What are we afraid of?

I attended a high school retreat this past weekend. I was one of 5 adults leading about 35 students in prayer and worship, as well as simply enjoying life away from the hustle and bustle of our daily, busy lives. The weather was spectacular, considering we were in Northern Minnesota and the temperature was in the mid-50s.

The teaching was done by Aaron Markson, the worship leader at a new church in Hudson, Wisconsin called Sanctuary.
http://sanctuaryhudson.com/site/start.html

Aaron presented an interesting perspective on John 5:1-11, which is the story of a paralyzed man at a healing pool. I've often looked at this story from the angle of Jesus' healing, or of the criticism directed toward Jesus because he chose to heal on the Sabbath. Aaron took this on a different path, and I wanted to share it with you.

If you look at the passage, Jesus asks the man "if he wants to be healed." What was interesting is that the man didn't say yes. Instead he made an excuse about not being able to get to the pool while it was stirred (which is when it had more restorative powers). Jesus didn't ask him what was preventing him from entering the pool, nor did he ask if he wanted a hand to get to the pool. He asked the man if he wanted to be healed.

Why wouldn't the man simply say yes? In this case, the man had been paralyzed for 38 years, and though Scripture doesn't say his age, we can safely assume this was most or all of his life. He had grown accustomed to his life as an invalid, which included begging for food and shelter, and anything he may have needed. It seemed to me that he would want a life that was easier, having the ability to make a living, earn money so he could provide for himself, maybe even help others. But the man didn't say yes...why?

Aaron suggested that this new freedom also presented a dilemma for the man. If he was now able to walk, it would be less acceptable to be a beggar. He would now be expected to earn his own money, buy his own food - basically become self-sufficient. Maybe this man wasn't ready for that change. Maybe he had grown so comfortable with his current lifestyle that a dramatic change like that provided more questions than answers, and he just wasn't ready for that...

Jesus then told the man to "get up and walk" and the man did so. In effect, Jesus forced his hand.

But I had to ask myself - what am I afraid of? What is holding me back from a life with God? Am I afraid God is going to ask me to change my life - and is that a good thing or not?

I've definitely grown comfortable with my life, though I never seem to have enough money or stuff to satisfy my wants. As such, I'm afraid to leave this life, afraid to give it away so I can have a life completely dedicated to Christ.

And there are other considerations as well. If He asks me to change my life, how does that impact my family? Will they (willingly) follow me? Is it right to even ask them? There are opportunities to serve, in fact one that was presented literally 10 minutes ago. While that it still voluntary and not a change in career, it's another sign to me God is calling and testing me, trying to determine if I am ready, willing and able.

I know the answer to most of this. I know that comfort causes people to take fewer risks. I know that by not taking risks, I can no longer grow. And I also know if I no longer grow, that atrophy will set in. And of course, once atrophy sets in, death soon follows. I know all that.

But I don't act. I wait. Like the man at the pool, when asked why I don't simply do "it" - whatever "it" is - I come up with some lame response about salary, benefits, kids, etc. The reality is, that like the man at the pool, I'm afraid.

Why? God didn't promise me a life without risk. I need look no further than the lives of Jesus, Paul and many others written about in God's word. They lived a full life, a life without regret, even though their lives included great risk.

So, here's my plea to you - take the risk that you know you should. And then, let me know the outcome. You can be my support group as I move closer to the edge, preparing to step in to the pool of uncertainty and risk.