John Chrysostom
The passage from Matthew’s Gospel, detailing the turmoil of the sea, Christ’s miraculous walk upon the waters, and the fright of the apostles, provides us with a meaningful context to consider the words of the prophet: “the rivers, O Lord, have lifted up their voices, the rivers have lifted up their voices, the rivers have raised their waves on high, because of the tumultuous movement of the waters of many: marvellous are the high waves of the sea, marvellous in the highest is the Lord.” What do we understand by these ‘high waves of the sea’? Is it not the Savior’s miracle that calmed the chaotic waters with just a single command? The rivers that cry out amidst the sea represent the disciples of Christ. The apostles are like rivers flowing from the eternal Source—Christ Himself, echoing His words: “out of the belly shall flow rivers of living water” (John 7:38). Just as the Lord performed continuous miracles, the apostles, gripped by the tempest, remained anchored in truth. In the fourth watch of the night, witnessing the Lord walking on the sea, they mistook Him for an apparition. How could they perceive a ghost? The sea that bore Him on its surface recognized its Creator, yet His own disciples did not identify their Master. Despite witnessing numerous miracles, they harbored doubt as they beheld Him walking upon the waves. Did He not part the sea with the rod of Moses, creating a dry path for the Israelites? They feared an apparition, trembling with dread where there was no cause for fear (Psalm 13:5), for they were startled by the reality of life standing before them. Amidst their fright, Peter boldly called to the Lord, saying, “Lord, if it is You, command me to come to You by water.” The Lord replied, “Come” (Matthew 14:28, 29), and assured the disciples: “Be encouraged; it is I, do not be afraid” (Matt. 14:27). I declare my truth, unmasked as the very embodiment of Truth, here to dispel the illusions. “It is I; do not be afraid! Why fear the winds? Is it not I who has declared, ‘He pours out the winds from His treasuries’ (Psalm 134:7)? I have permitted these winds, not to frighten you, but to strengthen your faith.”
Once the Lord spoke, Peter, overflowing with faith, responded again, “Lord, are you the Christ? Your words reveal you, yet your actions bring me doubt; we have never seen you walk over the sea. If you are indeed the Christ, command me to come to you on the waters.” The Lord assured him, “Go, if your faith sustains you, for I will not entertain any pretense. If you doubt, do not venture forth.” Heeding the Lord’s call, Peter walked on the water, sustained by faith untainted by doubt. However, after moving a short distance, he succumbed to fear, questioning the astounding miracle before him: I walk upon the sea, yet the water is akin to dust beneath me. As Peter faltered, the sea stirred in response to his wavering faith, seeking to engulf him. Upon recognizing that faith buoyed him upon the water, while doubt led to turmoil, he cried out, “Lord, save me” (Matthew 14:30). What do you say, Peter? Now, amidst danger, you acknowledge the Lord? What is Christ? I will not allow your downfall; I will extend my hand to you, for I govern all creation. “Jesus immediately reached out His hand, caught him, and said to him, ‘O you of little faith, why do you doubt?’ (Matthew 14:31). The apostles experienced many uncertainties. Their hesitations persisted until the Resurrection; it was only post-Resurrection, empowered by confirmation, that they stood resolute in their faith. You heard how, later in the evening, the apostles approached the Lord, stating, “This place is deserted and the hour is late; send the people away to the villages to buy food for themselves” (Matthew 14:15; cf. Mark 6:32; Luke 9:10). Here again, observe their uncertain thoughts. They petition the Savior, “Must we send the people away from this deserted place?” The Lord challenged them: “Why do you seek to dismiss them? Isn’t my presence enough? Shall I merely let them go to seek sustenance? What would those from whom they buy bread think? Buying loaves in my sight? If truly we had no bread, it would be fitting to release them; but now I am the Bread of Life—how can I send away those who seek nourishment from Me? They come to me for sustenance, and I would turn them away? What shepherd would abandon his flock? To Daniel in the lions’ den, I sent Abbacum with food; for the ungrateful Israelites, I provided manna for forty years. Shall I deny the grateful the food they seek? Certainly not! ‘You give them something to eat’ (Matthew 14:16). The apostles inquired, “Should we provide food? From where shall we acquire it? We have nothing but five loaves and two fish—even that is insufficient for five thousand men, not to mention women and children!” The Lord replied, “Where will you find this provision? You possess the treasury of faith. Did I not say that if you had the faith of a mustard seed, and commanded a mountain to move, it would obey you, and nothing would be impossible for you?” (Matt. 17:20; Matt. 21:22). The mountains yield to faith, yet you doubt that the loaves could multiply? You are to feed them. As confusion clouded the apostles, the Lord instructed them, “Have them sit down” (Lk. 9:14). I came to serve, and I do not shy from humbling myself before even the lowest. From the beginning, it was my purpose to serve: I ministered to Adam in Paradise.
