In each of our two winters here, and surely in many winters before, the Donau River has frozen. I've always been impressed by this--moving water freezing over. I remember it happening to the mighty Columbia a few times when I was a kid, and I just couldn’t reconcile the strange juxtaposition of seeing people walking on something I’d always known as distinctly liquid. Maybe the way I felt then was similar to how the apostles felt when they saw Christ walking on the water?Anyway, my childlike amazement with this phenomenon was fully renewed this year. Once the Donau was “officially” declared frozen, droves of people flocked to the river in celebration, each donning ice skates and doing his best to pirouette across the ice. I marvel at this, at the faith folks put in the stability of the ice, when just a few feet beneath the surface the water is still running fast and cold.
My amazement with this peaked a few weeks ago while I was riding the U-1 (subway) line, which takes you across the Donau canal. When the train approached the canal, I was shocked to see that there were literally HUNDREDS of people ice skating on the river’s glazed surface. Some of the younger folks were playing an impromptu game of ice hockey; an elderly couple was gliding along slowly, holding hands; families were out with their kids, showing them how to keep their balance on the ice; others were even out there in regular shoes, scrambling to keep their footing while running and sliding across the smooth surface. Folks of all ages and sizes were out there amidst the bitter wind and biting cold, each fully trusting that the river would support their weight and activities, along with the weight and activities of everyone else. It was pretty incredible to see.
As I watched all this from the safety of the train, a myriad of thoughts started to run through my mind: isn’t there some serious risk involved in this? What if the temperature has warmed enough over the last few days that the ice is no longer stable? Who “decides” that the ice is ready to withstand thousands of pounds of weight? Isn’t there certain spots on the river that aren’t as sturdy as others—has this been considered? Are there medical personnel standing by in case someone falls in? There’s probably no way all these people, especially the young ones, know how to swim if the ice were to give way…
Still, despite my reservations, there were all the people—each putting his or her full confidence and faith in the ice’s ability to support the weight.
As I watched all this, I couldn’t help but think how following Christ is a similar step of faith. To become a follower of Christ, we’re asked to cast aside everything else and put our faith in him. Sometimes this is easy to do; we can see the thick layer of ice on top of the water, can see hundreds of other people out skating, and have veritable certainty that the ice is safe for us to rely on. Other times, however, that tangible evidence isn’t there; sometimes we can see the water flowing just under the surface of the ice, there’s no one else out there, and we’re faced with the difficult decision on our own. Do we step out on the ice in faith, or hang out on the shore, waiting for some of that tangible evidence of safety?
Unfortunately, I can look back at my life and identify MANY times where I’ve elected to wait on the shore’s edge. I wonder how much more good could have come about if I had been bolder, or if I had simply trusted and been willing to take a risk. I wonder how things would have been had I made a decision to really follow Christ at a younger age. I wonder how many chances to share the story of Christ I have passed up because I was afraid, or because the context wasn’t right. I wonder how many people who are a part of my life now have a hard time understanding what it is we’re doing here because I did a poor job of showing Christ’s love to them back in the U.S.
The good news is, for all of us, that the opportunity to come to faith in Christ is available every day! Whether you already believe or not, every day presents another opportunity to put your faith in Christ and choose to trust him. Again, I realize this isn’t easy to do. Trusting Christ means relinquishing control of your life, and that’s a difficult thing to do sometimes. I’ve learned, however, that it’s the thing that matters most. As D.L. Moody put it, “Trust in yourself and you are doomed to disappointment…trust in money and you may have it taken from you…but trust in God, and you are never to be confounded in time or eternity.”
Let’s trust, and step out on the ice together in faith.
2 comments:
Wow--great analogy! Grampa would be proud--as I am, of course.
And this is why you need to speak in chapel sometime. And don't get a big head or anything, you're still a turd, and your gargantuan melon is big enough as it is.
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