The Atoms of Democritus

And Newton’s Particles of light

Are but sands upon the Red sea shore

Where Israel’s tents do shine so bright.

-William Blake

There is a great irony about Christianity that defies the efforts of the most penetrating minds to unravel it.  This paradox is evident in the apparent ease with which the followers of Jesus move mountains, followed almost immediately by the difficulty they encounter at the simplest and most obvious things.  Why was it that David could successfully wage an extended guerilla war with King Saul, leading six hundred men through danger and hardship and intrigue in pursuit of his mortal enemy and in achievement of lasting fame for their exploits; only to falter when victory lay within his grasp to slay Saul at the Cave of the Wild Goats?  Why was it that Elijah could throw down with nine hundred and fifty pagan prophets and their belligerent champion Ahab, gleefully mocking their most fervent conjurings and trumping their best efforts with fire from heaven, leading the people in a mass revolt against the false religion and slaughtering all its constituents; but then fled for his life (and despaired of it) because of an oath Jezebel took on the surety of the same gods he had just triumphed over?  Why was it that Jesus could challenge the religious and political powers of his day and amass a great following because of his miraculous signs and wonders, promising that he would destroy the Temple and rebuild it in three days; yet when predictably he was seized and condemned to die, he did not avail himself of the twelve legions of angels that would instantly have been placed at his disposal?  There was something going on in each of these situations that is obviously more involved than the common-sense solution which would needs have presented itself.

To answer this question we need to think about the story of the Israelites at the Red Sea.  God had called his people out of the land of slavery and on to the land of promise.  Not only did he give them his word through Moses about where they were going, but they had four hundred years of tradition to inform their purpose.  There could have been no doubt in anyone’s mind that they had to go up to the land of Canaan to possess it.  And when God led them through Goshen to Migdol, camping at the shores of the Red Sea itself, there could have been no doubt that they had to cross it.  Faith often comes to such a juncture, where you must conclude that either God has lost it completely or that he is planning a miraculous delivery; no other interpretation will do.  The direction of the Spirit is so purposeful and we receive so many confirmations along the way (pillars of cloud and fire) that try as we might we cannot fool ourselves into thinking that anything about it was coincidental.  We are led to the spot where we must make a decision.

And that decision is different from what we might think.  Strangely enough it is not something intuitive (e.g. what do I feel like doing), nor is it strategic in nature (e.g. how am I going to accomplish what God wants), nor is it a value judgment (e.g. which option best satisfies the decision criteria I have identified).  The decision we have to make is simply whether we are going where God is leading us.  If that is where we are going, we will have to camp at the edge of the sea and wait for God to part it.  If that is not where we are going, we can head to Tarshish or Egypt or wherever else we please, until the Spirit catches up with us.  But it will be one or the other.

Knowing that, one can begin to understand the facility with which the Christian may conquer kingdoms, enforce justice, obtain promises, stop the mouths of lions, quench the power of fire, escape the edge of the sword, be made strong out of weakness, become mighty in war, and put foreign armies to flight.  These heroes of the faith, long held as things enskied and sainted, were merely going the same place Jesus was.  And if they faltered at the gates of Bithynia, it was not for lack of valor; it was because the Spirit of Jesus bade them turn away.

God is the Creator, and we have put on a new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after his image.  If by faith we believe that in God we live and move and have our being, and if we believe that he calls us to follow him in the building of his kingdom, then we will discover that there is a calm that meets us as we follow him, a wake that stills the violence of the elements and calms the raging sea.  It is the gateway to the new world of faith that will transcend reality as we know it (recall Democritus’ Atoms).  It is a passage more clearly marked than any that were encountered in the desert: it is the same walls of water on the right hand and on the left that our fathers passed between.  To go back is certain death; to go to one side or the other is rather foolish; to go forward is at once the most terrifying and the most sensible thing we will ever do in our lives.  But we do not go through alone as Elisha did.  We do not even go through as the Israelites did with Moses stretching out his hand over the sea.  We go as it says in Hebrews, with One going before us who is able to sympathize with our weakness, who is as much greater than Moses as the builder is greater than the house, and who is counted worthy of glory.  In faith let us pass through the Red Sea going where Jesus goes.

Author: Jeremy Vogan

My name is Jeremy Vogan. I live in Staunton, VA with my wife and four kids. I love to write, and seek to honestly explore the intellectual and emotional implications of following Jesus as a deeply broken person in a twisted, cruel world that is full of veiled beauty and meaning. Writing is part of how I faithfully look for Jesus Christ to someday make all things new. I'd enjoy hearing your feedback! JV