This bears explanation of how and when God served Adam. Listen closely. We owe a great debt of gratitude to God on the sixth day—the final day of creation—when we were given the promise. Then God honored Adam, inviting him into partnership in dominion over all creatures. In paradise, the Creator raised Adam and brought every creature to him, that he might name them as he wished. From the outset, the Master did not hesitate to please His servant, His creation; thus, in today’s Gospel, He does not hesitate to serve His disciples, placing them on the grass, taking the loaves, breaking them, and distributing them to the crowds, feeding, multiplying (the loaves), and performing wonders to satisfy the people. In the same manner as in Paradise, demonstrating His goodness towards creation, the Creator brought each animal to Adam for him to name, sharing governance with him; this is supported by Scripture: “The Lord God formed out of the earth all the animals of the field, and all the birds of the sky, and brought them to man, to see what he would call them; and whatever man called a living being, that was its name” (Genesis 2:19). The intent was to teach that these creatures were entrusted to him. Has any angel been honored as mankind has? Man, fashioned with divine hands, was served by the Creator, first by the presentation of the animals, and secondly by providing garments. Demonstrating the same to His disciples during His earthly ministry, He commenced the washing of their feet, recalling the likeness of the original creation. When Peter initially rebuffed the washing, the Lord responded, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with Me” (John 13:8). I served Adam by presenting him with the animals and by forming his wife from his rib, giving him what belonged to him. All this underscores that man alone among God’s creation is chosen, made in His image, esteemed with a glory not shared by any other creature, as it is written: “Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness” (Genesis 1:26). God’s favor towards humanity was immense, elevating Adam to a glory that no other creature attained. But Adam squandered this and fell into a state of wretchedness; rather than ruling, he became enslaved, from a sovereign to a beggar, who once basked in divine beauty, was now left with nothing; he who communed daily with God now hid like a thief in the bushes; he who was granted paradise now found himself cast out, yearning for what he lost while surrounded by the harshness of life. What else could Adam do outside Paradise, suffering under the burden of tilling the ground, drenched in sweat but to blame his wife, reproaching her: “Look at the fruits of your counsel—by your yielding to the serpent, I have lost the gift of God. Did you not promise me, wife, that if I ate the forbidden fruit, I would be blessed? Did you not pledge that I would become a god by consuming the fruit? How did I, who was meant to be divine, end up laboring like a farmer? You have deceived me and must bear the consequences; I lost a rib yet gained no help. Woe to you, Eve, mother of death, initiator of disobedience, cause of my exile from Paradise, confidante of the serpent, obedient instrument of the devil! Depart from me: why have you taken my immortality? Why did you tear my royal garments? They were not made by you to destroy. Why did you compel me to sew fig leaves? Why did you, deceiver, bring me that fatal fruit, with promises: ‘In the day you consume it, your eyes shall be opened and you shall be as gods, knowing good and evil’ (Gen. 3:5)? What have you done, wife? I am blinded; I cannot see. I have pursued evil and pushed good away. I toil like a beast, far from divine dominion. Depart from me; I know not who you are. Before I engage with you, I seek deliverance; I will not endure this labor. And you do not know care; you have not tasted sorrow—remember the judgment awaits you at childbirth. Leave me; you have made me guilty of unspeakable afflictions. I am condemned to toil the ground, to eat by the sweat of my brow, while the earth brings forth thorns and thistles. How shall I prepare my field? How shall I harness the oxen? How shall I sow the seed? When shall I see my harvest? How shall I gather the sheaves? How do I place them on the cart? How do I set up the threshing floor and separate the wheat? How do I set the millstones? When shall I prepare the leaven? What mold shall I use? How do I kindle the fire? The grief is too much. After enduring toil and sweat, I earn my daily bread. See how many evils you have brought upon me, O wife, once called life but turned out to be death! And indeed, the root of death is woman—then and now. Let not women take offense at my words; if they wish to rebuke me, let them rather accuse the Apostle Paul. Should they wish to critique him, let them express their discontent towards him. As his followers, we will convey his words, without embellishment. Hear Paul through our lips: “I have betrothed you to one husband, so that I may present you to Christ as a pure virgin. But I fear, as the serpent deceived Eve, that your minds may be corrupted” (2 Cor. 11:2, 3). Do you see that it was not the husband who was seduced, but rather the wife? Who was deceived? Who placed faith in the serpent’s flattery? It was the woman, who hosted the serpent's venom, casting slander. Who engaged with the serpent? She who sought seduction. In Paradise, it was merely she and her husband, and yet, she wandered about, unafraid of solitude, searching for companionship, untested by matrimony yet flirting with betrayal. Had she remained with her husband, neither serpent nor echidna would have encountered her. He found her separated from her husband and deceived her. A wife who remains by her lawful husband will avoid destruction, won’t suffer a fall, and will not yield to temptation. But if she strays, even among the angels, she is easily seduced. Where do the wives who stray from their husbands indulge sinful acts, but at the tombs of the martyrs, under the guise of devotion, conspiring with those who would offend marital vows? They may make oaths of fidelity among themselves in the names of the martyrs. Oh, the magnitude of evil Eve wrought and how much goodness she undermined! All women devoted to purity rightfully bear the name of virtue. There exists a significant distinction between virtuous women as between men and angels. Those women who uphold chastity model their lives after the Virgin, honor Susanna, admire Sarah, and embrace Rebekah. But those who forsake chastity stray like Eve, slandering like the Egyptian woman, betraying like Delilah, and murdering God’s servants like Jezebel. This is not merely personal; it resonates throughout creation.