SPIRIT ON THE SAIL
Chapter Six
Belief-System Shift
All of the violent frothy whitecaps have melted into longer waves, which release far less spray in this diminished Fresh Breeze. It's time to shift gears, which means shaking out Chubasco's reefed sails.
I actually giggle as I spin "Chuby" 180° head-to-wind, realizing how easy tying the helm on course is going to be in a steady 20kt breeze.
Without boots since this morning, my socks have dried in the warm air. I'm pleased to leap upon the cabin deck, and snatch all the reef lines out of their grammets, and return to the helm, in one easy operation. Then, with a hearty pull on the halyard, the mainsail flies, almost effortlessly, to the head of the mast. Turning downwind again, I give the job sheet a quick tug, an the foresail is released to its maximum size. The acceleration rocks me back on my heels, as the jib balloons in the breeze. Chubasco is once again dancing in the swells.
Leaning over the side to observe the ballet, I blush, as if intruding on the throbbing embrace of lovers. “Oh, my gosh. That is almost erotic.” Embarrassed, I divert my gaze heavenward. The stratus cloud canopy a few feet above the noiseless ridge of Point Loma peninsula, promises a significant period of stable air.
Screened from the midday glare, the plunging green slope of the peninsula expose every detail of her untamed beauty. Rising naked out of the sea, Point Loma has defied all who wished to tame her. Even the powerful ebb and flow of the Pacific bow at her feet as a conquered foe. The magic of a responsive craft frisking along her unspoiled coast whispers a secret love affair, shared by generations of mariners sailing these ancient waters.
Sadly, the sight reminds me that the splendor of creation is inadequate proof of a Creator. That type of “proof” only impresses those of us whose belief-system includes the possibility of a creator. The failure is not the evidence, but the clash of belief-systems. Systems that exclude the possibility of a designer will always remain unimpressed by apologists insisting that design-in-nature proves the existence of a designer. Today's unbelievers are not asking, “What or Who made the world?” Their question is, “Can you prove God is real?”
Submitting physical evidence to support a spiritual belief, at best, yields no more than implications, speculations, and/or inferences. At worst, it only proves that the Christian apologest has not understood question. A valid proof regarding someone's beliefs must at least address the problem of conflicting belief-systems.
If the disagreement was over divergent mindsets, worldviews, or lifestyles then perhaps citing evidence in nature might address the question. However, the dispute is not over an intellectual attitude, or a particular concept of the world, or the way a person lives, but the belief-system itself. Christianity as a religious belief-system is built on the fundamental proposition that eternal non-substance transformed itself into substantive material reality in the person of Jesus Christ.
Faced with the absurdity of the proposition, which I once laughed at, but now firmly believe straines my puzzled countenance into a squint as I hope to see a solution.
Experience Shapes Believes
Daydreaming gives way to a distant disturbance on the ocean’s surface about a quarter mile off our starboard bow. A churning body of water seems to be making an organized flanking maneuver, coming in our direction. I see no dorsal fins slicing the flow, so it is not dolphins. As the turbulence draws closer, I recognize the puppy-shaped heads of a group of sea lions. The sighting contradicts my belief that seals are solitary hunters. It is so rare that, unlike a pod of dolphins on a hunt, there is no name for a group sea lions hunting together. “What is this…it doesn’t fit the designation of a ‘raft’ of sea lions? Can it really be a sea lion hunting party?”
I have never heard of sea lions cooperatively hunting before. I always considered them too slow and bulky, and lacking the necessary stamina to herd a school of fish into a bait-ball, the way their faster dolphin cousins can. Nevertheless, they are driving an agitated patch of water, about twenty feet in front of them toward us. Diving pelicans dropping into the fleeing ripples, confirm the existence of a school of Sardines or maybe Anchovies.
“Sure enough, those sea lions are hunting.” I'm of the opinion those plodding sea lions have no chance of catch that accelerating mass. “What are those wily sea lions up to?”
The school of fish are being herded on an intercept course with Chubasco's broadside. As the confused school of tiny fish reach us, they slow down, clump up, and plunge beneath the boat, rewarding the seals with a banquet.
“Were we accomplices in a planned strategy, devised by a sea lion hunting party?"
As we sail on by, I fix my gaze on Chubasco’s voluminous mainsail, while sorting through ideas regarding the way that experiences reshapes my beliefs.
I don't know of any evidence to support the conclusion that sea lions hunt in coordinated parties. That conclusion is a mere speculation based on my own personal experience alone. Nevertheless, the experience modified my belief-system.
Is it possible an unexpected piece of the "proving God" puzzle has dropped into place. If the experience of seeing sea lions pack-hunting changed my beleaf-system about sea lions, then it is possible that mechanism is a key to confront a Godless beleaf-system. If so, it's not airtight evidence or a more persuasive argument that I should be looking for, but rather an approach that allows unbelievers a firsthand experience of God themselves.
"Lord, if that is a part of the key how do I facilitate that kind of experience?"
Stay on course, expecting God's
Spirit on the Sail to answer that prayer.
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