THE TEXT BELOW IS THE TRANSCRIPTION OF THE VIDEO COMMENTARY BY FR. FERNANDO ARMELLINI

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Greetings to all. 

Remember that last week’s gospel text concluded with the scene of the twelve apostles, who, after serving the crowd, Jesus had made lie down on the green grass, gathering twelve baskets of leftover bread, one basket for each apostle. I also pointed out that Matthew no longer mentioned fish, and the apostles had only bread. What did they do? They took it with them… Where to? This is the question. The evangelist Matthew answers it in today’s text with an enigmatic narration full of biblical symbolism that we will try to decipher. 

Jesus will give an order to the disciples: he will tell them where to take that bread—that, let’s say it immediately, is he himself. He is the Bread! He is the Word of life; that bread is his Gospel. Where should they take it? Let us listen: 

Then he made the disciples get into the boat and go ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. 

We have heard that Jesus did not merely tell his disciples to depart and go to the other side. He not only gave them a command; he compelled them. The Greek verb is ἠνάγκασεν (anankasen), which we translate as “compelled.” Jesus compels his disciples to depart and cross over to the other shore because they are reluctant to do so. They do not want to get into the boat and go alone. In the Gospel, the expression “to go to the other side” means “to go to the East.” Let’s look at a map of the Lake of Galilee. We will see that “to go toward the East” means to go toward the pagan land where people raise swine and, therefore, are considered impure and unclean. Jesus asks his disciples to bring to those people the Bread that—we have already said—is Christ himself, the Gospel. But they don’t want to take it to the other shore; they want to keep it for the holy people, for their people, the people of Israel. 

To fully understand today’s Gospel text, we must consider the situation in which Matthew’s community lives. Christian communities are concerned about a problem that affects them significantly. This time, the problem does not come from outside; it is not from the opposition of the pagan world; it is a problem internal to the community. What is it about? The book of Acts states that many Pharisees converted to Christ when they entered the Church. However, they created serious problems because they were still Pharisees, firm in their traditionalist positions, and resistant to accepting the novelty of the Gospel. The novelty of the Gospel is a very great thing: the unconditional love of God for all. The Pharisees still thought that God’s blessings were reserved for the sons and daughters of Abraham. They had not understood that the election of the people of Israel was not ‘against’ the pagans but for them. 

In this context, to help resolve this internal conflict in the community in the light of Christ, the evangelist Matthew introduces the text we are examining. It is a page of catechesis composed of images with biblical symbolism well known to the readers of Matthew and that we will also understand well. Therefore, the twelve leave reluctantly and go to the pagan land. Let us listen to how the text continues: 

After doing so, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone.

Strangely, Jesus does not go with the disciples to the other side but goes alone to the mountain to pray. What need was there to go to the mountain to pray? Then night comes, and he stays there alone on the hill. As a chronicle, the fact leaves us somewhat bewildered, but if we consider the symbolism of the mountain in the Bible and the Gospels, everything becomes clearer. The plain is where our life takes place; the mountain represents the world of God, and going up the mountain means meeting the Lord. 

The disciples we see leaving in the boat are alone, or at least they feel lonely because they do not have Jesus with them. Why has Jesus left them? Mark’s account tells us with an image: “Because evening has come.” It is the evening of Jesus; his day has ended—the day of his life—and he goes up the mountain. Now we understand what evening means in Matthew’s symbolism. This image represents the end of Jesus’ life. Jesus has left our world and entered the world of God. He has ministered to the crowd, symbolic of all humanity; he has concluded his mission; he has given his whole life, offering himself as bread and curing all diseases, and now he has entered the world of God. 

That is why the disciples are alone. Jesus is no longer visibly with them. I repeat that this is not a chronicle page but a parable composed by Matthew, using biblical symbolism to address the problems of his communities. Let’s look at these symbols. 

The boat is the Church; the community of disciples moves on the sea, and the sea symbolizes all that opposes life. In the boat are those who must carry Christ, the Gospel, to all without discrimination, to any people, nation, or culture, to whatever social condition they belong to. It is clear that the evil, represented by the image of the sea, will be opposed; all hostile forces will unite to prevent this crossing. 

The boat with the disciples does not move in the sunlight but only at night, in the darkness. What does this darkness mean? The book of Genesis tells us that the first creature of God was light, and ever since, in the Bible and in the New Testament, light has always symbolized everything beautiful and positive. Psalm 104 says: “God is wrapped in light as in a mantle” (Ps 104:2). The First Letter of John, right at the beginning, says: “God is light; in him, there is no darkness at all” (1 Jn 1:5). On the other hand, darkness and the black color it represents are symbols of the kingdom of evil and death. Job says that sheol, the world of death, is a land of darkness and gloom. Therefore, the darkness enveloping the disciples in the boat symbolizes the kingdom of evil and death, as well as their disorientation; they must fulfill an order of the Lord, but they hesitate, are confused, and seem no longer to see clearly where they should go. 

