Who Do You Say God Is?

And it’s over for another year! We wave goodbye to CSSM 2017. No tears this time, we’re getting too old for that – by the time you’re a Cruiser and a Liner, you don’t hold your mum’s hand on the way in and you don’t cry on the way out but that does not mean we didn’t have a fabulous time as always.

It may be a kid’s mission but I never come away from this fortnight empty handed.

So here we are with another ‘pebble’, literally picked up from the beach with the Scripture Union horde at Portballintrae CSSM doing their annual takeover of the big beach, the wee beach and the village hall.

With SUNI’s apparent corporate colour change, we merrily follow the blue, and now green, sweatshirts wherever their red CSSM flags and anthem lead us with all their ‘excitement and fun, in the rain and in the sun’. I don’t care if ‘I’m old and dull and grey’, I pay no heed to those who may say, ‘there’s nothing in Portballintrae’ because there’s nothing quite like a CSSM beach service to fill you up with giggles and song, gratitude and worship, with the sand between your toes, the sun in the sky and the ever changing moods of the sea in the background.

The waves were being particularly boisterous one morning. We were all enjoying blue skies and sun but the sound of the sea hurling itself against the black rocks on the ‘wee beach’ was so loud that it was hard to hear what was being said by anyone. There are naturally any number of distractions when meeting on a beach but that morning it was particularly difficult to pay attention to the poor guys and girls at the front of the CSSM crowd on the sand, trying their very best to make themselves heard above the din of the water.

No one in their right mind would stand on those rocks closest to the open sea when it’s in such a mood and yet on the other side, just ten or fifteen metres away in the little bay created by the outcrop of basalt, other kids were happily paddling and swimming, wading and looking for crabs hiding in the seaweed. Despite the surf’s racket and frightening proximity, they were quite safe in the shallow haven protected by the rocky bulwark.

Suddenly there appeared in the swell, an exceptionally large wave that lifted itself high into the air and loomed over the rocks before smashing down with a thunderous clap. By this stage I had completely lost track of what was being preached by the dauntless CSSM blue shirt to my left as I gasped at the immensity of the breaker. Yet the oblivious bay paddlers were still safe from the deluge of water as the rocks bore its force.

You can see where I’m going with this right?

According to a cursory search on biblegateway.com, there are seventeen references in the Psalms alone, to God being our rock.

‘Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken.’ Psalm 62:2

Turn your ear to me, come quickly to my rescue; be my rock of refuge, a strong fortress to save me. Psalm 31:2

My salvation and my honour depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuge. Psalm 62:7

The Lord lives! Praise be to my Rock! Exalted be God my Saviour 

Psalm 18:46

Why can I not be more like those kids playing in the shallows paying no attention at all to the crashing power of the sea that could so easily sweep them away? What is there to fear when there is a solid, immovable barrier of rock to protect us from harm?

Instead I’m straining to hear and see God’s truth because the sight and sound of the deep is roaring its presence and my gaze is transfixed by its malevolent power.

More blue shirts jump up and the CSSM poster statements are held up high for us to see even if we can’t hear very well. We shout them together so that as one, our voice is louder than the water.

By the end of a week, our declaration of truth is that

THIS IS GOD, OUR PROTECTOR

THIS IS GOD, OUR STRENGTH

THIS IS GOD, ALL POWERFUL

THIS IS GOD, OUR DELIVERER

THIS IS GOD, OUR HOPE

THIS IS GOD, EVER FAITHFUL

By the end of two weeks, at the last gathering, the ‘Final Fling’, blue shirt after blue shirt stands up to declare their own personal statement of who their God is and I smile to myself, because I have a statement too.

THIS IS MY GOD, MY ROCK.