Jesus Wasn't a Sailor

One of my favorite stories of Jesus is a sailing story. In part, it is because I grew up obsessed with sailing. I don’t really know where I got the passion because we didn’t own, or have access to, a sailboat. Yet, when I was young, when my family made trips to Lake Michigan, I would make a

That would've been me
on the pier.

beeline for the pier just so I could watch sailboats coming in and out of the channel. I would sit there for hours watching them bob through the waves. Of course that obsession carried into adulthood, and I finally did manage to own a couple of different sailboats in my life. But from experience I can tell you that the love of sailing is like a genetic defect. You either have it or you don’t. And if you have it, there is not much you can do about it.

I don't think Jesus had that particular genetic marker. That's because I’m pretty sure that Jesus wasn’t a sailor. Scholars tells us that he was most likely a carpenter. But I can assure you that he wasn’t a sailor. Why do I say this? Because the Gospel of Mark tells us a story of Jesus going sailing at the end of chapter 4. The story itself only takes 7 verses beginning to end. But within those 7 verses are so many clues that confirm my suspicion that Jesus wasn’t a sailor.

The story goes like this:   

That day when evening came, he said to his disciples, “Let us go over to the other side.”  Leaving the crowd behind, they took him along, just as he was, in the boat. There were also other boats with him. A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped.  Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke him and said to him, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?” He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm. He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?” They were terrified and asked each other, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!”

So the story opens with Jesus wanting to go over to the other side of the Sea of Galilee.  Mark then reports “they (the disciples) took him along, just as he was, in the boat.” As a lifelong

Sea of Galilee in gentler weather

sailor, this is the first giveaway that Jesus wasn’t a sailor. Understand that the disciples were sailors because they were fisherman. Way back then, the only way to propel your fishing boat was by sail. In the story, we see that the disciples looked at Jesus and made the instant assessment that clearly, Jesus wasn’t dressed for the voyage. But they took him along anyway “just as he was.”

The second clue that Jesus wasn’t a sailor is where the disciples put him when they start on the voyage: in the stern of the boat.  (For the uninitiated, the ‘stern’ is the back of the boat.) This is typically where you put landlubbers in a boat when you want to keep them out of harm’s way. Plus, if non-sailors start touching stuff that control the boat, it invariably leads to disaster. So put 'em in the back of the boat with strict instructions not to move. 

The third piece of evidence that Jesus wasn’t a sailor is what he was doing when the storm sprung up. He is asleep (on a cushion no less!) Who knows, maybe he got bored from the prohibition against touching important stuff in the boat. But grabbing z's in the midst of a storm is typical behavior of non-sailors. The boat is in distress and all they feel is gentle a rocking motion that lulls them to sleep.

So the disciples wake up Jesus with the sarcastic statement “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?!” Let me say as an aside that at this point in the story the disciples aren’t frightened. 

Storms don’t frighten sailors. The disciples grew up sailing boats on a body of water that is notorious for nasty weather, so this ain’t exactly their first rodeo. Rather, their statement is more likely a euphemism for saying: “Hey landlubber, wake up, grab a bucket and start bailing!”   

And at this moment in the story we come to final realization that Jesus wasn’t a sailor. Instead of bailing water out of the boat, Jesus does something far more amazing: He speaks the

Boats generally work better
when you keep water out of them

weather into submission. Yeah, trust me when I say that sailors can’t do that. To be clear, sailors constantly whisper, speak, and at times yell and scream at the weather. It’s what we sailors do. The only difference is that the weather never listens…let alone responds. So when Jesus does it, it is then, and only then, that the disciples are overwhelmed with emotion and cry out: “Who IS THIS that even the wind and waves obey him?”

