I unhooked the dog's leash to let her run around and sniff new places for a few minutes and then turned around to enjoy the quiet and look out over the bay.
It's always been easy imagining the tall wood ships from other centuries raising their sails, the wind whispering through the shrouds as their heavy hulls plowed through waves and headed out to sea ... just like it's been easy imagining what ports and exotic destinations they visited almost 200 years ago.
But that night was different and I started thinking about the Apostle Paul ... and what was on his mind two thousand years ago when he stood for the first time at the rail of the ship that carried him away on his first missionary journey.
Did he feel scared? Was Paul wondering how the whole thing, including his life, would eventually turn out? Was his stomach churning with doubts, reluctance and uncertainty?
Was the Apostle Paul wondering if he'd turned off the stove, emptied the trash or left any lights on before leaving his house? Was he checking his iPad to make sure he had all his friends' addresses, or was he calling the post office to make sure they had the correct forwarding address?
Or was he jotting down notes about his ministry's projected budget or the perks he expected to receive within the year ... like travel, housing, food and clothing allowances, gold-plated health and retirement plans ... and a new model chariot every other year until he retired?
Did Paul think about all the people he needed to impress? Was Paul concerned with making outlines of the books he'd write or thinking about the royalties he'd receive ... or about how famous he'd become by preaching the gospel?
Or did Paul look around at the crew's faces ... and start worrying whether they were experienced enough to safely navigate the Mediterranean and deliver him back home safely? Did Paul glance down at the cluttered deck, listen for creaks in the hull and wonder how anyone could possibly know if the seams started leaking until it was too late?
Or did he think about pirates, shipwrecks and storms ... or glance up at the ship's feeble mast and start shaking his head, "Oh boy, does God really have his hand in this?"
Did Paul ever grasp what the journey ahead of him would require and what it might eventually cost, and think about changing his mind?
(9th century Mediterranean cargo ship. - source here)
Those are the kinds of things I'd have on my mind, but I'm not like Paul. I'm certain Paul was as focused, as unafraid and as certain as it's possible for a man to be.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized how I wished I could be like Paul ... until at last it was time to leash up the dog and call it a night. So I dropped off the dog, walked back to my boat, and spent the next three days wondering what made Paul so different from me and from thee.
--
After re-reading the gospel account of Christ's appearance to Saul on the road to Damascus lots of believers would likely agree, "Well if Jesus himself ever appeared to me exactly the same way he appeared to Paul, then I'd have Paul's kind of confidence and calling, too."
No sir sorry, I don't think so. Not for a minute.
The gospels are filled with accounts of people who saw Christ in the flesh, saw him perform miracles, spent years either in his presence or following his movements from town to town ... in other words, there were literally hundreds, if not thousands, of people who's seen for themselves and knew firsthand, beyond any possible doubt that Christ's word was true ... yet they still did not believe.
Judas was one of them. The Pharisees were many of them.
--
Why did Christ choose Paul to appear to that day on the road to Damascus? Was there something special in Saul, the infamous persecutor of believers, that made him different from every other person alive on the planet? If we believe in free will, how did Jesus know that his appearance would irrevocably and permanently convict Saul's heart ... and transform him to become Christ's greatest evangelist?
We have no way of knowing, but what if Christ had first called another man, or a dozen men, who heard what the Savior wanted ... but who then thought of a reasonable-sounding excuse and told Jesus "No thanks"?
What if Saul had shaken his head and said, "Lord I hear you, but my answer is No"?
But he didn't: Saul the Persecutor heard Christ's calling and repented. Saul surrendered, totally, completely and permanently ... and became Paul the Apostle.
Could be that's why Paul was different. You and I have professed faith in Christ as Lord and Savior, yet every day of our lives we look Christ in the face and tell him "Maybe, I dunno. Could be. Are you sure that's what you want? I'm not sure I want to. Right now I'm pressed for time. I'm not sure that's a good idea ... are you sure that's gonna work? Remind me to do something about that later. Lord, I don't see how I can help. Well ok, I might try."
And sometimes we'll even tell the Creator 'That's just not what I believe ... because your will and what you expect of me sounds kinda sketchy. And besides, what you want is inconsistent with what I want.'"
--
We keep those excuses handy and tell God those things because they make it easy to convince ourselves that somehow Paul was different ... while ignoring how Paul was able to accomplish so much more for God's kingdom.
As if it's OK to blame Christ because we can't find it in our hearts to trust and surrender ... totally, completely ... without questioning, second-guessing or trying to bend his will to conform to and accommodate our schedules and our wishes.
