A very (very) long time ago I was a curate. For those who might not know what that is, it is something that usually happens when your formal training for ministry comes to an end and before you can go it alone in your own parish. A vicar is selected who is thought to be a good mentor for a new cleric. It’s a role that requires a lot of patience as fledgeling clergy find their wings.  As you might imagine, working so closely together, there’s a lot of scope for becoming irritated by one another! Sometimes this can happen at exactly the same time about exactly same thing – but not exactly for the same reason! But just in case my training incumbent is watching online – of course that never happened with us!

Through this process of working together it’s hoped that you begin to be formed as a priest, knowing that like all clergy we are imperfect and unfinished. Yet somehow, despite all our failings, God continues to use the skills of the minister – even their failings – as a way of serving people and leading the worshiping community.

In the Gospels we see Jesus teaching the disciples, but we also read about them simply spending time with him: watching, learning, reflecting. Sometimes they get things wrong and have difficult conversations, like when Jesus says to Peter, ‘Get thee behind me, Satan!’

The disciples are being taught by Jesus in every step they take with him during the three years of his ministry before the crucifixion. They weren’t attending a class but immersing their lives in the life of their teacher. The stories they told become the basis of how we know Jesus, spending time with him as we read and digest his life into our own.

Rowan Williams, a previous Archbishop of Canterbury, has written extensively on what discipleship means. A key feature of this work is the emphasis Williams places on learning by being alongside Jesus. He says that discipleship is a way of being, not simply a set of beliefs or tasks. Like those first disciples, we need to spend time with Jesus, loitering with the teacher whose life is the entirety of his message.

Whether that’s in reading the Gospels, taking time to pray, or simply being in the company of other disciples and sharing their experiences. Thankfully, we have been left a host of vivid and engaging stories that help us step into the world of those first disciples. Today’s Gospel does just that, placing us with them far from the shore, battered by wind and waves, as Jesus comes to them across the water. We might take comfort from the fact that when disciples are all at sea, whether then or now, Jesus comes out of the storm saying, ‘Take heart… do not be afraid’. In response, Peter wants to be there with Jesus on the waves, and Jesus beckons him on. There is both love and impatience in Peter’s determination. He wants to be with his Rabbi, but he also doubts whether this miracle can sustain him.

There’s a wonderful painting by the contemporary artist Roger Wagner that captures this moment. Peter is outside the boat; feet planted in the waves. His arms go in two completely different directions. One appears to be clinging onto the boat for dear life. The other is stretched out towards the figure of Jesus, open-handed and full of desire to let go of the boat and rely wholly on faith. It’s a posture we might all recognise: the attraction of the solid, familiar and dependable set against the summons to step beyond what we can imagine. What would you do? Let go and risk it all, or stay by the boat, comforted by its seeming security even while it is battered by waves?

I think most Christians would recognise both these feelings: the attraction of what we know and the pull of where God may be leading us. When we accompany Jesus, we allow the whole experience of the Word made flesh to enter our lives: not just into our minds, but into our hearts and souls. What matters more than anything else is for this relationship to be alive; deeper than simply following a set of teachings or complying with a particular religious code. To experience doubt or conflict isn’t failure, but evidence of a living conversation between us and the life of Christ. Like Peter, we are caught in the tension between the familiar and the unknown future opened to us by Jesus — all in response to his presence.

This is more than mentoring. As Rowan Williams says of discipleship: “You’re hanging around; you’re watching; you’re absorbing a way of being… you learn by sharing life; you learn by looking and listening.” As Christians, we’re called to keep company with Christ: in worship, in prayer, in reading the Bible, and in learning from one another.

A kind of holy loitering with the life who is the light of the world. Looking for Jesus even where we think he shouldn’t be. Walking towards us across the choppy waves of life, holding out a hand and saying, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid’.

Amen.