19th Sunday 2023
1Kings 19:9, 11-13; Romans 9: 1-5; Matthew 14:21-43
They’ve done it again. The Lectionary seems to vary between giving us a set of readings about which it is difficult to say anything, and a threesome, of which each would merit a homily of its own.
The latter is the case today. We begin with Elijah’s encounter with God in the cave on Mt. Horeb, the very spot in which God placed Moses before passing by him. Some background is needed. Elijah has just massacred the false prophets on Mt. Carmel, and the evil queen, Jezebel, has promised to do the same to him. Elijah has fled, making the traditional forty days’ trek through the wilderness, where he has suffered black depression and been supported by an angel.
Now he is confronted by God Himself. We hear of the wind, the earthquake, and the fire, and are told that God was not present in any of them, but revealed Himself in a gentle breeze, or a still, small voice, as another translation puts it.
Is it true that God was not in the wind, the earthquake, or the fire? Think of your own lives. I am sure that every one of you has passed through times of turmoil, when your world was battered, perhaps even turned upside down. Those times are, for us, the equivalent of the wind, the earthquake, and the fire. Was God in them? Your first reaction may be to say “no”, but think again. Did you survive them? Did you perhaps grow as a result of them—grow in understanding, in strength, in compassion? If so, then those are signs that God was, indeed, present in them. Perhaps it is only afterwards, when there is greater calm, that you are able to hear the still, small voice, and to come gradually to realise that God was always there.
It is worth adding that God, in speaking to Elijah, sent him back to confront the very situation from which he had fled, giving him a series of radical tasks. Now, though, Elijah was secure in the knowledge that God was with him.
St. Paul, meanwhile, agonises over the situation of the Jews. Are they lost? If so, Paul clams that he would be willing to be cut off from Christ, if that would help them. When you consider how devoted he was to Christ, you can see what a huge claim that was. As the Letter to the Romans progresses, we will learn that Paul came to believe that the alienation of the Jews was only temporary, and took place to enable the Gentiles to be saved.
Tragically, hostility to the Jews took firm root, and it wasn’t until the Second Vatican Council, sixty years ago, that the Church definitively declared that the Jewish people have their own way to God. More recently, Pope Benedict XVI, in his magnificent “Jesus of Nazareth” trilogy, insisted that we ae not in the business of converting Jews, who are still bound to God by the covenants.
As is often the case, today’s Gospel contains echoes of the First Reading, as Jesus comes to the disciples in the course of a storm. Like the still small voice which follows the turmoil for Elijah, Our Lord calms the storm, but it is clear that He was present in it, showing His control of the elements by walking on the water.
Not for the only time, Jesus calls to the disciples, “Courage, it is I. Do not be afraid”. That which you fear is actually me: your fear is unnecessary. As it was for the disciples, so it is for us. Our Lord, the Son of God, is present in our fear, our anguish, our distress, and He calls to us “Courage, it is I”. When He is present in a situation, as He always is, we have no need to be afraid.
Peter attempts to take Jesus at His word: “Tell me to come to you across the water!” Tell me to put complete trust in you. Tell me to step outside my comfort zone, to take the difficult, the seemingly impossible way. Again, Peter’s prayer should be ours. We should wish to approach Jesus, stepping out of the boat of comfort, of routine, of non-disturbance. We should allow Our Lord to disturb us, to call us to Him even by a difficult way; and if our courage fails, we can call out to Him, and He will hold us up. For us, God is present in the wind, earthquake, and fire; He calms the storm, and He calls us to Himself, holding us up when our own strength fails.
