The MORAL LEFT

The MORAL LEFT

Christians are separated politically.  There are many well funded media outlets that affirm the Christian Republican outlook, but few print and web voices promoting a singularly Christian Democrats' point of view.

Christian Democrats express their political allegiance in Christ's name by working within the political structure democratically.  Their political involvement is not a compromise with the world, or a surrender to heathens or heretics, or a capitulation to influences of the word.

Instead, their civic mission is to saturate political life with "the more important matters of the law: justice, mercy and faithfulness (Matt. 23:23b)."  Because our Democratic-Republic is not a theocracy, their mission is to carryout God's will within the structure of the State.   Therefore, Christian Democrats are obligated to work with the given political culture, much of which is humanistic, naturalistic, materialistic, and empirically based.  To fulfil their God given calling, they must patiently work to influence the political world in ways that bring it incrementally closer to God's ideal.

Christian Democrats are guilty of being social reformers.  Like former Christian reformers throughout history they are not bringing something heathen or heretical into Christianity.  On the contrary, they are bringing Christianity into the world*1."  Their political mission is not to disassemble and reassemble institutional structures, but to  the work within them to redeem and restore their moral political potential.

More importantly, the ultimate goal for the Christian Democrat is not to impose Christian morality on the citizens, nor is it simply the creation of a moral and just governmental structure, but Christian Democrats are called to assure a just and free environment in which the Gospel can flourish harmoniously within society.

Many other Christians consider Christian Democrats immoral apostates following the world's corrupt liberal passions.  Instead faithful to God's calling, the opposite is true.  They actually stand against the destructive forces of self-interest, which naturally corrupt moral judgement of any political system.

When considering matters of good and evil Christians of all persuasions rely on the Biblical record of Christ's life, teaching, death, and resurrection as their authority.  Because Jesus didn't specify a specific political system Christians must seek to influence the existing system in conformity with Christ's principles; "love thy neighbor as thy self", and "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."

Both D. & R. Christians must rely on the guidance of the Holy Spirit to inform their moral intuition within political limits, which means any moral judgement that does not contradict the Bible or the Spirit is worthy of thoughtful political implementation.  C. S. Lewis offers some practical suggestions in determining those political limits.

Lewis claimed that buried within each person's conscience is a universal consistent basic "moral intuition."  It operates as an intuitive awareness that rules our appetites and passions.  This moral intuition, over time retreats behind self-interest (sin).  Nevertheless, Lewis described this moral intuition in its most basic form as an understanding that, "love is good and hatred is bad, and that helping is good and harming bad."*2  In other words moral intuition is the law of love given by Christ Jesus.*3

The ultimate desire of all Christianity is that everyone will enter a relationship with God through Christ and be saved from life-corrupting sin.  So it is disappointing, that Christianity is divided politically, and that the wedge separating them is moral.  Yet, the tragedy persists.  It is not that one wants sin to continue and the other wants it to cease.  It's a matter of how to best achieve the moral goals they share.

One side believes moral behavior can and should be forcibly imposed on a diverse citizenry, while the other side believes forced morality only compounds and increases immorality among those who choose to evade or profit from their defiance.

Therefore, the division between Christian D's and R's is not over an obligation to follow God's moral law, but the emphasis placed on two different means of achieving moral compliance.  The R Christians and even the none Christians Rs, believe that top down governmental pressure can successfully demand obedience to the moral law, while Christian D's propose other strategies .

Throughout the Bible we are given proof that the law imposed from above is an ineffective method of producing morality in a nation or in individuals.  Morality is not a trickle-down commodity.  Establishing, or rather redeeming the rule of God's implanted moral intuition requires a change from the inside out, not the outside in.

Unfortunately, even though both D & R Christians can agree on the same moral obligations, they continue to argue over the most effective and just way of achieving God's moral ends politically.  The problem then is two different points of view.  One believes that government can and should mold the moral character of its citizens.  The other believes political force can never do what religion is ordained by God to do.  And so not only do they argue, but accuse each other of every form of evil imaginable, forgetting that both arguing*4 and slander*5 are immoral.
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*1 St. Thomas Aquinas
     by G. K. Chesterton
*2 Why I'm Not A Pacifist
     by. C. S. Lewis
*3 Mark 12:30-31
*4 Titus 3:9
*5 2Tim. 3:15

ASSERTIONS vs ARGUMENTS

 ASSERTIONS AREN'T ARGUMENTS

An assertion is a confident and forceful statement of fact or belief.

An argument is a reason or set of reasons given with the aim of persuading others that an action or idea is right or wrong.

Titus 3:9 "But avoid foolish controversies and genealogies and arguments and quarrels about the law, because these are unprofitable and useless."

My Facebook posts are not intended to persuade anyone.  I have my convictions and beliefs, and you have yours.  My FB. posts are assertions of my firmly held beliefs, not arguments.  Your disagreements are welcomed.  However, please don't be offended if I  choose not to respond, or respond with a mere clarification rather than an  counter argument.

