By Gill Newham Missionary to Mongolia

Spending time on the North Cornish Coast when we’ve been in England, we’ve formed a passing acquaintance with the sea. From a distance we’ve observed some of its moods; we’ve seen it glassy and still, we’ve seen it roaring chaotically. But we’ve never actually been on the sea on an excessively calm or, for that matter, an excessively stormy day.

However, Jesus’s disciples had experienced both. In chapter 6 of John’s gospel, John recounts the story of the disciples in a boat on the Sea of Galilee. Caught in the grip of a storm, they were completely powerless to escape and yet Jesus came close, not battling the storm but simply walking on the water.

Earlier that day Jesus had fed the 5,000. Many of those who ate the food He provided would have been schooled in the Old Testament and, perhaps, recognised a connection between Jesus and the one who had fed the multitude in the wilderness. There were those who, recognising that Jesus was a prophet, wanted to make Him king to fulfil their needs; because, like the Israelites of old, the Jews needed a deliverer to free them from the Roman Empire.

Let’s make Jesus king, the people thought. But to force earthly kingship on Jesus was to misunderstand His true personhood. He did not come to deal with Israel’s material problems. He came to give us, all of us, the bread of life and it is that life-bread that reconciles us to God.

Jesus wasn’t another Moses. He was the God of Moses. He didn’t come to fulfil a strategy, He was the strategy, and He came to provide us with a completely new reality.

He came to them walking on the water. The storm had no power over Him. But He saw those in the boat, terrified, without any hope of shelter. On land we can find shelter but in a boat on the open sea man is subjected to the full power of the storm.

In life too, storms come that take us into the dark, uncontrollable turbulent sea. We speak of life as a journey but perhaps a sea voyage would be a more appropriate metaphor because there are moments when, full of fear, it is all we can do to remain in the boat as life’s devastating circumstances threaten to hurl us overboard.

When Jesus arrived at the boat, it appears that the disciples didn’t immediately lose their fears. Perhaps they thought Jesus was a ghost. Or perhaps they sensed something of who He was. “It is I,” was the first thing He said. Jesus was identifying himself. But was He simply identifying the human Jesus or was He alluding to something more? Was He saying that He was the Lord, the Creator; the great I am?

“Do not be afraid,” Jesus continued. I hear compassion in those words. When someone draws alongside us during the storms of life and lovingly embraces us, then it seems to enable us to keep going. Sometimes Jesus calms life’s storms and sometimes He doesn’t. But as we allow Him, He always climbs into the boat with us, entering our lives, bearing us up and, amazingly, changing us too.