“Get into the boat! ” Our Lord’s commanding voice echoes in the hearts of the disciples. “Go on a journey across the waters to the distant shore.” While we cannot precisely recount His words or the timbre of His voice, the context within Matthew’s gospel paints a clear picture of their hesitance. But why this hesitation?

Perhaps they were unwilling to venture without their revered teacher by their side. And surely, the prospect of traversing to the other side wasn’t met with eagerness. For on that side dwelled the Gentiles, the unfamiliar foreigners, dreaded and mistrusted. The other side, to the disciples, signified a place of uncertainty, a realm dominated by Roman rule.

However, the most formidable of their apprehensions was the sea itself. These disciples, seasoned fishermen, knew the perils of straying far from the safety of the shore. Yet, here was Jesus, compelling them to traverse the deep waters for five or six miles. Can you imagine such a journey, in a fragile boat, amid a tempest’s fury?

In the days of Jesus, the sea held significance beyond its physical dangers. Recall the opening verses of Genesis, where we hear that the Earth was a void, shapeless and dark, and a mighty wind swept over the waters. The sea, to the people of that time, embodied the primordial chaos that threatened the orderly world.  Only the divine Creator could quell this chaos.

Matthew recounts that “the wind was against them,” the apostles’ vessel contending with an unyielding force. Despite their relentless efforts, progress eluded them. As the sun descended, the tempest raged on, enveloping them in darkness. Exhausted, dispirited, and fear-stricken, they weathered the seemingly endless danger. Would dawn ever break upon that harrowing night?

This was the archetypal night-sea journey, where everything familiar and safe is left behind in a perilous journey through a formless sea of unknowing and unmaking which threatens to engulf the voyagers. 

In both the days of Jesus and in our present moment, chaos is a reality: suffering, cruelty, violence. Yet, Jesus himself reverses that reality and overcomes its very essence. He not only preaches the improbable but demonstrates it: the blind gain sight, the lame walk, captives find freedom, mourners dance, and the destitute inherit the land.

“Get into the boat! resounds Jesus’ call to us today. “Pull out into the deep, make for the distant shore.” Amid the tumultuous waves, in the midst of crashing swells, we feel ourselves powerless against the wind, our hearts breaking in the eternal night. Yet, in the darkest hour before dawn, a figure emerges, striding across the water, suddenly we see something—someone—walking toward us, walking on the sea. It is he who created the sea, to who it belongs (Ps 93), the maker of heaven and earth who once again brings order to the storm of chaos.

Then, the voice we know so well reaches our ears: 

“Take courage; it is I. 

Do not be afraid.”

“Master, if indeed it is you, beckon me to your side”.  The voice replies, “Come.” And Peter steps out of the boat, his gaze locked on his Master. With eyes fixed on Jesus, he advances. But as he draws near, he is distracted by the storm, the wind, the chaos. Fear grips him. His focus wavers. He averts his eyes from Jesus, unable to rise above the waves. Jesus extends a reassuring hand. “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” I like to envision Jesus speaking these words with gentleness, a smile on his lips.

The moment Jesus steps aboard, the winds cease. The tempest subsides. The sea becomes tranquil and serene. Following the turmoil and the drama, this sudden calm stands as perhaps the most extraordinary of miracles—a miracle we yearn for today.

Besieged on all sides by peril, suffering, and grief, we can be distracted by anxiety and sorrow. We’ve strayed far from the shore, the wind of adversity blows against us, and some of us feel ourselves sinking. Who can even remember what it was like to be at peace in an uneventful time?

Jesus beckons us into the tumultuous waters, summoning us to encounter God’s presence amid the storm. He invites you to draw near, to walk toward Him. Allow Jesus to grasp your hand. Welcome Him into your boat, where His presence brings tranquility amidst chaos.

At times, this means finding solace within the stormy world. Other times, it means departing from our comfort zones for the tempestuous sea, where our sole safeguard against drowning is the touch of the master’s hand. Do you set out into the deep, or cling to the muddy shore? 

“Take courage; it is I. 

Do not be afraid.”