Carapace Catechesis

August 2013 Newsletter Column
Carapace Catechesis

Three weeks ago Lily and I were out of town celebrating our fifth anniversary.  During our absence there was something of a crisis in the parsonage.  Our turtle, Fitz, escaped.  Fortunately, his time on the lam was short-lived and he managed to survive his adventures intact.  As unlikely as it might seem, there is much that this event can teach us about living the Christian life.

Fitz is a red eared slider.  When Lily purchased him a decade ago he was the size of a Kennedy fifty cent piece.  As a result he was dubbed Fitzgerald, Fitz for short.  In that period of time he has had a steady supply of food, a secure environment and more affection than any reptile ever has the right to expect.  This is much the way God provides for us.  By the standards of our universe we human beings are tiny and insignificant.  Despite our finitude, God provides for our daily needs, protects us and loves us in ways that we do not deserve.

Like the turtle, we were provided with clear boundaries within which we can most fully enjoy the life we have been given.  For Fitz, those boundaries are defined by the glass walls of an aquarium.  For human beings, the teachings of Scripture provide the boundaries inside of which we can find true freedom, joy and peace.

Despite years of happiness and love, Fitz eventually found his glass enclosure too restrictive.  The outside world was just on the other side, beckoning to him.  He tried to resist.  He tried to make peace with his life in the kingdom he had been given.  Finally, the temptation was too great.  He had to see what was on the other side.  In a burst of self confidence he climbed to the edge of his world.  He sat on the boundary that had provided him security for so long.  He briefly hesitated.  He looked out at the world sitting just on the other side.  Deciding he needed to spread his wings and fly, he glanced back at the world he had known and then leaped with joy into the unknown.

For a brief, exhilarating moment he was freer than he had ever been.  He felt the air rushing over his skin.  He felt the liberation of flight for the first time in his life.  Never before had he experienced anything like this.  It was pure ecstasy.  It was unlike anything he had ever felt back behind those restrictive glass walls.  For that moment he was happier than any turtle had ever been.

That was until he encountered the reality of turtle aerodynamics.  For reasons known only to God, some dinosaurs evolved into feathered birds.  Others evolved into hard shelled swamp dwellers.  Fitz had forgotten which side of the family tree he had come from.  The four feet from the top of the tank to the hard wood floor was far as he would ever fly.  He landed with a thud, cursed his luck, and immediately regretted his decision to step outside of the boundaries that had been set for him.  He stared longingly back at the place where he had been safe and cared for.  Unfortunately there was no way back.  He had to take his wounded pride and aching body and try to make a way in the new world in which he found himself.

Sadly, he was not equipped for this new world.  His new world was inhabited by cats, devoid of water and food was nowhere to be found.  In desperation he wandered the parsonage looking for something familiar.  He tried room after room.  He checked under furniture and behind corners.  He found cat bowls filled with water, but they were not big enough to swim in.  He grew drier and drier, hungrier and hungrier.  In exhaustion and frustration he kept on trudging hoping that somehow he would find his way home.  Eventually he found himself at the far end of the house in a room he had never seen.  There he gave up and waited for the doom he felt closing in around him.

It was then that the vaguely trinitarian metaphor of Gary Williams, Eric Basham and Larry Thompson came into his life.  After Fitz’s absence was noticed by pet sitters and air conditioner repairmen, they searched high and low for the one that was lost.  Unwilling to abandon him to his wandering, they checked in closets, searched under furniture until they found him and returned him to the place where he belonged.  While his stem brain will never allow him to process it, Fitz experienced grace first hand that day.

Although this column is obviously written firmly tongue in cheek, the truth of the matter is that we human beings are just as willing to step beyond the boundaries of what is good for us.  Rather than stay where God has placed us, we see the world “out there” and try to fly on our own.  We attempt to live only for our self-gratification and enjoyment.  It is a lot of fun, for a moment.  Usually we get about as far as Fitz.  Then we crash down and find ourselves wounded, lost and alone in an alien environment.  We wander and wander farther from our true selves until many of us give up in desperation and shame.

It is only when we are found by God’s own Son that we are lifted back into the place we should be.  Sometimes, like the turtle, when picked up we do a bit of hissing and scratching.  Despite our protests and illegitimate self-confidence, Jesus Christ does not give up on us.  No matter what we are going through he provides us a second (or third, or fourth) chance to experience the Kingdom of God first hand.  It is my prayer this week that we will all learn from Fitz’s self-destructive tendencies and allow ourselves to be found, picked up and restored once more.