Herod the king is one person, Herod the tetrarch, his son, is another. After King Herod’s death the Romans divided his kingdom into a tetrarchy, and one part of the tetrarchy went to his son. This is the man who beheaded the Forerunner and who, for this reason, received his due punishment not long afterward.^[1]

The Jews had different opinions about the resurrection. Some of them were false. The Sadducees did not believe in the resurrection of the dead or in the existence of angels. They believed those things that were written about them were only to be interpreted figuratively but had no reality in point of fact.^[1] Other Jewish views of the resurrection were true, such as were taught by the Pharisees about the resurrection of the dead—that they rise.

We must now therefore inquire about the opinion regarding the soul, which was mistakenly held by Herod and some from among the people. It ran something like this: John, who a little earlier had been slain by him, had risen from the dead after he had been beheaded. This person who had risen was the same person under a different name, one now called Jesus. Herod imagined that Jesus possessed the same powers that formerly worked in John. If the powers that worked in John had passed over to Jesus, Jesus was thus thought by some to actually be John the Baptist.

The return of Elijah fueled this idea. Here is the line of argument. It was the spirit and power of Elijah that had returned in John. This is Elijah who is to come.^[2] The spirit in Elijah possessed the power to go into John. So Herod thought that the powers John worked in baptism and teaching had a miraculous effect in Jesus, even though John did not do miracles. It may be said that something of this kind was the underlying thought of those who said that Elijah had appeared in Jesus or that one of the old prophets had risen.

Thinking that the Baptist had risen from the dead, Herod began to be afraid of him, as though John had become all the more powerful. He was alarmed lest John should employ against him even more of his caustic freedom of speech, which was a terror to him, frustrating him by revealing his crooked deeds.

Do you see the intensity of his fear? Herod did not dare speak of it openly, but he still speaks apprehensively to his own servants. Yet this whole opinion was absurd. It savored of the jittery soldier. Even though many were thought to have risen from the dead, no one had done anything like what was imagined of John. Herod’s words seem to me to be the language both of vanity and of fear. For such is the nature of unreasonable souls; they often accept a mixture of opposite passions.

We have frequently advised that all diligence must be applied to the reading of the Gospels, for in the narration of the different events one may arrive at a deeper understanding. There is indeed an order to the narration of all the works, but the underlying cause behind the effects of the narrated events is preestablished, as with Herod and John.

John, as we frequently noted, preferred the form of the law, because the law foretold Christ and John proceeded from the law, announcing Christ from the law. Herod, on the other hand, was the prince of the people, and the prince of the people embraces the name and interests of his subjects. John accordingly advised Herod not to take to himself his brother’s wife. There were and there are two peoples: one people of the circumcision and the other of the Gentiles. But the law admonished Israel not to ally itself with the works of the Gentiles and with infidelity. Infidelity is associated with the Gentiles, as if by a bond of conjugal love. Because of the truth of this stern admonition by John, he was confined in prison like the law.

Ancient history tells us that Philip the son of Herod the Great (under whom the Lord fled into Egypt), the brother of that Herod under whom Christ suffered, took as his wife Herodias the daughter of King Phetrai. Later his father-in-law, after a rivalry between him and his son-in-law, took his daughter and, to the great chagrin of the first husband, Herod his enemy united with her in marriage. As to just who this Philip was, Luke the Evangelist notes clearly, In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberias Caesar, and Herod being tetrarch of Galilee, and his brother Philip tetrarch of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis.^[1]

Therefore John the Baptist, who had come in the spirit and power of Elijah, with the same authority whereby the latter had rebuked Ahab and Jezebel, upbraided Herod and Herodias because they had entered into an unlawful marriage. He did so because it is not lawful to take the wife of one’s own living brother. John preferred to incur the king’s anger rather than, through fawning, be unmindful of God’s commandments.

John aroused Herod by his moral admonitions, not by any formal accusation. He wanted to correct, not to suppress. Herod, however, preferred to suppress rather than be reconciled. To those who are held captive, the freedom of the one innocent of wrongdoing becomes hateful. Virtue is undesirable to those who are immoral; holiness is abhorrent to those who are impious; chastity is an enemy to those who are impure; integrity is a hardship for those who are corrupt; frugality runs counter to those who are self-indulgent; mercy is intolerable to those who are cruel, as is loving-kindness to those who are pitiless and justice to those who are unjust. The Evangelist indicates this when he says, John said to him, ‘It is not lawful for you to have the wife of your brother Philip.’ This is where John runs into trouble. He who admonishes those who are evil gives offense. He who repudiates wrongdoers runs into trouble. John was saying what was proper of the law, what was proper of justice, what was proper of salvation and what was proper certainly not of hatred but of love. And look at the reward he received from the ungodly for his loving concern!

