The Rock on which it is Built

The Rock on Which It Is Built

How much until you’ve had enough? Winston Churchill is often credited with some form of the following quote, “If you’re going through hell, keep going.” A noble sentiment to be sure from someone who had to lead a beleaguered nation from underground protected bunkers. But one that ignores several clarifying questions, such as persistence toward what? Faith in whom? If you are working solely under your own recognizance perhaps it would be wise to question why you are trudging through hell to begin with. And if you’ve let yourself get that far astray, then the best course of action might just be to turn around. Churchill was operating under the assumption that light exists at the end of the tunnel, that eventually such dark times cease. But Scripture tells us something radically different. That the path we tread will lead us to a place that has no end. And that by walking with Him, even if we venture into the valley of the shadow of death we may do so without fear or trepidation. But, without Him, even the middle of a peaceful sea can feel hellacious.

This week’s episode of The Chosen connects us again with many of the storylines we had been following, most notably that of Simon. Finally forced to contend with his decision to sell out his countrymen to Rome the consequences became very real. When face to face with the opportunity to imprison men he knew to save his own skin, he relented. He knew he could not live with the consequences of betrayal so he resolved to do “what God built [him] to do”, to fish. His family life crumbling against his lies, his friends suitably angry with him, and the iron grip of Roman punishment icily tightening around his neck he set off on a desperate bid to haul in enough fish to square his accounts. Hovering in the background of these events is Matthew. Assured of the numerical impossibility of Simon’s situation he volunteers (or is voluntold) to chart and note Simon’s movements, associations, and behavior. It is his dogged and fastidious nature that leaves him a witness to what happens next.

As this drama unfolds and engulfs Simon’s personal life, there is frantic rumor about an event that happened (offscreen) during a gathering of John the baptizer’s followers near the river. Word is spreading that a “Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” has arrived and has been sighted. The truth of Jesus’ presence is told to Simon but he was too caught up in his troubles to even give it a second’s thought. What an incredibly human response. How often are we too busy, too preoccupied, too bothered to pay attention to God or His commands? How many times are we too focused inward to keep us from looking upward? While Jesus was by the river Simon went out to sea, and while crowds began to gather around the Savior, Simon found himself adrift and alone. Scripture is very clear about our efficacy apart from God. It’s nil. And given the option, too many as Morgen pointed out, wallow in self-pity. Because we don’t see the way out, we assume there isn’t one. All the while, God is waiting and watching. Not unconcerned, just uninvited.

There’s another element at play here. The character Quintus raised a point seen in many TV tyrants and the like, that people want to be ruled. That somehow the iron rod of the dictator is justified by the innate desire for orderliness or leadership in people. After all, hadn’t Matthew and Simon chosen to work with the Romans? The authoritarian has a clumsy view of free will. By limiting the choices that people have, the despot says you may freely choose from the options presented to you, or else. Very heavy on the will, very light on the freedom. The dichotomy is a twisty one, after all, didn’t Jesus say, “I am the way the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 14:6) Sounds like a supremely limited choice as well. As long as you choose to ignore the context. For the Roman oppressor there was only obedience and disobedience, servitude or sedition, nothing in between. But what Jesus offers is equally black and white. “Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters.” (Matthew 12:30) The difference is one of authority. Any history buff should be able to tell you that the authority of Rome is not exactly what it once was. The Roman soldier was propping up, essentially, a lie. When Jesus makes these statements it is one with complete Authority. What He says is true. “If you hold to my teaching, then you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.” (John 8:31-32) What we see here is what happens when we supplant God’s truth with our own. We do innately desire an authority, but when we look to ourselves, we err. There is only One who can fill that role, and one who promises great reward, not only punishment. It’s true that the stakes are presented to us and explained, so that we may make an informed decision. But the example Jesus gives us is one of tender mercies and great understanding. And a patience that exceeds and outlasts any of our doubt.

Simon attempted to force a miracle on his own. He believed God made him to be a fisherman and he attempted to live up to this calling by pulling an all-night fishing marathon on his own to finally make things right with the tax-man, friends and family. It was short-sighted, hot-headed, unrealistic, dramatic, and desperate. One thing it was most assuredly not was humble. God worked on that last point as he toiled through the night without a single catch to his name or efforts. He talked at God through this, demanding to know why he and his people suffered so much if they were indeed chosen. Simon was joined by his brother Andrew and Zebedee, with his two sons James and John. (Band’s really starting to come together now, eh?) And even with this gesture of goodwill and comradeship they all ended the night without a single scaly fish to show for it. At sunrise, after finally resolving to flee the Roman authorities, they pulled to shore to hear a strange man preaching to a small gathering. This was Jesus explaining the parable of the sower and the seeds.

L’homme n’est rien–l'œuvre tout. The man is nothing, the work everything. Simon up till this point could not even see the person closest to him. His wife struggled even to recognize him, and he had betrayed every principle and person he had ever upheld in his life. He could only conceive of his life a certain way. He could only perceive one job that God had made him for. We always get this completely backwards. We assume that God made us a certain way because He needs us to fulfill a certain task. He doesn’t need us, we are in desperate need of Him. And there are tasks He wants to accomplish. We are not the ones to pick and choose what they should be. “He told them, ‘The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into His harvest field.’” (Luke 10:2) There is work to be done and God will make you ready for the task at hand. He will mold, shape, change, and transform you to fit His need. Not the other way round. Even something as foundational as your name is subject to alter at His will. When Jesus instructed these men to go out once again and cast a net, they seemed too tired to be incredulous and dismissive. They were likely too desperate to ignore it. Simon crawled back into that boat a broken man, ready to flee his family, too beaten to argue, and too overwhelmed to disagree. When the fish filled the net the shock was overcome by instinct as the men wrestled the mighty haul on board. But the weariness was gone, not replaced by relief, not replaced by peace, but a zeal. A pure wonder brought on only by witnessing a miracle. Simon leapt out of the boat no longer lost but still a little broken. But he approached the One who he knew could put him back together. He had been alone in a boat, drifting in the sea, bereft of hope and shouting into darkness. Anyone ever felt like that? When face to face with Jesus, Simon didn’t fall to his knees because he was looking to escape something. He fell down in wonder because, after months or even years of hardship struggling just to stay afloat, he finally saw something worth running towards. Jesus forgives us our past, yes. But more important even than that, He provides for us a future.

Jordan Williamson