The beach is not my favorite place to vacation. Sitting in the hot sun with sweat dripping in my eyes and sand in my shorts is not my idea of a great time. On our first day out, Zack sprayed me with sunscreen, but it apparently didn't go on smoothly. (I'm sure spray-on sunscreen was a great idea on paper; but in the real world of windy beaches, it doesn't seem so bright.) Now I have a funny-looking sunburn.
But Judy loves the beach, my kids love it, and Judy's family goes every year. So I have learned to enjoy it with them. And to be honest, when the kids were younger I really did enjoy playing in the sand and waves. (The waves are still fun. Sand in my shorts—not so much.)
As a younger man, I would have preferred to go places and do things. Now I enjoy a quiet, beautiful setting to relax, read, and think. So I prefer to retreat to the mountains. And there is no better place than the mountains to pray.
In recent years, Judy has graciously returned with me several times to the mountains above Gatlinburg for a time of rest and renewal. It seemed only fair that this time I would go with her to the beach. So after a week at St. Simon's Island with her family and our grown kids, Judy and I have now moved to Myrtle Beach for a quiet week to ourselves. It's not as secluded as the mountains; but we are enjoying time to ourselves, time to rest and reflect, and time together with God.
There are aspects of the beach that I do not find helpful. It's overcrowded this time of year. Too many people and umbrellas block my view of the ocean. The scantily clad sun-worshipers frequently strolling past are an uncomfortable distraction. And then there's the distraction of those scantily clad sun-worshipers who make you silently wonder, "What in the world did they see when they looked in the mirror and thought that was a good choice in beach attire!"
But there are other aspects of the beach that are a blessing, much as are the mountains. The vast expanse of the ocean…the relentless surge of the tides…the quiet roar of the waves drowning out almost all other noise…the mysteries of the deeps hidden beneath the white-capped waters—these all give testimony to the Great Creator.
I'm reminded of the biting words of God in response to the complaints of Job:
Where were you when I laid the earths' foundation?
Tell me if you understand.
Who marked off its dimensions?
Surely you know!
Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from the womb…
when I said, "This far you may come and no farther;
here is where your proud waves halt"?
Have you journeyed to the springs of the sea or walked in the recesses of the deep?
Have you comprehended the vast expanses of the earth?
Tell me, if you know all this!
My father used to tell me that the value of an education is not in what you know, but in what you know that you don't know. I have to admit, I'm getting quite an education this trip. Our visits to the relatively obscure Fort Frederica from the Colonial era and to Fort Jackson from the Civil War, to the oldest African-American church built by slaves in Savannah, and to the exclusive winter club on Jekyll Island for the captains of the Industrial Revolution taught me lessons in American history that I was embarrassed I had never heard. I'm reading a very challenging book (The Tangible Kingdom) that is reminding me how little we church leaders really know about the church and God's mission in this world. My son and I tried to swim from the sand bar to the shore against the outgoing tide and I discovered how uninformed I was about my physical condition. And looking out at the ocean, I shudder at how pathetic our confidence must seem to the One who made the seas and all that is in them.
I wore a T-shirt to the beach today that I bought last year in Greece. On the front is a quotation from Socrates: hen oida hoti ouden oida. It translates roughly as:
"I only know one thing, that I don't know anything."
11 comments:
I ENJOYED YOUR BLOG ABOUT THE BEACH AND THE MOUNTAINS. THE QUOTE FROM JOB IS RIGHT ON. KEEP THE BLOGS COMING!
GRACE AND PEACE,
FRANK LEGGETT, JR
Thanks, Frank.
I was glad to read that you weren't in Destin since I would have wanted to hear from you guys. Enjoyed your post very much. I don't get to visit our beaches as often as I would like but when I do that awesome expanse of sky and water always speaks of God to me. I'm so glad that passage in Job is there. I'm thinking it should be daily required reading.
Hi, Lori. Sorry we aren't in Destin. We'd love to see you and Hal. And the beach is better there too!
Have a good time, Rob.
:-)
Casey
I started off reading The Tangible Kingdom, thinking it was challenging and revolutionary, but I didn't end up that way. I've probably been off the reservation too long to think that.
Rob
I used to think Job was a book on patience. Now I think it is a story of repentance. Job thought he was righteous and so did his support group, until God gave him a 4 chapter tongue lashing 38 thru 41. Then in 42:5-6
"I have heard you by the hearing of the ear; but now my eye sees You; Therefore I retract, and I repent in dust and ashes."
What do you suppose he was repenting of. I think it was his pride, arrogance and self righteousness.
Help me here.
Ted Hughes
Dianoia (if I say your name, is that like revealing Batman's secret identity?), when revolutionaries read someone else's revolutionary work, it's probably not going to seem so revolutionary. When I finish the book, we need to get on the phone and talk about it. So far, I'm finding it in the spirit of Treasures in Clay Jars, but more direct and to the point.
Rob
Ted,
I think Job's "patience" is more about how he endured his suffering without abandoning his faith. But he did not endure in a quiet, sweet patient spirit. He complained loudly to God that he wasn't being treated justly and questions God's fairness, even saying he'd like to sue God, but has no court to go to.
I think his repentance has to do with his questioning of God, and that could well involve sins such as pride and arrogance as you mention. It is significant that God never answers Job's complaints, or explains to him why any of his suffering was allowed to happen. God's only answer is, "Who do you think you are to question God?" I think the book is not really about Job's story. It's about human beings futile efforts to explain suffering with simplistic answers.
Just my take on it.
Rob
Rob,
Job's story does not comfort me the way it used to. God seems to act maliciously against his best servant, counting the lives as Job's children (and Job's sacrifices on their behalf) as nothing, in order to prove some sort of cosmic point to the devil, and ostensibly (I guess) to give us some sort of lesson about patience and trust. And when questioned about it, he essentially says, "None of your business. I know what I'm doing and I do what I want. It's your job to accept it."
I wonder if Job would have repented if he had known about the heavenly conversations recorded in chapters 1 and 2? It's hard to regard with any positive feelings someone who turns loose a wicked being to slaughter your children.
And then, at the end of the book, the author acts as if all is fine now since God compensated Job with double the herds, some replacement children, and the three most beautiful daughters in the land.
What is comforting about all of this? It disturbs me severely to know that my prayers on my children's behalf could be so lowly regarded as were those of Job, whose was after all God's most favored servant in his time.
Casey
Casey,
Sorry for the delay getting back to this. I share some of your discomfort with Job's story. Personally, I think the malice was on Satan's part, not God's. But it is still troubling that God allowed it. On the other hand, to some extent I think what happened to Job is just part and parcel of the human experience. It is a modern Western value, I think, that regards all suffering as a terrible tragedy from which we deserve to be delivered by a just God.
My take on the book as a whole is that it is not intended as an historical account, but is a theological exploration of the problem of suffering and faith from a human point of view. It is a part of the Wisdom tradition and, like Ecclesiastes, serves as a balancing or alternative perspective to what could be seen as the unrealistically optimistic perspective of the Proverbs. In the other words, the Proverbs are generally true, but don't tell the whole story. The cynicism of Ecclesiastes and the diatribes of Job also speak truth, but from a different perspective.
I don't think the ending of the Job story makes up for what happened to Job, but I don't know that it was meant to. I think it is a way of saying that in the end God did not abandon Job and he was blessed for his faith through tragedy. But I doubt Job was ever fully at peace with why he lost his children.
Just a few thoughts.
Rob
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