And though he wanted to put him to death, he feared the people. That person readily turns away from justice who, in matters at issue, fears not God but people. Such fear can restrain the power to sin but is unable to remove the will to sin. Hence, those whom it has restrained from crime, it makes all the more eager to return to crime. It is only the fear of God that can set minds straight, repel criminal actions, preserve innocence and give steadfast power. But let us focus on the passionate intensity of blessed John.

On Herod’s birthday—that is, amid the delights of corporeal things—the daughter of Herodias danced. With every enticing movement she made, she exuded sensual pleasure as though from the infidelity that arose through all the joys of Israel. The people gave themselves over to this. All were corrupted by an oath. Through sin and the pleasures of the world, the Israelites sold the gifts of eternal life. The girl requested of her mother—who herself had a knack for infidelity—that the head of John, symbolizing the glory of the law, be brought to her. For the law had exposed incestuous Israel with the authority of the divine commandments.

You have heard, brothers, that sensual pleasure may give birth to great cruelty. And his head was brought on a platter.^[1] The house is converted into an arena, the table changes into a stall at the amphitheater, the birthday guests turn into spectators, the feast grows into a furor, the food ripens into carnage, the wine transforms into blood, the birthday changes into a funeral, sunrise evolves into sunset, the banquet is altered into a bloody killing, and musical instruments perform the tragedy of the ages. A creature enters the room, not a girl; a lynx, not a maiden, moves to the music. She has the mane of an animal, not hair, sprouting up from the crown of her head. She spreads out her limbs with twists and turns; she steadily grows in ferocity. She becomes cunning in cruelty, not in body. And this extraordinarily wild animal lets out a growl. She gnashes her teeth. She does not take up a sword but produces one. Prompted by her mother, the Evangelist says, and taking an arrow from her mother’s heart, this uncanny creature, with contempt for the prize of John’s body, slithers through the hall to have his head cut off.

Shortly before, Herod indicated that he wanted to kill John. He hesitated for fear of the people, because they considered him to be a prophet. But now, upon the request for John’s death, since Herod was bound formally by the ritual of an oath, how is it that he suddenly becomes sorry? His former willingness is incompatible with his present unwillingness, and the annoyance he now feels is contrary to what he felt before. Previously there was an orderly sequence to what transpired, but now the situation has gotten out of hand. Sensual pleasure springing up from infidelity has seized the glory of the law. But the people, aware of the good things in the law, wink at the pleasurable circumstances not without misgivings as to their own peril. They know it is inappropriate for them to turn away from the glory of the commandments. Yet four factors cause them to give in to sin: an oath, fear of the leaders, the allurements of pleasure and a bad example.

It is customary in the Scriptures for the historian to narrate the opinion of many, as it was held by them at the time. Even as Joseph is called the father of Jesus by Mary herself, Herod now is said to be exceedingly sad because his guests thought that he was. An artful deceiver and a skilled assassin, he preferred to show a sad face when his mind registered joy.

And she being instructed beforehand by her mother, said, Give me here John the Baptist’s head on a platter.

Her reproach is twofold: first, that she danced, then that she pleased him and so pleased him as to obtain even murder for her reward.

Do you see how savage he was, how senseless, how foolish? He puts himself under the obligation of an oath while to her he gives full power over her request.

But when Herod saw the evil actually ensuing, he was sorry, it is said. Yet in the first instance he had put him in prison. Why then is he sorry? Such is the nature of virtue. Even among the wicked admiration and praises are its due. But alas for her madness! When she also ought to admire, yes, to bow down to him for trying to redress her wrong, she rather even helps to arrange the plot, lays a snare and asks a diabolical favor.

But he was afraid for the oath’s sake, it is said, and those that sat with him at dinner. Why did he not fear that which is far more fearful? Surely if Herod was afraid of having witnesses to perjury, much more should he fear having so many witnesses of a murder so lawless.

