Stepping Out, Holding On, and Following the Call

In the coming weeks, I will begin a field placement at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Wilmington. It is the next step in my formation and discernment for Holy Orders, and I find myself approaching it with a mixture of excitement, gratitude, and more than a little nervousness.

Perhaps that is why the Gospel readings of the past two Sundays have spoken to me so personally. One gave us Peter stepping out of a boat onto uncertain waters. The other gave us a Canaanite woman who refused to walk away, even when the answer she first received was silence.

Together, they offer two pictures of faith that seem especially appropriate for this point in my journey: faith that is willing to step out and faith that is determined to hold on.

Stepping Out of the Boat

When Peter sees Jesus walking across the water, he says, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”

Jesus answers with one word: “Come.”

Peter steps out of the boat and begins walking toward him. For a moment, he does what should be impossible. But then he notices the wind. He becomes afraid and begins to sink.

I understand Peter. I suspect most of us do.

It is one thing to hear Christ call us while we are still sitting safely in the boat. It is another thing entirely to place our feet on the water. From inside the boat, discipleship can seem clear and even manageable. Once we step outside it, however, we become aware of the wind, the waves, and all the reasons we may not be capable of doing what Christ has called us to do.

As I prepare for this field placement, I am aware of my own wind and waves. There are questions about whether I am prepared, whether I will meet expectations, and whether I have the gifts necessary for the ministry to which I believe God is calling me. There is still much I need to learn about parish life, pastoral care, preaching, leadership, and the ordinary work of serving God’s people.

Yet Jesus did not tell Peter to wait until the water was calm. He simply said, “Come.”

That word has followed me throughout my discernment. The call has rarely arrived with certainty about every detail. More often, it has come as an invitation to take the next faithful step. Over time, my sense of call has become less of a question and more of a daily routine of obedience. God’s invitation has been steady, patient, and persistent—like a gentle hand placed upon my shoulder.

Field placement is another step out of the boat.

The good news in Peter’s story is not that he walked perfectly. He did not. He became frightened and began to sink. The good news is that when Peter cried, “Lord, save me,” Jesus immediately reached out his hand.

Peter’s faith was not demonstrated by his ability to remain above the water through his own strength. His faith was revealed in knowing whom to call when he began to sink.

Perhaps that is an important lesson for ministry. Faithful ministry does not require pretending that we are never afraid, uncertain, or overwhelmed. It requires keeping our eyes on Christ and trusting that his hand is near, even when we feel the water rising around us.

Holding On When the Answer Is Silence

The following Sunday, Matthew introduced us to a very different person. The Canaanite woman was an outsider. She had no social standing that would compel Jesus or the disciples to listen to her. Still, she came crying out for mercy because her daughter was suffering.

At first, Jesus did not answer her at all.

The disciples wanted to send her away. When Jesus finally responded, his words seemed to reinforce the boundaries that excluded her. Yet she would not leave. She knelt before him and said, “Lord, help me.”

Even after hearing that it was not right to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs, she remained. Her answer was both humble and wonderfully bold: “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.”

She did not demand a place of honor. She simply believed that even the smallest portion of Christ’s mercy would be enough.

And Jesus answered, “Woman, great is your faith!”

Peter shows us the faith to step out. This woman shows us the faith to stay.

Discernment requires both.

There are moments when God’s call feels clear and we must leave the boat. There are also moments when God seems silent, when doors close, when plans change, and when we begin to wonder whether we misunderstood the call altogether. In those moments, faith may look less like walking on water and more like refusing to walk away.

My own journey has included both kinds of moments. There have been times of clarity and encouragement, but there have also been delays, uncertainty, and questions without immediate answers. I have learned that discernment is not the same as developing a plan and asking God to approve it. It is the slower and sometimes uncomfortable work of surrendering our plans so that God can shape us through the journey.

I do not seek ordination as a personal achievement or as the completion of a religious checklist. I seek it as a response to God’s invitation to serve his Church and his people. Field placement is not simply another requirement to finish. It is an opportunity to listen, learn, serve, and allow God to reveal more clearly the kind of ministry—and the kind of person—to which I am being called.

Finding Christ Already There

One of the truths I continue to discover is that Christ usually calls us to join him where he is already at work.

Jesus was already on the water when he called Peter out of the boat. The mercy sought by the Canaanite woman was already present, even before its fullness was revealed. In the same way, I will not bring Christ to St. Paul’s. Christ is already there—in its worship, its people, its ministries, its joys, its struggles, and its life together.

My task will be to pay attention.

I hope to learn from the clergy and people of St. Paul’s. I hope to listen carefully to their stories and become part of their common life. I hope to grow in my ability to preach clearly and humbly, to care for people steadily and compassionately, and to recognize the ways God is already moving among them.

I also expect to make mistakes. Peter sank. The disciples misunderstood. Even faithful people sometimes miss what God is doing directly in front of them. Formation does not require perfection. It requires humility, teachability, and the willingness to keep following.

The ministry I increasingly feel called toward is not built upon dramatic accomplishments. Much of it is simply presence, patience, and perseverance. It is showing up, listening, praying, serving, and trusting that God works through ordinary faithfulness more often than through extraordinary experiences.

As I prepare for St. Paul’s, I pray for enough courage to step out when Christ says, “Come.” I pray for enough persistence to remain when the answer seems delayed. I pray for enough humility to cry, “Lord, save me,” when I begin to sink. And I pray for the grace to remember that even the crumbs of Christ’s mercy are more than enough.

I do not know everything this field placement will hold. That is part of discernment. We are not given the whole journey at once. We are given the next step, the next opportunity to trust, and the next invitation to follow.

For now, that invitation leads to St. Paul’s in Wilmington.

And so, with gratitude, hope, and a healthy awareness of the wind and waves, I am stepping out of the boat