Those few that have painted St. Peter sinking in the waves and being rescued by Jesus provide good commentary on the true nature of all leadership. Popes and pastors, just like princes and presidents, or principals and parents, are nothing but limited human beings who live and die by the gracious hand of our Savior. We don’t gain authority acting as though we always know the truth absolutely, or credibility by staying safely in the boat or even by walking on water, but by … well, by what?

To find the answer, we have to wade into this story. Jesus dismisses the crowds after feeding the 5,000 and sends the disciples into a boat while he goes up to pray in the high hills that border the lake. By evening he can see that a squall has come up, as they often do at a moment’s notice even today on the Sea of Galilee. The boat is battered by the waves, Matthew tells us, far from land, because the wind is against them. The storm must be bad, because these are mostly professional fishermen. But even professionals come up against times when our skills fail and we feel like we are close to capsizing.

Any of you ever found yourself over your head in your work? You may have been a success in your field, confident of your ability, and then the weather turns bad. A market cold front blows through—stocks or real estate are hit hard. Or one of your subordinates makes a mistake, or maybe you do. Or you make it to graduate school because you are among the brightest in your class, and then you walk into a classroom with so many other bright lights you feel like the dimmest bulb. Everyone gets to that point at some point.

Jesus comes to the aid of the disciples. He comes walking on the water in the dark of the early morning hours. Now, for some people, this simply doesn’t hold water. It brings into question Jesus’ full humanity. And in truth, the meaning of the story is something more than the literal walking on water. Faith shouldn’t have to swallow things that offend the intellect just to prove religion is superior to reason. But while that is true, divorcing faith and reason for irreconcilable differences is not the answer. Faith and reason are two approaches to one truth, not two claims to truths in which each reproaches the other. Faith and reason need each other. Faith teaches reason to raise its head; reason keeps faith’s feet on the ground. Faith gives reason a heart; reason gives faith a mind. Faith and reason are not sibling rivals; they are kissing cousins.

So I take Jesus’ walk on the water not as a contradiction of nature but as an insight into the nature of nature. It is a slicing of eternity into time, a slight opening of the window between heaven and earth, a thin place in the veil that separates God and the world. In the heavenly realm, God rules nature naturally. In the earthly realm, nature often overrules the rule of human beings. But now and then and here and there, God gives us a glimpse of the world to come when heaven and earth are one. It is a world without terror, a world in which nature serves and befriends us even as we preserve and protect it.

Jesus’ walking on water shows us that the Lord of nature comes to us to save us in the midst of our distress; our hope is found in God’s nature, in other words, not in our nature. This does not answer the question of why God doesn’t do such a thing all the time, why we have a miracle only here and there, now and then, and not everywhere always, but it does at least address the question of the possible.

When the disciples see Jesus walking on the water, then they are terrified. Matthew doesn’t say they were frightened by the storm so much as by the ghost-like figure walking on the waves. Why? They’d been in storms before. They knew that danger. What was this?

Isn’t this true of our encounters with God? As long as we are able to keep our problems to ourselves and accept our limits, we can manage. But when we glimpse something that challenges our worldview, we wonder what else is out there that causes us to question our certainty and sanity—well, that kicks up a storm inside us even more than outside us. What if we can be different after all? What if things can change after all? What if a power is loose in the world that is greater than the wind and waves?

Jesus knows our fear. Take heart, he says. It is I. Take heart. Courage. Do not be afraid. Good words. But on what basis can we take heart? Is this just the power of positive thinking? Why should we not fear? Because Jesus says, It is I.

Now that is not quite what he says. He actually says, Take heart. I am. Our English translation smooths it out a bit too much. For Jesus to say I AM is to claim that he is related to the great I AM. He is the very presence of God in their midst. In him we see the eternal Father, strong to save. This is the God who told Moses at the burning bush that the divine name is YHWH, I am who I am. When the disciples hear Jesus say Take heart, I am, they do not simply hear him say that he is there but that God is there with them.

And this alone is what disciples of every age need to hear. When we are keeping vigil in an ICU waiting room, praying for a loved one and feeling completely out of control, we need to hear Take heart. I am; do not be afraid. When we are over our heads at work and wonder if we will perish in the whelming flood, we need to hear Take heart, I am; do not be afraid. When a marriage is falling apart or a child is in danger and we feel powerless to do anything, we need to hear the words Take heart, I am; do not be afraid.

