Read this coming Sunday’s gospel lesson (Matthew 14:22-33) to my friend Monty and he has a fit. Guaranteed. Sometimes we do it just to rile him up. “What the heck was Peter thinking?” he rants. Monty, you see, is an experienced sailor. He knows that you never jump out of the boat. The best way to survive is to stay in, hunker down and hang on…even in the worst of storms. “Peter is some kind of nut!” he will undoubtedly conclude. And while our usual response has been to laugh at the vigor of his objection, I’m beginning to think that Monty has a point.

It’s been popular among preachers and others to focus a lot of time and energy on Peter’s exploits in this text. He apparently takes Jesus at his word, goes over the side, and actually gets a few steps in before he is distracted by the still-raging storm and begins to sink. Jesus, naturally, saves his impetuous disciple and they all live happily ever after. The conclusion drawn is that Peter could have made it had he just not taken his eyes off Jesus. His failure is one of resolve; he doesn’t try hard enough. So if you all just try a little harder…

You get the idea. This is a great motivational speech. And it has a place in Christian tradition as an encouragement to stay focused on Christ. But it’s terrible as Gospel because it’s all about Peter’s effort and how we should emulate him…and be just a little better so Jesus won’t call us names like “ye of little faith.” Well, since when is “try a little harder and it will be OK” synonymous with the good news?

Another thing. As Jesus is walking towards the boat and its terrified occupants, he calls out to reassure them: “Take heart; it is I. Don’t be afraid.” Peter’s response? “Lord, if it is you…” Ahem. The only other two occurrences of “if it is really you” language in Matthew’s Gospel: It’s what the devil dares Jesus with as he tempts him in the wilderness. It’s how the crowd taunts Jesus on the cross. Whoa, Peter. Nasty company.

Maybe Monty is right. Maybe there’s just something wrong with this Peter who challenges Jesus and then dares to do what only God is able to do according to the scriptures: walk on water. In point of fact, he’s got no business getting out of that boat.

That’s not to say that the rest of Christ’s motley crew are heroes. Quite likely they were scared out of their wits. But, rather than challenging Jesus’ identity or taking on more than they were asked to do, they stayed in the boat where Jesus had put them and waited for their Savior to climb aboard and calm the sea…to do the stuff that a God and Savior can be counted on to do.

That, it seems to me, is the real good news here. Christ does not abandon his Church to the tempests and turmoils that confront our mission. Rather, he comes to us in our need and our fear, and delivers us from those things that threaten to destroy us.

Our job is to stay in the boat…to stay on task…to go where Jesus sends us…and to do what we are called first to do, i.e. to worship this one who saves us even in the midst of our doubts.

Sit down Peter and keep rowing. The Lord is about to come aboard.

I can feel it…a tiredness that can’t be slept away, a restlessness about my work and this place (as much as I love both), a frustration with my inability to fix the broken (especially that which is broken in me). When these things start to pile up inside, I know it’s time for a vacation.

Not that a few days off are going to fix everything. But they do afford the opportunity to gain a bit of perspective. Yes, there are chores to do around the house…more than I care to think about. But I will also be making time to read…time to pray…time to reflect…time to relax. Hopefully, these days will have some balance to them…a little slower pace than most of my life seems to have.

Yesterday’s Gospel reading is still bouncing around inside my head…especially the part about the soil types into which the seed of the Word is sown. Like most of the folks in this place, I’m a type-three soil, i.e. a field full of so much stuff (most of it really good stuff, by the way)…but so full that it’s difficult for anything to grow well.

Perhaps that’s what these next few days off can be…a time to weed the field. Here’s a thought: Rather than using our vacation days just to collapse, we might spend them in prayerful partnership with the Holy Spirit…pulling out the overgrowth that is no longer necessary or helpful, and in the process making room for the good seeds of grace, love, faith and hope to thrive.

See you next week…after some time for vacation.

Yea…that’s me. I’ve got a brand new machine. It’s tiny. It’s my datebook. It’s my phone. It’s my music player. It’s a camera. It gets email and surfs the internet. It’s a complete little computer with more memory than we had on our first two desk-top computers combined. And I can carry it in my pocket. Not to mention: I’ve got a laptop computer full of bells and whistles connected to the world via a high-speed LAN. I’ve got a 250 Gb portable hard drive that’s not much bigger than the old paper datebook I used to carry. I actually know how to use most of this stuff. I’m thinking about getting tights and a cape.

Until it breaks. Until the network goes down. Until the blue screen of death appears…right before your hard drive (in its death throes) eats all your files.

These are wonderful tools. They are wonderful toys. But that is all they are. Real back-up can’t be bought at Best Buy. The real software of life can’t be downloaded from Microsoft. Real power can’t be crammed into a machine in your pocket…and it doesn’t cost $300 or come with a two-year contract.

“I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” Jesus the Christ. Jesus the gift. Jesus the bread and the wine, the water and the Word, the hope and the joy and the power for our lives.

But you know this already. So do I. It’s just hard to live…and good to be reminded.