Have you enjoyed watching the Winter Olympics? Isn’t it amazing what those skaters and the skiers can do? Isn’t it astounding that human bodies can plummet down slopes and whiz through channels at what seems like supersonic speed? I’ve only seen snatches of the Olympics, but I’ve thoroughly enjoyed all I have seen. And I’ve learned some things too.
First I learned what a luge is. I learned that a luge is not a distasteful vegetable! It is not a heavy-footed dance step! I learned that a luge is a particular kind of sled!
After I learned what a luge is, then I found out about the biathlon. As I understand it, to compete in the biathlon, you have to ski cross country, most of it uphill, and then, while your heart and lungs are screaming for mercy, you are supposed to pull your rifle out and squeeze off several rounds at various targets, all within a very short time and in various postures. The biathlon is one of those events that seems just about impossible. The obstacles are too great, the challenges are too difficult, the timing is too short … it just doesn’t seem possible.
And yet there are people who do it and who do it well. I understand that it developed out of the experiences of border patrols protecting the boundary between Sweden and Norway when the Nazis occupied Norway. Out of that history the biathlon was born.
Necessity is the mother of invention, they say; and a little deeper than that, the desire to accomplish something important, the need to protect something valuable: that can motivate you, even when the obstacles are great.
I expect most of us have had the experience of facing an insurmountable barrier to something we wanted to do. Probably you’ve had those times in your life when you wanted to get on with it, but everything seemed to be stacked against you: too much work to do, too many conflicts in the family, too many bills to pay, too much to do all at once. Do you know what that feels like? I expect it feels something like drowning. You just feel engulfed, taken over, by all kinds of things. Too much! "Stop the world, I want to get off!" And you think you will just about drown.
I remember feeling that way several years ago. I remember getting a letter from my supervisor in which he pushed me to meet another one of his goals -- not my goals, mind you, but his goals. He reminded me that I was still not up to par on the last eight or ten such letters. It felt overwhelming.
And as I sat and read and re-read that letter that afternoon, I began to add up the stresses. I thought about the stack of bills on my desk at home, and how I had used up what little savings we had to try to cover those. I thought about the degree program I was trying to finish, and all the deadlines that were just accumulating, one right after another. I thought about a wife and little children at home, depending on me not only for financial support but also for emotional and spiritual support. When I added it up, I just collapsed. I just came apart.
Literally what I did that afternoon was to get in my car and go driving, all afternoon and much of the night. I could not then nor can I now tell you where I went or what I did … it’s all a blank. By the time I did get home, my wife had everybody but the FBI looking for me. I just disappeared and have no memory of about twelve or fourteen hours of that day. I overloaded. I was overwhelmed. Too much.
That and worse is what can happen when the barriers seem too big and the obstacles seem too high.
Imagine, then, how Joshua felt when he and the people of Israel got to the River Jordan, which they had to cross in order to get to the land of promise. The people had been traveling through the wilderness for a generation; under the leadership of Moses they had endured hunger and thirst, heat and cold, rebellions and recriminations.
They were tired. They were just plain tired. They were exhausted. Too long, too much, too hard, too frustrating. And now, one more river to cross. The River Jordan, standing between them and the land of promise. I can hear them now sighing and groaning and looking at all that water: one more river to cross. How do we get over? And I’m sure their leader, Joshua, felt the same way.
I
There’s something about that River Jordan, however, that you would not guess just from reading the text of the Scriptures. There is a little secret about that river.
How wide was the Jordan River? How big is it? Well, we have all these songs, wonderful songs: “Roll, Jordan, Roll”, "Deep River, My soul is over Jordan". And there’s the one that says, "The River Jordan is deep and wide.” But guess what!?
It’s not. It’s not deep and wide. It’s shallow and narrow. It’s not a deep river, it’s a dinky little stream. It is no mighty Mississippi, no powerful Potomac. It is just a minor stream which does on occasion overflow its banks, but which is normally pretty unimpressive.
