the risen Jesus
standing right in front of them. They worshiped. But some
doubted.

That’s not where the story ends, though. Even still, in the midst
of their worship, even to those who doubt, Jesus gives a
command and a promise. The command is this: “All authority

Assumption
During the last academic year I participated in the scientific
discussion about how to determine that someone had died.
For many this is when you can say that someone is 'brain dead,'
when the brain has stopped functioning and is unlikely to recover.
Sometimes the body still continues to function in various ways, but
it is the activity of the brain which is held to be crucial.
The person leading this discussion was both a research scientist and
a committed Catholic and he argued that the linking of death to brain
activity distorted the nature of the human being. A human being is
instead a unity of brain and body and it is when that whole stops
functioning that we should say someone is dead. To do otherwise
was to fragment the human being and ascribe to a dualist and
unchristian anthropology: 'I am my brain,' not 'I am my brain and
body.'
This is a modern version of the more traditional dualism of soul and
body, where it is claimed that the soul, however understood, is the
real human person, the real 'I', not the soul and body together.
Today we celebrate the Assumption of Our Lady, the doctrine of
faith which Pope Pius XII defined:
Preserved free from all guilt of original sin, the Immaculate Virgin
was taken up body and soul into heavenly glory upon completion of
here earthly sojourn. She was exalted by the Lord as Queen of the
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Universe, in order that she might be the more thoroughly conformed
to her Son, the Lord of Lords and the conqueror of sin and death.
At the end of her life Mary was taken up body and soul in order that
she might share in the resurrection of Christ which conquers death
and gives to all the hope of bodily resurrection.
The Assumption of the Our Lady confirms for us that human beings
are not just souls or even brains, but souls and bodies. There would
have been no point in Mary being assumed body and soul into
heaven, if here body were somehow extraneous to her identity.
Rather Mary, like each of us, was and is a unity of soul and body.
Unlike us, she enjoys the privilege of not having to undergo the
trauma of separation of that soul and body when we die, when the
whole human being ceases to function.
The Assumption of Our Lady, who remained sinless from the
moment of her conception, manifests the truth of our faith that death
itself is part of the dislocation of human life which results from sin.
Strange as it may seem, death was not part of God's original
intention for human beings, a gift and privilege which exceeded the
mortality of human beings as part of the natural world.
As the Catechism teaches us: Even though man's nature is mortal,
God destined him not to die. Death is therefore contrary to the plans
of God the Creator, and entered the world as a consequent of sin.
The Assumption of Our Lady reminds us that we should hope for
our own resurrection. The Church bases its affirmation of the
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Assumption on the evidence of history, that her body did not remain
on earth when her time on earth had come to an end. The
Assumption is a historical fact which roots our own hope in fact, our
own hope of sharing in the Resurrection of Christ, as Paul tells us in
the second reading:

Just as all men die in Adam, so all men will be brought to life in
Christ; but all of them in their proper order: Christ as the first-fruits
and then, after the coming of Christ, those who belong to him.

Finally, the Assumption reminds us that our own resurrection is a

gift, the generous and unmerited reaching out to us by God in love.
God's choice of Mary to be the mother of Christ was a gift. Her
sinless conception was a gift. Mary did indeed co-operate freely
with these gifts and responded in faith to her calling, yet her life was
always marked by the giving of God, which ended in the gift of an
immediate share in Christ's Resurrection.

Each of us in the integrity of our individual humanity, male or

female, tall or short, black, brown or white, beautiful or ugly, each
of us will be given the gift of the resurrection, each of us loved by
God as we are.