Not long ago, on a chartered sailing trip with some friends, we stood watching the sunset on the deck, gentle wind blowing, and the rhythmic sound of water hitting the bow. That’s when my friend Tony said, ‘This is absolute paradise, life doesn’t get any better than this. I’m going to buy a boat.’ And sure enough, within a few years, Tony had a boat.
When I visited him last he invited me down to the dock to see it. When I arrived Tony was busy scrubbing the deck. While we talked, he also coiled rope, buffed the brass, then swept the galley. In fact, soon Tony had me working. And as the afternoon progressed, I finally asked him, ‘It must be so great having this boat - experiencing the wide open water, the motion of the waves, the peace, and solitude - when are we going to take the boat out?’ ‘What?’ he said, somewhat preoccupied with the task at hand, ‘I don’t have any time to think about that, I haven’t taken this boat out for 2 years.’
In Sunday’s Gospel Jesus is confronted with the religious elite whose pious faith has turned them into dock-scrubbing workaholics who have lost sight of the possibilities that their faith might otherwise bring. As they begin to follow Jesus, it becomes apparent they have lost their foresight and imagination - and cannot manage to ask God’s son about anything more substantial than whether or not his disciples wash their hands before dinner. Their religion is regimen, their spiritual practices are little more than going through the motions.
This interaction carries a special lesson for all of us who attend churches with a fair amount of ritual. We are to take care that our religious practices don’t turn into busywork. We must be intentional that our traditions and liturgies point us to deeper interaction with God - enabling us to ask real questions, ‘What are you up to in my life? How are you present? How are you guiding?’
Einstein famously said that imagination is better than knowledge. I think he meant that our preoccupation with things we can understand must never trump the amazing ability we have to imagine the things we can't.
How are we falling prey to this today? Are we too busy with the daily struggle to imagine that God’s word of provision and sustenance could possibly win the day? Are we so preoccupied with a routine that our hope is drastically limited? How might we step back and imagine that God really does care, really will provide for all of our needs, and wants to bless us more than we can imagine?
Reading
The Last Stand - Nathaniel Philbrick
The Good of Affluence - John Schneider
Becoming a Blessed Church - N. Graham Standish
