Where Sight No Longer Matters
The Sea of Galilee is a peaceful place. Tiny swells lap against the shore while rugged peaks rise above the plains. Gulls and other birds soar overhead, riding the winds in a sky so achingly beautiful. Blue upon blue. Wildflowers releasing their fragrance. Children laughing and skipping along the water’s edge, as fishermen mend their nets with thick, calloused fingers.
Little has changed over 2,000 years later; the great lake – called a “sea” – rolls on, her waters still keeping a million secrets.
What would those waves tell us, if they could speak? Would they remember the dark night, halfway toward morning, when Jesus Christ stepped confidently across their choppy surface? His sandals slapping in the foam, the Son of God and man walked on water. As we might take a twilight stroll, Jesus strolled over the angry tide, right by his disciples.
His followers must have been “men’s men,” especially Simon Peter. Imagine those palms and fingers, roughened by years of rowing ships and dragging full nets onto their decks! The wild mane of hair, the quick temper, but loving heart.
Then we see John, beside his brother James: a tad more sensitive than the rest, with an open and affectionate manner, but like a young lion when provoked. Christ had to rebuke the “Sons of Thunder” from time to time!
Now they toil on the open sea, rowing for their lives, as lightning splits the air and salt-water burns their eyes, lungs, and tongues.
Yet who comes walking by them? The Master – Rabbi Jeshua – calls out, “be of good cheer!” as he approaches the weather-beaten crew.
Cheer? Is Christ so glib, so cavalier, with our troubles and sorrow? No. How can the co-agent of creation forget His creation, the very ones he called to follow him?
In our storms of life, Christ walks with us on the waves, because he made them, allowed them to rise and rage, so we may be more like him, and to trust our Saviour more.
This same Jesus hung on a cross for us, his life-blood pouring out, forsaken by the Father. Tremble, ye heavens, at the thought! God could not even look at God the Son. Earth shook, rocks burst, and darkness covered the globe. Yet He remained on the tree and gave Himself up to death, so we might live forever with him.
Only John followed the crowds to Golgotha; did he remember when Jesus came to him and the others, walking upon the sea? Did he think of Christ’s words: “Be of good cheer?”
Do we remember what God has shown and taught us? When the unexpected comes – illness, a rebellious child, drained bank accounts, and broken engagements – do we look for Christ and hear His encouragement, or do we look at the waves and panic? Peter – brave, stubborn Peter – wanted to come out to Jesus. He had enough faith to climb out of the boat and step out onto the sea, yet he allowed distractions. Peter took his eyes off Christ and focused on the tumult around him.
This is when we sink, dear friend: when we look at the wind and waves. In the blink of an eye, we choose fear over faith!
Yet our Lord lifts us up as we cry out for rescue! Even as Jesus pulled Peter out of the water, He will draw us close and ask us why we doubted Him.
If you have not already, we will all come to a place and time when we will either trust or fear. When the moment comes, will we walk by faith or sight?
No matter what we face in life, Christ still walks upon the storm itself and calls “be of good cheer!” Only a sovereign God could ever give such hope.
Rachel Ann Rogish is a freelance writer, excited to give back to quality home education and promoting a creative-ministry life-style. When she is isn’t writing, you can find her learning the domestic arts, reading a good book, exploring nature, and reporting for the Cape May County Herald Newspaper.