Amid the other enjoyments of the profligate company, the head of John is brought on a platter. Thus the pleasures of the body and worldly extravagance reach the point where the girl carries the head to her mother. And so shameful Israel surrenders the glory of the law to the pleasure and infidelity of its Herodian household, who were formerly Gentiles. Now that the time of the law is over and buried with John, his disciples announce to the Lord the events that transpired, as they leave the law and come to the Gospels.

Josephus relates that in a certain town of Arabia John’s head had been cut off.^[1] As to the words that follow, and his disciples came and took the body, we presume these people are the disciples of both John and the Savior.

We see him on many occasions departing. We see this when John was imprisoned^[1] and killed and when the Jews heard that he was making more disciples.^[2] For it was his will to live his life in an ordinary rhythm of interaction and solitude. The time had not yet come for him to reveal his divine glory plainly. This is why Jesus told his disciples to tell no one that he is the Christ.^[3] His will was that this should be better known after his resurrection. During this time he was not very severe with those who were obstinate in their unbelief. Rather, he was prone to be indulgent with them.

On retiring, he departs not into a city but into a wilderness. He leaves in a boat so that no one would follow him.

But note how the disciples of John had by now become more attached to Jesus. For it was they who told him of the event. They in fact had left everything and taken refuge in John. In their calamity Jesus makes provision for them, and in doing so he does them no small benevolence.

But why did he not withdraw before they brought the news to him? Didn’t Jesus know the fact of John’s death even before they reported it to him? He did not want to make his identity known at this point. The divine economy did not require it. For it was not by his appearance only but by his actions that Jesus would have his identity confirmed. He knew the devil’s craft and that he would leave nothing undone to destroy Christ’s revelation.

This is why Jesus withdrew. But the crowds do not withdraw from him. They try to follow him, as if riveted to him. Not even John’s tragic end diverted or frightened them. So great a thing is earnest desire, so great a thing is love, that it overcomes and dispels all dangers.

They announced the death of the Baptist to the Savior. When Jesus heard this, he withdrew to a lonely place apart, but not, as some people think, for fear of death. He withdrew to spare his enemies from compounding one murder with another or to defer his death to the day of Passover on which a lamb is ritually offered up and doorposts are sprinkled with the blood of the faithful. Or else he withdrew in order to give us an example of avoiding the foolhardiness of those who betrayed him, because not everyone perseveres amid torments with the same constancy they had when they offered themselves to be tortured. For this reason in another place he gave this admonition: When they persecute you in this city, flee to another.^[1] It was also fitting that the Evangelist did not say he fled to a lonely place but he withdrew, so that he avoided his persecutors rather than feared them.

Note carefully the Teacher’s skill. Observe with what discretion he draws them toward believing. Observe how deliberately this unfolds. For he did not simply say, I will feed them. The deeper significance of that would have not been easily understood. So what does he say? They need not go away; you give them something to eat.

He did not say I give them but you give them. For at this point their regard for him was essentially as to a man. They said to him, We have only five loaves here and two fish. At this point Mark adds, They did not understand the saying, for their heart was hardened.^[1] For they were continuing to crawl like babies.

Let us examine carefully what this sending away of the crowds is all about. Some of those who followed Christ were afflicted by evil spirits and begged to be delivered from them. Others were afflicted with various sicknesses from which they sought relief. Therefore, because the disciples knew that Jesus had only to consider what those who were suffering longed for and it would be accomplished, they sent them away. They did this not so much because they thought Jesus’ time was too valuable but because they had a love for the crowds and, as though already having an understanding of pastoral care, they began to care for the people.

When the disciples advised that the crowds be sent away into the neighboring villages to buy food, he answered, They do not need to go away. This signaled that these people whom he healed with the food of teaching, teaching that was not for sale, had no need to go back to Judea and buy food. He ordered the apostles to give them something to eat.

But was Jesus unaware there was nothing to give? Did he not know the disciples possessed a limited amount of food? He could read their minds, so he knew. We are invited to explain things by reasoning according to types. It was not yet granted to the apostles to make and administer heavenly bread for the food of eternal life. Yet their response reflected an ordered reasoning about types: they had only five loaves and two fish. This means that up to then they depended on five loaves—that is, the five books of the law. And two fish nourished them—that is, the preaching of the prophets and of John. For in the works of the law there was life just as there is life from bread, but the preaching of John and the prophets restored hope to human life by virtue of water.^[1] Therefore the apostles offered these things first, because that was the level of their understanding at the time. From these modest beginnings the preaching of the gospel has proceeded from them, from these same apostles, until it has grown into an immense power.

