
If you want to change your life, then change your way. -- Augustine
Because Peter puts himself in a position to fail, he also puts himself in a position to grow. -- John Ortberg, If You Want to Walk on Water, You?ve Got to Get Out of the Boat
Becky and I went to see the new Ben Stiller movie Along Came Polly last night. It was pretty funny, worth seeing if you?re inclined to. My favorite scene, though, is when Stiller?s character Reuben is chasing after Polly, who has decided to leave town. Reuben is a risk analyst for a huge corporate insurance company; he has ordered his life around avoiding risk. So it is funny and refreshing to see this paranoid neurotic running with wild abandon down a busy New York sidewalk, leaping over walked dogs, dodging street vendors, and generally being ?unsafe? to stop the love of his life from getting away.
When he finally catches her, he says something that really stuck with me: ?Since I?ve met you, I?ve been humiliated, embarrassed, uncomfortable, and sick to my stomach. And I love you.?
Wow. Now there?s a cinematic change of heart, mind, and attitude worth getting happy over. I immediately thought, What a great way to think about discipleship. (I know, I know ? I?m just one of those weird people who tries to see Jesus everywhere.)
Too often we approach the life of discipleship like risk analysis. Or worse than that, like risk avoidance. But with following Jesus, danger is inherent. He didn?t promise us the complacency too many of us substitute for joy. He didn?t offer us the emotional numbness too many of us substitute for peace. There?s a reason why the biblical theophanies occur so often on mountaintops. But we have to start climbing to get there.
Today I took a look at Matthew?s brief account of Jesus walking on the water:
"Come," he said.
Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, "Lord, save me!"
Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. "You of little faith," he said, "why did you doubt?"
Here?s the deal: faith is action. Faith is getting out of the boat. Faith is taking steps. It?s not faith to sit around like the two nimrods who were Waiting for Godot. We ought to wait upon the Lord, but we ought not prooftext that into an excuse to live lives of stasis.
I love the oft-repeated line about how he of little faith was actually the only one of the twelve with faith enough to step out onto the stormy sea. But I also love the complete and desperate abandon of ?Lord, save me!?
I reckon such a cry is seldom heard from the safe confines of our orderly ?Christian? worlds.
Is your God safe? Is your God the god of ?I?m fine right here??
I want the God of the wilderness, where even if I?m wandering, I?m at least moving. Too many believers opt to stay in Egypt and figure if God has really promised deliverance He?ll just somehow transfer the Promised Land there. But such a belief makes a mockery of real faith. Real faith is following. Real faith spies out the Promised Land, takes it over with a regal fanfare and a swinging of swords. Real faith gets you right up next to the giant. Real faith makes you drop your nets to obey an inexplicable and sudden call to follow. Real faith says, ?I?m embarrassed, humiliated, uncomfortable, and sick to my stomach, but it?s worth it all, because I love You.?
You were made for adventure, friends. Get your butt out of the boat!
Sigh. Go ahead . . . test the water first.
It is, the writer of Hebrews says, a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. He?s dangerous, not safe at all. And yet there is something far more fearful and dangerous than to fall into His hands: to not fall into His hands. But perhaps the most fearful and dangerous thing of all is the sin of Uzziah: to think that our job is, should God stumble, to ensure He falls into our hands.
The safest thing to do with a God like this is not to play it safe with Him. It is to never get so caught up in keeping the traditions or hastening the innovations that we forget to throw ourselves headlong into His brusque and tender embrace. It is to never get so busy protecting God that we fail to take refuge in Him. It is to never become so preoccupied in our Keep God Safe march that we forget to dance before our God with all our might, heedless of the borderland?s rules, tripping the light fantastic all the way into the holy wild.
-- Mark Buchanan, Your God is Too Safe





Jared
The title of this post would make a great book title. Have you considered writing WAH as it should have been? I'm being serious.