A Perilous Pathway
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"Lord, bid me come unto You on the water." Matthew 14:28
Poor Peter! What a weary anxious night of toil and watching he had spent in that storm-tossed ship, with a contrary wind blowing hard, and without the presence of his beloved Lord! But now the fourth watch has begun, the day is breaking, and with the first streaks of dawn, hope springs up in his heart that deliverance will come. It comes in a very unexpected manner, as do most of our great mercies. We fear as we enter into the cloud; but, as it envelopes us, we find it luminous with God's gracious manifestion of Himself. These poor disciples "cried out for fear," when they first saw Jesus, though they had been longing and praying for Him all the night, and should have been prepared for any revelation of His glory. But Peter — loving, impetuous Peter — when he heard his Master's voice, was impatient to embrace Him; he could not endure the distance from his Lord which that cruel sea interposed, so he made the great venture that has been an object-lesson of faith to all succeeding generations.
The whole account, as given in the Gospel, is a striking picture of many phases of our Christian life; but in this brief meditation I am looking chiefly at two points on the glowing canvas:
1. permission sought: "Lord, bid me come"
2. the perilous pathway: "on the water."
Beloved reader, I will suppose that you, like myself, are longing for the closer realization of Christ's presence, thirsting for nearer and dearer communion with Him, yet, alas I too often failing to obtain an abiding consciousness of it. How are we to secure the blessing? How are we to step out of the old life, into a new and Divine experience? Not by our own efforts, most assuredly. If Peter had attempted to leave his ship without his Lord's command, he would have sunk immediately.
Our dependence upon God is absolute. Our own struggles after likeness to Christ, and fellowship with Him, are, in themselves, unavailing. He must "draw" — or we cannot "run after Him." He must "bid" — or we cannot "come." Pride and self-sufficiency are laid in the dust by this doctrine; but that only proves its truth and necessity. And the true believer is impelled by it, not to relinquish his desires — but to increase his earnest pleadings that God would speak the word of sovereign grace.
"Bid me come." Frances Ridley Havergal used to say, "All God's biddings — are enablings," and herein lies the secret of the life of faith, that the obedient heart agrees completely with the Lord's declaration, "Without Me you can do nothing!" Ah! dear souls, be very sure that, if you have a real desire to come to Christ — He gave it to you, and is more than ready to bestow also the power to take that step of faith, "out of self — into Him," which has hitherto seemed impossible. He is waiting to "bid "you; it is for this that He has come walking over the sea of separation, and so far revealed Himself to you as to make you long to know more of Him; and, as soon as you have learned your own helplessness, and HisAlmighty strength — quicker than on the wings of the wind will the sweet call reach you, "COME!"
"On the water." Now is the test of faith. To walk on the water, was Peter's own proposition; and the Lord granted his request. He could have been at His disciple's side in a moment, and spared him the trial of faith, and the discovery of its feebleness which this experience gave him. But it seems to be the law of the Kingdom, that we come to Christ on the very waves which separate us from Him; and this is doubtless for our profit — that we may again prove our own weakness, and learn to trust wholly in His strength. Perhaps, in the first flush of joy that the Lord has bidden us come, it seems an easy thing to "walk on the water to go to Jesus," and self-confidence whispers that we are quite able of ourselves to tread the wondrous pathway. But we soon discover our helplessness apart from Him. The wind is boisterous, the waves are threatening, we remember the great deep beneath us, fear overcomes faith, and "beginning to sink," we cry, "Lord, save me!"
Yet how often is it "on the water" that we find a royal road to His dear feet, and how frequently do our fears and infirmities force upon us the conviction that our blessed Master is truly a Divine and Almighty Savior!
How quickly His outstretched hand delivers and supports us, how calm and safe we feel when we joyfully realize His immediate presence!
I think the dear Lord must have kept Peter's hand in His own as they walked back to the ship, for the wind did not cease till they were on board, yet we hear of no further fears of sinking. At any rate, I know that, whatever may be the depth or danger of the seas of sin, or sorrow, or trial over which Christ bids us come to Him — His right hand will hold us safely till we reach the fair haven of Emmanuel's Land.
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