Our disagreements only become arguments when you try to persuade me that your assertion is right and mine is wrong.

When an assertion about a belief is mistaken for an argument people try to defend their beliefs, and stop trying to understand what has been asserted.  Such exchanges satisfy one's need to be right, but it is an ineffective way to change anyone's beliefs.

I assert that arguing is sinful because 1) it fails to produce understanding, which is necessary to  clarify misunderstandings.  2) They are "unprofitable and useless" because arguments are not an effective way to alter the firmly held beliefs of another person.

Now, the following three paragraphs are more than an assertion.  The are rather direct argument meant intended to persuade.

The famed neuroscientist, Paul Zak has studied the brain chemistry of persuasion for most of his professional life.  He has concluded that when it comes to changing beliefs facts are secondary:

 “The mistake people make is using logic. For normal humans, data and evidence isn’t the way to change a mind.  We’re social creatures, and we’re fascinated by other humans. It’s not about the story. It’s about the storyteller.”

It is the human factor that matters, and God did it best in Christ.  He did express Himself in words, but most persuasively in what He did when He loved us to death...His own.  His kindness created the most profound belief alteration of them all.  He cared and It showed.  But chances are that argument didn't change you.

Yet I  most confidently assert that people are persuaded (to believe) not by our well reasoned arguments, but by the way we allow God to express His loving kindness through us.  Romans 2:4, "Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, forbearance and patience, not realizing that God's kindness is intended to lead you to repentance?"

My prayer is that the assertions we make will help others know us better without arguers feeling they must prove themselves right and the assertion wrong.  It is unprofitable and useless exercise.  May I suggest saying nothing, not even offering a clarification, which I have naively try, and simply make your own assertion elsewhere.

Christianity Undefiled

 CHRISTIANITY UNDEFILED

Undefiled Christians, influenced by God's character within, rather than force moral compliance on others purify themselves while loving the needy.
(James 1:19-27, 1 Corinthians 1:4-6+14, Philippines 4:7+8)

James 1:19-27

My beloved brothers, understand this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger, for man’s anger does not bring about the righteousness that God desires. Therefore, get rid of all moral filth and every expression of evil, and humbly accept the word planted in you, which can save your souls.

Be doers of the word, and not hearers only. Otherwise, you are deceiving yourselves. For anyone who hears the word but does not carry it out is like a man who looks at his face in a mirror, and after observing himself goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. But the one who looks intently into the perfect law of freedom, and continues to do so—not being a forgetful hearer, but an effective doer—he will be blessed in what he does.

If anyone considers himself religious and yet does not bridle his tongue, he deceives his heart and his religion is worthless. 

Pure and undefiled religion before our God and Father is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.

1 Corinthians 13:4-6+13

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no account of wrongs. Love takes no pleasure in evil, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love; but the greatest of these is love.

Philippians 4:7+9

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think on these things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me, put into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.

Epilogue, SPIRIT ON THE SAIL

SPIRIT ON THE SAIL

Epilogue

Experience Proves God Exists 

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Eternal In Temporal 

One last affectionate glance assures me that Chubasco is secure in her slip.  “I'll miss you until we are on the water again, dear old friend.”    

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Strolling toward the ramp, I wonder, “How can I summarize my discovery in a sentence or two?  Patsy will be picking me up soon and I can hardly wait tell her all about it."

 “Let’s see…”God’s existence is universally observable, and universally verifiable.  Therefore, God’s reality is empirically defensible.  Even those, who refuse to recognize Him, will see or have seen Him, within.  The dismissal of God’s perceptible presence within, for that reason, is inexcusable.  I suppose, that is what Jesus meant when He said,

“That seeing they may see, and not perceive; and hearing they may hear, and not understand;”   Mark 4:12

The Bible calls this condition, “a calloused heart,” and repeats this allegation of spiritual blindness in; Isaiah 6:9, Mathew 13:13, and Acts 28:26. 

It occurs to me, that recognition of God within is more than a twist on the medieval Ontological argument.  That ancient argument for God’s existence rests on "the concept” of God, rather than on an observation of God, Himself.  Frankly it's a well worn argument, which today is seen as an invalid argument wrapped in a brain teaser.

(Basically stated it claims that - 
A greatest of any class-of-being, 
must exist.

·   If God is the greatest of His class-of-beings,

·   Then God must exist.)

Not only that, but first-hand experience claims that God‘s appearance within is universally observable.  Unlike a "theophany," which is an observed manifestation or appearance of God witnessed outside the observer by a few, experiencing God's manifestion within means each and every person is an intended observer.  

First-hand experience of God, is neither an argument nor an evidence.  Therefore, it is irrefutable, and for that reason cannot be dismissed on logical grounds nor rejected for lack of evidence...no matter the opposing belief-system.  

