You know the nightmare. Perhaps you fall off a boat into the sea. You scrabble about, searching for something to buoy you up. But there is nothing. You feel yourself sinking. You struggle to the surface, but the effort is too great. A deep current pulls you under the water.
And then you wake up. Maybe the nightmare is different on other nights. Perhaps your house is burning, and you struggle to rescue your loved ones, but then the stairs cave in and you realize it is too late. Or you trip while crossing the railway just as a train comes round the bend. We all know the feeling of terror, and we all know the relief when we find it is "only a dream" (and maybe also the worry when we wonder what it is all about!)
For some, these events are not just a dream. There are people who have escaped from the jaws of death, who have been rescued from drowning, who have fled the destruction of war, who have found safety.
This theme of peril and escape recurs again and again in the Psalms. "Save me from the lion's mouth." (Ps. 22:21) "I sink into deep mud. The waters come over me." (Ps. 69:2). "If the Lord had not been on our side, the flood would have swept us away." (Ps. 124:4)
The same theme recurs in the New Testament. Jude writes about saving people from the fire (v.23). And the disciples, who were familiar with the sudden storms that disturbed the Sea of Galilee, knew what is was when "a great storm of wind arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already filling." (Mk.4:37) Rescue, safety, salvation is at the centre of the Gospel.
So imagine in your nightmare that a passing liner sees you. You find a strong hand to cling to, to pull yourself out of the water. You are safe. The forces that pulled you down are still there, but you are free from them.
And so it is, with God, and us, and sin. There are no prizes for seeing the analogies - so far! And we do well to give thanks for that strong hand, offered by God, working through the people and the world around us.
But imagine that the passing liner is on a luxury cruise. You are drenched and shivering. Nobody wants to know you, nobody is interested in your story. The passengers turn their backs on you - after all, they have paid good money for their caviar and their baccarat.
This story is for you, the passenger. It is not for nothing that the church is likened to a ship. But not a cruise liner. We are not a luxury vessel, but a rescue boat. Or if you liken the church to a building, we are not a club house, even if we are all like-minded people. We are a Notlager, a safe house.
We are all here together. Some of us have stories of escape, some of us are here just because we know it is safe. We may all have different ways of using our time, but we have a common reason for being here. So we must be an open house, seeking and open to all who want to dwell in safety. And if anyone feels unwelcome or unsafe among us, we have failed in our calling.
HD