Dynamite

Dynamite

Then they arrived at a place called Gethsemane, and Jesus said to the disciples, “Sit down here while I pray.” He took with him Peter, James and John, and began to be horror-stricken and desperately depressed. “My heart is nearly breaking,” he told them. “Stay here and keep watch for me.” Then he walked forward a little way and flung himself on the ground, praying that, if it were possible, he might not have to face the ordeal. “Dear Father,” he said, “all things are possible to you. Please — let me not have to drink this cup! Yet it is not what I want but what you want.”

Then he came and found them fast asleep. He spoke to Peter, “Are you asleep, Simon? Couldn’t you manage to watch for a single hour? Watch and pray, all of you, that you may not have to face temptation. Your spirit is willing, but human nature is weak.” (Mark 14:32-38)

In 1066, one of history’s most decisive battles was fought. William, Duke of Normandy, had the audacity to dare to invade England. But he confidently approached his formidable opponent with a secret weapon, an invention that would give his army an edge: the stirrup. The English, on foot – William reasoned – would be easily conquered by the Normans, standing secure on their horses and in their stirrups. And because they had a way to stand in the battle, they were victorious.

On the battleground of temptation, Christians have been assured the victory. We have a way to stand in the battle. Jesus. Lord of Heaven. Defeater of death. He’s our secret weapon. But it doesn’t come easily, and it’s seldom without temptation. It reminds me of a story I heard about a Fish & Game warden who got a quick lesson on fishing.

It seems the warden noticed that one particular guy named Sam consistently caught more fish than anyone else. Whereas the other guys would only catch three or four a day, Sam would come in off the lake with a boat full. Stringer after stringer were loaded with freshly caught trout.

Curious, the warden asked Sam his secret. So, the successful fisherman invited the warden to accompany him and observe. The next morning the two met at the dock and took off in Sam’s boat. When they got to the middle of the lake, they stopped the boat and the warden sat back to watch the old pro.

Sam’s approach was simple: he took out a stick of dynamite, lit it, and threw it in the air. The explosion rocked the lake with such force that fish, either killed or knocked unconscious by the concussion, immediately began to surface. And with that, Sam took out a net and started scooping them up.

Well, you can imagine the reaction of the Fish & Game warden. When he recovered from the shock of it all, he began yelling at Sam. “You can’t do that! I’ll put you in jail, man, and you’ll be paying every fine there is in the book!” Sam, meanwhile, set his net down and calmly took out another stick of dynamite. This time, he lit it and tossed it into the lap of the warden and said, “Well? Are you just going to sit there all day complaining, or are you going to fish?”

The poor warden was left with a fast decision to make. He was yanked, in a second, from an observer to a participant. A dynamite of a choice had to be made, and made quickly.

Life’s like that sometimes. It seems that very few days go by without our coming face-to-face with an uninvited, unanticipated yet unavoidable decision. Like a crashing avalanche of snow, these decisions roar down on us without warning. They disorient and bewilder us. They’re quick, immediate and sudden. There’s no council, no study and no time for advice. Just BAM! All of a sudden we’re hurled into the air of uncertainty, and only instinct will determine if we land on our feet.

Look at the three apostles in the garden. Sound asleep. Weary from a full meal and a full week. Their eyelids heavy, they’re awakened by Jesus only to tumble back into dreamland. The last time, however, they’re awakened by Jesus along with the sound of clanging swords, bright torches and loud voices.

“There he is!” “Let’s get him!” A shout. A kiss. A shuffling of feet. A slight skirmish. All of a sudden it’s decision time. No time to huddle. No time to pray. No time to mediate or consult friends. A decision needs to be made. And Peter makes his. Out comes the sword. Off goes the ear. Jesus rebukes him. And now what? Mark, who apparently was a young eyewitness, wrote these words: “Then everyone deserted him and fled.” (Mark 14:50) That’s a nice way of saying they ran like scaredy cats. The only thing that was likely moving faster than their feet was their pulse rate. All those words of loyalty and commitment were left behind in a cloud of dust.

