A Slippery Slope

Hauling them upToday Hans, Louisa, and I took 3 little ones to our snow-covered beach where we careened down slippery dunes on plastic sleds amidst abundant giggles and squeals. Twice our sleds ended up in the creek, but wet legs and mittens never dampened spirits.

When we first arrived, the children couldn’t get enough of the “down” but resisted the arduous “ups”, pleading to be pulled to the top of the snowy dune while sitting in the sleds. We complied, wanting them to gain enough enthusiasm for the sledding experience to stay all afternoon.

Pull me up!After a few hauls up, however, we adults began insisting the children climb back up by themselves, to which there was unanimous objection. Ages 3, 2, and 2, they planted themselves at the bottom, refusing to come up without assistance. We stood at the top cajoling them, but still they refused, wanting us to make the experience easier on them.

I’ve done something quite similar when God has asked me to make a hard climb toward a difficult goal he’s set for me. Knowing it would be difficult and that he could make things easier caused me to plead for him to do so. But the hard truth was that without the pain, I’d have missed the gain.

Our little ones could have chosen to stand at the bottom of the hill indefinitely, but if they had, they’d have missed the delights of a fast ride down on a sled. Something similar happens when we mentally shake a fist at God and say, “You aren’t being fair! None of my friends have had to go through what you’re putting me through. I simply refuse to obey you.”

In that situation, God says the same thing Hans said to his children this afternoon. “Ok, have it your way. But you won’t get to slide down if you don’t come up first.”

All of us would rather live life on a continual down-hill, but that trajectory would put us on a slippery slope to self-indulgence. When we refuse to take any route other than the easy one, we become lethargic and spoiled. Worse yet, we miss the joy that becomes ours after we obey an all-wise God.

Ready to go!Even a young child can figure that out. Today after one of our little ones finally decided to trudge up the dune to get a ride down, the other two stumbled their way up, too. It was rewarding to see how well they adjusted to doing the difficult thing, if it meant they could have another joyful sled ride. Before long they were running up the dune to “go again.”

And it works the same with us. Once we’re willing to tackle God’s prescribed challenges, the excitement of sharing in the results he brings makes it much easier to trudge up next time, so we can “go again.”

“What I am commanding you today is not too difficult for you or beyond your reach.” (Deuteronomy 30:11)

Where the Action Is

All of us who grew up in Sunday school have our favorite Bible stories. Since I’ve always loved the beach, especially on wavy days, one of mine is about Jesus (and Peter) walking on water. Which of us, as children, didn’t try it ourselves? Maybe that’s what made us want to be friends with Jesus. Anybody who could do that kind of thing would be a great friend to have!

I’ve read that story hundreds of times but the other day saw two “new” things. The narrative tells us that the 12 disciples were obeying Jesus when they all got in a boat at night and pushed off into the Sea of Galilee without him. He’d just fed the 5000 and needed some alone-time with his Father. Glad to see them go, he quickly found a “desolate” spot to pray.

But after a while, ever mindful of these 12 men, he looked out over the water and saw them struggling to navigate the 6 miles from one coast to the other. The Bible says this occurred a little after 3:00 am, when the disciples were about half way there.

Rowing into head winds, they weren’t making much progress as waves washed over them and into their boat. Jesus terminated his prayer time and headed out to calm things down. Did he instantly go from land to mid-sea? Did he walk up and down on the waves as if they were sand dunes? Did he move through them without getting wet? Scripture doesn’t say.

But the fact that was “new” to me about Jesus walking on the water was what Mark wrote: “Jesus came to them, walking on the sea. He meant to pass by them.” (6:48)

He meant to pass by them? Really? That’s what it says.

Why would that be? Was he planning to circle their boat? Or maybe calm the waves on his way past? Or get ahead of them to urge them toward him? Or maybe pull the boat to shore?

We’re given no answers to any of these questions, but there’s more. John wrote the other something that was “new” to me. After Jesus finally climbed into the boat John says, “Immediately the boat was at the land to which they were going.” (6:21)

Immediately?

As I read through the story, it occurred to me there was a fairly long list of miracles that occurred that night.

  • Jesus arriving on the stormy scene suddenly.
  • Then his walking on wild water.
  • Peter walking on water.
  • Jesus calming the waves and winds.
  • Instantaneous transport of the boat and its passengers to the opposite shore.
  • Earlier that day the feeding of 5000+ people from practically nothing.
  • And as they miraculously arrived on shore, they saw him heal scores of people who simply touched his hemline.

It seems that Jesus was continually the centerpiece of miracles and wonders, day and night, no matter where he went. Reading the accounts in Scripture is always stimulating, despite ending up with more questions than answers, but there’s one thing I know for sure. Wherever Jesus was, that’s where the action was.

And it’s still true today.

“Jesus said to them, ‘It is I; do not be afraid.’” (John 6:20)

Lookout Point

In August of 1972, Tim Taylor, a 13 year old Boy Scout, hiked alone up a mountain peak in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. He wasn’t technically alone, since his scout troop was down the mountain a ways, enjoying a rest on their 3-day camping trip.

When Tim noticed that his topographical map had no name for that particular peak, he wondered if any human had ever been up there. That’s all it took for him to lace on his hiking boots and go. Once he reached the summit, he marked his milestone by writing a note and folding it into a small metal film canister, tucking it near the base of a massive rock.

One month ago another hiker, maybe just the second person to reach that spot, found the rusted canister, now 40 years old. The note, “looking like it was written yesterday,” said:

“TIM TAYLOR CLIMBED TO THIS PEAK, AUGUST 17, 1972, AGE 13 YEARS. ANYONE FINDING THIS PLEASE WRITE…” In an effort to be thorough he also wrote, “HEIGHT OF PEAK: 12785.”

The 2012 hiking party (a grandfather, son, and grandson) searched for Tim Taylor, now age 53, for over a month. No one at the old address had heard of him, but an article posted on the front page of the local paper jogged the memory of former neighbors and friends, and they notified Tim, who was astounded.

“It’s been a fun week!” Taylor said during an interview. When asked if he’d recently thought about his 1972 note, he said he’d wondered about it, off and on, throughout the years.

Surely as a boy he thought a great deal about the little canister sitting on the mountaintop, sometimes covered with snow, other times baking in the sun. Had anyone found it? Had it blown away? Was it still closed tight? Was the note ok?

Tim had questions, but of course the only one with the answers was God. He had his eye on the canister throughout those years, just as he has his eye on each of us at all times. As my mom used to say, “God keeps the books.” In other words, he’s watching over all parts of his world and all of us, all at once, all the time.

This is good news for people who quietly go about doing the right thing without being noticed. It’s bad news for those who do the bare minimum or act with wrong motives or cause damage. Nothing can be hidden from God, though he does encourage us hide ourselves…. in him.*

So what about Tim Taylor? Today he’s a San Diego County Superior Court Judge, probably writing lots of notes. Though he isn’t ready to retire, I’ll bet when he does, he’ll be lacing up his hiking boots and heading for that unnamed mountain.

* “You [Lord] are a hiding place for me; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with shouts of deliverance.” (Psalm 32:7)