To what shall I compare the kingdom of God, and what is the state of those who claim to be wise?

A certain man walked into a bustling boat shop on the harbor’s edge. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of new winches, pulleys, jibs, spinnakers, tethers, jacklines, and tallow. The walls were lined with thousands of intricate charts, sea maps, and gilded compasses, and the floor was stacked high with coils of pristine, unused rope.

In the center of the shop sat a group of men engrossed in a fierce debate about which first mate was the GOAT; and they argued incessantly about the thickness of hemp, and the hidden reefs of distant shores they had never seen. They boasted in their vast knowledge of the sea (based on the charts they had studied, and the ships they had seen in the harbor). They believed themselves to be grand masters of the deep, stewards of the deepest wisdom of the sea. They wore pristine, unblemished, Patagonia jackets; and their hands were uncalloused and soft.

Then a weathered man named Paul entered the shop, and said to the men, “You wretched pedants! You claim to feast on the solid meat of seafaring because you’ve memorized maps, and accumulated absurd amounts of information about sailing apparatus and accoutrements! But this is NOT THE MEATY/MATURE stuff of sailing! Some of you have actually stepped foot onto the great ship – whose captain is Christ – when it anchored in the harbor, but you fled back to this shop to memorize maps and argue over rankings and rhumb lines. Your maritime erudition, pedantic debates, and proud rivalries are NOT MATURITY; they are the petulance of infants who prefer playing with toy boats in the bath to facing the ocean! …You must come back with me to the harbor and take the MILK / board the boat once more. Dare to get back on the boat and submit yourselves to The Confounding Captain named Christ, and risk your lives as real seamen. For the TRUE MEAT of sailing is not found in the shop, but out beyond the marina where the shore disappears, and waves overwhelm, and the Leviathan plays (Psalm 104:26). The MILK means making your way with my right now – back to the ship! SOLID FOOD food is untethering the ship and hoisting the sails together as fellow workers with the Captain. MATURITY means getting your hands calloused on the heavy ropes, facing the roaring winds, and enduring bitter storms. The SOLID FOOD is failing and falling on your face while daring greatly. The fully developed life a true sailor comes through repenting and learning (through humiliation and humility) to pull together as one crew – always hearing and heeding the sound of His voice (especially His enigmatic exemplums – such as, “If anyone wishes to be wise, let him become a fool”). SOLID FOOD is suffering hardship and persevering through every setback—never taking your eyes off the Captain, and incessantly and increasingly finding your deepest – most childlike – joy in His presence and His parables (1 PETER 2:2 and MATTHEW 18:3-4 and MARK 7:28).”