Sermon for the Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost (August 9, 2026)

Gospel: Matthew 14:22-33

The week I learned to ride a bike nearly 50 years ago was quite an adventure. Training wheels were nowhere to be seen; my parents had bought one that was ready to go. The only problem was that I wasn’t ready to go.

The balance needed to ride wasn’t easy to come by. I remember many hours of trying to get the bike going in a straight line, only to find myself riding in circles that gradually grew smaller and smaller until I fell over. There were more than a few moments when I forgot that pushing backward on the pedals was how I was supposed to stop the bike, and in those moments – moments of panic, as it turned out – I would find myself being stopped not by the brakes but rather by the bushes I crashed into.

The most important thing I learned about riding a bike was that it always worked better when I looked at the path ahead. When I looked at the horizon the balance was there, and I rode in a straight line. It was when I stopped looking ahead and looked instead at the ground around me or at the pedals or handlebars that I lost control.

In today’s Gospel reading, Peter had a similar experience, except that rather than trying to ride a bike he’s trying to walk on the water. Looking at how Peter reacted in situations throughout the Gospels, I’m not sure he would have made a good cyclist (at first). Many times he seemed to be focused on the here and now right around him, rather than looking at the bigger picture of the road ahead.

How did that work out for him?

In the previous chapter of Matthew, for instance, Peter responded to Jesus’ prediction of his death and resurrection by saying that it could never happen. What did he get for this? Jesus called him a stumbling block focused on earthly things rather than the things of heaven. In Matthew, Luke, and John, as we hear the story of the events leading up to the crucifixion, Peter proclaims that he would never deny Jesus – and we know very well how that worked out.

It’s no secret that Peter was emotional, impetuous, and strong-willed. However, in returning to the imagery of a bicycle, Peter crashes not because of emotion or strong will but rather because of a moment of shaky faith Just as my riding failed when I didn’t look ahead, Peter lost his balance when he took his eyes off Jesus in front of him and focused instead on the wind and waves and what was happening right around him. When we take our eyes off Christ, our strength – our faith – can begin to falter, and we, too, start to sink beneath the waves.

We’re called to live our lives like Christ. I once read somewhere that Peter is invited to walk on the water because it’s another way of being asked to live his life like Christ. Time and again we see these invitations: the disciples being asked to go out and preach and teach and heal; the invitation for us to pick up our crosses and follow him; being asked to give up our old lives and be born anew with Christ-centered lives, just as the 12 were invited to give up their fishing nets and counting tables and follow Jesus.

It’s well-known to us that Jesus never promised that following him would be easy. One commentator wrote that “Jesus desires disciples to imitate his works … and Jesus is training disciples who will not simply regurgitate his oral teachings but who will have the faith to demonstrate God’s authority in practice as well.”[1] But knowing the journey for them would be hard – and for most of the disciples, would require their very lives – Jesus also never gave up on them.

The disciples tried and failed, and then tried and failed, and kept right on trying. Through it all Jesus never abandoned them. He knew their faith was growing with each new misstep, and despite admonishing them – and even in some instances (to use something I remember my grandmother saying) “fussing at them” – he remained patient with them. He knew their full commitment – their full faith – would come.

At its heart faith is strong assurance and belief in something not because we see the proof for it, but despite it. We may not see Jesus before our eyes, but we know he’s there. We may not hear Jesus audibly next to us, but we hear his invitation to us. Peter lost his way, his balance, and perhaps a bit of his faith when he took his eyes off Jesus and forgot the invitation. When we take our eyes off Jesus in moments of storm, wind, and wave – forgetting the invitation we’ve received to follow and focusing instead on the chaos swirling around us – we too can lose our footing and our ability to see a clear path through the murkiness and desperation.

When we take our eyes off Jesus and tune out the call to follow, we begin to sink beneath the storm-tossed waves.

When we take our eyes off Jesus and tune out the call to follow, our faith begins to sink into the turmoil of life.

Through it all, though, Jesus remains. As Peter discovered, when we begin to go under the hand of Jesus is there to lift us up. The voice of Jesus is there to ask us, “Why did you doubt?” The love of Jesus is there to embrace us and steady us. The faith that we allow to be rooted in Jesus lifts us above the waves and calms the winds.

Accept the hand of Jesus and offer that hand to others. Keep your eyes on the Jesus who calls you to him – who calls you to walk above the waves, exercise your faith, rise above the difficulties of this world, and work to bring and be visible signs of the kingdom of God.

Amen.


[1] Craig S. Keener. A Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew, p. 407.