In fact, a number of months ago Hugh and Marilyn Brown went on a trip to Israel, and they brought back this tiny little vial of Jordan River water and gave it to me. Hugh said, “You can use this in baptisms." I told him there wasn’t enough water there to sprinkle an Episcopalian, much less immerse a Baptist believer! But I guess the reason is that there is so little water in the river Jordan they can’t let you take it out by the gallon, just the tiny little bottle! It’s not much. It’s not too much.
And yet to Israel it might as well have been the Amazon. It looked uncrossable. It Iooked as though it was a tidal wave of water no human being could expect to get over. On the other side there was the land which God had promised. How would we get over? It looked like too much.
You see, the truth is that any obstacle looks bad when you are running. Any barrier looks insurmountable when you have done nothing all your life but solve the unsolvable. If you don’t know or you can’t see that the same God who has brought you this far has a plan for this problem too …well, then, you dissolve into despair. Just one more river to cross. How are we going to get over?
I think about the poor. There is all around us a group of people who have lived a hand-to-mouth existence all their lives. They have eaten today what they earned yesterday, and tomorrow is another day, just one more mouth to feed and one more river to cross. Desperation.
And sometimes you and I in our middle-class righteousness wonder why a man is on the streets or a woman sits in the cold, all for want of only one rent payment or only one utility bill. But, you see, if you have been in the wilderness for a generation or so, and all you have done is fight the survival battle, sometimes you hit the river Jordan. And even though to somebody else it seems like a dinky little stream you ought to be able to handle, to you it seems impassable. To somebody else it seems as though you ought to be able to handle your own problems, especially just a little problem, but to you suddenly it ‘s just too much. Too much.
I’m saying that the one thing you have to know at a time like that is that God does have a plan. God does have plans to get you over.
II
And so God’s plan to get the people over went something like this: Take the people to the brink of the river Jordan, and then let the priests, who carry the ark of the covenant, stand still in the waters of the Jordan. “When the soles of the feet of the priests who bear the ark of the Lord … rest in the waters of the Jordan, the waters flowing from above shall be cut off.”
You know the story. You know what is going to happen. You know that in a little while the people of Israel are going to walk across as if it were all dry land. No fuss, no muss. But had you ever noticed this part? The priests, God’s witnesses, those who carry the ark, the very symbol of Gods presence … the spiritually mature … they are to go first. The priests are to wade in the water. They don’t get to wait until the problem is solved. They have to take the risk of getting their feet wet before God will work. Somebody has to take the risk.
Oh, Christian men and women, there is something here that you and I have to pay close attention to. Christians are called by our God to be His shock troops. Christians are called of God to go into the dangerous places first, before the problem gets solved. We are called to take risks, because that is the way God will get His people over. God will get His people over when those who are mature, those who are leaders, those who are spiritual, are ready to take the risk and make the commitment, even at danger to themselves. Christians have to get their feet wet before anybody else can be saved.
Time will not allow me to spin out for you all the ways in which this idea can be applied. I cannot take the time to explain that if the public schools are to be saved, it will be because Christian teachers choose to teach in them and Christian families send their children to them.
I cannot go into detail to insist, as I might like, that politics and government will never be reclaimed from the sleaze mongers until Christian men and women of integrity enter political life.
Nor, even though it is Black History Month, would I dare to spend any time on reminding white Christians that it need not be patronizing or do-goodish to get involved in equal opportunity issues. And if would not dare do that, surely I would double not dare to remind Black Christians how you got over. Somebody stepped out of line for you. Rosa Parks got you over by refusing to toe the line in the bus. Martin Luther King got you over by going to the Birmingham jail cell. Scores of others got you over by breaking unjust laws and getting fired from their jobs and facing the lynch mobs.
That’s how we got over: because someone stepped into the too much; somebody stepped into the moving, rushing waters of the River Jordan and took a risk. That’s how God’s plan always starts. Leaders, believers, mature Christians, who will take the risk and stand in the deep water, first. You’ve come this far by faith, leaning on the everlasting arms. Now lead somebody else on to the dry ground.
