Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand and caught Peter, and said to him, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?”
Last week I preached about Christ’s hands. The Canon of the Mass (Eucharistic Prayer I), describes Christ’s hands as holy and venerable. We could say His feet were holy and venerable as well—for those feet walked on water.
Christ had multiplied food on the east side of the lake. And the crowd, stunned at what had just happened, sought to make Christ king by force (see John 6:15). A man who could multiply food could feed an army on the move. A man like that could lead a revolt and conquer the hated Roman enemy. But as Bishop Sheen so brilliantly put it:
Our Lord, knowing what was in the hearts of the populace, withdrew to the mountain alone. No unclean hands would put a crown on His head—except a crown of thorns.
To protect His priests-in-training, Christ made them get in the boat and go back to Capernaum, on the west side of the lake. He then withdrew, (or rather made His escape) up on the mountain. And as it grew dark, Christ watched His Apostles out in the distance struggling on the choppy sea.
So, why did Christ walk on water? Could He have not just calmed the sea while praying up on the mountain? Yes—but to walk on water was yet another fulfillment of prophecy.
Psalm 77:7-19 states:
The clouds poured out water; the skies gave forth thunder…the earth trembled and shook. Thy way was through the sea, thy path through the great waters; yet thy footprints were unseen.
The Lord parted the Red Sea, and Moses and the ancient Israelites walked across it on the dry dirt floor. But the new Moses was the Lord. He was the God-Man who made the water. And after walking on it, He told the terrified Apostles, “Take courage. It is I. Do not be afraid.”
Once Christ entered the boat, what did the stunned Apostles do? Did they slap Christ on the back, give Him high-fives, or shake His hand? Did they treat Him as an equal? No. With their jaws dropped at what they just saw, they did Christ homage. That means they dropped to their knees, for that is generally how homage is given. They dropped, and St. Matthew (who was in the boat) recorded their words, “Truly you are the Son of God.”
So why do we get up on Sunday and drop to our knees at Mass? When most of our dying Western Civilization no longer sees the need, why do we? What is the point? Well, it is very simple: We go to Mass to give Christ homage. Not for His sake, but ours. That is why it makes no sense to come to Mass as if you are doing Christ a favor. It makes no sense for you to come here dressed in, say, casual clothing—shorts, jeans, tee shirts—as if you are coming to here to have a casual visit with an equal.
St. Irenaeus, a disciple of St. Polycarp who was a disciple of St. John the Apostle, wrote around 180 AD that our Lord “instructed His disciples to offer God the first fruits of creation, not because God had any need, but so that they themselves should not be unproductive and ungrateful.” Irenaeus wrote: “The Church has received this sacrifice from the Apostles; throughout the world she offers to God, who feeds us, the first fruits of His own gifts…”
Understand: Irenaeus was not speculating or theorizing. He was simply stating what had been passed down from the Apostles. Mass was Christ’s perfect sacrifice to the Father that fulfilled the animal sacrifices of old. Sacrifice then had not ended. Nor had it become some kind of casual or optional get-together or mere communion service.
That novel idea only got its start 1,500 years later, when altar, priest, and sacrifice were replaced with table, presider, and meal. The obligatory sacrifice that made Calvary mystically present was thrown out. The priesthood was thrown out, along with belief in the Holy Eucharist.
An even worse catastrophe has happened within the Church these last sixty years. Look around at the fruits of our modern liturgical revolution. For starters, our children and grandchildren are not here. What’s the point if Christ has in effect been made our equal? What’s the point when Christ the King has been dethroned by earthly kings—men who, though they cannot walk on water or raise themselves from the dead, have a lot of money and power, and thus demand the world’s allegiance?
It’s interesting about boats, shaking hands, and kings. A Church of Scotland (Protestant) theologian once wrote:
We do well to remember that Jesus Christ is King. We can never meet Jesus on an equality. We must always meet Him on terms of complete submission. [Lord Horatio] Nelson, the great admiral, always treated his vanquished opponent with the greatest kindness and courtesy. After one of his naval victories, the defeated admiral was brought aboard Nelson’s flagship and on to Nelson’s quarter-deck.
Knowing Nelson’s reputation for courtesy, and thinking to trade upon it, he advanced across the quarter-deck with hand outstretched as if he was advancing to shake hands with an equal. Nelson’s hand remained by his side. “Your sword first,” he said, “and then your hand.” Before we must be friends with Christ, we must submit to Christ. (William Barclay d.1978)
Who do you submit to? Who is your King? Christ multiplied food on the east side of the lake. So the crowds, wanting to make Him King, got in boats or ran across the north shore of the lake to find Him on the west side. He told them, “You are after more food, but I am the food. You have to eat and drink my Body and Blood.” After Christ repeated Himself five times, the big crowd, including most of Christ’s followers, walked away disgusted and disillusioned.
Christ’s question to His Apostles was, “Are you leaving too?” And Peter, he of little faith, who a few hours before almost drowned before reaching out and grabbing Christ’s hand, answered, “Where are we going to go?”
That was a good question by Peter. And so, my friends, where are you going to go?
Christ walked on water, which was a great sign, but on our altar at Mass He delivers more than a sign. He turns bread and wine into His Body and Blood. So, where you (and everyone else) needs to go is here. In His sacred temple, Christ multiplies food to feed an army on the move, so it can conquer its hated enemies: sin and death.
At the altar rail, Christ reaches out His hard-working hand to you. Should you grab the hand and shake it like you are equals? No. Should you grab the food He gives you and feed yourself? That is what the modernists these last several decades have told you to do. The modernists—who it can be argued, do not believe in the Holy Eucharist because they do not believe in miracles—told you that. They told you that you were now part of a new, “grown-up” Church that no longer needed to act like helpless children in God’s presence.
That is the exact opposite of what Christ said. And so, of course, our faith has collapsed in the meantime. It only makes sense. If the sheep do the opposite thing of what the shepherd says to do, then the sheep are going to become lost.
At the rail, with child-like faith, humbly submit to Christ. Do not reach out your hand as if you are His equal, for Christ will say, “Your heart first, your hand later.” Instead, drop your jaw and let the hand of the Lord feed you. On your knees do Him homage, and whisper under your breath, Truly, you are the Son of God.
Photo by JOHN TOWNER on Unsplash