Finally he said to them, Bring them here to me. Although this was a deserted place, he that is here is ready to feed the world. The one who is speaking to you is not subject to time, even though the day is now over.

In John’s Gospel it is further related that these were loaves of barley.^[1] This is not mentioned accidentally but with the object of teaching us to trample under foot^[2] the pride of costly living. Such was also the diet of the prophets.

Having taken the bread and the fish, the Lord looked up to heaven, then blessed and broke them. He gave thanks to the Father that, after the time of the law and the prophets, he himself was soon to be changed into evangelical food. After this the people were ordered to sit on the grass but not to lie down. Supported by the law, each one was covered as it were with the fruit of his works as with the grass on the ground.

They are ordered to sit down on the grass and, according to another Evangelist, to recline in groups of hundreds and of fifties. In this way from the repentance of the fifty,^[1] they ascended toward the perfect summit of one hundred.^[2]

He looked up to heaven that he might teach them to keep their eyes focused there. He then took in hand five loaves of bread and two fish; he broke the loaves and gave the food to the disciples. By the breaking of the bread, he makes it into a seedbed of food—for if the bread had been left intact and not pulled apart and broken into pieces, they would have been unable to feed the great crowds of men, women and children. The law with the prophets are therefore pulled apart and broken into pieces. Mysteries are made manifest, so that what did not feed the multitude of people in its original whole and unbroken state now feeds them in its divided state.

In this miracle Jesus was teaching them humility, temperance, charity, to be of like mind toward one another and to share all things in common. He did so in his choice of location, by providing nothing more than loaves and fishes, by setting the same food before all and having them share it in common and by affording no one more than another.

The loaves were given to the apostles, for through them the gifts of divine grace were to be administered. The crowds were then fed with the five loaves and two fish, and they were satisfied. The leftover fragments of bread and fish, after the people had their fill, amounted to twelve baskets. Thus, by the word of God coming from the teaching of the law and the prophets, the multitude was satisfied; and an abundance of divine power, reserved for the Gentiles from the ministry of the eternal food, was left over for the twelve apostles.

And not even here does he hold back on the miracle, but it continues as the loaves become fragments. The broken pieces signify that of those loaves, some remained unreceived. This was in order that those who were absent might also learn what had been done.

For this providential purpose, then, Jesus indeed permitted the crowds to get hungry in order that no one might suppose what took place to be as illusion.

For this purpose he also caused just twelve baskets to remain over: That Judas, too, might bear one. He wanted all the disciples to know his power. He fed their hunger. In Elijah’s case something similar also took place.^[1]

So that by every means the Lord might be known to be God by nature, he multiplies what is little, and he looks up to heaven as though asking for the blessing from above. Now he does this out of the divine economy, for our sakes. For he himself is the one who fills all things, the true blessing from above and from the Father. But, so that we might learn that when we are in charge of the table and are preparing to break the loaves, we ought to bring them to God with hands upraised and bring down upon them the blessing from above, he became for us the beginning and pattern and way.

It is possible to see these new miracles concurring with more ancient ones and as being activities of one and the same power. The manna once remained in the wilderness for those of Israel. Now, behold, again in the desert he has provided ungrudgingly for those in want of food, as though bringing it down from heaven. For to multiply what is little and to feed such a multitude as though out of nothing would not be out of keeping with the former miracle. At that time Israel was to partake according to need; they had not received food in order to take it away with them, even though many fragments were left. This is, again, a good symbol for measuring use according to need and of not introducing an acquisitiveness that goes beyond what is needful.

The miracle of the bread revealed the one through whom the soil, when planted with seed, multiplies. What was done invisibly, once brought to light, proclaimed who it is that always works invisibly. It was not only at that time that Jesus with five loaves does many great things. In the world he was not idle or inactive but was always at work feeding everyone and taking nothing for himself. Because he was unknown, therefore, he came feeding, eating and feeding, so that through those things that are seen, he who was unseen might appear.

