Hey, Cobblestone,
When I turned fifty I committed to reading the classic
literature I had shunned as a younger man. Rarely have I been disappointed –
it’s amazing what you can learn by getting out of your own century – and often
I’ve found the authors, whether on purpose or accidentally, to be prophetic to
an uncanny degree. Next chance you get, pull your copy of Moby Dick from the shelf and give special attention to the chapters
named “The Quadrant,” “The Candles,” and “The Needle.” Been a while since you
read Herman Melville’s 1851 masterpiece? Here’s the long and short of it…
Ahab is the crazed captain of the whaling ship Pequod, in search of the great white
whale (title character) that chomped off his leg. Starbuck (the man, not the
coffee shop) is his even-keeled first mate. Ahab overshadows the crew with his
own mania, and holds them mesmerized. Starbuck, along with the ship’s next two
officers, are not so affected – caught in the middle trying to keep Pequod afloat and the crew alive. Now
comes the prophetic part…
Contrary to all the best practices, Ahab steers by whatever
feelings are generated by his tormented mind – he goes where he wants Moby Dick
to be. His best instrument for navigation, the quadrant, he cursed – along with
the sun, from which the quadrant draws its readings – because they disagreed
with his wishes. “Curse thee, thou quadrant!” – and stomped it to pieces with
his whale-bone leg. Then, in the teeth of an Indian Ocean typhoon, he refused
to have the ship slowed by lightning rods. Even when lightning struck, and Pequod’s mast heads burned like candles,
Ahab claimed mastery over the power of the heavens. “I know thee, thou clear
spirit, and I now know that thy right worship is defiance… I own thy
speechless, placeless power” – and grounded himself to the ship’s rigging as a
human lightning rod. Surviving the storm, next morning it was found that the
ship’s compass had been damaged by the lightning strike. No problem – Ahab
would make his own.
Taking a sail-maker’s needle for a pointer, Ahab went through
some delirious proceedings to convince the crew he had properly magnetized it,
and placed it on the spindle of the compass. “Men, the thunder turned old
Ahab’s needles; but out of this bit of steel Ahab can make one of his own” –
and ordered the helmsman to steer by it. Though the ship’s prow (nose) plunged
straight toward the early morning sun, the new instrument read west. And still,
Ahab bragged, “Look ye, for yourselves, if Ahab be not lord of the level
loadstone!” It’s important to know, at this point of the story, that home was
to the actual west, but Moby Dick kept spouting and luring far off to the
actual east.
Whether he realized it or not, Herman Melville foretold a
time when many Ahabs would make customized compasses. Where is your hope,
Christian, and from where do you draw your bearings? Is there some point of
navigation that outranks all others? If not, the next Ahab to come along will
have you for a crew member. (Spoiler Alert: Pequod’s
crew didn’t fare so well.) Hard enough to not be Ahab yourself.
Therefore, as you
received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in him, rooted and built up
in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught,
abounding in thanksgiving. See to it that no one takes you captive by philosophy
and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to
the elemental spirits of the world, and not according to
Christ. For in him the whole fullness of deity
dwells bodily, and you have been filled in him, who is the
head of all rule and authority (Colossians 2:6-10).
This is the fourth and final installment in the series of
letters titled “Replacing God.” We’ve been base-camped in Paul’s letter to the
Christians at Colossae in the first century AD, looking at some of the
similarities in our own century. There was a false teaching let loose on the
church there that offered options, other than God, as creator and sustainer of
all things. Though scholars are still looking into the details, the general
effect has become clear enough. The idea of replacing God has had opportunity,
in fits and spurts, since as far back as the eleventh chapter of Genesis, and
each episode has met its end. But the current push, best I can tell, is the
most sustained and concentrated effort yet to put the man of dust on the throne
of heaven.
At some point God only knows, this episode too will meet its
end, and probably in more glorious fashion than any of the others. The idea for
us is to not be caught reading the wrong compass. The best directions come from
Scripture:
If then you have been
raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ
is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that
are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and
your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is
your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory (Colossians 3:1-4).
You’re already anchored there. Pull in along that line.
Among the many fatal errors Ahab made, on the morning of the
new compass he mistook the glare of the sun for the sun itself. In the
lingering haze and intermittent clouds of the previous night’s typhoon, morning
was a hard thing to make out. Even gravity took some concentration, ebbing and
flowing with the ocean’s swells. Looking west at the glare, and wanting to go
east anyway, Ahab saw the sun rising. In our time, the same sort of mistake is
made: human ingenuity is mistaken for sovereignty, and preference rules over
all.
The whole unsaved world steers by Ahab’s compass. When the direction
is unhappy, out comes another sail-maker’s needle. Sorry about their luck? No,
that can’t be the Christian response. The reason we’re here, and not home in
Nantucket, is to rescue precious souls from Ahab’s delusion. In closing his
letter to the Colossian church, Paul wrote:
Be wise in the way
you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. Let
your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so
that you may know how to answer everyone (Colossians 4:5-6).
Once we get clear of being Ahabs ourselves, our job is to be
the voice of reason, not contention. I’ve tried enough wrong methods,
self-propelled, that I’m finally ready to rely on the Holy Spirit’s leading in
every conversation. If those conversations are going to be full of grace, seasoned with salt, could there be any other way?
Truth has an amazing way of bearing itself out, and all the quicker if I don’t
muss it up.
At one point, Starbuck thought long and hard about murdering
Ahab – had a musket in hand, standing at the captain’s cabin door. Seeing the
fault in his method, he backed away. Lacking any better method, he too fell
under Ahab’s spell. If you and I were to collaborate in a rewrite of Moby Dick and provide an alternate
ending, we might have Starbuck presenting the gospel of Jesus Christ to Pip,
the cabin boy, who, having received the good news, conveyed it to doughboy, the
cook – all the way up to the quarter-deck, where Ahab himself stands with his
peg leg steadied in a hole in the planks. Pequod
would come about, steering for home and hearth by way of faithful sun and
stars.
God-replacers don’t come to a good end on their own, but
stand as good a chance as anyone when met by a faithful representative of the
one true, limitless and irreplaceable God.
Grace and Peace (and truth to steer by),
John
No comments:
Post a Comment