It is actually a proposition.  A proposition with built in precondition.  It demands that detractors investigate the truth in a specified personal manner for themselves.  The skeptic must personally.  In doing so, they must accept or reject the challenge.  To do so, they unavoidably agree that they do indeed have spiritual sight.  Eyes that when wholeheartedly focused on God within will see Him.

It promises that while looking within oneself, the observer will see, either God's nature or moral authority or both.   However, recognizing God as God depends on the seeker’s willingness to acknowledge the sighting, as God, Himself.  That acknowledgement is called faith.  

When the attempt is sincere, it will produce self-evident results.  Naturally, any attempt made without a willingness to acknowledge the resulting experience is God, Himself, have not met the precondition...namely faith.  Hebrews puts it this way,

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“(F)or he that cometh to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him.”  Heb. 11:6 b KJV

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Even for those resistant to the precondition, the statement that “God exists” remains an irrefutable claim.  The proposition stands in the face of the accusation that, as Christians, we are victims of an un-provable belief-system.  

Sharing Today's Good News

Loaded with my newly formulated proof, I'm fully armed as Patsy pulls into the marina parking lot. Tossing my seabag in the back I receive her welcoming kiss, I take my place in the passenger seat, and we head for home

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PATSY - “How did our sail go this morning?”

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  ME - “Great!  You know how we tend to counter arguments against our faith with our personal testimony.  Then, when accused of making unsubstantiated claims, we put the Bible forward as our supporting evidence.  That automatically derails the discussion, which degenerates into opinions about Biblical fallibility.”

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PATSY – “So, that’s how the sail went…?”

ME - “I’m sorry, sweetheart; I am really pumped about this.  I’ve been looking for proof of God, but God is His own proof.  What’s more, after today, when faced with opposing believe-system arguments, I know not to insist that my believes are right.” 

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PATSY – “Really John, are we doing this all the way home?”

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ME – “I’m sure you agree, we have always known, our opposition is never really about lifestyle differences, or simply mindset disagreements, not even conflicts over worldviews, but now, I don’t think they are really belief-system clashes either.  We need to bypass those topics, because they are distractions from the person seeing God Himself, within them.  Those sidetracks only produce foolish arguments (2 Tim 2:23-25).

Christian opposition is actually a missed perception, basses on a misperceptions.  We should not argue to correct an incorrect belief-system.  That approach only creates more resistance.  Rather, we should be challenging people to experience their own first-hand encounter with God within themselves.  The key to correcting belief-systems, worldviews, mindsets, or lifestyles is experiencing God living within each if us.” 

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PATSY - “So what’s new about that?  I think of it more as hearing God than seeing Him.  It’s spiritual deafness.  ‘Faith cometh by hearing and hearing by the word of God.’  It’s the voice of God, you hear in your heart.”

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ME – “That’s it.  In fact, just before that verse in Romans, it says, ‘The word is nigh thee, even in thy mouth and in thy heart:  the word of faith, which we preach; that if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.’  So, God’s Spirit is present in the heart.” 

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PATSY- “Christians know that?

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 ME - “No, I’m saying the moral imperative we hear and selfless love we sense within, are not just divine character traits.  In their purest from, they are God.” (John 1:1 “The Word was God.”  1 John 4:8 “God is Love.”)   Of course He is more than what we can see or hear, but we can see and hear Him.

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“Think about it.  The Word and Love are not just His footprints left as evidence of Him passing through our lives.  They are actually the spiritual substance of His person... God’s recognizable reality inside.  He has not only come in His flesh, but even more significantly, He has come in our flesh.  (2 John 4:2)  These are not just qualities of the Holy Spirit or personifications of His nature.  They are manifestations of His person.  When we sense one of these two in our life and heart we are observing God.”       

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PATSY-“My goodness, are you ever worked up.”

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ME- “I think the recognition of God within is the critical experience necessary for a genuine belief-change.  What's more, it is the first-hand proof of the reality of God’s existence.”

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PATSY- “Whatever, you say dear.  I’ve got some fish thawed at home…Salmon.  Doesn’t that sound good?”

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ME- “I am really hungry…but, honey…I think God’s Spirit is being ignored daily by the human race, and often by us Christians, even though His Godhead and Eternal Power are exposed within us all.”  (Romans 1:20)

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PATSY- “You know what?...I believe something you told me, long ago.”

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ME- “Yah, what’s that?”

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PATSY- (In a declarative tone that announces the end of the discussion, she quotes my old refrain.)

 “Every believer is allowed at least one heresy.”

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ME - “OK then.” 

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I will just save the rest for a better time.  After all, when you lose an audience, more talking seldom wins them back.  Maybe, I will write a blog or something.  captjbeppler@blogspot.com  SPIRIT ON THE SAIL, 9/26/2015 (chapters 1-10)

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ME- “Well, this morning’s voyage was amazing.” 

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Even though tired enough to nap, I am too excited to close my eyes, as San Diego streaks past the window thinking, “Wow, what a passage.” 

