From “Discernment: Reading the Signs of Daily Life” by Henri Nouwen with Michael J. Christensen and Rebecca J. Laird
Do you remember the gospel story about the disciples in the boat on the Sea of Galilee (Matt. 14:22-33)? During the night, the disciples encounter a storm, and they are afraid. Jesus comes to them, walking on the water. They think it’s a ghost, and they are terrified. Jesus tells them, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”
Peter replies, “Lord, if it’s you, command me to come to you on the water.” Jesus says, “Come.” Peter gets out of the boat and begins walking on the water toward Jesus. But when Peter notices the strong wind and waves, he begins to sink. He cries out to the Lord, and Jesus immediately reaches out his hand and catches Peter, asking, “Why did you doubt?” As they climb into the boat together, the storm ceases. Then those in the boat worship him saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”
This is a story about moving from fear to discernment in the present moment, a story we all need to hear. So much is going on in our lives: new directions, old fears, apprehensions, and great uncertainties. Always, there is sadness and joy, fear and love, resentment and gratitude; there is nervousness about next week, next month, next year. Yes, there is so much going on beneath our feet that we are wondering if we can keep walking on all these waves. But Jesus is with us here and now. As long as Peter keeps his eyes fixed on Jesus, he can walk on the water. Problems are small and fears bearable when we know who calls us. The Lord looks into us, smiles, stretches out both his hands, and invites us to get out of the boat; “Come to me, be not afraid.”
We will not succeed if we stay in the boat. We will not survive if we look down at the waves. But we do not have to look down and drown. Jesus calls us to look up and forward to the one who stands in the midst of the storm. He is with us now, he will be with us tomorrow, and he will still be there in our near and far future. In the midst of all the storms, he is the quiet presence: in the midst of all our doubts and fears, he is the safe dwelling place; in the midst of all our restlessness, he is our home. Why feel anxious in the presence when he is reaching out his arms to us? Why sorry about the future when Christ says, “I will be with you until the end of time” (Matt. 28-20)?
Please Lord, join me on the road, enter into my closed room, and take my foolishness away. Open my mind and heart to the great mystery of your active presence in my life, and give me the courage to help others discover your presence in their lives. Amen.