The same number of those eating proved to be the number of those who believed. As noted in the book of Acts, out of the countless people of Israel five thousand men believed.^[1] Once the people had been satisfied, when they took up the loaves that had been broken into pieces with the fish, there was enough left over to match the number of believers and apostles to be filled with heavenly grace. Thus both the measure suited the number and the number the measure. Within its bounds the calculation was keyed to the proper effect and depended on the guidance of divine power.

The spiritual significance of this must be discerned, comparing the temporal order with the coming revelation. The historical event of his solitude in the evening anticipates a future event: his solitude at the time of the Passion, when everyone else had fled in fear.

He then orders his disciples to get into the boat and cross the sea while he dismisses the crowds. Once they are dismissed, he goes up on the mountain. This prefigures that he is on the sea and within the church. He orders that he be carried throughout the world until he returns in a dazzling second advent to all who are left from the house of Israel, when he will bring salvation and forgive sins.

Finally, in dismissing the crowds, the Lord is symbolically permitting them to enter into the kingdom of heaven. Then he proceeds to give thanks to God the Father, which anticipates his taking his place in glory and in majesty.

For what purpose does he go up into the hills on the mountain? To teach us that solitude and seclusion are good, when we are to pray to God. With this in view, you see, we find him continually withdrawing into the wilderness. There he often spends the whole night in prayer. This teaches us earnestly to seek such quietness in our prayers as the time and place may afford. For the wilderness is the mother of silence; it is a calm and a harbor, delivering us from all turmoils.

The disciples are tossed on the waves again. They are in a storm, fully as bad as the previous one. Gently and by degrees he excites and urges the disciples on toward greater responsiveness, even to the point of bearing all things nobly. Whereas in the previous storm they had him with them in the ship, now they were alone by themselves. Even when he was asleep in the boat in the previous situation, he was ready to give them relief from danger. But then he was present to them.

Now he is leading them into a greater degree of challenge. Now he is not even present to them. He has departed. In midsea he permits a storm to arise. This was all for their training, that they might not look for some easy hope of preservation from any earthly source. He then allows them to be tossed by the storm all night! This had the purpose of awakening their stony hearts in a most complete way. This is how Jesus dealt with the nature of their fear, which the rough weather and the timing had produced. He cast them directly into a situation in which they would have a greater longing for him and a continual remembrance of him.

Meanwhile the boat carrying the disciples—that is, the church—is rocking and shaking amid the storms of temptation, while the adverse wind rages on. That is to say, its enemy the devil strives to keep the wind from calming down. But greater is he who is persistent on our behalf, for amid the vicissitudes of our life he gives us confidence. He comes to us and strengthens us, so we are not jostled in the boat and tossed overboard. For although the boat is thrown into disorder, it is still a boat. It alone carries the disciples and receives Christ. It is in danger indeed on the water, but there would be certain death without it. Therefore stay inside the boat and call upon God. When all good advice fails and the rudder is useless and the spread of the sails presents more of a danger than an advantage, when all human help and strength have been abandoned, the only recourse left for the sailors is to cry out to God. Therefore will he who helps those who are sailing to reach port safely, abandon his church and prevent it from arriving in peace and tranquility?

Who was able to walk on the sea if not the Creator of the universe? He, indeed, about whom the Holy Spirit had spoken long ago through blessed Job: Who alone stretched out the heavens and walked on the sea as well as the earth.^[1] Solomon spoke about him in the person of Wisdom: I dwelt in the highest places and my throne was in a pillar of cloud. I orbited the heavenly sphere alone and walked on the waves of the sea.^[2] David likewise declared in his psalm: God, your way was through the sea, your path through the great waters.^[3] So too Habakkuk noted, The raging waters swept on; the deep gave forth its voice.^[4]

What is more evident than this testimony, what is more clear? It points to him walking on the water as well as on the ground. This is God’s only begotten Son, who long ago according to the will of the Father stretched out the heavens and at the time of Moses in a pillar of cloud showed the people a way to follow.

In the meantime, however, the disciples are harassed by wind and by sea. Amid all the disturbances of the world, in conflict with the unclean spirit, they are tossed about. But the Lord comes in the fourth watch. For the fourth time, then, he will return to a roving and shipwrecked church. In the fourth watch of the night, the measure of his concern is found to be just as great. The first watch was that of the law, the second of the prophets, the third of the Lord’s coming in the flesh and the fourth of his return in splendor. But he will find the church in distress and beleaguered by the spirit of the antichrist and by disturbances throughout the world. He will come to those who are restless and deeply troubled. And since, as we may expect from the antichrist, they will be exposed to temptations of every kind, even at the Lord’s coming they will be terrified by the false appearances of things and crawling phantasms with eyes. But the good Lord will then speak out and dispel their fear, saying, It is I. He will dispel the fear of impending shipwreck through their faith in his coming.

