Beyond the Reef
One of our first weekends overseas, Peter and I ventured to one of the esteemed Okinawan beaches we had heard so much about. We bought snorkeling kits from a bodega and zealously headed south in our new Subaru hatchback toward a highly sought-after beach among snorkelers and divers. We were so excited, albeit a little nervous, but expectant of what the splendor of this white-sand, tropical beach with turquoise-blue waters would feel like to finally behold.
Pulling into a dusty, marshy parking lot, we checked the GPS to make sure we didn’t take a wrong turn somewhere. But alas, this was it. Snorkeling kits in hand, we got out of the car, zig-zagged our way through the rock-constructed boardwalk, and we were greeted by…
…the last thing we had had in mind as it pertains to the grandeur of Okinawa beaches. What met the eye was bland, unstimulating, unbeautiful, unexciting, and everything except the picture we had envisioned.
Disappointment swelled in my chest the further we walked, for it opened up into nothing but a dusty, bland, dull-sand, bleak-water, everglades-esque marsh of a place. “Beach” was hardly the appropriate term as we had known them to be; no crashing waves, no smell of saltwater in the air, no seashells lining where the tide came in, and forget palm trees. It was still, and it was quiet.
But there was something about it, that I did not yet understand, that drew snorkelers and divers throughout the world to it.
Steam unearthed itself with every step we took across the hot, gray sand as we trudged up to the shoreli— “marsh’s edge” with our snorkeling kits (I’m cracking up at this now). The water was shallow, and coral was visible to the eye. We could see fish flitting beneath the ripple of the waters, but the shallows were not revealing of much from where we stood. Taking our cues from the locals nearby, we fastened our goggles and gently waded in until the water was hip height, took a breath, and humbled ourselves under.
What lay beneath the surface… was captivating. The magnificence of the different shades and hues of all different species of fish peacefully coexisting together; colors ranged from vibrant blues to vivid reds, glaring yellows, and brilliant purples. Even the black and white fish glimmered with radiance. There was nothing attractive about this beach; nothing that would have drawn us to it based on outward appearance. Full submersion was required, otherwise we never would have beheld the fullness of the beauty we were being invited to.
Blessing is on the
other side of comfort.
That said, the best part of the entire experience was beyond the reef. Now in order to get past the reef, we had to swim through a narrow strait that opened to the ocean. The strait itself was relatively short, but the current was strong, and we had to swim against it. Gliding along would not have sufficed. An all-out, nearly-Olympic effort was necessary if we were to make it beyond the shallows. Gliding along implicates that our body would be going through the motions, but stagnant in progress. What we needed to propel us forward was momentum and resolve—our mind, heart, and body working in unison. What a striking parallel as to how the Lord calls us to seek Him.
After a brawl against the current, the strait opened up into a vast, clear, turquoise-blue chasm struck by sunbeams. A coral reef with thousands of colorful fish, representing security and comfort, on one side, and wide open ocean, representing vulnerability and surrender, on the other. It was intimidating; some would say terrifying, but it was beautiful, and it was thrilling.
The Bible says the same thing about Jesus; that there was nothing to attract us to Him based on outward appearance. Isaiah 53:2 (ESV) says, “For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him.” At face-value, He was an “average” Jewish man—average height, average clothing, average vocation of carpentry; even the name “Jesus” was common, like “John” or “Joshua.” There was nothing that physically distinguished Him as Deity. In that day, people had to physically go and be in proximity to Him to hear His teachings; to be submerged in His presence and see; to ask Him and receive healing.
Just like full submersion beneath the surface was needed to behold the magnificence flitting beneath; we must fully submit to His authority and submerge ourselves in His Word. Just like we were to have momentum and resolve to make it through the narrow strait to behold the thrill of the open ocean; we must have momentum and resolve with our minds and hearts focused along the narrow path that leads to Glory. It is not enough to “go through the motions,” as we are not called to be stagnant in faith. He loves us way too much, and certainly did not die for the church to be stagnant.
The wide path is easy to glide along. The narrow path, however, demands diligence and effort—mind and heart functioning together, by the Holy Spirit, in active pursuit of Christ. Few find the narrow path. The current of culture and Satan’s pursuit to derail us will be against us, but Jesus commands us to fear not (Luke 12:32 ESV).
We are called beneath the surface and beyond the reef.
Rare is it that beyond the reef occurs within the confines of comfort. Across the expanse of the Word, account after account documented in history, comfort is the antithesis to the carrying out of God’s will.
