Matthew 4: 22-33 “He said, ‘Come.’ So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and come towards Jesus.” (Matthew 4: 29) I wouldn’t normally speak up for Peter, come to his defence. He’s certainly big enough (and ugly enough) to look after himself, and if you’re going to go around blurting out the first thing that comes into your head or acting on impulse without thinking then you’d better be prepared for the criticism that will follow. But not this time. This time Peter got it more right than wrong. Yet still he is lambasted for his lack of faith, and somehow everyone seems to forget about the rest of us in the boat; us who showed no faith and acted only out of fear. I don’t know if you can picture the scene. Everything is dark – thick clouds blot out the moon and the stars. There’s only a faint glow from a couple of lanterns that are swinging wildly as the boat is rocked back and forth, up and down, as great waves batter the sides. It’s the early hours of the morning and we’re soaked through from the spray, we’re exhausted from the effort of battling against the wind, trying to keep the boat moving forwards, hoping to keep edging towards the shore, yet all the time seeming to get nowhere, stuck out in the middle of the lake. And then, through the gloom, somewhere off the stern, we spot what seems to be a figure walking towards us. For a moment I thought I was seeing things – maybe hallucinating from the tiredness, my mind playing tricks on me. But the others saw it too. When we realised this, we cried out in fear; “It’s a ghost!”. Well what else could it be? I mean, it looked like Jesus, but we’d left him on the lake shore, with the crowds. How could he be out here, now? Even if he had a boat he’d have never caught us up in this wind. Yet there he was, no boat, nothing, striding over the waves towards us, calling out to us; “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” Well I tell you, of course we were afraid. Being tossed around in a storm at night in the middle of the lake not knowing if you will make the shore, any sensible person would be afraid. But now, seeing him, hearing him, we were more than afraid – we were terrified. Something was happening that was not of this world. We clung to the sides of the boat, desperate to feel something that was solid, that was real, that was tangible. We sunk down into the hull – surely this was the safest place to be? But it’s at this moment that Peter calls out to the figure – to Jesus or the ghost – “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” What a ridiculous thing to say! What would that prove? What if it had been some kind of evil spirit that wanted to lure Peter to a watery grave? I suppose that just highlights Peter’s faith in what happened next. “Come”, that was all the figure said, and before we had a chance to say anything to Peter, before we could grab him and stop him doing something stupid, there he was, climbing over the stern, lowering his feet into the lake, eyes fixed on Jesus. As we froze motionless in the boat, Peter didn’t disappear. Hesitatingly, wobbling, arms outstretched, he began to move towards the figure. It was Jesus, and Peter was walking to him on the water. Of course you know what happens next. There was no way, given the wind and the size of the waves, that Peter wasn’t at some point going to look around him and notice all this again. And when he did that, out of the safety of the boat, he was frightened, and then he began to sink. He called out to Jesus to save him, and there he was, grabbing him by the hand, pulling him up. Funny how everyone remembers that part. Remembers Jesus saying to him “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” Everyone seems to see this as a withering rebuke, but I’m not so sure. Peter had faith – Jesus’ words acknowledge this. He acted in faith. Yes, there was doubt, but faith isn’t the absence of doubt. Like us, Peter wasn’t sure if it was Jesus, but he was the only one brave enough to speak to him, the only one faithful enough to trust the invitation, the only one willing to risk getting his feet wet. No, it seems to me the opposite of faith is fear, not doubt. Peter begin to sink when his doubt meant he was overwhelmed by fear. But we were the ones who let fear paralyse us, clinging to what was known, to what we thought was safe. Yet noone says anything about us. By the time we reached shore, Peter’s little faith was just a little bit bigger. I think somehow that’s how it works. As we draw on it, so we learn to trust that little bit more. Like a muscle, the more we exercise it, the stronger it grows. In faith Peter responded to Jesus, by faith he had walked on the water. By his faith, we saw Jesus’ power to save, not just Peter from drowning but to bring us peace in the storm, and now even those of us who were overcome with fear were beginning to trust. I don’t know whether you’ve ever literally been in the midst of a storm in a boat on a lake, but I’m sure you’ve an idea what it feels like. To be in a situation where all around you is shifting, where you can’t see what’s going on, where it feels like you’re being battered by wave after wave. Where it seems like everything is blowing against you. Where you’re just so tired but all your effort seems to make no difference. Where you long for a place of safety, for the storm to pass. Where you’re gripped by fear because it’s all unknown and out of your control and you try to hunker down in the boat… In the midst of this, when Jesus speaks and bids you come, will you act in fear or faith? Fear kept me in the boat, where eventually we would have been overwhelmed. Faith, even just a little, enabled Peter to step out and walk upon the waves, and encounter the one who saves. Are you willing to step out of the boat? Fear or faith, how will you respond as Jesus calls