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Chapter Ten, SPIRIT ON THE SAIL

SPIRIT ON THE SAIL

Chapter Ten

Entering the Marina

Chubasco’s sails swell wide here in our downwind approach along the arch of Harbor Island’s shoreline.  We both seem to take a deep breath of satisfaction with our pre-storm arrival at the marina entrance.  Yet for me the contentment is only partial.  A mixture of success and failure furrow my brow as I bring Chubasco about, head-to-wind, fire up the engine, and strike her sails.  

Chubasco almost seems to whimper sympathetically as the wind buzzes over her naked shrouds (The cables supporting the mast).  Stoically she holds steady, while I make sure her mainsail is neatly flaked, cradled within the lazy-Jack.  Then, with her fenders arranged, I swing her back around toward the mouth of Sunroad Marina.

Gliding into the marina corridor, row after row of slips filled with impressive vessels nod respectfully behind a roofless colonnade of white concrete pylon sentinels.  Like a military troupe under inspection, each pylon stands silently in line bearing the alphabetic insignia of its column, from Z to A.  

Conscious of Chubasco's dignity, I deliberately straighten up so I don't detract from her royal entry.  After all, it's not her fault I failed to discover empirical proof of God’s existence. 
   

A lighthearted voice from somewhere inside the columns greats us, “Ahoy, Captain John!”   Without actually seeing Gus, a fellow charterboat captain, I answer back, "And ahoy to you, cap'n Gus."  It is amusing that sailors actually greet each other with “ahoy,” but such foolishness is well received within the small professional maritime community here in San Diego.  We are just a bunch of guys, and a few gals, who prefer playing with boats, rather than making a real living.

“What’s up?” he yells as we cruise by. 

“Ho, just a boat transfer for Seaforth.”  I respond adding, “What’s up with you?”

Almost apologetically he answers, “Oh, you know, winter…doe’n what I can.”  Passing on to “C” dock, I wave, and yell over my shoulder, “See y’a on the water." 

Now out of Gus' sight, I feel the need to accept my defeat.  “O.K., I give up, Lord.  Why can’t I just leave it at that…should I?  Yet, it seems incredible to me that You really left us with no readily observable empirical proof of your existence?  Is that the end of story?”

I'll be forced to fall back on the old arguments of the ages, which are completely ineffective today.  They point to evidence, which may satisfy those of us who are already convinced, but offer not one shred of universally personal first-hand belief changing experiential and observable proof of God's reality to an unbeliever.

Chubasco’s slip is number thirty-five, some distance down the row on "C" dock.  Thankfully, there is an   unoccupied pier connected to the "C" dock entrance.  I decide to press Chubasco’s finders against the landing, temporarily lash her there, while I scroll down to slip #35.  

Here it is, but it is occupied.  However, the one next to it is empty.

“Either, I have the wrong slip number or there is an intruder in Chubasco’s space.”  

Puzzle Solved
Unwilling to move the offending boat without authorization, I take a few moments to check things out.  "Well that's strange."  Slip 35 has no electric outlet, but the empty one next to it does.  Part of my instructions included recharging the onboard batteries from the slip’s shore-power outlet.

 “I’ve got the wrong number.  I’m claiming the empty slip for Chubasco.”  

Feeling rather pleased with myself I swagger back toward my waiting sloop thinking, “Why am I almost giddy about such a simple conclusion?”  Sure, settling the mix-up now beats solving the problem while on the water.  In this wind, even a brief hesitation could jeopardized a clean landing.  Yet, my euphoria seems unrelated to the slip.

Slowing my pace I reason, “What is it?  It's as if I'm aware of something now, I wasn’t a moment ago?"  Puzzled, I cock my head to one side, as if tilted, might drip some clarity down to the low side.  "Come to think of it, I did observe a feature originally overlooked, which resulted in an actual proof."  Truly experience shapes beliefs.

I sense that if God really wanted to be recognized, like Captain Gus, He would be waving and shouting to get our attention, but we simply don't see Him.  "That’s it!” 

The rest of the way back to Chubasco I find myself skipping and shouting in the wind and rain, “I’ve got it, I’ve got it, I’ve finally got it!"  I have not recognized God as God, though He has been yelling and gesturing to all of us individually the whole time.  

Universally Observable
God is right here, signaling us each one by His Spirit from within.  What more proof do I or anyone else need. “True, He is not a material object, like an electrical box on a dock, but spiritual reality does not consist of objective ingredients.  Yet, His existence is not merely a subjective mental experience either.  On the contrary, His reality is so completely universally observable that it is overlooked, and mistaken for natural qualities of the human species.

God is Spirit.  He is constantly waving is immaterial arms of holy love to our human spirit.  His holy love exists, and not at all natural.  It is a supernatural quality.  A quality of God's reality displayed within every human heart.  

Experiences of His presence is also heard, "Do this, don't do that!"  No matter where we think that voice comes from it exists within the heart of everyone, approving some things while rejecting others.  It's source is spiritual.

