A New Journey
After the rush of preparing for a vacation to California last year, I felt a pull to find a prayer to undergird the travel ahead. Fifteen minutes before leaving for the airport I quieted myself and paged through a copy of Celtic Daily Prayer. Reading the first line of one of the litanies - this one in honor of St. Brendan - I heard the echoes of a cry deep in my soul.
Lord, I will trust You, help me to journey beyond the familiar and into the unknown.
Quickly I printed off the page and left to catch the flight. Since copying that prayer and reading it throughout a week of returning to favorite places and visiting with family I continue to ponder its words.
St. Brendan of Clonfert (AD 484-577), also known as “the Navigator” and “the Voyager”, was one of the early Irish monastic saints. Over the centuries stories of his travels and/or visions of travel have been passed down. Whether actual or not, these tales provide insight into the risk of following Jesus, along with the promises of care.
The lines of this prayer point me to Peter’s attempt to follow Jesus walking on water. He has a vision to follow Jesus and asks for his help. But trust soon disappears. It’s this trust in Jesus that is essential.
“Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.”
“Come,” he said.
Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!”
Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?”
- Matthew 14:25-31
Like Peter, I can quickly become excited about an opportunity to follow Jesus in a new way. Maybe it’s through reaching out to a professor, calling a ministry partner, or nurturing a friendship. But often that initial excitement ebbs as I see the risks that lie ahead. The possibility of sinking is too much and I cry out, ready to turn back. It’s a journey I don’t want to take -whether literal or metaphorical.
The idea of pilgrimage has given me a way to approach such fears as it prompts me to find the story, the meaning behind the journey. At the beginning of a pilgrimage, I’m often open to what I encounter. But then fear creeps in, uncertainty becomes uncomfortable, and I look for something to hold onto and forget about that deeper story to which God may be calling. In a desire to control, I let go of the Spirit in the service of safety and efficiency. This is where I found myself in June, in a season of being in charge and losing sight of Jesus. Wanting to renew the experience of pilgrimage, I came across St. Brendan’s prayer.
Though my time in California is long over, this prayer continues to speak. These simple lines are breaking into the patterns I’ve created and are inviting me back into the life of pilgrimage. Over the coming weeks through “midrashing” on the verses, I intend to dive into these words - using them to help me stay focused on Jesus’ call to follow him instead of my fears.
You are welcome to join along on this journey.
