“So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus”
Many from my generation, born in the
middle of the previous century, grew up attending Sunday School and church.
Bible stories, gleaned from both the Old and New Testaments were part of the
curricula taught during our childhood. Those stories include one about a pittance
of food feeding a horde of people. Another tells of Peter, a disciple of Jesus,
and his encounter with waters deep.
John the Baptist had been beheaded by
King Herod, the result of his calling out Herod for having a relationship with
his sister-in-law. John and Jesus were cousins. John was also the one who
publicly acknowledged Christ as the Lamb of God, baptizing Him as He began His
ministry.
The news of John’s death was sobering. Jesus headed for the boat to find refuge on the water. He needed some time alone.
When He came back ashore, He was met by masses
of people. They had followed him on foot and were waiting. Filled with compassion,
He pushed his personal grief aside and did not send the people away. Instead, He
healed them and ministered to their needs.
The long day was coming to an end. It
became apparent the crowd had not brought anything to eat with them. They were
hungry. The area was deserted, and there weren’t any villages nearby to supply
food for the five thousand men (plus women and children) who were present. The
only food available was a boy’s offering of five small loaves of bread and two
fish. Jesus accepted the gift, gave His blessing, and it multiplied beyond
anyone’s imagination. The twelve baskets of leftovers provided evidence of a
miracle. The throng ate and was filled, satisfied both spiritually and
physically as they went back to their homes.
Night fell, and Christ instructed His
disciples to board the boat and head for the opposite shore. He was going to
climb the mountain by himself. Without a
doubt, His heart was broken over the report of John’s death. He needed to spend
time with His Father.
A storm came up during the night when
the disciples were far from land. They feared for their lives as fierce winds
and waves battered the boat.
Early in the morning, Jesus walked on
the sea toward them. They thought they saw a ghost and trembled with terror. “Take
courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid,” He reassured them.
Peter asked for a sign to prove it was
Jesus. The disciple asked that He beckon him to join Him on the waves.
And He did: “Come.”
Clambering over the side, Peter began
walking on the water toward Jesus. The raging winds caused the water around him
to roil. A powerful gust struck with such intensity that Peter turned to look.
When he did, he took his eyes off Christ and promptly went under.
Christ reached out His hand to lift Peter
up and said, perhaps with a bit of humor in His voice and a smile on His face, “You
of little faith, why did you doubt?”
Many feel Bible stories are fabricated
tales of glory and intrigue that have duped the gullible and less educated.
Those of faith take an opposing stand, believing in the stories’ validity, reinforced
by personal experience with a living God. The message is clear: If I look at
the storms surrounding me, I am going to sink every time. Every. Single. Time. And
I do. However, knowing the truth and living it are two different stories.
I have a lifelong friend who knows how
to walk on water. The year 2019 brought her severe physical problems. She was
overcome with excruciating joint pain throughout her body, the kind that has no
future other than leading to life in a wheelchair. The suffering remained relentless.
As 2020 approached, the pain abated but was replaced by blindness. It happened
gradually, darkness taking over first one eye, then the other.
I phone her periodically. “How are you?”
I ask.
Without fail, her response is, “Good.” And
she is.
If I am asked the same question, I
usually answer, “Okay.” There are times
when I am “good” but not with the same consistency as she.
“You’re looking at the outer and not the
inner,” my friend said. She also acknowledged it is easier said than done. It
takes time and practice to stay focused on the inner—on God.
The world has experienced an upheaval, a
literal turning upside-down of all that was once “normal.” COVID-19, the 2020 pandemic,
is like a giant sinkhole that keeps growing, its center a vortex that sucks a
person down if allowed. The political landscape portends fulfillment of biblical
prophecies. What does it all mean?
Lying in bed one restless night, I was
contemplating the long-term effects of the pandemic lockdown on my grandgirls,
the push of government toward a one-world system (called the New World Order),
and every other detail that entered my mind. That is looking at
the outer, the storm with the wind and the waves—the opposite of faith and trust.
You would think I would know better. I do. Old habits die hard.
I cried out to my heavenly Father, a
familiar plea when I am mentally spinning off into oblivion. I don’t know how He
does it, when it happens, or even why, but He always takes me to a better
place.
How
do you walk on water?
Our walks with God are individual and personal. I am unable to refer you to a
how-to manual. I am Peter in the raw. I doubt. God responds. I look around at
the storms and flail about, sinking. Ever faithful, He reaches out and lifts me
up.
This much I know: I revel in the times
of inner peace and calm, as I fully realize they are because I am looking to Him not at the storms and garbage
whirling around me. That is how and what it means to walk on water.
Matthew 14:29 NRSV—opening scripture reference