I stop at the end of the dock and lean against Chubasco, as a rapid procession of thoughts brake through some neural dam.  Streams of ideas flow into well-worn channels of memorized scriptures,  and then pour into fresh pools of understanding. 

Verification Flood
The first combination of scripture to rush forward are from Romans. “God's invisible qualities - His eternal power and divine nature - have been clearly seen, being understood from" (also translated by) "what has been made,” (Sense we are the only things "made" that have the capacity to see and understand such things the reference is obviously human beings) "so that people are without excuse."

 Amplifying that verse, the one before it describes the invisible qualities we see in God's Divine Nature;  "faith, hope, and love, and the greatest of these is love."  

Seeing Love in our heart is actually us looking at God's Divine Spiritual Nature.  His perfect self-giving goodness is not natural to humans.  The same is true of two other qualities mentioned there; faith and hope.  These three are parts of God's Self-exposure seen by our human spirit. 

The other quality mentioned is His Eternal Power...God's ever-present moral authority.  The voice we hear that rules on what is good or evil, is God's Spirit.  Cultural anthropologist of course, ascribe the source of morality to other sources, but they cannot deny that humans all have this basic ethical screen.  This is a quality beyond material reality, which rightly belongs to the supernatural.  That voice is actually God's moral authority, shouting demands over our conduct, directing us to accept what is right and reject the other.  Sensing that ethical imposition is an first-hand experience of God's Eternal Power.

Those qualities (Divine Nature and Eternal Power) are not, as we imagine, characteristics of our better nature or aspects of human virtue.  The invisible and inaudible qualities of God are made known when faith hope, and love are observed, as well as when our heart hears a thing  declared good over evil.  These are invisible and inaudible revelations of God Himself within and to us. 

Taking Her Home

While awash with related ideas a moisture laden wind stretch Chubasco’s mooring lines.  “I almost forgot what I’m supposed to be doing.”  

As I release her lines, the breeze pushes her off the dock.  Leaping aboard, I spur her with a short reverse blast, which spins her counterclockwise off the pier.  Her pretty nose now aligned with the waterway between the slips, I shift her into forward.  

 Almost dizzy with the realization that the God of the universe actually stepped in and satisfy the quest of an old confused boat captain, I turn my rain drenched face toward the splattering storm.

“Thank you, Lord.  We've arrived, and You granted the proof I sought.”

“Oh, and thank You, for beating the storm.” 

With sufficient engine power to keep us moving forward, and still offset the wind pushing us portside, Chubasco compliantly enters her slip.  A final reverse propeller-blast settles her in without a fuss, and at last she calmly rests in her new home.  

            

Chapter Nine, SPIRIT ON THE SAIL

SPIRIT ON THE SAIL

Chapter Nine

Fluky Winds

The normally calm San Diego Bay has unusually "fluky" gusts swoop down from Point Loma's crest today.  They are splattering the surface with a mix of contrasting ripple zones running all over the bay.  From Chubasco's helm it is easy to detect the boundaries, direction, and speed of the otherwise invisible fluctuating winds.

Satisfied the hatches, gear, lines, cleats, winches, and handle are all in order, Chubasco and I slip by Ballast Point.  In anticipation of first gust I tighten my grip on the jib sheet in my right hand and hold the cleated main sheet loosely in my left while I manage the wheel.   With a flip of the wrist I can instantly ease or tension either line the moment a gust strikes.  

"Chubby, trust me we are much safer not having a crew."  A split second delay between command and crew response could turn a challenging sail, like this, into a risky one.  

An evaluation of my personal readiness, I realize I'm unconsciously clinching my teeth.  "Why am I so tense?"  It might be a residual caution from a deliberately repressed memory. After all, a couple of years ago in very similar conditions, here on this same bay, I almost lost my life.

Traumatic Regatta

It happened in one of the most exciting events the charter sailing business offers, a corporate regatta.  These events can involve several dozen boats and hundreds of guests.  The participants function as crew members aboard sailboats, in a race skippered by U.S. Coast Guard Licensed Captains.  Win or lose everyone, including us captains, have a lot of fun.

As is true in most of those events, the participants were for the most part non-sailors.  Disorientated by the novelty of sailing, they often become hopelessly confused at the simplest command; “pull” results in a push, “duck” prompts some to standup, “climb to the outside rail” causes a few to slump amidship.  The muddle is quite entertaining, so I carefully emphasis all operating procedures, especially jib-sheet winches operation. 

(·A Jib-sheet is the line attached to the foresail, which when pulled tight puts tension on the foresail and when eased, releases the tension.   
·The winch is a spool shaped device that provides mechanical assistance in tensioning the sheets.)  

Responding to the command, “EASE SHEETS” becomes impossible to obey when a sheet is stuck on its winch.  Therefore, my instruction that day, as always, went something like this:

“Wrap the jib-sheet only once or at most twice around these small winches, more than twice will causes the sheet to overlap, bind up, and get stuck so tight that it can’t be released on command…so wrap it no more than twice!”    

