swoosh!

Whoever believes will not be in haste.
Isaiah 28:16


As I grew up in the sixties, I watched it every week for three years.

Every week the starship Enterprise swooshed by in the opening credits of a series we simply wouldn’t miss for anything. I remember trying to guess which spot of light would become the ship blasting by at warp speed. And now I can’t think of a more appropriate image for the accelerating pace of our daily lives. It’s the first image that came to mind as I stumbled across this old friend in Isaiah 28:16 – “Whoever believes will not be in haste.”

Hama’amim lo yachish.

At least that’s something like how the Hebrew would sound. And it’s not only foreign in sound but it’s foreign in concept for us culturally.

The Hebrew verb translated “be in haste” or “make haste” is chush, with the “ch” pronounced like the “ch” in “Bach” (a guttural “h”) and the “u” long, so it’s choosh. And I go to all that trouble just because it’s an onomatopoetic word – a word whose sound imitates that which it represents, which is approximately the sound of an arrow or bullet or any other object flying fast right past your ear. Choosh. Swoosh.

Okay, so what?

Well, what strikes me yet again is the settled, peaceful, calm stance of the one who trusts in the Lord. The Lord has laid the foundation in Zion, a stone, a tested stone, a precious cornerstone, of a sure foundation. And when we truly trust in him, we are settled there. No panic, no rushing about, no running after this or that, no racing. No swooshing.

Reading Isaiah 18-28 in one setting this past week, my mind immediately connected “whoever believes will not be in haste” with this description of a panicked Jerusalem facing catastrophe and looking to the armory, to the walls, at the infrastructure and supplies, but not finally seeing what matters most:

In that day you looked to the weapons of the House of the Forest, and you saw that the breaches of the city of David were many. You collected the waters of the lower pool, and you counted the houses of Jerusalem, and you broke down the houses to fortify the wall. You made a reservoir between the two walls for the water of the old pool. But you did not look to him who did it, or see him who planned it long ago. Isaiah 22:9-11

There certainly is a balance between prayer and action, but in my experience we put the premium on action backed by prayer (when we have time) rather than the reverse. The result is that rather than offering a different speed, a different way of doing life as the people of God, we end up swooshing just like the rest of the culture. People in a frenzy. Government in a tizzy. Church in a whirlwind of the latest Herculean effort.

Phil Vischer in his book, Me, Myself, and Bob, in describing the rise of Big Idea Ministries and VeggieTales, says that it was a Herculean effort to start his ministry/business. That was understandable. The trouble was, everything became a Herculean effort. It became a way of life. Soon he found himself in the hospital with pericarditis. The year after that he contracted strep throat. The year after that, shingles. He writes, “All stress related, the results of an increasingly maniacal schedule that had me bouncing between press interviews, speaking engagements, and endless meetings with animators, marketers, licensors, architects, and designers. My days were now scheduled down to fifteen-minute increments. Even the tasks I should have enjoyed – the creative writing projects or strategy sessions – were no longer fun. Big Idea was now creating toys, books, greeting cards – you name it. Exactly what I had wanted. But my time was so stretched now that the only projects I could handle personally were the videos themselves, and even those I only did by locking myself away in a nearby hotel for intense two-day writing marathons characterized more by stress than joy. And the strategy sessions with my executive team, sessions that sounded so fun going in, were routinely devolving into extended and unresolved arguments.”

I think the point here is simple.

Stop swooshing as a way of life.

Don’t even think about demolishing your home to fill the breaches in the wall.

And before you start counting arms or gathering pools…stop.

Breathe.

Remember that he holds everything together by the word of his power – not by the strength or skill or persistence of our Herculean efforts.

And then spend some time watching birds that don’t sow or reap, and wildflowers that don’t hustle through the mall looking for the latest fashions. Somehow, they end up doing just fine. The Father feeds and clothes – somehow.

Sitting with a gal this past week as she talked about frantically trying to get a hold of herself and find out where God really is in her life, I suggested she stop struggling so, and picture herself already in the flow of the river that is God – what we call the kingdom of God. She immediately remembered an incident when she was twelve and on the diving team. She tried a new highly convoluted dive that left her disoriented when she entered the water. She always found her bearings by finding the bottom and then knowing which way to go up. But she couldn’t find the bottom. She panicked and thrashed until she remembered a basic lesson in swimming: if you don’t know where you are, stop, and your lungs will carry you to the surface. So she did just that. She stopped. And she rose.

I told her that was a mighty fine sermon she just preached for herself.

Mighty fine one for us too.