The Miracle of Walking on Water

When no one listens to you or understands you, you want to be alone with yourself. After Christ fed the five thousand, He withdrew from them to a mountain. He spoke to them about the Father, but they urged Him to lead a rebellion against the Romans; He spoke to them about the Kingdom of Heaven, but they replied, “Come on, be our king!” To the people, His preaching seemed merely a role in their own play, and they generously allowed Him to play the part they had assigned Him. They even wanted to forcibly proclaim Him king, so much did He appeal to them in that role.

The Savior told the apostles to get into the boat and set out—not to stay with the fed crowd—apparently because the disciples, too, had been infected by this revolutionary spirit. To rouse the apostles, bring them to their senses, and show them once again that He had come not to establish an earthly kingdom, Christ appeared to them at night, walking on the water. This miracle has a profound messianic significance: just as Moses stretched out his staff and the sea parted, so Christ walks on the water, testifying that the prophecies of the Old Testament were fulfilled in Him.

The eschatological significance of the miracle is also important. Christ appeared to the disciples during the fourth watch (between three and six o’clock in the morning). Saint Hilary of Poitiers believed that the Second Coming of the Savior would also take place at this same time. Christ’s words, “It is I,” point not only to His Divinity (in Aramaic, “I am” is homophonic with the name Yahweh, by which God appeared to Moses), but also to the last days. Christ warned: “Many will come in My name, saying, ‘I am He,’ and will deceive many” (Mark 13:6). However, “My sheep hear My voice” (John 10:27), and the faithful will recognize Him by His call. Many, however, will not recognize Christ because, in the words of the Apostle Paul, “they will follow their own desires and choose teachers who will flatter their ears” (2 Tim. 4:3).

A miracle almost always overrides human will, leaving no choice. Anthony the Great said of miracles: “I have not had them, nor do I desire them.” By performing a miracle, God “risks” depriving a person of freedom—and thus of the ability to love. But there are situations when a person needs to be jolted—as if by an electric shock—so that they may come to their senses and be distracted from their passionate thoughts. Faith is always born in struggle. Each of us has an inner spiritual split: in church, we contemplate the iconostasis and yearn for Heaven, but upon returning home, at the very first mundane concern, we lose that exalted state.

This is what happened to Peter. Upon seeing the Savior, his soul rejoiced. As John Chrysostom wrote, “Peter rejoices not because they are walking on the water, but because he is walking toward Christ.” But doubt dwelt within Peter. His words—“Lord! if it is You, command me to come to You on the water,” are full of uncertainty. He was frightened: what if this isn’t the Lord, but a spirit that wants to drown him in the depths? As soon as doubt crept into his heart, Peter began to sink. This is how the evil one steals our prayerful attitude, throwing a noose of fears and questions around our minds: Does God hear me? Does He need me? Is this really the One I am seeking?

Waves and water in the Bible symbolize the abyss. We walk on the surface of this abyss both literally and figuratively. Literally—on the thin crust of the earth, beneath which lava bubbles; figuratively—in a realm of constant threats, illness, and sorrow. To avoid drowning, prayer is essential—a means of gathering one’s mind and will, a way to combat the duality of consciousness.

If we clear our minds of anxieties and direct all our will toward the desire to love Christ, then at some point we will see ourselves “drowning.” But it is precisely then that we will notice the Savior’s saving hand, stretched out to us over the abyss.

#Ruslan_Kalinchuk
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