But before we’re too hard on these guys, let’s take a look at ourselves. Maybe you’ve been in the garden of decision a few times yourself. Has your loyalty ever been challenged? Have you ever passed by this trap door of the devil? For the teenager it could be a joint or a molly. For the businessperson it could be an offer to make a little cash “under the table.” For the student it could be an opportunity to improve his grade by looking at his friend’s quiz. One minute we’re in a calm boat on a lake talking about fishing, and the next we have a stick of dynamite in our laps ready to blow.

More often than not, the end result is catastrophe. Because rather than calmly defusing the bomb, we let it explode. We find ourselves doing the very thing we despise. The child in us lunges forward – uncontrolled and unrestrained – and the adult in us follows behind just shaking his or her head.

But it doesn’t have to be like that. Jesus didn’t panic. He, too, heard the swords and saw the clubs, but he didn’t lose his head. And it was his head that the Romans wanted. And in re-reading the garden scene we can see why Jesus could keep is composure. One statement made by our master offers two basic tools for keeping our cool in the heat of a decision: “Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation.”

Watch. Jesus is saying “pay attention.” You know your weaknesses. You also know the situations in which your weaknesses are most vulnerable. Stay out of those situations. You know the ones. Back seats. Late hours. Nightclubs. Poker games. Bridge parties. Movie theaters. Whatever it is that gives Satan a foothold in your life, stay away from it. In other words, watch out; pay attention.

And pray. Prayer isn’t telling God anything new. There’s not a sinner or a saint on this planet who surprises him. What prayer does, however, is invite God to walk the shadowy pathways of life with us. Prayer is asking God to watch ahead for falling trees and tumbling boulders; to bring up the rear, guarding our backside from the poison darts of the devil.

Take careless talk, for example. Insensitivity makes a wound that heals very slowly. If someone hurts your feelings intentionally you know how to react. You know the source of the pain. But if someone accidentally bruises your soul, it’s difficult to know just how to respond. For instance, someone at work criticizes the new boss who also happens to be your good friend. “Oh, I’m sorry — I forgot the two of you were so close.” Or, a joke is told at a party about overweight people. You’re overweight. You hear the joke. You smile politely while your heart sinks.

Or, what was intended to be a reprimand for a decision or action becomes a personal attack: “You have a history of making poor decisions, John.” Or, someone chooses to wash your dirty laundry in public. “Sue, is it true that you and Jim are separated?” Insensitive comments. Thoughts that should have remained thoughts. Feelings which had no business being expressed. Opinions carelessly tossed like a grenade into a crowd.

And if you were to tell the one who threw these thoughtless darts about the pain they caused, his or her response would likely be, “Oh, but I didn’t mean to … I didn’t realize you were so sensitive!” or “I forgot you were here.” Listed under the title of subterfuge is the poison of insensitivity. It’s called subterfuge because it’s so subtle. Just a slip of the tongue. Just a blank of a memory. No one’s really at fault. No harm done. Perhaps.

And then again, perhaps not. For as the innocent attackers go on their way excusing themselves for things done without hurtful intention, a wounded soul is left in the dust, utterly confused. “If no one intended to hurt me, then why do I hurt so badly?”

God’s Word has strong medicine for those who carelessly wag their tongues:

“The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of his life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell.” (James 3:6)

“He who guards his mouth and his tongue keeps himself from calamity.” (Prov. 21:23)

“He who guards his lips guards his life, but he who speaks rashly will come to ruin.”
(Prov. 13:3)

“When words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is wise.”
(Prov. 10:19)

The message is clear: we who dare to call ourselves God’s ambassadors are not afforded the luxury of idle words. Excuses such as “I didn’t know you were there,” or “I didn’t realize you were so touchy” are shallow when they come from those who claim to be followers and imitators of the Great Physician. We have an added responsibility to guard our tongues. Insensitive slurs may be accidental, but they are not excusable.

So, “Watch and pray.” Good advice. Let’s take it. Because it could be the difference between a peaceful day on the lake, or a stick of dynamite in our laps.

Grace,

Randy