A crowd more than five thousand fed,
with leftovers, we fill twelve baskets  
and You’re tired as the sun sets,
so You send us on ahead while You go to pray,
a short journey across a wide lake
to another shore, another day coming
of people healing, sermon teaching,
my thoughts drift as it’s deep night, we’re rowing
while the wind’s blowing against us,
when out of no where, there’s a ghost
gliding on the water, shining,
soon approaching our starboard side,
my brothers and I, terrified, we shout, we cry,
then Your voice says it is I, take courage, no fear,
Awestruck, excited, I quickly reply,
if it’s you, let me walk on water too,
You tell me come, and so I jump,
feet ready to tread the solid water
I stand firm, eyes fixed on you, my Friend and Master
you’re smiling as I step forward,
but the wind whips my face,
turns my gaze to the waves,
and soon I’m afraid, then I’m sinking,
then drowning and screaming, save me,
I throw my arms blindly toward you
and somehow I’m safe, you’ve taken
my hand, pulled me up firmly,
saying Peter, why did you doubt me?
the wind ceases as we climb aboard,
I rejoin my brothers at the oars,
but not before I fall before You giving
thanks—it was that night I knew You were
the Christ.

Be serpent shrewd and dove docile,*
my Teacher tells me and sends me,
His sheep among wolves with nothing
packed except a walking staff,
but no gold is worth this good news
my Master unmatched by silver,
so I’m empty-handed but full-Spirited
for His might in me somehow inside
I feel Him living, as I travel places
to preach a Kingdom coming to my people
who wait with open doors to listen,
my work a different kind of fishing,
casting out with healing words
reeling others in to follow Him.

I’m standing in the back unsteady,
not understanding Your story about good seed
fields with soil rich and deep,
enemies in the night that plant weeds,
which burn in bundles while reaping the wheat.
Later I ask, which makes You laugh
but it’s laughter of a patient kind,
for You take the time to tell me
You’re the sower, the field the world,
the seeds You plant, your people, me,
among the weeds, the devil’s lies, I’ll grow,
His own, until the end of time
while evil dies in flames, we’ll shine together,
and Peter, You say, *blessed are your questioning ears,
for you hear what prophets prayed to hear,
the mysteries they strained for years
to see before your eyes.

You turn water into wine at a wedding,
then I sit on a Sabbath day watching
as you give a sermon better than the scribes,
drive a demon from the dead eyes
of an unclean man who screams
you’re the Holy God and King--
one night, I bring you home to my wife,
and her mother fevered, flickering life
on a bed upstairs she’s cold, shivering
til you hold her hand and lift her laughing,
well, so whole she can run to open the door
for knocking neighbors, who come in crying
and leave smiling, all sickness and evil spirits fleeing
you, who’s gone to pray when I wake next morning,
who I search for, frantic, fearing losing you
as I’ve just begun to find you.

Lately the sun’s warmed the sea, the fish hide deep
still as we sail you say to me these nets just washed let down,
I obey, for my brother names you Messiah, found,
and I wonder what you are that catches crowds—
suddenly I haul away at weight that weighs the boat
to sinking, I spent weeks worth working for half a load
as large as this, impossible cargo your power calls
and I cry leave me at your feet among the fish, face low,
for the blood of days is on my hands,
and in me there is too much man
but you stay with words I don’t understand:
*You have a new name, Peter, don’t be afraid  
we’ll catch men in the waters of this world.

Dear daughter dancing at the wrong time,
playing in the wrong place,
I hear you breaking
as they’re saying sit still, lie low,
keep clean, mind manners
judged by how silent
how still you keep your body
bound to beauty on the surface,
so you’ll keep yourself seen
to make yourself heard,
wear yourself like
a weapon, a wall, or worse, your worth
when there’s more to you that matters.

All those symphonies
you wrote to my
           heartbeat
had I not lost my hearing
the band would still be
          playing
but all the voices many mine lied louder
than the drum-rolls in my chest
your
         melodies
bested by the worst of them of me
now on my knees
before a God who says He’s good
if He could
         please
write away my wrongs with  
         a new song
that makes you see the
         I’m sorry
         I’m singing
aloud, the repent of my deafness that
I hope you’ll hear
yet I fear the only
        music
I’ll ever make for you is
         pain.