Central Abbotsford

Last Sunday, I, along with my dad and my son Alex, travelled to Vancouver Island for the day for Alex’s track and field provincial championships. Even though it was a three-day competition, Alex’s events were both held in the middle of the day on Sunday, so that allowed us to make it a day trip (albeit a pretty long one!). On the trip home, however, I experienced something that I never had before.

Our ferry left Duke Point at about 6:35pm and was scheduled to get us into Tsawwassen about two hours later. It was a beautiful evening, so Alex went up to the sun deck to hang out with his track teammates and look for whales in the water (there were a lot!). My dad and I were sitting at a table near the front of the boat (or the bow, for all of you nautical connoisseurs) chatting, when I realized that we seemed to be sailing into the setting sun, instead of away from it. Given that we were supposed to be heading east, this seemed like an issue.

Just then, an announcement came over the PA system. A distress call had gone out and our ferry was in the region, so we were being called to respond. A few minutes later, sure enough, off the right (I mean, starboard) side of the boat, there was a pleasure craft floating in the open water, seemingly unoccupied. We did a circle around the area for a few minutes, and then the captain came over the PA to announce that the Coast Guard had arrived in the area and we were being discharged back to our route.

Now, I didn’t see anything in the news about it, so I am hopeful that this was just an incident of a boat coming unmoored and another boater becoming concerned upon seeing it floating around empty in the middle of the Strait of Georgia. However, when I was trying to find out more information about it, I learned that in an average year, BC Ferries’ vessels respond to about 125 similar situations, ranging from providing visual confirmation of a situation (which is I think what happened on Sunday), to rescuing people from the water.

Reflecting on this a few days later, the picture of the ferry’s response was an interesting one. Travelling on a summer Sunday evening, I’m sure that our boat was at or near its capacity of 300 vehicles and 1500 people, while the boat that we responded to was designed to hold about five or six people. Most of those 1500 people (myself included) were eager to get the crossing complete so they could continue their journey home after a busy summer weekend. Yet, I am sure that very few people complained about the extra 20-25 minutes that our diversion took. Why? Under what circumstances is it practical for a big ferry to inconvenience thousands of people just trying to get home?

Or maybe, just maybe, the questions of “practicality” and “convenience” are not the first ones that should come to mind, in this, or many other situations. I say this as someone who highly values both of these things, and defaults to them myself! But I am convinced this is a reflex of my fallen nature and not my redeemed nature.

The Scriptures and Christian history abound with stories of those who “inconvenienced” themselves to do what was not “practical”. The parable of the Good Samaritan teaches us this very point. The early church grew through the public preaching by a group of largely uneducated men. The apostles, and many after them, were martyred for their faith. Countless stories of missionaries begin with well-meaning friends, family, and even pastors trying to dissuade them from embarking on the calling that they are sure God has placed on their lives. Ultimately, the central hub of the faith is the greatest story of inconvenience and impracticality of all time – Christ bearing the cross for the sake of saving sinners.

The ferry does not go out of its way because it’s practical to do so. It does it because of the value at the other end. If there is a life that needs to be saved, if there is a person in need of rescue, then it is worth an inconvenience to attend to it.

So it should be with the church. As much as I (and many of us) value a “smooth” church service, where everything happens as planned, and we get to visit and enjoy one another and worship unimpeded, sometimes there are distress calls that interrupt the regular flow. Someone going through a time of crisis. A visitor who struggles with social norms but knows that a church is supposed to be a safe space. Even, dare I say it, kids being loud during a Family Service.

So, when we come to gather on Saturday nights, let us do so in the hope that all will go as usual, but with the knowledge (and even the expectation) that we may be called on that week to attend to a “distress call”, and that the reason we do so is, just like the ferry, there is in all likelihood someone of great value who needs our presence. You might not be the best-trained person, the circumstances are certainly going to be less than ideal, but you are there, and if you are in Christ, you have His indwelling Spirit to provide you what you need in that moment – so trust Him and recognize that He just might be giving you an opportunity to be His church.

In His holy name,
Eric