Starting From Idleness

In Herman Melville’s Moby Dick, there is an intense scene where Captain Ahab’s whaling boat presses through a churning sea in pursuit of the great white whale, Moby Dick. One can almost smell the salt air and feel the ocean spray as Melville describes the chase. For the sailors onboard at that moment, nothing else exists apart from the pounding waves, violent winds and the great sea monster beneath the water.

Bulging muscles are taunt and determined minds are irrevocably resolved to do whatever necessary to triumph in this cosmic battle between good and evil. The swells of the ocean waves lift the whaleboat high above the water’s surface, only to slam it back down again. But the morally outraged Captain Ahab will not give up. Everything that matters is in the balance at this moment. No energy or determination can be spared. The boat may break apart, but to forfeit the fight is out of the question.  The demon beneath must be destroyed. As Eugene Peterson notes:

"In this boat, however, there is one man who does nothing. He doesn’t hold an oar; he doesn’t perspire; he doesn’t shout. He is languid in the crash and cursing. This man is the harpooner, quiet and poised, waiting. And then this sentence: “To insure the greatest efficiency in the dart, the harpooners of this world must start to their feet out of idleness, and not out of toil.”

Nobody would dispute that a cosmic battle exists today between the forces of good and evil. We see this struggle on the sea of humanity in every culture of the world.  Pastors and churches urge us to not give up the ship, but to labor on, to fight at all costs to ensure victory. Recruiters appeal to our sense of what is moral and right to enlist us in the struggle.

Every Sunday in churches across the world, sincere Christians rededicate themselves with a renewed determination to become more involved and consistent in the battle against evil. Their hearts are in the right place. They feel the need to do something, but where can they be most effective in the boat?

The majority are determined to become better oarsmen who will work harder. A few are sure they sense the calling of Captain Ahab on their lives. They express their intent to attend a religious naval academy where they can learn to be the skipper of their own boat. They want to lead other sailors and together conquer the demon of the depths. . . . thus goes contemporary church life in the world today.

The problem isn’t that there’s something wrong in the scenario described, but that something is  missing. Where are the harpooners of the 21st century church?  How are we supposed to overcome the demons of the depths?  In many instances, we often don’t even know how to strike a death blow against the carnality of our own behavior, much less admonish others about theirs or lead others like ourselves into battle. Note Melville’s statement again: “To insure the greatest efficiency in the dart, the harpooners of this world must start to their feet out of idleness, and not out of toil.”

Idleness? When a violent storm is raging; when our enemy is so close that our very lives are in danger; when everybody else around us is frantic with hyperactivity; idleness is not a natural  response. Yet surely it is indeed to an “idleness” of sorts that we are all called.  For the person who wants to know triumph in the struggle, this idleness is indispensable. Those who are weary with fatigue are in no position to strike the fatal blow against the enemy. It is in a certain idleness that we find our strength. It is the spiritual practice of sitting still, silently staring into our Father's face. It is from that place that we find the strength we need to face the tasks life presents. It is from that place that we move into action out of supernatural power. Indeed, it is from that place that we find our very identity and destiny for time and eternity.