It is an image of the problems they faced in the communities of Matthew’s time, but not only those of that time. It is also an image of our ecclesial reality today. Do we not often feel enveloped by darkness? We are disoriented, aren’t we? We frequently don’t know which options to take, which positions to adopt, or how to move. So many certainties we see are questioned, and we wonder what will be correct and what will be wrong. Jesus assured us that the gates of the underworld, that is, the world of darkness and evil, will not resist the Gospel’s impact; it will break through all resistance. But often, we have the opposite feeling, namely, that the kingdom of evil is too strong for us, that it is invincible, impenetrable to the Gospel. And many times, we are also seized by the doubt that our commitment to the cause of the kingdom of God is no longer useful. These are the nights of our Church, the nights of abandonment, discouragement, opposition, and divisions within our communities. 

Also, on a personal level, we experience these anguishing nights; life sometimes confronts us with disturbing events, great dramas, betrayals, and injustices to such an extent that even our faith sometimes falters. We enter into crisis and ask ourselves whether it is still worthwhile to continue to behave according to the Gospel. We feel alone; we have the disturbing experience of what is called the silence of God; we no longer feel his presence at our side and do not hear his voice resounding loud and clear in our hearts. 

Let us now listen to what is happening to that boat, moving in the night, is it heading toward the goal indicated by Jesus: 

Meanwhile, the boat, already a few miles offshore, was being tossed about by the waves because the wind was against it. 

The waves tossed the boat. The Greek verb used is βασανιζόμενον (basanozómenon), which comes from βάσανος (básanos), a tough stone used in Asia Minor to test whether a metal was valuable or vile. The metal was rubbed with básanos. But here, the meaning of this verb is not just “to rub” but “to torture” to test the boat’s resistance. 

What are these waves? They are the tests that every Christian community faces today. What are these waves that shake and toss us today? We know them well: the waves of worldliness, which present to you as good what you like, as correct what the whole world does, and suggest to you as an ideal of a human being to be applauded when successful, that is, the opposite of what the Beatitudes of Jesus of Nazareth propose. 

And they are the waves of difficulties that come from within the Church, the waves of scandals, of the hardness of heart when listening to the word of God, the waves of obsolete traditions that some still insist on maintaining, and certain credulities that have nothing to do with the Gospel. These challenges the Christian community that wants to open itself entirely to the Gospel’s proposal. These trials make us suffer, but they can and must purify us because they reveal the gold of true faith and separate it from the common metals that have nothing to do with it. They are the waves we experience continually, and they also hit those who are insecure, undecided, and unconvinced, even when they are out of the boat. And then there is the headwind. Not just the waves, but the opposition of the wind. Christian communities do not have the wind at their stern. 

The Bible often speaks of the wind blowing against ships. Psalm 48, for example, describes the east wind that breaks the ships of Tarshish, and Psalm 107 speaks of the wind that causes storms on the sea, storms that sweep ships into the abysses and make the sailors stagger like drunks. This is a very effective portrayal of what is happening in our Christian communities today. It is the experience we all face and are called to. Worldliness never blows in favor of the Gospel. If, in the face of certain oppositions, we begin to doubt the choices we have made, it means that our faith in Christ is weak and fragile. 

But like the Twelve, do we believe we face the journey alone, abandoned, and forgotten by Jesus? Let us listen: 

During the fourth watch of the night, he came toward them, walking on the sea. 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.’ 

In all Ancient Middle Eastern cultures, the sea was considered a symbol of evil, the demonic, and death. In Babylon, the Akitu was a very famous New Year festival. During this feast, on the most solemn day, the high priest of Marduk chanted the Enuma Elish, the mythical account of Creation, which narrates a titanic struggle between the supreme god, Marduk, and Yam, the sea imagined as a monster who seeks to perpetuate chaos and prevent life. 

We also find in the Bible a mythical image of the sea as an enemy monster that the Lord confronts. The God of Israel does not defeat it after an epic struggle; he dominates it over time with his word. In the Book of Job, the prophet expresses his profound grief and laments to a God who seems indifferent. God finally intervenes to answer him and, at one point, asks him: “Where were you when I created the world when I laid the earth’s foundations? Where were you when I formed the mountains?” And then: “Where were you when I spoke to the sea: ‘Thus far shall you come but no farther, and here shall your proud waves stop?’” (Job 38:11). Here is God who quietly dominates the sea with his word. 

Understanding this symbolism is essential to grasp the story we are examining. The disciples are not afraid of drowning in the waters of the Sea of Tiberias or the little lake of Tiberias; after all, they are skilled swimmers. The only one who probably didn’t know how to swim was Jesus, who came from the mountains of Lower Galilee, from Nazareth. Other waters frighten the disciples; they fear being submerged by the waters of paganism and failing in their mission. This is the situation of the communities at the end of the first century and of our communities today. 

