Jesus on the Shore.

Last night at Tehillah, the speaker, Nolan Clark, spoke about when Jesus appeared to the disciples on the shore after they'd been fishing all night. This wasn't the first time he appeared to them after his resurrection.

After these things Jesus showed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias; and he showed himself in this way. Gathered there together were Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples. Simon Peter said to them, "I am going fishing." They said to him, "We will go with you." They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.

Just after daybreak, Jesus stood on the beach; but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, "Children, you have no fish, have you?" They answered him, "No." He said to them, "Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some." So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in because there were so many fish. That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, "It is the Lord!" When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea. But the other disciples came in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they were not far from the land, only about a hundred yards off.

When they had gone ashore, they saw a charcoal fire there, with fish on it, and bread. Jesus said to them, "Bring some of the fish that you have just caught." So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore, full of large fish, a hundred fifty-three of them; and though there were so many, the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, "Come and have breakfast." Now none of the disciples dared to ask him, "Who are you?" because they knew it was the Lord. Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish. This was now the third time that Jesus appeared to the disciples after he was raised from the dead.

The theme of the talk last night was about following Jesus, going to him when he appears on the shore - swimming through our own shame and fear and doubt, and just going to him.

It was quite a good talk, but this post isn't so much about the talk as it is about some of the images it reminded me of as I listened.

But her resolve was badly shaken when she reached the division. To be sure the tunnel that veered left had green light with no other attraction. It was the blue tunnel that frightened her. She could see that soon a chasm opened up, and that to cross it she would have to walk along a narrow roughhewn log about as long as Grosvenor Avenue was wide.

There was no point in pursuing the other tunnel. She knew by now that it would lead her falsely. But the chasm? She crept to the edge of it and peered down cautiously. It glowed with a soft red light. She saw that it was deep but did not dare lean forward to see how deep.

Stepping back she knelt, then lay down flat and inched her way forward until her head was over the edge. What she saw made her sick with fear. She could no see the bottom. The sheer walls of the chasm seemed to stretch down endlessly. As she stared at the vast drop beneath her she began to feel not only sick but dizzy. Tremblingly she pulled herself back and stood up again, well back from the chasm's mouth. How was she to get across?

In the distance, on the other side of the chasm, she saw that someone was walking toward her. Whoever it was walked with a swinging stride, vigorous and strong. As he (she was sure it must be a he) drew closer, she could see that he wore a simple white robe and that his hair and beard were also white. This puzzled her, for he walked with the vigor of someone young and strong. His back was straight and his shoulders broad. A sword in a scabbard hung from a gold belt around his waist. "Perhaps he's very blond," she thought to herself. "It's hard to tell in this light. But in any case, maybe he can help me over that awful log." The man was soon approaching the far end of the chasm. When he got there he stood and smiled at her. His hair was white and his beard too. But his brown eyes were young. And so was his face. Or was it?

Afterward when she tried to describe his face, she could never do so. It was young yet it was old, very, very old. It was merry yet it spoke of untold sorrows. It was kind yet it was stern; tender yet incredibly tough; gentle yet as strong as steel. As she stared at him across the chasm she felt both terribly glad to see him and terribly afraid. She was so afraid in fact that for the moment she forgot her terror of the chasm.

"Lisa, you must cross the bridge."

His voice was warm and deep. He was not scolding her, just stating a fact. Yet she knew he was also giving her an order.

"Who are you?" She already knew but she had to ask.

"I am the Shepherd, Gaal."

"You don't look like a shepherd. Where's your shepherd's crook? Where are your sheep?"

"Anthropos is one of my sheep/"

"But Anthropos is a country."

"Countries are my sheep but so are you... if you want to be."

If she wanted to be?

A rush of feeling rose from the soles of her tired, sore feet to the crown of her head. Oh, how she wanted him to be her Shepherd! Somehow he was more comforting than ten Uncle Johns all rolled into one. Tired, hungry, weary and a little frightened too, she longed to belong to the man on the other side of the chasm.

But instantly she was aware of two things. Could he see how dirty she was? How sticky? How ugly? Did he relaly know that she had once said there was no Shepherd? Did he know she had been ready to side with the magician and to betray Kardia? the second thing that frightened her was the chasm. He made no attempt to cross it, but stood on the far side waiting for her.

"Do you want me to be your Shepherd, Lisa?"

"She hung her head. "Yes."

"You don't sound very happy with the idea."

"I'm scared. You might not want me if you knew..."

"If I knew about your sticky hands? And your smudgy face? If I knew you had said I didn't exist? If I knew you wanted to join Hocoino and said you hated your Uncle John? I know all these things, Lisa, yet I would still like you to be my sheep. The question is, Do you want me to be your Shepherd?"

Lisa's head was still bent. "Will I have to cross the chasm?"

"Yes."

"I'm scared to."

"I know. But I won't let you fall."

"The log may not be steady."

"I put it there myself. It's as steady as the rock on both sides of the chasm."

Lisa looked again at the wood and saw something she had not noticed before. On the far side there was a bar, resting in a slot in the rock. The rough bridge was a T shape, with the crosspiece at the T at the far end.

"I'm scared. I really am scared. You don't know what it's like..."

"I do know. I know the terror in your heart. But I will never let you fall."

Lisa was trembling. Somehow she knew that behind her lay everything in her past, not only the ugly and shameful things that had happened in Anthropos, but all that she was and had been.

