On the morrow, coming somewhat late into the congregation in the midst of their worship, I heard them singing a psalm which, because there arose hence a question afterwards between myself and the brethren, I will here set down; and as near as I can remember, the words were these:—
“O Pilot of our bark What though the night be dark? What though the tempest rave? Thou still canst hear and save.
“Tossed by the troubled sea, O Lord, we cry to thee, And through the murky night, What figure meets our sight?
“Lo, pitying our fear The Lord himself draws near, Walking upon the wave His helpless ones to save.
“In terror of his face Vanish the clouds apace, His footsteps on the deep Lull every wave to sleep.
“The winds obey his will, The raging storm is still; Then turn we to adore And lo, at hand the shore.”
Now these words or others like unto them, had been well-known to me for a long time, because some such psalm had been brought to us at Colossæ from Ephesus (from which city many psalms and hymns had come to divers churches) and it was commonly sung in the churches of Asia; and indeed, even among the ancient poems of the Jews, there is a psalm not much unlike this, wherein the mariners cry unto the Lord in their trouble and he delivereth them out of their distress, for, saith the psalm, “He maketh the storm to cease so that the waves thereof are still;” and another psalm saith, “Thy way is in the sea and thy path on the great waters.” But, often as I had sung these words, it had never so much as entered my mind to interpret them according to the letter; for even as the Greeks or Romans compare the state to a ship and the ruler to a pilot, even so had we been wont to speak, in a figure, of the Church as being a ship tossed upon the sea of troubles and persecutions, and of the Lord Jesus as her pilot in the storm; and I had also heard mention made, when I was in Britain, of some new hymn showing in a figure, how the blessed Apostle Petrus denied his Master, and describing how he adventured to walk, in his own strength, upon the troubled sea of temptation, but his faith failed him so that he began to sink, and he had been drowned in the deep waters of sin, but that the Lord stretched out his hand and saved him; but in this and other such psalms and hymns there was never a thought of any real boat nor of a real storm of wind and waves. Therefore, the worship being now ended, when a certain Philologus, one of the brethren, accosted me asking my judgment of this psalm, as if I should have censured it, I replied (not without some wonder at the strangeness of his question) that the psalm was a good one, and that none could find any fault in it. But Philologus replied, “If therefore, O Onesimus, you allow of this miracle of the Lord, why contend you against these other miracles of which the Gospel makes mention?” I said, “Nay, but of what miracle do I allow?” He said, “Even that miracle and no other, which is clearly described in the psalm, how the Lord Jesus walked upon the waters to save the holy Apostles; yea, and one of the new Gospels affirms that the blessed Apostle Petrus adventured himself to walk upon the waves; but his faith failed him so that he began to sink.”