Let us focus on the meaning of this fourth watch in which the Lord comes to his disciples who were caught in the storm. The first watch of the night—that is, of the present world—is understood to be from Adam to Noah, the second watch from Noah up until Moses, through whom the law was given. The third watch was from Moses up to the coming of the Lord and Savior. In these three watches the Lord, even before coming in the flesh, with the vigilance of the angels defends the encampments of his saints from the snares of the enemy—that is, the devil and his angels, who from the beginning of the world plotted against the salvation of the righteous. In the first watch, protection is given to Abel, Seth, Enos, Enoch, Methuselah and Noah. In the second watch, to Abraham, Melchizedech, Isaac, Jacob and Joseph. In the third watch, to Moses, Aaron, Joshua the son of Nun and, after that, to the other righteous men and prophets. The fourth watch marks the time when the Son of God was born in the flesh and suffered, the time he promised his disciples and his church that he would be eternally watchful after his resurrection, saying, I will be with you even to the consummation of the world.^[1]

When the disciples, it is said, saw him walking on the sea, they were troubled, saying, It is a spirit! And they cried out for fear. This is the way he constantly deals with our fears. He does not hesitate to bring on worse things, even more alarming than those before.^[1] They were troubled here not only by the storm but also by the distance from the land. Note that he did not too easily remove the darkness. He did not come quickly to their rescue. He was training them, as I said, by the continuance of these fears and instructing them to be ready to endure.

Accordingly, neither did he present himself to them at once. For it is written that in the fourth watch of the night he came to them, walking on the sea. He was instructing them not too hastily to seek for deliverance from their pressing dangers but to bear all challenges courageously. In any case, just when they looked to be delivered, their fear was again heightened.

The fourth watch of the night marks the end of the night. One watch consists of three hours. This means that at the end of the world the Lord will come to the rescue, and he will be seen walking on the water. Although this ship is tossed by the storms of temptation, it sees the glorified Lord walking upon all the billows of the sea—that is, upon all the powers of this world. For through the voice of his Passion he gave an example of humility according to the flesh. Those waves of the sea to which he willingly submitted for our sake were stilled, in accordance with the prophecy: I came to the height of the sea, and the storm swallowed me up.^[1]

Peter is found to be of ardent faith at all times. When the disciples are asked who people say that Jesus is, Peter declares him to be the Son of God. Though mistaken in wanting to follow Christ to his Passion, he is not mistaken in his affection. He does not desire the death of him who a short time before he declared to be the Son of God. Peter is among the first to go up the mountain with the Savior and is the only one to follow him in his Passion. With bitter tears he immediately washes away the sin of denial that sprang up from fear. After the Passion when they were fishing in Lake Gennesaret, the Lord was standing on the beach, while the others were slowly sailing in the boat. He hesitated not for a moment. He put on his overgarment and plunged into the sea. And now, with the same ardor of faith he always had, the other apostles gazing in awe, he believes that he can do by the will of the Master what the latter could do by nature. Bid me come to you on the water. Just say the word, and immediately the waves will become solid. The body which of itself is heavy will become light.

What is signified by the fact that Peter dared to come to him upon the water? Peter indeed has the principal role in the church. And what is the meaning of those other words: Lord, if it is you, bid me come to you on the water, if not, Lord, if you are truthful and never lie at all, let your church be glorified also in this world, for prophecy declared this about you? Let it walk upon the water, and it shall come to you, to whom it was said, The rich among the people shall entreat your favor.^[1]

Why then did Christ permit Peter to come? Suppose he had said, No, you cannot come. With his boldness Peter might have protested again. But when Peter saw the sea and wind, he became dizzy and was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, Lord, save me.

In relating this same situation, John remarks that then they were willing to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the shore where they were heading.^[1] This implies that when they were on the point of arriving at the land, he entered the ship. Peter then having come down from the ship went to Jesus, not rejoicing so much in walking on the water as in coming to him.

