“Why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing? The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the LORD, and against his anointed, saying, Let us break their bands asunder, and cast away their cords from us.”
No strings or binding ties in relationships is nothing new. People have felt that way throughout history. That philosophy has never been more true than when it comes to a relationship with God. The profession, “I’m spiritual, but not religious” is nothing but a modern repetition of the age old desire to be free from any claims God may make on our lives. People are willing to concede God’s existence as long as it doesn’t interfere with what they want to do. The whole idea of being bound by rules or duty is abhorrent to human thinking. We are rebels at heart and proud of it. But here’s the thing about bands and cords; there are times when you need them.
Several years ago the boys and I went to a scouting camporee. On the final day we climbed climbed into the mountains to go rappelling. I thought it would be great fun for the boys, but I had no intention of going over any cliffs on a rope. Earle Acree, the leader of the expedition, put on all the safety garb and went running over a sixty foot drop to show us all how fun it was.
Reaching the bottom, he called up for all to hear, “Now, Jack will show you how easy it is.”
Two hundred eyes suddenly looked to me for inspiration and assurance. I had fallen into a carefully laid trap. I was a leader; a man among boys; I could do this. I quickly looked for a way out, but to no avail. I was strapped into a harness and crowned with a helmet. With gloves on my trembling hands, I peered over the edge and wondered anew what kind of fool could think this was a good idea. Was I really one of the idiots that came up with this idea?
“Turn around,” Earle called up.
At least I wouldn’t see the bottom racing up to shatter my bones. Sometimes in life there’s no time for prayer beyond a desperate, “God help me.” I positioned myself on the brink.
“Now, walk backwards over the edge,” came the instructions from below.
Without even waiting the mental command, my feet shuffled back a few inches. My toes tried to dig into the rock that my heels abandoned. I went over the edge.
“No, lean back away from the rock and walk down it.”
This was insanity. My terror fueled instinct to cling to the rock was evident from below. Earle stepped in to help.
“Let go of the rope,” he said. “I won’t let you fall.”
This sounded impossible, but hanging in midair five stories up, sometimes you’re willing to try the impossible. I let go---slowly.
Nothing happened.
I was still alive! I was still hanging from a cliff, but I was alive. Better yet, I hadn’t moved an inch.
“As long as I have a hold of the rope that is tied to you; you won’t fall,” Earle said with complete confidence. “Walk on down.”
Fear gone and a strange sense of thrill setting in, I walked down the cliff. Once I realized that the one I was tied to kept me safe, I could do what before seemed impossible.
This story came back to me in full force this week with the passing of my daughter-in-law, Paula. Death is an impossible drop into an unknown abyss. What becomes of us when we step over the edge depends on who have tied ourselves to in life. We all have an appointment with death, but few choose the time. Who holds the rope for you?
The heathen rage over the bonds of God and His people imagine they can live free of His cords. The scripture says,“He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh: the Lord shall have them in derision.” But whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.