Therefore, if anyone is
in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! (II
Corinthians 5:17)
Do not conform to the pattern of this world,
but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be
able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing
and perfect will. (Romans 12:2)
It’s
a new year, which is a perfect time to remind ourselves that we are new
creations. In Screwtape Letters, C. S. Lewis’s character described people
as amphibians, meant to live in both the physical and the spiritual realms. It
was partly based on this idea that I wrote something that might be called a
parable.
Consider that your life is a boat tied to a dock. It’s filled with all sorts of treasures and stuff. You enjoy touring about in the bay a bit, but the idea of going out into the great ocean is a little daunting. There are monsters out there, or so you’ve heard.
One day, Jesus convinces you to venture out. You sail out far enough that you can only barely see the shore. You doze off in the warm sunshine, only to awaken as raindrops pelt you. Before you can act, a horrible squall engulfs you. Water pours down, waves pour in. You try to make a run for shore, but the wind and waves are against you. You start the pumps of prayer and grab a bucket.
Despite your best efforts, it becomes clear that the boat is sinking. Like the disciples, you cry out, “Jesus, don’t you care that we are perishing?” You grab something from your stuff and throw it overboard. It doesn’t matter so much, and you know you have to lighten the load or sink. Several more things follow. Then you see Jesus pick up something that’s not stuff. It’s treasure. He throws it overboard, then leans and pulls one of the pieces of stuff back aboard.
As the weather rages, your struggle continues. You patch holes you find in the boat. You bail. You throw stuff overboard. Jesus throws treasure overboard and fishes other stuff out of the sea. He smiles at you as He bails water into the boat. What is He doing?
Then, in a flash of lightning, you see something sinuous in the sky. In the next flash, you recognize it, it’s a dragon! It wings past barely over the mast and gazes at you through the gloom before flying off. You bail faster and even throw a couple pieces of treasure overboard.
Before long, you hear a long, low note as if someone were playing a giant bass. The note changes, you recognize the music and your eyes scan the water, looking for the giant dorsal fin you’re sure is headed your way. Instead, you see the dragon soaring past, speakers strapped to his back. He circles down, grasps the mast with his talons and breaks it off, dropping it into the sea. You cry, “Jesus, Lord, help me!” He smiles and pours another bucket of water into your hold. The dragon returns and breaths fire. You begin throwing the water from the boat onto the flames, but it becomes clear, you cannot do enough, and you face the decision: sink or swim. Casting one more look across the water for fins, you dive in and flounder in the direction you hope is shore. Your boat sinks beneath the waves and it quickly becomes clear that there is no hope of reaching shore, even if you hold on to some of the stuff that was thrown overboard. After hours, you are simply too tired and too weak to stay afloat, and you sink beneath the waves.
Consider that your life is a boat tied to a dock. It’s filled with all sorts of treasures and stuff. You enjoy touring about in the bay a bit, but the idea of going out into the great ocean is a little daunting. There are monsters out there, or so you’ve heard.
One day, Jesus convinces you to venture out. You sail out far enough that you can only barely see the shore. You doze off in the warm sunshine, only to awaken as raindrops pelt you. Before you can act, a horrible squall engulfs you. Water pours down, waves pour in. You try to make a run for shore, but the wind and waves are against you. You start the pumps of prayer and grab a bucket.
Despite your best efforts, it becomes clear that the boat is sinking. Like the disciples, you cry out, “Jesus, don’t you care that we are perishing?” You grab something from your stuff and throw it overboard. It doesn’t matter so much, and you know you have to lighten the load or sink. Several more things follow. Then you see Jesus pick up something that’s not stuff. It’s treasure. He throws it overboard, then leans and pulls one of the pieces of stuff back aboard.
As the weather rages, your struggle continues. You patch holes you find in the boat. You bail. You throw stuff overboard. Jesus throws treasure overboard and fishes other stuff out of the sea. He smiles at you as He bails water into the boat. What is He doing?
