In the last few years, I’ve sensed a rise in cautionary words for the Church. A word of caution is not always warm and fuzzy, especially when it disrupts the status quo of our assumptions. When our lives seem stable and prospering, we don’t want to think of any kind of social or spiritual storm of disorder that could arrive and sink our present understanding of reality.
I recently watched a few videos of pleasure boats attempting to navigate a treacherous harbor entrance along the east coast of Florida. After I viewed the videos, I concluded the boats that were the most seaworthy and able to press through the waves with confidence had sufficient freeboard built into the design of their hull. Freeboard is the distance between the waterline and the deck of a vessel. If the original design is lacking or when a vessel is overloaded reducing its available freeboard, the ship’s ability to navigate is put in jeopardy. In still water the amount of available freeboard is not much of a concern. It is life-threatening when a storm arrives.
The phrase “Don’t rock the boat” has been interpreted as meaning we shouldn’t say or do anything that could upset a stable situation, especially when at the dock in a quiet harbor of assumption. Like it was in the days of Noah, “People were eating and drinking, marrying, and giving in marriage, up to the day Noah entered the ark; and they knew nothing about what would happen until the flood came and took them all away. That is how it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. (Matthew 24: 38-39).
Paul spoke similar words, “When people are saying, ‘Everything is peaceful and secure’, then disaster will fall on them as suddenly as a pregnant woman’s labor pains begin. And there will be no escape” (I Thessalonians 5:3). Those words applied to the hearer’s on the day the Lord first spoke and to those in 70 AD when Jerusalem was attacked and for those somewhere in the future when some of the events noted in Matthew 24 will need a future context in which to unfold.
Truth has a way of offending the unaware, especially the kind of truth that rocks the boat of false stability created by those who have told us what to think and what to ignore as we float along in a state of denial. Truth in any form will challenge the illusion of forever still waters.
When Paul was a passenger on a sailing vessel as a prisoner sailing under guard toward Rome, a violent storm came. Paul addressed the crew, “Men,” he said, “I believe there is trouble ahead if we go on—shipwreck, loss of cargo, and danger to our lives as well” (Acts 27:10). Paul’s warning was not heeded, and the ship was put in a place of jeopardy of sinking. “As gale-force winds continued to batter the ship, the crew began throwing the cargo overboard. The following day they even took some of the ship’s gear and threw it overboard. (vs. 18-19).
In placid harbors, we can load down our lives with the weight of what our culture tells us we need or should believe. We tend to ignore the jeopardy of what we take on board as cargo in times of peace and quiet. In the process of that overloading, we begin to lose inch-after-inch of available emotional and spiritual freeboard placing us in a compromised position unable to sail safely should a sudden and unexpected storm appear.
This is a time to consider the warnings of what may come and begin to offload the things that will weigh down the vessel of our lives and reduce the freeboard of our faith. Storms are on the horizon. Prepare your vessel. Properly loaded, it can endure more than we can imagine if we are not overloaded.
Thank you. A lot of wisdom in this post to ponder. I heard a Christian leader say recently that we dont really want to know the truth. Another pondering statement.