A while back I wrote about that famous scene in the Gospels where Jesus comes walking on the water in the midst of a storm to his disciples huddled terrified in a boat, and Peter tried his hand at water-walking too (Walking on Water). I noticed 3 things in Peter’s successful adventure: his chutzpah, the divine go-ahead, and his reckless obedience. Most of us will probably never actually get to stroll across a lake without the help of some floatation device, but we’ve all got our own version of tempestuous seas to deal with. And our biggest hurdle in becoming good at water-walking is almost always taking that initial step out of the boat. It’s the first — and maybe the biggest — test of who succeeds and who doesn’t: who’s got the guts to try? And the invisible ropes that keep people tied to the safety and comfort of the boat are their fears: fear of looking foolish, and fear of failing. Fear is natural. Everybody has it; everybody has to deal with it. But if we want to be like Peter, we can’t let our fears stop us. We’ve got to overcome them or remain permanently stuck where we are.

A few weeks ago, my pastor asked me to do something. Actually, after he casually mentioned one day a new program he wanted to implement, I grabbed the initiative and asked if I could help with it. I have to admit that thoughts of looking presumptuous crossed my mind. We hadn’t known each other very long, and it wasn’t like he was asking for help; it was just a plan for the future. And how do you tell someone you think that job has your name written all over it without sounding a bit boastful or with an ego that could stand some readjusting? But sensing that this project was something related to my particular gifts and calling, I summoned my chutzpah and made the offer. A few days later, after I assume some prayerful consideration, he told he felt I was the right man for the job.

Okay, great. Now I’m stuck; no backing out now. I was excited about the prospect: a new door, a new opportunity, room for growth, and a bold step in the direction I’m looking to take my life. But I was (and am) also terrified. It’s going to take a lot of work on my part; it’s going to take a lot of time, and it’s going to be inconvenient. And it could bomb. I could fail miserably. Then, not only would I look a little foolish, but it could also throw open the door for a lot of confusion and self-doubt about my abilities, my gifts, my calling, and my dreams for the future. In reality, it may be no big deal, but from my perspective here and now, at the very beginning of this journey, it has the intimidating look and feel of my own personal little stormy sea. Do I step out of the boat and risk putting my weight on that one foot dangling in the water, or do I jerk back, withdraw my offer, and pretend like it all never happened?

But I’ve been asking God for bigger things, for a life that is more impactful, more helpful, and more fulfilling. How ever this thing may ultimately turn out, I’m committed to doing it. And if I fail, I fail. But I will fail spectacularly and aggressively. And if I succeed, well, I’ll have taken that long sought after “next step” into my future, others will be better trained and equipped to deal with their own gifts and callings, even more people will be touched in turn by them, and God’s presence and power will penetrate more aggressively on this planet.

“The Kingdom of Heaven is forcefully advancing, and forceful people lay hold of it” (Mt 11:12) — but only if we overcome our fear of failing and take that first tenuous step out of the boat.

This scene fascinates me because it is saturated with spiritual truth, and so poignantly illustrates our often-times tenuous walk of faith. It’s a great visual reminder for me when I’ve lost my excitement about life and my optimism over where my life is headed. At a quick glance, the story suggests three points, three requirements, for walking in the realm of the extraordinary.

The first thing that strikes me is Peter’s audacity. The other disciples are still trembling in the boat, still recovering from their terror at the sight of what they think to be a ghost approaching them. And I’m sure they’re completely exhausted from their long day and straining at the oars in those rough waters. Peter alone overcomes his initial panic and exhaustion, and has the chutzpah to demand to do the miraculous, to be allowed to walk on the water also. “Lord, if it’s you, command me to come to you on the water.”

Many of us with our religious upbringing might cringe at such presumption: demand anything of Jesus? Wouldn’t we expect a rebuke for our lack of humility: “Hey, you are not me, just because I do this doesn’t mean you should”? Or, “settle down, just be quiet, stop trying to show off”? It is significant I think, and says much about the heart of Jesus, that he not only does not rebuke Peter, he actually encourages him. This is the first requirement. If we want the extraordinary in our lives, we have to have a shameless desire for it.

And Jesus calls Peter out: “Come.” This is the second requirement: getting God’s go-ahead, making sure we have the divine commission. Peter didn’t just jump out onto the water on his own, although that certainly would be consistent with his personality. He asked for Jesus to command him. At least he knew enough by then to wait until being given permission, and with that permission came the authority and ability. This is what separates presumption from confidence, and is the key to our success versus our humiliating failure. The divine command, the certainty that God wants it for us also.

Although we know that Peter does climb out of the boat, something we often overlook is the courage — even recklessness — it took to obey. And that’s requirement number three. Peter follows through. He climbs out of the boat and takes that first shakey step, putting his foot on churning water as though it were solid. And amazingly, it is! That took a lot of guts. And I’m sure the other disciples were just as surprised to see him succeed.

Unfortunately, most of us never get to that point in our own journies. We seldom experience that exhiliration and sheer amazement at doing something utterly unimaginable. Many of us will be like the other disciples, too tired, too worn out, or too intimidated by our circumstances to even dream of doing anything other than remaining in the safety of the boat. But Lord, give us the character of Peter! Give us the wild, unrealistic audacity to want to do impossible things.

Great achievement for the Kingdom requires bold dreams, the confidence of God’s will, and reckless obedience. And for me, this is the powerful message of this passage.

If you want to walk on water, you must first get out of the boat. And before that can happen, you have to have the chutzpah to ask.

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“The LORD appeared to Solomon and said, ‘Ask for whatever you want me to give you’” (1 Kings 3:5).
“Ask of me, and I will make the nations your inheritance …” (Psalm 2:8)
“If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be given you” (John 15:7).Read Matthew 14:22-33