My congregation is doing a 6-week sermon/study series based on the book by John Ortberg, If you Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat. I’ve been familiar with this book for quite some time, but I don’t think I’ve read it. The book is based on the story of Peter walking on water, and the basic premise is that to really experience the fullness of what it means to follow the call of Jesus, we need to step beyond the safety and security of what they know and walk directly into the storm.
So this first week we were invited to ponder what boat we are in that maybe Jesus is calling us out of. Ortberg says, “Your boat is whatever represents safety and security to you apart from God himself. Your boat is whatever you are tempted to put your trust in, especially when life gets a little stormy. Your boat is whatever keeps you so comfortable that you don’t want to give it up even if it’s keeping you from joining Jesus on the waves. Your boat is whatever pulls you away from the high adventure of extreme discipleship” (p. 17).
As I was pondering this for myself, I began to wonder…what if the church (structured religious institution) is my boat? What if I’m missing out on something bigger because all I can see is what I’m doing now…which is good and important and genuinely matters. But is there somewhere beyond this to which I am being called?
When Peter sees Jesus out in the storm he says, “if it is you, Lord, call me to come…” Ortberg is clear that what makes Peter’s actions admirable is not the risk he took stepping out into unknown territory, it was the obedience Peter showed. “Courage alone is not enough; it must be accompanied by wisdom and discernment… [B]efore Peter gets out of the boat, he had better make sure Jesus thinks it’s a good idea” (p. 16).
And that, there, is the challenge. It is not that something that is comfortable, safe, and well-known is necessarily limiting and wrong. It is that if we are not constantly saying, “if it is you, Lord, call me to come…” we run the risk of thinking where we are is where we will always be.
So, I don’t know if the church is my boat. It definitely has the potential to become that thing that is so safe it’s hard to leave. I don’t know if I stay safe in the structures, rhythms, yes…even dysfunction, that I’m familiar with at the expense of missing out on some larger calling. But I do know that I am trying my best to discern the voice of Christ in the middle of the storm. I do know that I am trying my best to tread lightly where I am so that when the next invitation to step out of the boat comes, I am ready to follow. I do know that I am trying not to get so settled into my life, my ways, my job and even my convictions that I am not listening.