Only God is sufficient for all our needs. Only the one who rides the wind above the waves can calm our anxious hearts and quell the squall about us, too. We don’t need just any words; we need God’s words. We don’t need to screw up our own courage; we need the heart of God to invade our hearts.

These words, Take heart. I am; do not be afraid, are in the dead middle of the passage. Whatever is possible after this point is possible only because God has proven to be right in the middle of things with us.

So Peter asks Jesus for permission to come to him. Once he has taken heart, Peter is ready to jump into the fray. Disciples who take heart do not want to stay in the boat. Safety first is not a Christian motto. Peter may have been the leader of the early church precisely because he was always willing to jump ship, throw caution to the winds, and dive into the great adventure of being with Jesus on the high seas.

The way forward for the church is not to make safe decisions all the time. When we are thinking about how we serve the master of the wind and the waves, it is not by seeking calm sailing in placid seas. That would be letting fear rather than faith direct our lives. When you take heart by taking Jesus into your heart, you can risk your own leadership and not worry so much about your reputation.

But Peter does not just jump out of the boat, he asks for Jesus to command him to come. This is the proper order. Disciples are followers of Jesus’ orders; we do not act and then ask for Jesus’ blessing. We pray and then obey. What’s more, the power to walk on water, so to speak, to do extraordinary things, is not within any of us simply because we have enough faith. It is in us only if Jesus is in us. So Peter asks and Jesus bids him come to him.

Peter does not say, Lord, look at you! I want to be able to do what you are doing. Let me walk on water, too. The purpose here is not that we see Peter able to do what other men cannot. It is that Peter wants to come to Jesus, and the walking on water is simply the means to that end, not the end itself. The point of union with God is not what it allows us to do that we could not do before. The point of union with God is … union with God! Peter walks on water to get to Jesus, not simply to get to walk on water. As long as we keep our focus on Christ, nothing can separate us from him.

But we don’t always, do we? Even the great apostle starts looking around and saying to himself, How can this be? How can I be walking on water? And just then he begins to sink, because his faith focus shifts from Jesus to himself or the elements.

Lord, save me! Peter calls out. Which is just what we need to do over and over again. And Jesus immediately reaches out his hand and lifts him up. He doesn’t scold him for his lack of faith until after he saves him! God saves and then teaches.

To be a leader of any kind, and especially in the church, is to be a disciple like Peter first of all. We will have our moments when we seem to be walking on water, but we will lose faith and fail time and again. The answer is not to play it safe, but to accept that we will always live between faith and unfaith. The way of faith always contains doubt. If there is no doubt, there is no true faith.

The world doesn’t need the church to pretend it can walk on water because it has divine power. The world doesn’t need leaders of any kind—whether they office in Rome or Nashville, Washington or Dallas—pretending they have no doubts about their course of action or how to do their job. The world doesn’t need a church that is too sure of itself; it needs a church sure of Christ. The world doesn’t need Christian leaders too sure of themselves, and we have to stop demanding that of our leaders.

On November 2, 2004, Mohammed Bouyeri murdered Theo van Gogh, the grandson of Vincent’s brother Theo. He was shot down and knifed to death on the streets of Amsterdam for the crime of directing a film that Bouyeri believed disrespected Islam. Bouyeri killed for God. In his recent trial, he said he would do it again. He acted out of conviction. His faith could not be doubted. He knew beyond shadow of a doubt that he was doing the will of God.

It would be easy to say, There go those Muslims. Too easy. Most Muslims do not agree with Bouyeri. But Christians must see him as more than a Muslim gone wrong; he is a warning to us and all people of faith about being too sure of ourselves. Christian boldness must be matched by Christian humility. And that is true of Christians in leadership positions all the more. The stakes are high. How will we portray our faith to the world?

I think Matthew is telling us that Jesus would rather have leaders who keep their focus on him whether they sink or swim than those who always want to stay above the fray and therefore stay only on the surface of things. Baptism is deep-water business, don’t you know?! We aren’t saved by walking on water, but by going under, losing control, and being lifted up to Jesus.

Whoever you are this day, wherever you are in your life, hear his words again: Take heart, I am; do not be afraid.