Imagine if Abraham decided not to move his family to the Promised Land because he was comfortable enough snorkeling in the shallows of familiarity—surely, he would not be the Father of a multitude of nations. The Lord promised him blessing if he did what He said, and Abraham was wealthy; much was at risk. It’s not lost on God what He asks of us—He knew he was asking “Abram” to leave all that he had known and move to a completely foreign land, and because He is a covenantal, kind God, promised him blessing. “Now the Lord said to Abram, ‘Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and him who dishonors you I will curse, and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Genesis 12:1-3 ESV). Bless his obedience and uphold His promise He did. God gave him new land, a new name, and a son, Isaac, whom God would establish His covenant with (Genesis 17:21 ESV) and, thus, establish the bloodline of His own Son, Jesus Christ, Messiah Yeshua.
Likewise, imagine if Moses had not gone before Pharaoh, or Esther before King Ahaseurus, or if Ruth hadn’t loyally accompanied Naomi to Bethlehem? Ruth, for example, left all she knew in Moab and went to a completely foreign land where she knew not the people, the culture, nor the language. God blessed her. She met Boaz, he took favor upon her, wed her, and she gave birth to Obed—the father of Jesse, who was the father of David. The bloodline of the Messiah, Jesus Christ.
God required His people to move, to act, and to trust. His people were not created to be stationary objects who worshiped routine and were addicted to predictability. (To clarify, I’m not saying routine is wrong; routine is great for people (like me) who may (definitely) struggle with time management. However, if we are unwavering in our routine and will not interrupt or adjust it on behalf of the Kingdom and the depths the Lord wants to take us to, then it has become a captivity dressed as a friend). This is not to say the greats in the faith didn’t have their fair share of grumbling and complaining (Abraham and Moses), but eventually, they were able to see and hear. They were sheep to be shepherded, moving and adjusting to the cues of the staff of the Good Shepherd; people malleable to the Blacksmith, surrendered to His craftsmanship.
Blessing is beyond the reef.
Anything beyond human comfort, generally, is unappealing. It’s unattractive, like the initial beach Peter and I went to. Unappealing because it was not our perception of how a beach ought to look; unappealing because who knows what’s lurking beneath the surface; unappealing because it would have been much easier to lay on the beach and build sandcastles; unappealing because the current was too strong and the shallows were good enough to linger in.
Beneath the surface and beyond the reef is exciting! Jesus said, “Or which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!” (Matthew 7:9-11 ESV). (We are referred to as “evil” here as it’s synonymous with being human; humans are innately evil because of sin.) If humans know how to give good gifts… won’t our Father in heaven give us immeasurably more (Ephesians 3:20 ESV)? Will He not give us good gifts? Will He not take care of us and uphold us with His right hand in the open ocean? Blessing is beyond the reef.
Jesus commands us to fear not and warns us in whom our fear should be. In Luke 12 Jesus says, “I tell you, my friends, do not fear those who kill the body, and after that have nothing more they can do. But I will warn you whom to fear: fear him who, after he has killed, has authority to cast into hell. Yes, I tell you, fear him!” (v. 4-5). Jesus is referring to Himself, God the Son, and this kind of fear is a holy fear. This kind of fear is reverence and respect for the One who defeated death and will come back for His Bride with vengeance and cast Satan into hell with His pierced hands. It’s different from the fear Jesus warns against; the fear He warns against is fear misplaced. Just like He commands and is worthy of our highest praise, He also commands and is the only One worthy of our fear and reverence; anything else, which is under the jurisdiction of Satan and Satan himself, is not.
What compels a life of comfort, in my experience, is fear misplaced holding hands with pride. Fear misplaced: we either fear God, or we fear Satan; we submit to Light or we submit to darkness. Pride: not admitting our own neediness of God and thus not allowing ourselves to be needy of Him. Billy Graham (in his sermon “Choices We Make”) said, “You cannot serve God and mammon. You have to make a choice.”
Father, how do I counter comfort? The Holy Spirit was clear in His answer: with a spirit of willingness. Ask the Holy Spirit for a spirit of willingness; He will answer, and He will help you.
The Lord has made this irrefutably clear to me since He moved us abroad. Had He not directed our steps thousands of miles away from comfort, I would have been wandering forty years in the desert. Some people do need to physically be uprooted to grasp the height and depth and breadth of God; it just never occurred to me that I would be one of them. It was so kind of Him to move us to the place we absolutely did not want to live, for I have never communed with my God more than in the trenches of surrender. And there’s simply no going back to the former. Selah.
“Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom” (Luke 12:32 ESV). Brothers and sisters, we are a people called beyond the reef.