I like to remember this story whenever I struggle with explaining complex theological concepts.  Things like divine providence, atonement, or this week’s topic, predestination. Obviously the debate on how God specifically operates within these concepts has been going on for thousands of years, and Christians still can’t reach complete resolution. So when I enter into the storm of the debate with my small boat of an intellect, I, too, can feel swamped and near sinking. I, too, want to scream at Jesus “Don’t you

What sailors refer to as:
"Heavy Weather"

care if I drown?!” But then I remind myself that he has the power to speak the elements into submission.  He has the sovereignty to do as he wishes. And the naked truth of it is that I don’t have the ability to simply explain it away. I cannot say with complete certainty on the 'how and why' God controls his Kingdom the way he does. It is then that I, like the disciples, am awash in awe and humility. It is then that I cannot help but blurt out: “Who IS THIS…?”

So yes, it’s true, that Jesus wasn’t a sailor. But I rest in the knowledge of his sovereign power and never ending love that I will always be safe and secure. And while Jesus may never have been a sailor, he will always be my Captain.

Keep the faith,

Green Tags, Brown Dogs, and Freedom

The other day I got to enjoy this.

It is a joy for me to be able to walk in God’s beautiful and incredible creation with my dog.  It is not only the companionship, it is how she draws attention to things that my eyes would normally miss.  I experience the trail with my eyes, she through her nose. This is possible because one of the many benefits of living in Boulder is that there are innumerable trails where you can let your dog off the leash…so long as it has a ‘green tag’ from the county.   You can get the green tag if you promise the county that your dog responds to ‘voice and sight control’, and of course, an annual fee of $30.  Yes, there are some rules you have to follow.  Yes, there is a cost.  But if you and your dog are obedient, it’s a small price to pay for a much bigger freedom.   You both get to be off the leash to walk, run, sniff, and explore at your own pace.  

Kona

In my adult life, I’ve had the privilege of owning three different dogs.  All of them came into our family life as puppies, but each by a different route.  The first, “Squirt”, was the runt of a litter that had been abandoned in a grocery store parking lot on Christmas Eve.  The second, “Kona”, was rescued from neglect by a close friend and given to us.  The current one, “Numa”, we saw on-line at the Boulder Animal Shelter and adopted first thing the next morning.   There are two things they all share:  Fur that is deep brown in color and obedience to my voice commands.  The first was a happy accident.  The second was a seriously intentional effort. 

From the moment these puppies entered our house and our life, they were all bundles of happily wagging tails, eager curiosity, and non-stop exploration.  They also chewed a lot of things we wish they hadn’t, and went potty in places they shouldn’t.  But they melted our hearts at first sight,

Who could possibly resist this?

and we loved them immensely.  I mean, who doesn’t love puppies? But we also wanted them to learn obedience, because we knew that obedience is not a happy accident in dogs, unlike brown fur.  To be clear, our love and devotion was there from the outset, unconditional on whether or not they would learn the rules and listen to our commands.  But an obedient dog is a dog you can trust to let off the leash.

Having three dogs has also taught me that instilling obedience requires an investment of a lot of intentional time and effort.  It is a span that is not measured in weeks or number of training classes, but in years. Human rules and regulations do not become second nature to a dog overnight.  It requires a commitment that is infused with love, patience, and fortitude.  The pay off for the dedication is freedom.

All of this came flooding to the forefront of my mind as Numa and I walked the Marshall Mesa trail the other day.  Freedom for her comes with a price and with obedience.  I pay the price.  She pays with obedience. As a result, my brown dog wears a green tag that marks her as free to romp off the leash.   I was reminded that I too enjoy freedom, and that freedom came at a price. I didn’t pay it because there is no way in the world that I could. The price was far too high.  But using that freedom to its fullest requires that I, too, learn the value of obedience.  It demands that I am intentional to its cause and devoted to the effort.  Not that I’ve "arrived" in my training, because I know it’s a continuous, ongoing process. But I’m always striving to reach the goal, which is listening for God’s voice and behaving obedient in his sight. 

And who knows...when I do reach the goal...maybe then I’ll receive the equivalent of a green tag. Maybe then he’ll lean down and gently unhook the leash, and then together we’ll romp down the trail of life as I walk, run, see, explore and engage in his Kingdom. 

Or...perhaps he already has and I just don't realize it. 

Whichever way it is, I'm enjoying it.

Keep the faith,