The sea caused his dizziness, but the fear was caused by the wind. The sea was the greater threat, the wind the less. As Peter was struggling with the sea, he was on the point of suffering more anxiety from the violence of the wind. Such is human nature that we so often feel exposed to the lesser danger but experience it as the greater.

The fact that out of all those in the boat, only Peter speaks up and asks that he be ordered to come to the Lord on the water demonstrates the force of his will at the time of the Passion. Then coming back alone and following the Lord’s footsteps, with contempt for the turmoil of the world as of the sea, Peter is attended by strength equal to disdaining death itself. His timidity, however, gives an inkling of his weakness in the face of future temptation. For though he ventured forth, he began to sink. Through the feebleness of the flesh and the fear of death, he is brought to the point of denial. But he cries out and asks the Lord to save him. That cry is the groan of his repentance. Though the Lord did not yet suffer, Peter has recourse to confession and in due course receives forgiveness for his denial. Christ was then about to suffer for the redemption of all people.

While human praise does not tempt the Lord, people are often ruffled and nearly entranced by human praise and honors in the church. Peter was afraid on the sea, terrified by the great force of the storm. Indeed, who does not fear that voice: Those who say you are happy place you in error and disturb the path of your feet?^[1] And since the soul struggles against the desire for human praise, it is good for it to turn to prayer and petition amid such danger, lest one who is charmed by praise be overcome by criticism and reproach. Let Peter, about to sink in the waves, cry out and say, Lord, save me! The Lord reached out his hand. He chided Peter, saying, O man of little faith, why did you doubt?—that is, why did you not, gazing straight at the Lord as you approached, pride yourself only in him? Nevertheless he snatched Peter from the waves and did not allow him who was declaring his weakness and asking the Lord for help to perish.

Once he got into the vessel, the wind and the sea calmed down. After the return of eternal splendor, peace and tranquility are in store for the church. And with his arrival made manifest, with great wonder they will all exclaim, Truly you are the Son of God. All people will then declare absolutely and publicly that the Son of God has restored peace to the church, not in physical lowliness but in heavenly glory.

In the face of the storm the Lord got into the boat and the wind ceased. Those who were in the boat came and worshiped him. This signifies that Our Lord and Savior, once the storm of persecution had passed, would come again in the last days to his disciples and his church. For this he made holy Peter the first of the apostles and commended his sheep to him, saying, Feed my sheep.^[1] When the apostles in the church of believers, positioned in the vessel as it were, beheld the glory of the Lord’s resurrection, adoring our Lord and Savior, they declared to the human race that he was truly the Son of God.

Do you see how by degrees Jesus was leading them all higher and higher? For by his walking on the sea, and by his commanding another to do so and by preserving Peter in jeopardy, their faith was henceforth great. On that occasion he rebuked the sea. But now he is not rebuking the sea, but in another sense his power is still being abundantly demonstrated. For this reason the believers worship him and say, Truly you are the Son of God. Did Jesus refuse to accept this confession? No, on the contrary, he rather confirmed what they said and with even greater authority healed such as approached him.

For neither did they approach him as before, dragging him into their houses and seeking a touch from his hand and directions from him in words. But now in a far higher pattern, and with greater self-denial and with a more abundant faith, they tried to win themselves a cure. By now the woman who had the issue of blood^[1] had taught them all to be constrained in seeking wisdom. And the Evangelist, also implying that at long intervals Jesus visited the various neighborhoods, said, When the men of that place recognized him, they sent round to all that region and brought to him all that were sick. Far from abolishing their faith, this interval of miracles had made it even greater and preserved it vigorously.

Many things came in the way that, after the gathering of five thousand men who were filled to satiety, dampened our effort to give a proper account. Our understanding on this point, however, remains the same. The time of the law was over, and five thousand men were brought into the church from Israel.^[1] The believing people now hastened from the law, saved through their faith. They offered to God the remaining persons among them who were feeble and ill. These offered persons wanted to touch the hem of his garment to be made whole through faith. As from the hem of the entire garment, the whole power of the Holy Spirit came forth from our Lord Jesus Christ. This power was given to the apostles, who were also going out as it were from the same body, and it afforded healing to those who wished to touch the garment.

Look at [Peter], the great foundation of the Church, that most solid of rocks, upon whom Christ built the Church [Mt 16:18]. And what does our Lord say to him? “O you of little faith,” he says, “why do you doubt?” [Mt 14:31].