The Christian life has often been compared to climbing a mountain—uphill until the very end, though with great views and marvelous details of flowers and insects all along the way. It could also be compared to driving up a twisting mountain road, narrow and dangerous, when watching the road signs is very important. One could think of train travel and the necessity that the engineer keep on the track by obeying the signals exactly. Recently we have been flown from city to city in a small plane; the pilot’s constant communication with control towers was a vivid illustration of the need to stay “on course” in life by staying in contact with the Master Planner. The ship captain needs to watch his compass, the radar screen, and other instruments. Whatever mode of travel one chooses, one needs some means of guidance to avoid dangers, even if it is the danger of stubbing a toe.
Surely we who are the Lord’s people through the Lamb, whose names are written in the Lamb’s Book of Life, have a “way” we must travel, from one point to another, in the Lord’s planned course for us. We need to stay on course by observing his written signposts in the Bible, continually looking into it for direction, as well as keeping in communication with our Director by prayer for the help he has promised.
There is real and constant danger of getting off the road by forgetting that there will be twists and turns, curves and hidden bumps, and taking our eyes off the directions. We are meant to be watching the road signs all along the way. I sit here looking out over an ice-filled, snow-covered river in Boston, the buildings and bridge faded by a thick mist and frosty fog. The frozen scene and thoughts about the danger of missing the curves in life’s climb up the mountain have blended in a warning to me this morning that I long to pass on. We are all in danger of missing the next curve and ending up in a heap of broken bodies, hindered from going on to what the Lord has for us to do, because we want to continue in our own way.
There is no difference essentially between being too ambitious, wanting something too “big” and “successful” in the world’s eyes in Christian work or in our own Christian lives, and being apathetic, wanting something tiny and quiet. We can hinder the Lord by really wanting our church to be a cozy club of “old-timers” or “close friends” with no unknown new people to change the atmosphere or disturb the pattern. We can try to limit our Bible class to the number of blue-sprigged teacups we have, to make a more refined looking, orderly gathering, rather than a squash of people sitting on the floor and on stools as well as on chairs and couches, drinking from cups of all kinds.
The twists in the path, the rocks under the sea, the bumpy air, the curves skirting cliffs, are there for each of us. They are not easily defined or anticipated; they are different for each person, and for various periods of each person’s life. We have to be like Paul and be able to say, “Yes, Lord, with your strength in my weakness, yes.” The course changes, and there is always someone to ask, “What are you doing?” The only question that matters is the one that comes to us from the Lord as he speaks to each of us with his words to Peter: “What is that to thee? Follow thou me.” Any other way is off course.