That day, like today, the winds were extremely fluky.  As we headed to the starting line an unusually gusty blast flexed its muscles against the fleet.  One captain had to return to the dock with a torn sail.  Another became so alarmed that he struck his sails, and returned to the marina as well.  The rest of us positioned our boats some distance from the starting line so we could cross the line at full speed.  

My boat actually needed to reduce its speed to keep from crossing the line before the starting gun sounded.  So, I gave the order, “Ease the sheets!” 

Unfortunately, the winch operator could not release his line.  Thinking, if two wraps provides some mechanical advantage, surely more wraps would be even better.  In his enthusiasm he wrapped the sheet around the winch four times.  Naturally, it was stuck tight in an overlap.  

I brought the vessel into the wind to take some of the pressure off the sheet, assigned the only experience sailor to the helm, and sprang to the offending winch.  Hoping a sharp upward jerk would free it, I gave it a hard hank, but no luck.  However, it did yielded just a bit.  There in the gusting wind, I crouched over the device to give myself maximum leverage, wrapped the tail-end of the line securely around my hand so it wouldn't slip through my fingers, took a deep breath, and lunged upward with all my might…

…Suddenly, I was in the hallway of the Norfolk, Virginia church I once pastored.  I recognized that hallway because when I blinked my eyes open, my face was pressed firmly against it's unusual navy gray-green color.  “It sure is dark in here.”  I thought, “The janitor must have turned out the lights.”  Soon, I heard a bubbling sound, “It must be coming from down the hall?”  As I listened more carefully, I realized, “No, It’s bubbling right in my ear.”  It occurred to me that something was extraordinarily wrong…   

...The next noise I heard was a strange squishing sound.  I recall thinking, “What am I hearing?”  Seated, I moved my left foot.  “There’s that sound again.”  I began connecting my foot movements with the noise.  My canvas deck-shoes bubbled with a squishing sound each time I moved my foot.  Then I began feeling wet, “Hay,” I noticed, “My sock is wet…both socks are.”  Next, I was aware that my knee was cold and my pants clung awkwardly to my legs.  Confused I realized, “My pants were all wet too.”  My undershirt was soaked as well.  I  was also wearing an unfamiliar sweater over my wet shirt, but it was completely dry.  It was all very odd.  

As more sensations awakened, I realized I was shivering.  Then gradually, my vision expanded to include shadowy beams of sunlight streaming through ceiling to flower windows.  “I’m in some sort of lounge.”  It looked like an airport gate lobby, with rows of people seated all around.  

More than a few of them seemed interested in me, so I nodded to several of them.  However, there was so many unfamiliar faces giving me special attention that I grew extremely uncomfortable.  Almost in panic, my eyes darted from fave to face, until they fell on the deep brown compassionate eyes of an attractive brunette seated nearby.  For several soft moments I let her friendly gaze calm me.  Yet, after a while, I began to blush.  It seemed inappropriate to be so absorbed in the eyes of a stranger, so I smiled and look away. 

That is when I noticed John Southerland, the manager of the downtown Seaforth Boat Rental’s, seated right beside me.  Bewildered I wondered, “What is Southerland doing here in the airport with me, or wherever ‘here’ is?”  

Unable to make sense of any of it I turning to John and asked, “John, where are we and why am I all wet?”  He told me that this was the second hospital we had visited today and that I had ask that same question over and over again at least a hundred times already.  Little pieces of conscious slowly stretched into a more steady stream.  It was months before my memory returned to what I consider normal.

I finally understood that when I lunged upward to free the sheet, an unexpected gust hit the mainsail with such force it drove the metal boom at devastating speed across the boat, crashed into my temple, knocking me unconscious overboard.  The frantic crew, after several minutes of looking for my body floating in the water, finally traced the sheet, which was still wrapped around my hand.  I was penned upside down, unconscious underwater, with my face mashed against the boat’s hull, and my feet dangling at the surface.   

A Spiritual Overlap
 Undoubtedly the reason I am grateful we have no crew today is that misguided winch operator.  It is somewhat reasonable that he assumed, if a few wraps around a little winch is good, more wraps is better. Yet, with that event behind me, I don't believe my nervous anticipation is much more than game day jitters athletes commonly experience.  Yet I do feel the need to check in with God, and all is well.

Still trying to play down any annoying anxiety I convince myself that these gusts pose no serious danger, even if they do restrict focused thoughtful reflection.   At least none of today's fluctuating blasts appear to be much over twenty-five knots...well within Chubasco’s capacity.  "What sailor wouldn't love to test their skills in an obstacle course like this one?"

Watching gusts rake the surface, I see the first big wind-shift heading our way.  It strikes the sails with unexpected furry, leaning Chubasco sharply to one side.  I quickly ease her sheets dumping the excess wind from the sails.  Chubasco automatically springs back up as if she merely stumbled.  With out a doubt, if I am not paying attention, these bursts could unceremoniously round Chubasco up into the wind, while embarrassing, that in itself is harmless.

