Walking on Water

Stepping Beyond Our Little Boats, One Day at a Time

Few things limit us more profoundly than our own beliefs about what we deserve, and few things liberate us more powerfully than daring to broaden our locus of possibility and self-permission for happiness.
Maria Popova, Marginalia

…you’ve simply had enough
of drowning
and you want to live and you
want to love and you will
walk across any territory
and any darkness
however fluid and however
dangerous to take the
one hand you know
belongs in yours.
David Whyte, from Truelove

The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult: and left untried.
GK Chester

A LITURGY OF READING AND PRAYER FOR TRINITY 10

Opening Prayer

God of boats and lakes,
storms and stillness.
Beckon us, even now.
Give us courage to step out of our smallness
and to know the miracle of being held up
by your ever-present love.

1^st Readings

Matthew 14.22-33

Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds.

And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone,

but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them.

And early in the morning he came walking towards them on the lake.

But when the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified, saying, ‘It is a ghost!’ And they cried out in fear.

But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’

Peter answered him, ‘Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.’

He said, ‘Come.’ So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came towards Jesus.

But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’

Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, ‘You of little faith, why did you doubt?’

When they got into the boat, the wind ceased.

And those in the boat worshipped him, saying, ‘Truly you are the Son of God.’

REFLECTION

The tempest rages around us. Wildfires and wars and alarming technology. We are anxious. We need, more than ever, to hear those words: Take heart, it is I: to know that this is no ghost coming towards us but the very firmest reality we have. It is Love come to save. Do not be afraid. And if we dare to peer into the darkness, we find him there, coming toward us to comfort. Whenever we find ourselves frightened, God is there, ready to console.

Breathe.

And then there’s Peter: lovably impulsive. Not content to wait in the boat, he wants to be on the water with Jesus - to reach him first. And so, those first steps, the faltering, the sinking, the rescue. Was that all sheer foolishness - to be smiled at and forgotten? Or could this be a story of unlikely possibility: a glimpse of what could be? Might we be destined for worlds beyond our little vessel, ways beyond our own means?

But many things keep us in the boat. It is, obviously, the safer option, the more reasonable decision, by far. And even if we rather like the idea of joining Jesus in ways that seem less reasonable, more adventurous, beyond our natural capacity, we hold ourselves back.

Maybe it’s lack of vision; doubt that there is anything that might really hold us up in the tumultuous water that is our lives and our world. Maybe it’s simply fear - and there is much to be afraid of. Or maybe, just a fierce attachment to that little boat of ours, however small it keeps us, however limited our lives.

Stop for a minute and ask yourself, hand on heart, what keeps you in your boat? Or repeatedly sinks you when you try to answer the call to the greater expanses of your life? To greater faithfulness to the life of the Spirit?

I asked myself something like that question a while back. I’d been feeling stuck and unhappy. I sensed that ‘more’ that is always beckoning. The answer came loud and clear - step out of the boat. The name of my boat at that time? Sauvignon Blanc!

It sounds ridiculous - as though I must have had an obvious drinking problem. But I spend hours every week listening to people’s lives, and I know I’m not alone in recognising a habit - in my case, a daily glass or two of wine - that becomes a quiet dependency robbing me of authentic presence, fresh possibility and quiet joy.

In truth, many of us are floating around in some compulsion or another- be it sipping, scrolling, spending, eating, arguing, complaining, working, obsessing. It’s so understandable. So human. As natural as, well, staying in that boat. But…

Early in the morning, symbolic of a new beginning, Christ comes beckoning: Take heart. Do not be afraid. It is I. it is Love. It is Spirit. It is possible.

Jung wrote: Spiritus contra spiritus; meaning that it takes a greater Spirit or spiritual awakening to counter the spirit of compulsion, the spirit of the age. Jung believed that willpower was not enough. We needed a power greater than ourselves. These were some of the words that launched a world-wide and long-standing 12 step programme.

All my adult life I’ve been inspired by people in the recovery movement - in or out of alcoholics anonymous. Nowhere in the church do I see people stepping out of the boat like they do: dedicated to actually finding freedom from deep seated negative attachments – discovering grace beyond their own efforts - one step at a time.

In his book Breathing Under Water, Richard Rohr suggests that these steps are the real work of spiritual transformation and very resonant with Jesus’ own teaching. They contain wisdom and practices that can change our lives.

