Walking on risky water

Years ago several of my friends and I would set hooks. That was a way of describing putting our trot lines across a large creek that ran through the woods of Kemper County, Miss.

It was the easiest way of fishing I knew, with the possible exception of jug fishing.

You got a large, long line, set hooks on it a foot apart, tied one end to a tree on one back and floated your boat across while baiting the hooks and letting the line slide into the murky water. When you reached the other side, you tied it off on another trunk of a tree.

Then you went back to your tents, or by your campfire, and you waited a few hours.

Then you grabbed a lantern, walked down to where you dragged the boat up on land and set out to check the hooks. It was exhilirating to drag the line up and feel something wiggling on it, or simply feel the weight on the line. Most times it was a catfish, and it was a simple pleasure to quickly but carefully take the fish off the line, making sure the fish didn't pop you with his fin.

Once my dad told me the tale of a night of trot-line fishing that ended badly. He and two of his buds were checking the line and they dragged their boat under a tree that hung over the river. When they did, a moccasin fell off the limb into the boat with a thump.

My dad tells the story:

"The big ol' moccasin flopped at first, then it slowly came to its senses and began to crawl. My buddy Delbert backed away from the snake in the boat, pushing his way over one seat to the back of the boat. But the problem came with Bennie Egler. Bennie was deathly afraid of snakes, and he was a gun fancier with a love of hand guns. he had a revolver with him that night and when he flashed his lantern on the snake, his eyes got as big as silver dollar coins. Before the men could stop him, he flipped his hand back to his belt line, jerked out his gun and fired two shots at the snake. He did a bad job of eliminating the threat by missing the snake, but he did a good job of shooting the bottom of the boat. The snake figured these people must be crazy, I guess, cause it slipped up the side of the boat and out into the river. We just stared at the holes in the boat and the water coming in.

Finally, Delbert said slowly in that deep Southern accent of his, "Bennie, I sure hope you can walk on water, because we're going to be boatless in about 30 minutes."

Friends, we're going to talk about risks that we take today, but I hope we're going to hear the difference between good risks and poor ones. There is a real difference.
People in the Bible were risk takers, you know.

Try Adam and Eve. They took a risk that God didn't mean what he said when he told them not to eat of the tree. How's that working out for everyone?

Abraham's risk: heading out for a land he didn't know, on a trail he didn't know, at a time he wasn't aware of. Tremendous risk was taken.

Moses risk? Heading into a country where he was wanted for murder so that he could tell the ruler of the country that he must let his slaves go free. Why? God told him so.

Noah's risk? Filling a boat up with pooping animals and believing that every thing wouldn't come out messy.

Joseph's risk? Turn away the wife of the leader of the country and expect things were going to turn out well.

Paul's risk? Telling his countrymen that the way they had been worshiping for centuries was completely wrong.

And Peter? You hear sermons often talk about how Peter sank in the water the night he tried to walk on it, but I'm here to tell you that Peter took an incredible risk simply by picking up one foot and putting it down outside a boat on the water, just like my father's friend.

Friends, we will never stretch ourselves spiritually if we are afraid of getting wet, if we're afraid of taking a risk. Shelter of complancency is no shelter at all