walking on water

Remember my dream -- that one in which I was getting bounced off the walls of my bedroom? It should hardly be surprising that I haven't forgotten it; it hovers very near the surface of my consciousness, especially as I'm going to bed.

Even in the midst of that dream, and especially in the day or two that followed, the word buffeted stuck out to me. I knew it was important that it was buffeted and not another word, and I wasn't immediately sure why. It's not a word that comprises a regular part of my vocabulary, nor is it one I normally think to use. So I did a search for it in Scripture; it is used just once in the Bible and only in one translation:

Matthew 14: 22-33 (NIV)

Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd. After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, but the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it.

During the fourth watch of the night Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. "It's a ghost," they said, and cried out in fear.

But Jesus immediately said to them: "Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid."

"Lord, if it's you," Peter replied, "tell me to come to you on the water."

"Come," he said.

Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, "Lord, save me!"

Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. "You of little faith," he said, "why did you doubt?"

And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, "Truly you are the Son of God."

Whoa.

Having had some time to reflect on any number of possible implications, a few things stand out to me about this story:

Walking on water is impossible.
Peter walked out to Jesus from the boat on the water. Um yeah ... we can't do that. Have you ever tried? Peter got out of the boat in the middle of the frickin' lake! It strikes me that on the same night I had this dream, I voiced some concerns of mine to a friend about what I understood the Lord was asking of me; I confessed to her that I was overwhelmed and wondered aloud how any of it could be done. It seems impossible.

When Jesus shows up, the disciples are afraid.
The disciples' first response it is fear ("it's a ghost!") when they see Jesus out for a stroll on the choppy lake. He tells them, "Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid." Doing impossible things is scary and overwhelming and yet sometimes, that is precisely what obedience entails: to trust that the impossible is possible when Christ commands it and when our eyes are on Him. I know what Christ is asking of me; I asked Him to show up and He did. And it freaked me out; it continues to freak me out.

It is the boat that is buffeted.
If you've got to be out on a choppy lake and the wind is against you, my bet is that you'd prefer the boat to bobbing around the lake alone without a boat, a life preserver, or water wings. Between the two, the boat is safer and more certain. When you've told the Lord you will and then He says, "Come", you cannot unhear that word. You step out from scary to scarier in order to get closer to where He is.

I suppose I could shrink back into the distance and pretend none of this ever happened, pretend that I didn't know precisely what He's called me toward. Pretend that that howling wind and the slapping water against the boat drowned out His words, like He never said that word at all.

But I did ask and He did say it. So it's time to get out of the boat.

Peter sinks when he pays attention to those things that aren't Jesus.
This is the point I often hear when this particular passage is exegeted. When Peter pays attention to the wind and the waves, he starts to sink and cries out for rescue. And Jesus rescues Him, asking Peter why he ever doubted. Perhaps it sounds pithy and trite to say keep your eyes on Jesus, but that's what it boils down to at the end of the day, doesn't it? Don't pay attention to the distractions, the things that oppose you, or even the work itself; pay attention to Jesus: lock His gaze and keep walking toward Him.

I cannot let myself focus on the work or those things that would pull me away from it. He asked and He's waiting, not moving, a point of stillness and silence amidst the cacophony (what will you say? how will you say it? what gives you authority to speak to this? how will you ever get published?). It is I who must move toward Him. His eyes lock with mine and I walk toward the gaze I am beginning to know and trust while the wind blows against me and the waves crash around me; knowing that I can only walk this impossible ground because He said Come.

What truth do you see in this passage, friends? Anything in particular stand out to you?