III
Now, watch: the people of Israel crossed over. On dry ground they crossed over opposite Jericho. And they occupied the land which the Lord gave them. Following God’s man Joshua they got over.
Centuries later to the banks of the River Jordan came another Joshua. His name we pronounce a little differently. But it is the same name. "Jesus" It means, “God saves.” Clearly the writers of the Bible wanted you to see, as Jesus comes to the River Jordan, the parallel with Joshua coming to the River Jordan some twelve centuries earlier.
When Jesus comes to the River Jordan, he comes to be immersed. He comes to be washed in a very special kind of way. We call it baptism. And it also has to do with getting over.
You see, friends, there is an insurmountable obstacle in every person’s life journey. There is an impassable boundary in every person’s experience. It’s called sin. Sin is the "too much" we all have. Sin and guilt and fear and shame and anxiety. It’s that feeling we have about ourselves that says, “You’re not good enough. You’ve made a mistake, a big mistake. In fact you’ve made a lot of mistakes. And you cannot solve them yourself. They’re too much.”
It’s a new current, maybe, but it’s a very ancient river. It’s as new as that anxiety you have about staring Monday morning in the face; but it is the ancient river of sin and guilt and fear and anxiety.
And just as some twenty-plus years ago I personally felt so much a failure and so washed up and so overwhelmed that I just ran, knowing that I could not tackle the mess I had made of it all … in just that way every one of us comes to a point in our lives when we have to say, "One more river to cross, and I can’t do it. I can’t do it. I can’t carry this burden of guilt one more day. I can’t bear this anxiety any longer. I can’t handle this vague, nameless fear, this fear that I am going to fail … I can’t do it any more. Too much."
And when that day comes, when we come to our own personal River Jordan and, even though somebody else might think it’s no big deal, it is a big deal to us … when that day comes and we think we’ll never get over, then that is the day when the one named Jesus steps into the River Jordan ahead of us. Jesus shows us the way. That is the day when, if you see Jesus and trust Him as the pioneer of your faith, and you see him being baptized …that is the day when you will know that he is going before you, he is taking the risks you are afraid to take. He is making a way for you. He is going to get you over.
Jesus in the River Jordan, being baptized, going through an act of repentance, even though in His purity He does not need to repent ... Jesus is saying, Look, I am taking the risks for you. You are afraid to fail; I’ll go out here where people drown, and I’ll take that risk. You are afraid to die; I’ll die for you and I’ll take that risk. You are afraid, and overwhelmed, and guilty and troubled. I will go into the River Jordan. I will go into life’s obstacles. I will go into the too much. I will get you over.
How do we get over? We get over because Jesus Christ makes a way. Jesus Christ, standing at the River Jordan, facing His own life and subsequent death, carries in Himself the hopes and dreams of all who will trust in Him. We get over because Jesus Christ makes a way.
How do we get over? We get over because Jesus Christ wades into the murky waters of our sin and our helplessness, and cleanses us from all sin. For whoever believes and trusts in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life. We get over because Jesus Christ makes a way.
I remember one time taking students to a retreat up at Hilltop Ranch in northeastern Maryland. It was close to the end of the month. I didn’t have a lot of cash to spare. I took what I thought I would need, but I didn’t know about one thing: that the bridge over the Susquehanna River up that way is a toll road. After I’d paid the dollar to go to Hilltop, I had only forty cents to come home on. So I decided I’d drive home on the old two-lane highway and take the old bridge. But guess what? Even the old bridge over the Susquehanna River costs fifty cents. Too much!
So I drove sheepishly up to the tollgate and fumbled around in my pockets, hoping to find a stray dime. I finally had to say to the gatekeeper, "All I have is forty cents. He looked at me for a moment, then looked over his shoulder as if to make sure no· one else saw him. He reached into his own pocket and brought out one shiny dime. "Go ahead and cross the river. It’s taken care of."
Go ahead and cross the river. Grace is greater than all our sin. Go ahead and cross the river; Jesus paid it all. Go ahead and cross the River. It’s taken care of. That’s how we get over.
