The river metaphor showed up in a sermon yesterday. I have just about had it with the whole water/rain/ocean/river as a metaphor of the Christian life. Too much trite and not enough substance. All metaphors fail when taken beyond the mildest of applications. And to make the metaphor work, most will dumb down the message instead of changing or eliminating the metaphor. Not this time.
The congregation had just been updated on the status of several members of the church who had been in the
Jasper, GA bus crash. Lives changed, fears realized, courage tested. Could it have all been avoided? Probably. At what cost?
The preacher spoke of a previous white water rafting trip, and the willingness to risk. I leaned a little forward in my seat. The price of admission he called it. Having traveled a long distance to see mild white water rapids, they found torrential class 5 rapids far beyond their expectations. To go or not to go? As they practiced in the shallow eddies, with the cool water, the hot sun, and gentle currents, it was easy to think that maybe it would be better to stay in the shallows, get a good tan. Why take the risk? Everyone was afraid. Yet they found their courage, conquered their fear, and took the trip. In the end, it was worth the price of admission. But if they hadn’t gone? No risk. No reward. Total loss. Wasted trip.
The question posed by the preacher was “Are you willing to get into the rapids?” Ironically, it is noted humanist Henry David
Thoreau who answers: “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.” Christians ought not be men of quiet desperation. We are not “most men.” We have the hope that lies within. A promise written in blood upon a cross. A promise proven by an empty grave. A surety granted in the present indwelling of the Holy Spirit. As Christians, our lives are already forfeit to His Glory. So you might as well conquer your own fear and jump in.
The youth on this trip had probably figured that the bus ride home carried the least risk. Yet it was that part of the journey that manifest very real danger. The eddy currents carry their own deceptive risks. To avoid those risks, the students would have had to stay home and avoid the “river” altogether. But isolation is no way to live a life. No way to share your life with others. No way to lead others to the Life we have in Christ.
We are not long for this world. A few years compared to eternity. Our days are numbered as sure at the hairs upon our head. Like the group Kansas says: “They slip away, and all your money won’t another minute buy.” Or your fear. Or your worry.
At the risk of suffering the penalty for mixed metaphors: If we truly believe that this life is preparatory for the next; then it’s time we showed up for practice. Practice hard. Take bigger risks. Tell better stories.