John 6:16-21: Walking on Water
Tuesday, November 29, 2022
Henry Ossawa Tanner: The Disciples See Christ Walking on the Water
I am thinking of a painting by Henry Tanner in which the waters are calm, one of the apostles stands toward the front of the boat, and Jesus approaches from the left.
The image is ethereal, with wisping stokes that evoke the spiritual experience these men are having. They have witnessed the miraculous multiplication of bread yet do not see. They will hear the explication of this miracle but will not fully understand. They are fishing alone when the storm rises and they fear for their lives. Then they see Jesus walking toward them.
It is I. Do not be afraid.
Life has a way of pulling us into a vortex of activity without suggesting to us that we ought to reflect on our actions. Storms rise suddenly, our little fishing boats are swamped, and a figure fluoresces just outside the periphery of our vision. We turn to focus on it but we cannot see anything which we can readily identify so we go back to bailing. I am wondering what might happen if we calm our fears and linger a bit with that fluorescence. Would it come into a crisp image that might register on the retina long enough for us to believe?
It is I. Do not be afraid.
Life has a way of making us feel as though everything is urgent, must be done by Friday, Monday, Tuesday. Deadlines loom, our agenda overflows yet something beckons just off behind our shoulder. We pause to listen to the faint humming, to wonder what it might be. We hear nothing that the ear recognizes, and so we go back to phone calls, emails and other messages that pile up on the desk.
It is I. Do not be afraid.
We are afraid that the work will not be done, that the children will not be fed, that the gift will not be bought, the laundry not washed and dried, the household tasks not completed. We have an idea that time is linear, finite and within our control.
It is I. Do not be afraid.
Jesus knows no time. Jesus is. Jesus was. Jesus will be. In the midst of our bailing, our counting, our working we must pause to look and listen. We want to have ears that truly hear, eyes that truly see because . . .
It is I. Do not be afraid.
For more of Tanner’s work, visit: http://americanart.si.edu/exhibitions/online/tanner/tanner_main.html
Adapted from a reflection written on May 23, 2008.
The Noontimes 
I am back to feeling this way more often than not; focusing on the blurred, feeling that kind of strength again. It is good. So easy to stray, so easy to doubt when all around are questioning one’s choices. Then I take a deep breath and remember that it would be scary for them, but it isn’t for me. Jesus is always on the water for me. Though I don’t always see him and often worry about the nets and the rope and the wind, I still always feel him. Always. Thanks for a lovely passage.
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Ah yes, the nets, the rope and the wind. They are always appearing; yet, as you have beautifully said, God’s presence is constant, enduring, and healing. Wishing you Advent joy, peace and hope.
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