Keep Your Eyes on Jesus

Learning to Recognize God

Sometimes we can be too quick to say, God did this.

Or just as quickly:

God must not be here.

Discernment matters.

St. John tells us elsewhere in Scripture to test the spirits, and Elijah gives us a beautiful example of discernment in today’s first reading.

He stands on Horeb, the mountain of God.

A powerful wind tears through the mountains.

But the Lord is not in the wind.

Then comes an earthquake.

The Lord is not in the earthquake.

Then fire.

The Lord is not in the fire.

Finally comes a tiny whispering sound.

Elijah recognizes the presence of God and covers his face.

We often want God to be unmistakably dramatic.

Sometimes He is.

But sometimes His presence comes quietly.

Without spectacle.

Without the answer we expected.

Without anything impressive enough to grab everyone’s attention.

The question is whether we are learning to recognize Him.

Not Everything Powerful Is God

We are naturally drawn to what is big.

A charismatic personality.

A powerful speaker.

A dramatic experience.

Something emotionally overwhelming.

But Elijah reminds us that power and spectacle alone do not prove God is present.

Sometimes the person through whom God speaks most clearly may be quiet, reserved, and easily overlooked.

Sometimes His direction comes as a gentle conviction we notice only because we have become quiet enough to listen.

God is free to come as He chooses.

Faith learns His voice rather than demanding that He always speak on our terms.

Surrounded by Gifts and Still Missing Him

St. Paul reflects in the second reading on the extraordinary gifts given to Israel.

Theirs were the adoption.

The glory.

The covenants.

The law.

The worship.

The promises.

The patriarchs.

And ultimately, from them came Christ Himself.

They had been surrounded by signs of God's presence.

And yet many still did not recognize Jesus when He came.

That should make us humble.

We can be surrounded by Catholic things and still miss the Lord.

Sacraments.

Scripture.

A parish.

Prayer.

Traditions.

All of these are tremendous gifts.

But they are meant to bring us into relationship with a Person.

We still have to learn to recognize Him.

Ten Hours in the Storm

Then comes the Gospel.

Jesus sends the disciples across the sea while He goes up the mountain alone to pray.

The disciples encounter a violent storm.

The wind is against them.

The waves batter the boat.

And Jesus does not appear immediately.

They struggle through the night.

By the fourth watch, somewhere between three and six in the morning, they have been fighting the storm for hours.

Imagine how abandoned they might have felt.

Where is Jesus?

Why isn't He doing something?

Why did He send us out here?

Those are not unfamiliar questions.

There are seasons in our own lives when we wonder:

Lord, where are You?

Why are You allowing this?

Why aren't You answering me?

But while the disciples were struggling on the sea, Jesus was on the mountain praying.

They could not see Him.

That did not mean He had forgotten them.

The Real Battle

Then Jesus comes toward them, walking on the water.

The disciples are terrified.

Even when Jesus appears, they initially misinterpret His presence.

They think He is a ghost.

And Jesus immediately says:

“Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.”

The Gospel is not presenting a contest between Jesus and the storm, as though we have to wonder which is more powerful.

Jesus is Lord.

The sea is beneath His feet.

The deeper battle is happening inside the disciples.

Will they trust Him?

Will they recognize Him even when He approaches in a way they did not expect?

Will fear interpret reality for them, or will faith?

Peter Gets Out of the Boat

Peter desperately wants to be with Jesus.

“Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”

Jesus says one word:

“Come.”

And Peter gets out.

For a moment, Peter does the impossible.

He walks on water toward Jesus.

Then he notices the wind.

His attention shifts.

Fear returns.

And he begins to sink.

“Lord, save me!”

Immediately Jesus reaches out and catches him.

Jesus does not hesitate.

He takes hold of Peter.

Peter's problem is not that he has no faith at all.

He had enough faith to leave the boat.

The problem is that his heart becomes divided between trust in Jesus and fear of the storm.

We know that experience.

We believe.

And we are afraid.

We trust.

And then we look at everything that might go wrong.

We want Jesus.

And at the same time, we want the security we think the boat can give us.

The Boat Cannot Save Peter

There is something beautiful about Peter leaving the boat.

He realizes that ultimately the boat cannot save him.

Jesus can.

The boat represents everything we naturally rely on to make ourselves feel secure.

Our abilities.

Experience.

Money.

Plans.

Control.

Other people.

None of these things is necessarily bad.

Peter was an experienced fisherman. A boat was exactly where a fisherman belonged during a storm.

But there are moments when Christ asks us to recognize that no created thing can give the security only He can give.

Peter sinks.

Jesus catches him.

And together they return to the boat.

When Jesus enters, the wind dies down.

The disciples worship Him:

“Truly, you are the Son of God.”

The storm has led them somewhere deeper.

To worship.

For Moms

Fear has a way of narrowing our vision.

A child is struggling, and suddenly the struggle is all we can see.

Something goes wrong at school, in a relationship, with money, or in the family, and our minds immediately begin racing toward every possible outcome.

We can still believe in Jesus while giving the storm most of our attention.

That is Peter.

He really did trust Jesus.

He really did walk toward Him.

And then the wind became more convincing than the One standing in front of him.

The invitation is not to pretend the wind is weak.

Sometimes the storm really is frightening.

The invitation is to keep asking:

Where is Jesus in this?

He may be coming in a way we did not expect.

He may be speaking very quietly.

He may seem absent while He is actually nearer than we realize.

And when all we can manage is:

“Lord, save me,”

that is a prayer too.

Family Practice

Choose one quiet minute together each day this week.

No phones. No television. No talking.

Begin with:

“Speak, Lord. Help us recognize Your presence.”

Then simply sit in silence.

Teach your children that God does not always need to shout to be near.