"What if you're not real? What if you're only another of my wishes like Hocoino or Uncle John?"

"In that case I won't be able to help you. If you stumble on the log you will fall. But I am real and I will not let you fall."

"How can I know whether you can help me or not, whether you're real or merely my wish?"

"Only by crossing the chasm."

"And if I fall?" She could scarecely say the words so fiercely did her heart beat.

"I will reach out and catch you."

Lisa remembered a game she had played as a child, a game which you may have played yourself, of falling backward, trusting the person behind you to catch you. But this was far, far worse.

She hated to say she didn't see how he could. "But the gap is much wider than your arms."

"Is it?"

"It sure looks like it."

"Lisa, look at me!"

Lisa lifted her head and looked at his amazing face. He held her eyes in his.

"Lisa, do you think I would let you fall?"

She gazed at him steadily. As she did so something was born in her that had never been there before. Suddenly she knew how groundless, indeed how silly her fears had been.

"No. You wouldn't let me fall. You wouldn't ever let me fall."

"Then keep looking at me and walk forward. That's right! Now a little to the left. Good. Now put your right food forward." She felt wood under her foot, solid wood, but she kept her eyes on Gaal. "Keep looking at me, Lisa. Walk toward me. That's right. Keep on walking."

Never for a moment did she take her eyes from Gaal's face - never, that is, until she was about two feet from him. Then it occurred to her that she must be just about across the bridge. The temptation to look down to see became too great.

Instantly she realized her mistake. Endlessly below the thin bridge a vast gulf fell downward. With a scream she swayed dizzily and knew that nothing could prevent her from plunging into it. Wildly she waved her arms in an effort to maintain her balance. One foot slipped and she found herself falling sideways.

Strong hands gripped her arms. Strong arms lifted her clear of the rough wood. Suddenly she was pressed against Gaal's soft white robe and found his arms around her, holding her close. She shut her eyes tightly, felt him lift her and walk several paces away from the chasm.

Then he set her down, still holding her closely.

"It is never good to look down."

"No, Gaal."

"But you are safe now."

"Yes, Gaal."

The Tower of Geburah, John White, pages 174-179
© 1978 by Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship of the United States of America

The volume and closeness of the voice shocked her, and she stopped in her tracks, looking piteously at Gaal. But he was bending over, wetting his fingers with the blood that came out of his scar. "Come, Mary. Don't be afraid."

As she reached him he said, "Kick off the shoe on your right foot!" She did so, letting her bare foot rest on the sand and trying not to think of the witch's voice, still talking in her ears. Then Gaal took the warm blood on his fingers and wiped it first on her big toe, then on the thumb of her right hand, and then, to her surprise, on the lobe of her right ear. A broad smile lit up his face. "Now you are mine," he said, "and the witch has no more power over you!"

At once the voice in her ears was gone, and there was no more smell. Faint sounds still came from the crystal ball, but she could not tell what they were about. More important she was in her own body again - overweight, pimply, but free. A rush of warmth rose from the soles of her feet. The joy she had experienced at the time she had heard the stars clap their hands exploded inside her again, and she flew like a cannonball at Gaal. His arms were wide apart and both of them fell to the sandy floor.

"Gaal!" she shouted in amazement. "Oh, I'm sorry!" They had falling to the floor from Mary's impact. "You're really not mad at me? You still want me?"

He scrambled to his feet, pulled her up with him, and holding her by both hands burst into the merriest laughter. Then he twirled her in mad circles dancing and laughing with the laughter of deep heaven. "Why do you think I came all this way to find you?" he shouted back, "How long d'you think I've been chasing you, Mary McNab? And now I have you!" His voice rose in a whild song, and as they danced a new wonder came to Mary McNab. He had actually wanted her! Gaal was so glad about it that he seemed crazy with joy. Her legs were alive with energy, and she felt she wanted to go on dancing forever. She had one shoe off and the other shoe on, but what did she care about shoes?

The Iron Sceptre, John White, pages 300-301
© 1981 by Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship of the United States of America

I love these books. And in re-reading this second passage, the one about Mary being claimed by God though she feels completely unworthy of his love, I am reminded of myself.

It brings tears to my eyes. This girl who is not perfect, who feels so completely unworthy of anyone's love... she has discovered the love of God, and she is filled with amazement and joy.

I feel like this Mary a lot of the time. I feel unworthy. I feel "not enough", "less than", grungy, ugly... any horrible word you can think of, I have probably felt it.

But how awesome - how amazing - how beautiful - how wonderful! To know that God is seeking after me, though I am imperfect. To know that he loves me, in all my imperfections.

To know that he'll keep me safe if I start to fall off the bridge, and he'll clean me up and give me lovely clothes to wear and make me beautiful, if I'll just take that first step and come to him.

He loves me. In spite of - perhaps even because of - these things that I don't like about myself.

I'm not talking about sin. I'm not talking about the bad things I do that I know I oughtn't do. Shame rarely takes hold of my spirit. I'm talking about self-loathing, that mind-set everyone falls into once in a while, where nothing we do is right and everything we try falls to pieces and we're not worthwhile and should never have been born and... you get the picture.

Yet he loves me. When I'm in the middle of thinking all of these horrible things about myself, he loves me. And he's after me, chasing me down.

Me. He wants me. No matter what.