Some of you remember darkrooms, where you could develop images from photos you had taken with actual film in a bulky camera? Imagine with me that we are in such a place, a dark room, developing a photo. The glossy white paper seems to glow in the clear liquid underneath the red lights. The water sloshes around and slowly, slowly, an image begins to appear. It is flesh. It is fingers, a hand, two hands, each grasping the wrist of the other.

Perhaps it is a picture of Jesus’ hand grabbing Peter just before the waves of the sea engulf him. It is the grasp of salvation received. Because there are times when our competence, our good intentions, our wise decisions, will be enough to buoy us up. And there are times when the waters are just too rough; our faith is just took weak. And we struggle to lift our hand above the crashing waves and pray for that touch and that tightening of fingers around our wrist.

Perhaps it is a picture of that famous Anabaptist Dirk Willems grasping the hand of his pursuer and pulling him out of the icy water. It is the hand of peace extended to all, without consideration of the cost. Because the temptation will be to help only those who are like us; only those who like us. Our inclination is to reach out only when it is safe and not too much trouble. But Jesus calls us to love our enemies. Even if it means pulling them out of icy water when we know they are seeking our harm.

Perhaps this newly developed photo is a picture of two people, holding on to each other. One is grasping the flailing hand of the other, ready to pull them into the boat. Or the other is grasping the one, struggling to lift them from the stormy waters. In a family, in a church, that’s often how the picture is—impossible to say who is grasping who.

It’s possible, I suppose, that these clasping hands do not mean that one is saving the other, but that both are united as they reach out to serve the world. That they are united as they reach for the hand of Jesus in the midst of life’s chaos.

The image that appears is something of a mystery. Whose hands are these? Why are they connected? Will they be able to hold on?

Yet in the midst of the mystery stands a clear promise: God is present with us no matter how rough the seas. And, through the grace of God, we can be present with and for each other.

May we all experience the joy of holding hands with the ones we love, the peace of being grasped by the hand of God.

*This reflection is adapted from a meditation I wrote for the wedding of Elise and Adam Derstine. With thanks to them for the creative wedding scripture selection!