Here is my parable I wrote.
A Parable of Swimming
As Tommy grew from a baby to a child, he began to desire what most children desire: to learn to swim. He had already learned to run and jump. He had already learned to play with his friends around the neighborhood. As his friends began to learn to swim he, too, desired to be with his friends in the pool. Long past was the enjoyment of the little plastic kiddy pools that are only a foot deep. Long past was the enjoyment of splashing in the water. He desired to be in the great big depths of pools that were deeper than a foot of water.
As the questioning commenced, “Mom, when am I going to learn to swim?” “Is it time to learn to swim?” or “Mother, I want to go swimming.” His mother began to offer suggestions: “Maybe when you are a little older.” “Swimming lessons do not start in the winter.”
When the end of Spring rolled around, the question was inevitable. “Is it time to swim?” His mother finally gave in. They enrolled the young energetic boy into swimming lessons at the Parks and Recreation Department. What seemed like an eternity pasted from the day they signed up to the first day of swimming lessons. That fateful day arrived. Nervous mothers and fathers and nervous kids all converged onto the swimming pool at the park.
One knows, who has learned to swim, that the lifeguards do not throw new kids into the deep end and say “swim.” So the time honored methods of learning to swim were followed. As the lifeguard stepped up to the class of anxious kids, she began to address the parents standing on the outside of the fence: “I am a trained lifeguard. If something may happen let me do my job. I have been trained and experienced in saving kids from drowning. Please do not believe you need to exert control over the situation, chances are you will probably end up hindering it.” So, she jumped into the pool and said to the kids, “There is nothing to be afraid of. All of you can touch the bottom.” So she encouraged each of them to step down the steps into the water. Some kids quickly formed a line because they wanted to get into the water as fast as they could. Other kids hung back because they were still unsure of the water. This deep water was new and scary. Mothers and fathers stood on the outside of the fence anxiously waiting to see their little Burt or Tamequa. Tommy’s mom seemed extremely nervous. She stood along with the other parents, yet she stood more rigid. Her fingers were melding with the fence. Tommy did not understand this until later. Tommy, on the other hand, was one of the first kids to get into the water. The lifeguard said “walk in” and he jumped. She said “no splashing the other kids” as they got into the water but Tommy was submerging his head when she said that, so he began to splash and play. He was having a blast in the water. His mom was still nervous.
It took the whole hour for some of the kids to get into the water on the first day. As soon as the last kid got in, the lifeguard announced that time was up and that all of them needed to get out of the water and go change in the dressing rooms. “I am so proud of all of you for getting in the water today. There is nothing to be afraid of. (She said this to kids and to the parents.) Don’t forget to wash off in the shower and I will see you tomorrow,” was the last thing she said to them that day as they lined up and walked toward the dressing rooms.
The drive home was full of excitement and relief. Excitement because Tommy learned to swim that day (not really), but he thought so. Relief on his mother’s part because he was safely out of the water and in her presence where she could have more control on his surroundings. As the weeks went by, he learned more and more about floating, breathing, and the many strokes of swimming. He learned that there are many ways to swim in the water: freestyle, backstroke, breaststroke, and the butterfly. His favorite was the freestyle. Was he adept at swimming by the end of the summer? No. Was he ready to swim across a lake? No. Was he ready to swim without supervision of a lifeguard? By no means! But he could now go into water that was over his head. Gone were the days where 3 feet of water was Tommy’s boundary. Here were the days when 5 feet of water was great to be in!
Tommy’s mom on the other hand was still nervous and anxious every time he put a foot into the water. Tommy still did not understand this as a little boy.
Many years passed by and more lessons meant deeper water for an older boy who loved the water. Three feet of water was bypassed all together and five feet of water was where he would begin his swimming. His mom had released her position at the fence to another mother or father who was watching their child learn to swim in three feet of water. Tommy’s mom now was positioned a little farther back at the picnic tables, but she was still anxiously watching—ready to swoop in and save him.
As he grew into his older teen years, he learned why his mother had been so anxious and nervous when he was around water at a pool or a lake. She was uncomfortable with the uncertainty that the deep water brought. She was nervous with water that was over her head or the head of her child. She knew that if she needed to jump in and “save” her child, that her ability to do so would be greatly hindered, if she could at all. So she tried to keep Tommy in water that was deep enough to have some enjoyment but not to go too deep. That made sense. He hardly ever saw her in the water. He did not even recall five times that his mother went swimming with him
Tommy’s mom would explain that she was just trying to protect him and that her guidance was the best. She saw it as her sole responsibility to protect him from the unknown of the deep water. She did not know what was out there so Tommy did not need to go there. This was a heavy burden. As Tommy learned to swim better, he desired to swim farther and deeper. She was torn because she wanted Tommy to grow in his swimming skills but she was not comfortable with where it could lead. It could possibly lead to foreign water which she had never been in herself.
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This parable models the Christian journey. We all begin in the shallow waters of faith. We all rely on the Lifeguard to teach us the intrinsic elements of what it means to be in relationship with God, but we do have the safety of the shallow water in these formative years. We all rely on the Lifeguard to reassure us that learning to swim is one of the most important things a person can do. As we continue in the waters of faith and get used to the swimming strokes (as different as they all are), we mature in our relationship with God. Then it happens: the learning of the strokes unite with the swimmer. The swimmer uses these strokes not to learn to swim but to swim. They become more than “things done” to swim, they actually become part of the swimmer. Also in this time the swimmer begins to develop a swimming technique that is unique to the swimmer. The relationship between the swimmer and the waters of faith is unique. When this happens, the Lifeguard looks upon the swimmer and takes great joy. The swimmer no longer needs the hard structure of the beginning lessons. The swimmer needs the freedom to go swim, wherever that takes him/her in the waters of faith.
Faith mentors have always been anxious concerning the faith formation of people they love. They take great time and effort in trying to help the person produce a deep, lasting relationship with God in the waters of faith. But there comes a point when they have to release the person fully into the hands of the Lifeguard and let the Lifeguard become the primary person that is influencing faith development. That may mean the Lifeguard takes the swimmer into water that is unknown and foreign to the faith mentors. That is okay because the Lifeguard is there. Is it scary for the faith mentors? Yeah! Is it hard to go there yourself? Yeah! But the control desperately needs to be given over to the Lifeguard. Otherwise, the swimmer will probably reject the faith mentors because of the freedom that is in the waters of faith but not experienced in the controlled environment of the faith mentors.
Each stroke learned or breathing exercise experience is part of the journey. The swimmer only knows how to swim because the Lifeguard’s example and the example of the other swimmers that have gone before. The swimmer is not rejecting those who have swum before, he is embracing them and their lessons but is moving on into the future. Each swimmer has the responsibility to swim and pass on swimming to the generations to come. That could mean swimming in larger pools or even swimming in the largest pool: the ocean. Each of the waters of faith have their own dangers and rewards, but each is watched over by the lifeguard.
Swimming lessons have evolved through time. Breathing exercises have transformed as we understand our respiratory systems better. At one time in history the breaststroke was a new stroke. It looked weird (maybe still does). It was something new and different. But through time and teaching and practice, the breaststroke is one of the most recognized swimming styles. In the waters of faith, sometimes new ideas and new ways of doing things need to be embraced. Not because they are new or “just something different,” but because there is a new way to swim.
