Where The Glory Belongs

I wrote the following in response to an optional assignment in a church discipleship group I'm a part of. The assignment: "Write an account, from Peter's perspective, of his water walk and the lesson to keep our eyes on Jesus". Here is what I wrote. I am interested to know how others might think differently of what Peter felt.

Looking back, I’ve always wished that I could have had every day perfectly recorded in my memory since that first day at the boat; the miracle of the fish that were so plentiful that they broke the nets of my brother and I. Of course I didn’t have the faintest idea of what would happen after I got back to shore, dropped the bursting nets and followed after the man, the miracle worker, the Messiah that all of Jerusalem had waited for for so long. Nothing was as I would ever have expected. Like so many others, I had envisioned a strong warrior, a shining captain who would come and sweep away our oppression with a mighty hand. A king who would reign victoriously: that is the figure that our people had waited for. It’s hard for me to explain, but this Messiah of gentle love and poignant truth is so much better than what anyone could have imagined and hoped for. If I may be so bold, I can see our great Yahweh smiling down on His children, all along having planned to send His son in the form of a humble carpenter and not a warrior. May the name of our God be eternally praised.

One memory that will always be preserved for me, often painfully and shamefully so, was the day our teacher walked on water. It had already been a day of great miracles. Jesus had fed a crowd of 5,000 people with merely a couple of loaves and fishes. The other disciples and I had visions of Jesus’s greatness finally being fully realized. A king who could stop hunger! Everyone would follow. Everyone would believe. But Jesus always seemed to have other ideas. After everyone had eaten, he sent them all away and told the rest of the disciples and I to take a boat and go to the other side of the water and wait for him there. We did as he asked. It was already late in the day, and by the time we got to the middle of the lake it was quite dark. Then the wind picked up. A storm arose and began to toss our small boat around so that we struggled to make any headway. We took turns at the mast as the night progressed.

It was around the fourth watch of the night, and the storm was still fiercely upon us. We were struggling to keep the small boat on course, when someone cried out. I don’t remember who first saw the figure coming towards us on the water. We all looked, and there was our teacher, walking on top of the rolling waves! We were paralyzed, staring at the apparition that made its way towards us with apparent ease.
“It’s a ghost!” someone cried, perhaps myself. We trembled in fear. But the figure raised a hand and called out to us.
“Take courage! It is I. Do not be afraid.”
In that moment, my spirit knew it to be Jesus. Yet my flesh asked for a test. Before I could even think about what I was saying, I blurted out, “Lord, if it is you, tell me to come to you on the water.”
Jesus answered, “Come.”

For a moment, I was outside of myself. I was trembling as I stepped out of the boat and onto the waves. Part of me expected to sink underneath the water yet I kept my eyes on Jesus, for the other part of me trusted Him to bring me safely to His side. After all the other miracles I had witnessed, I trusted and believed in Him. My foot touched the water and I stood beside the boat in the midst of the tossing waves.

I took a step, then another. I kept my eyes on Jesus. I was flooded with a feeling of amazement and awe. Jesus had his eyes on mine, locked in the firm but gentle gaze that drew people to Him but could also make people turn away, embarrassed or even angry because of the feeling that He was looking directly into one’s soul. A look as though He knew every bit of one’s past and future as well. Comforting and frightening both at once.
Jesus hadn’t moved from the time I stepped out of the boat. The waves rolled about His feet. I was getting closer and closer to Him. I held out one hand, nearly close enough to touch Him, when I let my gaze slip away from Him. For a moment I was prideful: I was walking on water! I was walking in the midst of a storm, the only one of the disciples who had enough courage to step onto the water. I alone of the twelve had this moment of glory. I alone was about to grasp Jesus’s hand and walk with Him back to the boat. My chest swelled with the thought as I looked at the waves crashing around us. The next moment, my pride turned to fear. Our little boat had struggled to keep from being tossed over in the wind. What had made me feel that I could fare any better, walking out into the midst of a storm! What had I been thinking! I glanced wildly back at Jesus, but my trust had already been broken. I had thought of myself and my own glory instead of my teacher’s power. Because I had succumbed to pride, I had been conquered by fear. Because of that, I was sinking.

“Lord, save me!” I cried, thrashing about in the dark water. I was terrified. I looked back up to Jesus. I will never forget the look He gave me. How could disappointment be so fully mixed with unconditional love? He reached out a hand and pulled me up.
“Ye of little faith,” He murmured. “Why did you doubt?”
Full of shame, I bowed my head. There was no need to answer: He knew my thoughts already. I could feel it. It was not with glory but with a silent remorse that I climbed back into the boat with Jesus. The moment that Jesus stepped off of the lake, the wind died down and the storm ceased. All was peaceful. I and the other disciples fell to our knees before Him.
“Truly you are the Son of God,” we said, once again filled with awe.

When we returned safely to land there was already a crowd of people waiting for Jesus. People of all ages and walks waiting to be healed, wanting to merely hear His voice or touch His robe. That’s how it was everywhere we went. Why He should have chosen me to be one of his twelve disciples – I who doubted and did not have enough faith to walk across the water to Him – has always been a wonderment and a mystery to me. I can explain why I doubted. I simply can’t explain why He believed in me in the first place, and so many other times. I can only thank Yahweh that He did. May the name of our Lord be praised.