The sun reflected just right off the uneven sea. The air smelled of pure salt, bringing me back to my childhood. However, this location varies in more ways than one from the memories of my childhood beach days. It carried a stronger significance. A supernatural event occurred here that will never to be seen again and witnessed by only 12 men, a man walked on the water.
Out on the Sea of Galilee, the sun was starting to make its descent when we pushed off from the rocky shore and began to make our way onto the choppy water. The paddle board was big enough to comfortably fit the four of us, staggering the placement of a girl and a guy to balance out the weight. The person in the back was responsible for being the rudder and he was steering us directly toward the mountain on the opposite shore, behind which the sun was trying to say goodbye. We managed to keep the board in a straight line, our eyes never leaving the ridge of the mountain, mesmerized by the glow of the sunset over the landscape. We did not want to miss one moment of what would be the only sunset we saw here. Our legs ached from bracing ourselves against the water which was giving us tell-tale signs that a storm was coming. Our arms too were holding the paddles fighting against the current to keep the board on the intended path.
As we got about a mile and a half from the shore, we stopped paddling, turned the board to the left and one by one sat down. Out in the middle of the Sea of Galilee, the world seemed to stop for a minute. The sun was still setting, but that was the only sense of time we had. We could no longer make out the shapes of those we left behind on the shore, although occasionally we could hear their screams of laughter. The darkness enveloped the landscape behind us, the sun’s rays not long enough to maintain a grip on the details of the plains and mountains of the region of the Decapolis and the Golan Heights. And as we sat, the board would dip below the water, causing it to glaze over the paddle-board's surface. The water was cold, tingling my toes as it hit my bare feet, it was refreshing in an odd sort of way. We floated here, above the depths, for an hour.
Sitting on the swaying board, waiting for the peak of the sunset, was the opportune time to reflect on the events that occurred on this very water 2,000 years ago. As Jesus’ Galilean ministry picked up its pace, He was finding it necessary to find time to retreat and spend time in prayer. One specific instance was after the feeding of the five thousand. He sent the disciples in the boat to the other side ahead of Him, while He spent hours in prayer. Out on the water a storm blew up unexpectedly, as they are known to do on this Sea. The wind was so harsh that after 9 hours they had only traveled 3 miles.
The miracle occurred soon after the fourth watch of the night, which would be between 3:00 and 6:00 in the morning. The waves were crashing over the small boat, the disciples’ focus would have been on saving their own lives by keeping it upright. Then in the midst of the torrent, a figure passes by their boat. They were terrified, and rightly so. They soon recover and recognize the figure as their Lord and invite Him into the boat. Once Jesus was in the boat with them, immediately the wind and storm ceased. And all their struggling was finished as their boat immediately reached the shore. He has complete control over the wind and waves, over all creation and each of our lives. As I sat on the board, I knew that in the next day or two a storm would grace this currently calm sea with its presence, and I caught the smallest glimpse of what the disciples felt.
Returning to the sunset I realized, for most of the trip, the sea was covered with a thick haze, and many times I could barely make out the high mountains of Tiberius on the other side. But today the warmth of the sun had burned off the thick layer of fog and put on a grand show for us this evening. Providing the perfect weather for a sunset paddle board ride. The sun gave off an orange and yellow glow that bounced off the blue sky, but as it made its way behind the mountains, the orange increased to a neon and pink made an appearance as the light stretched across the sky, hitting the scattered clouds. But the peak time was right after the sun itself had gone and only the colors remained. The pink reflected off the rippling water, casting a golden glow on each of us and overshadowing the silhouetted mountains. Above us, flocks of birds flew in giant V-formations calling to each other, they were images of hundreds of silhouettes against this vibrant sky.
Intent on the sunset, I realized for this time, March 16, 2020, the coronavirus had no effect on us here and the world for a moment was at peace. In the midst of the roller-coaster of emotions and the news updating every day to bring us increasingly unpleasant information of the virus and its effects on many people in different nations, we found this quiet corner of the world where we could forget about it all. We were spoiled to be here, not only in Galilee, but in the country of Israel itself, not many have this incredible opportunity. We took full advantage of the calm, talking and taking a few pictures to capture the moment as best as we could, knowing that we would have to leave soon, but enjoying the blissful ignorance and separation from the outside world going into a pandemic.
But the dark was creeping in on us and it was time to go back to land. The peace of dusk was lost, and we were quickly snatched back into reality. Against the wind and waves, we paddled back to shore and went about the rest of our life.
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