Pillow Talk

That evening they had set out as he had asked them to. He had asked them to cross over to the other side of the Lake. Isn't it often the belief in life that the other side nearly always promises to be better than this side.

They had taken him on board, notwithstanding the darkening sky, the threatening clouds, and the wind coming from the wrong direction. Everything was forecasting disaster. Their experience told them it would be wiser not to venture onto the Lake.

But they probably thought they were safe with him; after all, wasn't he the one whom angels and demons seemed to obey. Even when the storm broke - as they knew it would - they were not too alarmed. They pointed at him, resting in the stern of the boat with his head peacefully on a pillow some kind person had probably supplied for him.

It was only when the water started to fill the boat with so much power that they became alarmed and woke him up: "Master, don't you care, we are going down". He woke up and looked around. He stood up, leaving the pillow behind him. He raised his hand and ordered the wind to be still, calming the sea. And all was quiet again. Then he looked at them and said: "Why were you so afraid? How is it that you have no faith?"

Their fear turned into awe, a reverential fear, and they said to one another: "How can this be, how can this be?" Then they took their oars and rowed the boat the rest of the way to the other side, while he went back and laid his head on the pillow.

That awe never left their lives, as long as they were accompanying him. Every step he made seemed to be so new, every word he uttered made such a difference, that they felt their old insecurities fall away again and again. The old order was crumbling before their eyes. It was as if he was always saying to them: "Let us go away from here, let us go to the other side".

And he always seemed to be so confident about the outcome that he could "chill out" with his head on a pillow.