In this dramatic situation, Jesus appears, walking on the sea’s waters. This event is recounted twice because it is essential. He does not fear the waves that frighten the disciples; he walks calmly on the waters and treads them as one who can put the enemy under his feet. Who is this? The book of Job tells us that only God walks on the sea’s waves (Job 9:8). The disciples see him but do not recognize him; they think he is a ghost. Matthew is not recounting a material fact; he is describing, with biblical images, the situation of the Christian communities tormented by so many trials, distressed by doubts, and, above all, disoriented by the fact that they no longer have with them the Master who would have infused them with security and courage. 

The evangelist wants to enlighten these communities and ours as well, and therefore reminds them of a truth they know well and should always keep in mind: the Risen One has not gone away; he has not abandoned them to their fate; he is always by their side, as he promised, until the end of the world, not physically, as when he walked the streets of Palestine, but in a different way, no less real. Moreover, he is next to each one because limitations no longer constrain him in space and time. Previously, when he was in Nazareth, he was not in Capernaum, and his mother felt distant from him. Now he is no longer distant because all the limits of space and time have collapsed. But there is no need to confuse him with ghosts. On Easter day, when the Risen One appears amid the assembled disciples, they are frightened and astonished, thinking they see a ghost. It is him, but in a completely different condition, and material eyes cannot see him; only the gaze of faith can recognize him. 

Let us ask ourselves whether we are aware of the real presence of the Risen One at our side, or whether this presence is rather vague and fleeting, like that of a ghost. Yes, it does not influence our choices. If we don’t feel it present, it’s no wonder we are frightened in challenging moments when we feel lonely. 

Matthew introduces, in the narration, the account of Jesus walking on the water, which we also find in Mark and John. However, only Matthew introduces a strange request from Peter to Jesus. Let us listen: 

Peter replied to him, ‘Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.’ He said, ‘Come.’ Peter stepped out of the boat and began to walk on the water toward Jesus. But when he saw how strong the wind was, he became frightened; and, beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’ Immediately, Jesus reached out his hand, caught him, and said to him, ‘O you of little faith, why did you doubt?’ 

Peter’s question is not only strange but completely improbable. How can an experienced swimmer like him be afraid of sinking in the waters of the Lake of Galilee? Here, we reach the apex of this story’s symbolism. Peter’s fear is another: after giving his life as Jesus asks him, he will be swallowed up forever by the sea’s waters, which is death. This image recurs in the Bible. The psalmist, the author of Psalm 18, recounts the drama he lived through when a deadly disease came upon him, describing it as follows: “I was bound with deadly snares, destructive torrents terrified me.” “Sheol, the ocean’s waves were about to submerge me.”

Peter’s fear is this: ‘If I go to Jesus, that is, if I do what he asks me to do, that is, to lay down my life as he has done, will I not lose it, will I not be devoured forever by the waters of death? And, in the end, shall I not remain remorseful for not having enjoyed life like the Gentiles?’ This is Peter’s fear, the fear of giving his life. 

Peter knows that the waters of death did not swallow Jesus. This account was written after the disciples had experienced the Risen One. But Peter wants to be sure that the same thing he saw happen to Jesus will happen to him, that is, entrance into life, into the world of God. Jesus invites him to come to him and asks him to do what he has done. Peter tries, but then he doubts he has made the right decision. He begins to be afraid. 

Peter is the image of our condition as undecided, doubtful disciples. We believe in Jesus, but up to a point we no longer trust in giving our lives, or we are unwilling to give it all. At a certain point, we even want to keep it for ourselves. The doubt is not that Jesus is wrong or that the gift of life for love is not the right choice; the suspicion is something else. It’s that we don’t feel very confident we can go all the way. So, what does Peter do? He asks the Lord for help. That’s what we are invited to do; he can give us the strength of his Spirit to live as Jesus did. This doubt, Jesus says, is the sign of a scarcity of faith; we have a little faith but not much. We trust him, but only up to a point. 

Perhaps it would have been better for Peter not to get out of the boat, to stay with the other disciples, and to make another choice. Let us listen: 

After they got into the boat, the wind died down. Those in the boat did him homage, saying, ‘Truly, you are the Son of God.’ 

We must go through many dark moments and storms in our lives. What should we do in those moments? Peter decides to leave the boat; he should have stayed with his brothers and done what Jesus had asked: “Confirm your brothers in the faith.” This is the task Jesus gave him, but he stepped out of the boat. He was to welcome Jesus into the boat, that is, to make all his brothers aware that the Risen One is not a ghost but a real presence in the Christian community and in the life of each of us. 

The message of this passage is precisely this: In the difficult moments of your life and in the stormy moments of the Church, embrace the Gospel, embrace Christ in your life, and welcome Christ into the life of the Church, and you will realize that the storms will subside. 

I wish you all a good Sunday and a good week.