The Storm And The Fall

"Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock.

The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock.

And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand.

The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell-- and great was its fall!"

Now when Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes.

Matthew 7:24-29

My wife and I were talking about depression tonight.

When does it come upon a person? What can they do to avoid it?

She mentioned a certain woman who died from diabetes. Her husband became greatly depressed, talked about taking his life, and eventually did take his own life.

Of course there would be no way for us to go inside the man and see his sorrow, but his final act does shed some light on it. Consider the possibilities.

Either:

1) The man was full of joy, but this changed when he lost his wife. He became so sad at her passing that his sadness became unbearable, and so he decided to end this burden by taking his own life.

Or:

2) The man had ceased to live long ago. His wife brought him drama, desire, and distraction. He eventually forgot he already had a foot in the grave. When he lost his wife he lost his ability to forget he was already dead, and so he took his own life.

Let us say the first possibility is the case. If this man had meaning in life only to lose it when his wife left then it follows that meaning in life is a matter of external consequence.

It would follow that the best way to find meaning in life is to learn every means of hanging onto the things one finds valuable as long as possible. Research diabetes. Start government programs to assure oneself that diabetes will almost never take anyone's spouse.

And what kind of certainty can one have of happiness in such a life? If such a grand effort could make such a difference, it would still be a risk. The rest is just a matter of how long it lasted.

Maybe one could enjoy meaning in life for a short while, or perhaps for a longer while.

And what of the certainty of death? Suppose this man was reflectively aware that his wife gave him meaning in life. Would he be unable to realize that she would one day be separated from him, as we all are, in death?

Perhaps he had hoped to hang on to his meaning in life as long as he could. Then when she was taken from him in death he could look back and say, "Surely I have no meaning left in life, but there was a time when it did have meaning. I can go on living because I still remember when my life did have meaning."

Or perhaps he would exit as abruptly as a film watcher who had only hoped to see a certain scene in a movie. Could you see him rising suddenly and walking out in the middle of the movie?

Suppose an employee approached him before he left the building. "But sir, this is the only showing you are permitted to see with this ticket! This is a great insult to the director who gave you this ticket."

"That was the only scene I wanted to see." Perhaps he could have walked right out of the theater. Maybe he could even smile as he did it. But how far down could such a smile go?


The other explanation also remains.

The man may have said to himself (though perhaps in a secretive way): "I hate all this, and myself. The choices that follow, the events, the circumstances, why even fate itself means nothing. I might as well get married, I do not care."

Or he could have said it differently:

"My life means nothing to me. The Bible says that, 'He who findeth a wife findeth a good thing'. I should at least be compensated for having this life that means nothing to me."

Or he could have said it another way:

"I have this intense longing. What I long for I do not know, it escapes me. When I find it I will look at myself in the mirror and say, 'Now my life has importance to me.' Until I find such a thing I might as well get married."

In such a view a person may pursue all kinds of successes and distractions, but the real despair has nothing to do with the success or failure of such efforts. It was there all along.

Consider the one Jesus identifies as the foolish man:

And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand.

The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell-- and great was its fall!

In this parable we hear about a foolish man who built his house on the sand. He was too foolish to avoid building his house upon a rock.

Suppose there were more foolish people afterwords who said, "How sad! This man had an excellent house! The only problem was the outer circumstance: the storm blew it down!"

Christ calls all such talk folly.

The difference between the wise and the foolish man had nothing to do with the ferocity or the mildness of the storm.

The house of the wise man faced the storm and it stood firmly.

The difference between the two houses was not their surroundings. The difference was in that secret place that no one could see. The difference was that hidden thing holding up the house.

The foolish man did not have such a foundation, and so much the worse for every person who looks longingly in life and says, "If only I had a career so that people would respect me," Or, "If only I had a fetching wife who met my desires."

Suppose such a person finds and keeps a career or a wife. Everything seems to hold together, just as the house of the foolish man seemed to hold together.

But then suppose their final day comes. Suppose they look back on their lives and remember, "Ah, yes, there was really nothing more to my career, or to my spouse... my ticket has come up, and I feel I have won nothing."

On the other hand, this conscious realization is sometimes avoided. People die suddenly without recalling anything. Has such a person escaped justice?

I wonder if a person were to build a house on the shore, and, let us say imaginatively that he was able to avoid remembering his foundation through rigorous mental training, if he could enjoy his time living there?

Would he not have an unnameable fear, a sweat on the back of his neck, following him along and stealing the delight of his every achievement? Would he not exchange his awareness of a conscious, terrible disaster for a worse dred of something vague and devastating?

The Apostle clearly states that a man reaps what he sows.


Another possibility: if a man were able to die unconscious of his already being dead, would it be possible to die in consciousness of still living?

Suppose the suicidal man had taken the fatal poison and said to himself -in spite of his earlier speculations- "You know what? I do believe God still loves me! This love is totally unsearchable and yet I see it so exactly!" Would it be too late for the man who had forgotten he was already dead to find himself oddly alive?

The question is of decisive importance for all.

Certainly we have not all put ourselves in a place where we will all die immediately, but neither is anyone able to say how long it will be before they die.

And it is not too late for anyone now alive to hear Christ's words and put them into practice, to believe on the one sent by God, to forgive one's enemies, to ask earnestly -as the thief did- to be remembered by Christ in His kingdom!

Life has its storms, it is too true, and we are right to weep over them. At the same time it is also true that every house has a foundation, either one that can be shaken or one that cannot be shaken.

A person would do well to ask, "What foundation is my life resting on? Have I heard the words of Christ and put them into practice?"