by Kara Conniff
In the Bible, Jesus uses stories and parables to get his point across. One example is the Parable of the Sower, which uses seeds and ground conditions to describe the Christian life. During Jesus’s time this would’ve been a great metaphor for people to understand. They lived in an agrarian society and their lives acutely depended upon such things as soil condition.
Today we live in a modern world full of grocery stores and fast food. And even though I painstakingly planted a garden with tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, and corn, for fun, when the deer decimated my crop, the consequences were merely a bummer.
One thing has remained the same throughout history–people love to tell stories. It’s how we communicate and relate to one another. When we’re quiet enough, slow enough, and attentive enough, God wants to tell us stories still today. I don’t hear God out loud, but sometimes the idea is so clear that he might as well be speaking aloud. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, I know I need to listen.
My brain is at its best in the summer. All of the competing voices (Homework finished? Laundry ready? Lunch packed? Emails caught up?) are quieted and I can just be. I hear God more in the summer, but it’s not because he speaks to me more during this season, but because I’m able to listen better.
We were at the backyard pool, the kids and I, and I had high hopes of reading a book. In my dream world, the kids are splashing in the pool, laughing, entertaining themselves, and I’m sitting on the deck with a book in one hand and a cranberry lime seltzer water in the other. If I get too hot, I’ll dip my feet in, maybe wade around a little, and then I’ll go back to my book. That’s my dream world.
In the real world, the kids are in the pool, and every five seconds someone says, “Mom, I thought you were going to swim with us.” I explain that I am swimming. I got in to cool off and now I’m going to read and they should just have fun. But they can’t do it. They don’t understand why I’m not swimming. So, I’ll put my book down and stick my toes in to test the water. It’s not too cold. It feels pretty nice, but the book is calling me. I kind of want to just sit in my beach chair and read.
“Mom, you said you’d get in.” Okay, I’ll get in. I walk over to the stairs and sit down. The water is up to my waist. It feels nice. I’m in the pool. Maybe I could just bring my book over here and read in the water.
“Mom, you’re not really in. Please get in the pool.” Okay, I’ll get in the pool, but I’m not getting my hair wet. I stand up and jump around the pool with the water skimming my upper arms. My hair is piled high on my head and I’m shooing everyone away that dares come too close to splash me. I’m in, but I’m not getting my hair wet.
“Mom, let’s play Marco Polo. Mom, you can’t swim if you don’t get your hair wet. Wanna race to the other side? Mom, you have to get your hair wet if you’re going to swim. You’re not really swimming until you go under water. Do it, Mom, on the count of three. Go under. Go all in.”
This day there was no mistaking that God was trying to get my attention and he used swimming as a metaphor for what it means to be a Christian, to actually walk (or swim) with Jesus.
The person who dips her toes in the water is the person who is interested in faith. She believes there’s a God, and she’s interested to know more, but she’s happy being on the outside. She likes living her life the way she wants and knowing/hoping there’s a God out there is enough.
The person who wades around is the Sunday Christian. The Easter and Christmas Christian. This person believes in God. She believes that Jesus was born and died for her sins. She has the head knowledge and maybe even a set of morals that she loosely follows so she doesn’t go to hell, but she’s just wading around in the shallow end of Christianity. It’s a small, compartmentalized part of her life. She feels refreshed when she’s embracing this part of her life, but most of the time, she’s living life without thinking about God.
The person who swims, but doesn’t want to get her hair wet, is a lot of us. We are in the pool with Jesus. We are actively swimming our race, so to speak, but we still haven’t fully committed. There are pieces of us that we don’t want to give up. We are still striving to maintain control and we want things how we want them. We know what’s best to do with our finances. We know how much social media is a good amount. We know that Jesus loves our kids more than we do, but we can’t stop trying to control their outcomes. We have ideas about how everything should be.
However, Jesus wants nothing less than our full selves. In Mark chapter 10, verses 17-27, Jesus tells the story of the rich young ruler. The rich young ruler wants to follow Jesus. He believes in Jesus and believes that he knows best. He assures Jesus that he keeps all of the commands and is living a Christian life. Jesus basically says, that’s great, but that’s not everything. He tells him to sell his possessions and give them to the poor and then come follow him. When faced with giving up his worldly possessions, the young ruler walks away sad. He can’t do it. He wants what Jesus has to offer, but he isn’t willing to offer up his whole life in return. He is in the pool. He wants to swim with Jesus, but he doesn’t want to get his hair wet.
There is one more person–the all-in swimmer. This person is fully submerged and holding nothing back. Want to play marco-polo? He’s in. Want to race to the other side? Let’s go. Splash him with everything you’ve got. It doesn’t phase him. He is in the water. This is what Jesus calls us to. This is his invitation. Come on in, the water’s fine. I’m right here. We’ll swim together. I’ll teach you everything I know.
This person is Simon (Peter). Andrew. James. John. In Matthew chapter 4, verses 19-22, Jesus comes upon these men fishing. He tells them to drop their nets and follow him. And they do it! They drop their nets. They leave their father. They follow Jesus. They jump in the deep end, get their hair wet, and follow Jesus wherever he tells them to go.
One of my favorite movies of all time is Elf. It is hilarious thanks to Will Ferrell and also sweet and touching when you look at how the family relationships develop and deepen throughout the movie. At the end of the movie, people have gathered in Central Park after a Santa spotting. Santa’s sleigh can’t get off the ground because it runs on Christmas Spirit and the tank is too low. Michael gets the crowd to start singing Christmas Carols. As everyone sings, Santa’s Christmas Spirit meter begins to fill up–it’s working, but it’s not enough. Michael looks up at his dad who is just mouthing the words, but not really singing. He says, “Dad, you’re not really singing.” The dad responds that he is singing, but Michael says, “No, you’re just moving your mouth.” The dad starts belting out the Christmas Carol and the Christmas Spirit meter skyrockets and Santa’s sleigh is ready to fly.
Kids always know. I think that’s why Jesus tells us to be like the little children. “And he said, ‘Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like the little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3). They know if your heart isn’t in something. They know if you’re just going through the motions, half-listening, half-participating. God knows this too. He wants our full attention and full participation. He wants us to be all in. He wants us to swim in the deep end. He wants us to get our hair wet. He wants all of us.
Are you ready to leave the things of this world and follow Jesus wherever he leads? If you’re not ready, what is holding you back? Ask yourself why you don’t want to get your hair wet? What is more important to you than swimming after Jesus with your whole self? Give those things to Jesus and then cannon ball! Come on in. The water’s more than fine!
Kara Conniff 