Then, in a flash of lightning, you see something sinuous in the sky. In the next flash, you recognize it, it’s a dragon! It wings past barely over the mast and gazes at you through the gloom before flying off. You bail faster and even throw a couple pieces of treasure overboard.
Before long, you hear a long, low note as if someone were playing a giant bass. The note changes, you recognize the music and your eyes scan the water, looking for the giant dorsal fin you’re sure is headed your way. Instead, you see the dragon soaring past, speakers strapped to his back. He circles down, grasps the mast with his talons and breaks it off, dropping it into the sea. You cry, “Jesus, Lord, help me!” He smiles and pours another bucket of water into your hold. The dragon returns and breaths fire. You begin throwing the water from the boat onto the flames, but it becomes clear, you cannot do enough, and you face the decision: sink or swim. Casting one more look across the water for fins, you dive in and flounder in the direction you hope is shore. Your boat sinks beneath the waves and it quickly becomes clear that there is no hope of reaching shore, even if you hold on to some of the stuff that was thrown overboard. After hours, you are simply too tired and too weak to stay afloat, and you sink beneath the waves.
You
find Jesus beside you, and you hope that perhaps, at least, He has come to rescue
you. But as He takes hold of your hand, he pulls you deeper, not to the
surface. Your chest burns, your ears pound, your heart breaks. How could Jesus
do this? There is no alternative, you breath in the water.
But death does not come. You cough, you inhale again reflexively, but you’re not dead. You’re still in the water, and there are no streets of gold or people on clouds playing harps. A shadow moves beneath you and you gasp, thinking that at last, the jaws of a Great White are going to close over your flesh. But wait…the shadow is too straight and narrow to be a shark. Perpendicular beneath it is a larger shape that looks more like a shark. You recognize it, it’s your boat. The mast is back in place, and there are what look like shiny patches here and there, but, yes, it’s your boat. You realize also that it’s not so bad under the sea. It doesn’t hurt quite as much to breath the water as you expected.
You are surprised when Jesus pulls you suddenly upward. You break the surface and gasp. The waves have calmed. In the distance, the sun breaks through the clouds. Your boat emerges from the depths and Jesus helps you climb aboard. Some of the shiny patches you saw, you recognize. They are piece of your treasure, now use to patch holes in your hull. “Lord Jesus, the water. It was so much better than I thought. Let’s go back.”
“Another time,” He says. “For now, you are not yet strong enough to be a creature of the sea. You will gain strength. Sometimes it will be difficult, others it will be easier.” As you set things to rights, you notice that your hands look different. The skin looks looser where your fingers connect to your hands. It’s tiny, no more than a quarter of an inch, but it looks almost like webbing.
You have begun to adapt to an environment for which you were created – the waters known as the Holy Spirit.
But death does not come. You cough, you inhale again reflexively, but you’re not dead. You’re still in the water, and there are no streets of gold or people on clouds playing harps. A shadow moves beneath you and you gasp, thinking that at last, the jaws of a Great White are going to close over your flesh. But wait…the shadow is too straight and narrow to be a shark. Perpendicular beneath it is a larger shape that looks more like a shark. You recognize it, it’s your boat. The mast is back in place, and there are what look like shiny patches here and there, but, yes, it’s your boat. You realize also that it’s not so bad under the sea. It doesn’t hurt quite as much to breath the water as you expected.
You are surprised when Jesus pulls you suddenly upward. You break the surface and gasp. The waves have calmed. In the distance, the sun breaks through the clouds. Your boat emerges from the depths and Jesus helps you climb aboard. Some of the shiny patches you saw, you recognize. They are piece of your treasure, now use to patch holes in your hull. “Lord Jesus, the water. It was so much better than I thought. Let’s go back.”
“Another time,” He says. “For now, you are not yet strong enough to be a creature of the sea. You will gain strength. Sometimes it will be difficult, others it will be easier.” As you set things to rights, you notice that your hands look different. The skin looks looser where your fingers connect to your hands. It’s tiny, no more than a quarter of an inch, but it looks almost like webbing.
You have begun to adapt to an environment for which you were created – the waters known as the Holy Spirit.
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