According to this week’s gospel story, the first 3 steps might sound like:

1. Admitted I was powerless to walk on water.

2. Came to believe that a power greater than myself could call me and keep me afloat.

3. Stepped out of the boat and opened to grace, one step at a time.

Too often, though, we spend our time polishing and decorating our boat, making it as comfortable and as waterproof as possible. And why would we do other? Who on earth really believes we can walk on water? Who really believes we might be free of the myriad things that keep us clinging to the safety of our little boat rather than stepping towards the One who reaches out to us each day and offers us a daring new way?

I’ve had many moments in my life that felt like walking on water. I’ve seen what becomes possible when we step out, one day at a time, with our eyes fixed on that greater Life and Presence. I hope you have too. I believe that this is the sort of freedom we are called to. In the words of the Jesuit writer and spiritual director Rob Marsh, living as if God were real!

Just as often, I’ve stayed in the boat. Or set out, had a good wobble and found myself sinking. But we can take heart: whether walking on water or sinking beneath the waves or clinging to the inside of the boat, we are loved beyond measure. All shall be well.

Still, I do rather like this feeling of buoyancy and possibility.
I like this fluency and freedom.
I like this miracle of grace.

I like this walking on water…
One step at a time.

Ponder. Pray. Practice.

What keeps you in your boat? Or repeatedly sinks you when you try to answer the call to the greater expanses of your life? To greater faithfulness to the life of the Spirit?

What is the face of God, the promise of freedom, that would give you the courage to step out?

Contemplative Corner

Contemplative prayer, in time, provides both vision and resource for the ‘impossible’.

Find some time for silent letting go this week whether by sitting in prayer, walking in nature, or slowing right down to cherish every detail of what you might be doing or who you might be with. Find ways to dwell in Love.

Widening the Circle

Giving thanks for whatever grace you’ve received today, in prayer or in life, take some time to pray for the people and places on your heart today. Let’s pray especially for those who are terrified by storms too near; for those who need a hand of love to reach out and to save them.

The Lord’s Prayer
Heavenly Father, heavenly Mother,
Holy and blessed is your true name.

We pray for your reign of peace to come,
We pray that your good will be done,
Let heaven and earth become one.

Give us this day the bread we need,
Give it to those who have none.

Let forgiveness flow like a river between us,
From each one to each one.

Lead us to holy innocence Beyond the evil of our days —
Come swiftly Mother, Father, come.

For yours is the power and the glory and the mercy:
Forever your name is All in One.

Parker Palmer

2nd Reading

THE TRUELOVE
By David Whyte

There is a faith in loving fiercely
the one who is rightfully yours,
especially if you have
waited years and especially
if part of you never believed
you could deserve this
loved and beckoning hand
held out to you this way.

I am thinking of faith now
and the testaments of loneliness
and what we feel we are
worthy of in this world.

Years ago in the Hebrides,
I remember an old man
who walked every morning
on the grey stones
to the shore of baying seals,
who would press his hat
to his chest in the blustering
salt wind and say his prayer
to the turbulent Jesus
hidden in the water,

and I think of the story
of the storm and everyone
waking and seeing
the distant
yet familiar figure
far across the water
calling to them

and how we are all
preparing for that
abrupt waking,
and that calling,
and that moment
we have to say yes,
except it will
not come so grandly
so Biblically
but more subtly
and intimately in the face
of the one you know
you have to love

so that when
we finally step out of the boat
toward them, we find
everything holds
us, and everything confirms
our courage, and if you wanted
to drown you could,
but you don't
because finally
after all this struggle
and all these years
you simply don't want to
any more
you've simply had enough
of drowning
and you want to live and you
want to love and you will
walk across any territory
and any darkness
however fluid and however
dangerous to take the
one hand you know
belongs in yours.

From ‘The Sea In You’

Blessing

Blessing that Bears the Wind, the Wave
Jan Richardson

That we will risk
the drenching
by which we
are drawn
toward the voice
that calls us,
the love
that catches us,
the faith
that carries us
beyond the wind,
the wave.

And the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with us all now and evermore. Amen.

Music:

These two beautiful pieces, just felt resonant of the mystery. Imagine walking on water.

Note to reader: Thanks for joining me at the Streams. I’ve persisted with a liturgical format in order to invite you to slow down, to breathe, to receive, to pray. I hope you will find somewhere to do this. If not here, where? x