The atmosphere start to glisten as the clouds droop low sponging Chubby's deck and my beard with moisture-thick air.  Chubasco is making outstanding progress as she tames one feuding gust after another.  

There in the mist ahead, I see a large patch of consistent wind rushing evenly along the curvature of Shelter Island.  The stable air along there extends all the way to Harbor Island.  Getting into a secure steady wind, does allow time to adjust my rain-gear, clean the oily residue off my boats, and formulate a plan for striking the sails.  The marina requires entry under engine power.

As the distant marina entrance comes into view I must face the fact that only half of today’s goals are nearly completed.  Thoughts of self consolation surface as I admit my disappointment.  "I expected the empirical proof of God's existence would have been revealed by now."

"Have I actually been deluding myself?  Was I mistaken to believe God, Himself, set this goal in my heart?  Yet, I'm still convinced an actual proof is as obvious as ripples prove the approach of an invisible gust.  What am I am overlooking?  Maybe what I need is another good hit in the head...a good hit in the head?"

Pulling my foul weather gear close around my neck, I'm reminded that spiritual truth is not detected with the head.  Perhaps, like a disoriented  winch operator who assumed that if a few wraps are good more is better.  I have allowed myself to assume that if a little mental effort is required, more is better.  But spiritual truth is not intellectually discerned.

"I bet God's spiritual proof is stuck in an overlap around my mental winch."  The mind, like a winch, is meant only to assist.  While the intellect is a necessary aid in spiritual pursuits, it is not well suited to the discovery of spiritual reality.  Of course it would be unhelpful to completely sweep all mental and emotional perception overboard hoping to see with spiritual eyes, or hear with spiritual ears.  Jesus holds to a necessary discernment balance.  Only spiritual ears can hear, and only spiritual eyes can see, that which the heart alone can understand.

How then do I "ease" my mental/emotional sheets enough to recognise the spiritual proof I am so confident God wants me to hear and see, along with all of humanity?  How do I pursue less with a determined mind and more with an open heart?

There remains a fair amount of maneuvering between here and Chubasco's new slip assignment.  
"After all Chubby, we are almost there."  

Chapter Eight, SPIRIT ON THE SAIL

SPIRIT ON THE SAIL

Chapter Eight

Risky Decision

It is decision time…continue on to the SD buoy, free of the kelp forests, or take a short cut, weaving  through its outstretched fringes.  Entering the channel from the SD buoy will take two and one half miles further south, before we can turn north into the San Diego Bay channel.  The other option is to enter the channel at its midpoint by cut through the relatively narrow bands of kelp between here and there.  While not as safe, it could save a half hour.  The first time I tried it, I had a seasoned surfer as a crewman on the bow, pointing the way.  We twisted through the mess un-snared.  Surely, Chubasco and I can do it solo.

"Chubby, here's what I'm thinking.  Even if we break through the kelp, your keel and rudder may foul with some stipes.  Dragging even a small portion will really slow us down."(The kelp stocks, called “stipes" are attached to the ocean floor can be over one hundred feet long, with leaves averaging four inches and a foot long called blades.)

Today’s solid breeze promises the maneuverability and power needed to dodge the thicker patches or push through if we must.  With bad weather merely on us, reducing our arrival time is a major consideration.  

Besides, this close to the channel a distress call, though extremely undesirable, could be used to bail us out, if needed.  However, a charter-boat captain guilty of bad judgement needs to look for another carrier.  A quick conscience check assures me that confronted with the facts before me I'm doing the right thing for a very good reason.  The price is high if wrong, but the risk is low, and beating the coming storm is a worthwhile reword.  It seems reasonable, with God approval, to take such a low risk gamble.  

 “OK that settles it.  Let the games begin!”

With a turn of the wheel and the adjustment of the sails, I point Chubasco’s bow toward the midpoint of the channel.  My target is a “can buoy,” a mile and a half on the other side of the kelp hazard.  (“Can Buoys” are the green buoys marking a channel’s boundary.  An inbound vessel leaves “Cans” on their left side.)  I plan to enter the channel there, much like an off-road vehicle might take a shortcut through a thick patch of undergrowth to get on a highway…but this is legal and the undergrowth is rooted three fathoms below.

As a swell lifts Chubasco, I detect patterns in the gray-green mat floating on the surface ahead.  Dropping back down in the trough that follows, I plan our approach.  Another lifting swell confirms our line of attack.  Veering slightly to port, we hold steady until Chubasco’s beam is alongside the first narrow patch of mat.  “Now, hard to starboard!”  Running inside that tangle of blades and just this side of the next, we prepare to split two patches with a hard turn, again to port.  Plowing through that opening, the next swell reveals more patterns in the maze.  A narrow stretch of uncluttered water separating parallel mattes provides a corridor leading to another little brake, about two boat links ahead.  “Steady, steady, steady, now!”  Reaching along that gnarled mass, a clearing appears in the direction of the green-can, and we shoot for it.  “Oh, that’s no clearing!”  A quick downwind sail adjustment and we slide free with a heavy swing of the wheel.  Tightening the sail again moves us back to starboard, we ride the next swell past more would be hitchhiking stipes.  Having spoiled their chances to catch a ride, one disappointed blade flips over in our wake, as if to give us the finger as we speed bye.

