“Yes, come,” Jesus said. So Peter went over the side of the boat and walked on the water toward Jesus. But when he saw the strong wind and the waves, he was terrified and began to sink. “Save me, Lord!” he shouted. Jesus immediately reached out and grabbed him. “You have so little faith,” Jesus said. “Why did you doubt me?” – Matthew 14:29-31
This morning I’m waking up early, determined to take my mug of coffee out onto the dock so I can enjoy an “edge of dawn” quiet moment or two with God.
The jetty reaches out into this backwater of Chesapeake Bay like a tentative interface with the eternal; a connecting point where we can walk out into God, and peer into the spiritual world that is always lapping against our shores.
Sometimes we take our shoes off, and dive in; but mostly we just look, keeping our feet firmly planted on what we like to think of as solid ground.
The jetty, carefully crafted yet wobbly just the same, reminds me of the religious structure that carries me out over the water. Faith is what I use to – sometimes – just fall in; faith doesn’t keep me afloat so much as it invites me to become immersed.
There’s this great story in the Gospels about Jesus inviting Peter to walk on the water. He climbs out of the boat and he stays afloat for a little while but then he begins to go under.
Jesus reaches out and takes Peter’s hand. Then Peter walks on the water with Jesus.
Sometimes I wonder, if Jesus took my hand, that maybe he’d be more likely to take me under. Immersed. My experience of God is so surface so much of the time. For me I think the invitation is not so much to walk on the water as it is to become submerged in God.
In God. To lose the firm demarcation line, the shoreline, the place where spirituality laps against day-to-day life. To walk to the end of the jetty and just fall in. Not jump; not dive; but fall.
Fall into God.