 “Yahoo, this is fun!  OK, Chubby, here comes another tiny passage.  Go!” 

We continue darting back and forth in the general direction of the can.  What a thrill.  As we enter the channel at last, I feel as if we
crossed a marathon finish line.  Looking over the transom, I note that there is not a single stipe trailing in our wake.  I cannot help shouting, “Chubasco, we did it!”  

.

Motivated by a Vision  

What a privilege being a charter boat captain.  Here inside the channel with the picturesque lighthouse now on our port beam and the ragged tips of a rock jetty on our starboard, we reenter waters subject to the U.S. Inland Rules of Navigation.  While sailing offshore, a moment ago, we were outside the demarcation line separating two different navigational jurisdictions.  Offshore traffic follows the International Navigation Rules, while inshore traffic abides by the United States Inland Rules. 

Thinking back over how I, a landlocked Midwesterner, ever qualified for such a profession, takes me back to the age of sixteen.  It started with operating the family ski-boat on weekends during the summer.  Later the sailboat became my favorite weekend pastime.  By the time I joined Seaforth at fifty-nine, I had accumulated two hundred eighty-seven documented days at sea.  However, none of the required 365 days were in the ocean, and 90 of those had to be in the ocean.  Here in San Diego, with an income insufficient to purchase or even rent a boat, sailing professionally was unimaginable.

Without a doubt, I owe my charter-boat carrier to the owner of Seaforth Boat Rentals, Andy Kurtz.  That remarkable man's probing wit habitually discovers the best and the worst in everyone in comes in contact with.  Well known for is heroic honesty, generous nature, and sincere compassion he runs his multimillion dollar corporation with the jubilant good nature of a man on vacation.  Even though his belief-system has no room for god, he sparkles with the visible attributes of God.  

Noticing my passion for sailing, Andy secretly instructed Jeton, the manager, to give me a tour of the local Maritime Institute, a school specializing in training mariners to become licensed boat captains.

Upon returning from the tour, I overheard Andy ask Jeton how it went.  Quoting my summation, Jeton reported, “John said, ‘It gives the idea of becoming a licensed captain a sense of reality.’”  I heard Andy responded, “That’s what I hoped.”  Andy, through Jeton, went out of his way to turn my daydream into a vision and it worked.

Unable to afford the institute's tuition of immediately started logging ocean-time on Andy’s boats, while studying for the written exam.  It took about three years to reach that goal. But being a novice, I did not realize I actually needed a coach to master the navigation section of the test.  

After failing the navigation exam a third time, I knew I needed the help of an expert.  Upon returning from the Long Beach test facility near LA., I drove right passed my home and went straight to the Maritime Institute.  Unapologetically and unannounced I walked past the secretary into the office of the institute’s president.  Expressing my frustration, I pleaded with him to explain what I was doing wrong.  By the way, “Rags” is the president’s nickname, derived from the Navigation Rules and Regulations, which is often referred to as RAGS.  Instead of dismissing my interruption saying, “Dude, this is a business.  We teach for a living here.  Take a class.  I’m a busy man.”  To the contrary, Rags stopped what he was doing, rolled his chair away from his desk, and took a half-hour, right there in his office, explaining the institute’s approach to solving the otherwise elusive nuance stumping me.  Applying the institute's approach, I passed my next attempt with flying-colors. 

Just as I rely on the direction of the Holy Spirit in deciding to take Chubasco through the kelp, I witnessed Andy, Jeton, or Rags perhaps without consciously acknowledging any divine source, spontaneously respond to the same Spirit directing me.  They were, I believe, choosing to follow a light, a voice, a force beyond the authority of pure human self-interest to assist fellow sailor in need.  God, exercised His authority over circumstances and human nature, including my own nature, granted me favor with those key men. 

"Chubasco, that is what the Bible means when it exhorts us to have faith in God's word.  I will be forever grateful to those three guys, and their sensitivity to the unacknowledged Spirit of God speaking within them."

Startled by the view ahead, my serene nostalgia suddenly shifts to an intense present focus.  There is anything but peace in the normally calm bay of San Diego at this moment.  Crazy winds dropping from Point Loma's cliffs above fall furiously on the water below, creating so many foaming crisscross patterns that it looks like a monstrous hungry whirlwind was waiting to eat our lunch.  Evaluating the evidence, I feel compelled to comfort Chubasco.  “OK girl, stay calm.  It looks like the wind is going to be, more playful than usual in there, today.”  I am pleased Chubasco was not with me the day fluctuating winds, like those we are facing, nearly took my life.  Setting that memory aside, I quickly check the rigging, and quietly breathe a prayer…“I’m ready Lord.”