Faith Venture

My wife and her sisters persuaded me to try an aqua fit class during our vacation at a resort last week. I can swim but seldom get in the pool. Meaning: I’m not that good.

After a lot of “weight” work with 8 oz. dumbbells that in the water simulated several pounds, the instructor got out three or four-foot lengths of foam tubing called noodles. At one point she instructed us to put them between our legs as if we were sitting astride them. Then she said pretend you’re pedaling a bicycle and head to the deep end of the pool. Then she told us to do a breast stroke motion with our arms. I fell off the noodle, got tangled up in the darn things, and was in water over my head. It took a few seconds to get my bearing.

A few minutes later I experimented on my own in shallower water and discovered the “trick”.

Let’s back up a second. When I had a new person come to my Yoga class, I’d ask about experience. Some had more than I did. Great. Just explain the progression of poses and keep an eye on them just in case.

If they said this was their first experience, I would give instructions to the class for moving to the next pose while standing or kneeling with the new person to help them find the correct adjustment for the pose. (without touching them, I never touched a student)

I’m thinking that aqua instructor, nice person though she was, knowing I was a newbie, should have given me a bit more instruction and watched more carefully.

Then I thought about other things.

Do we convince someone to “accept Jesus in their heart” and then just send them to drift into the deep end alone?

Do we tell someone to read their Bible daily without teaching and feedback on how to read ancient spiritual writing?

Perhaps you may have memories of being adrift and lost. Maybe someone teaching live or from a book helped you find your balance sending you off into freedom.

“I took a semester course in that subject at university,” the recent graduate told me in an interview, “so, I am an expert in that field.”

I think I replied to the effect that he had barely scratched the surface of knowledge.

It is called the Dunning-Kruger Effect. The peak of the curve is often called Mount Stupid.

We have all been there.

There was a Bible study. One man who had begun studying the Bible within the past year exclaimed, “I don’t understand why anyone can argue this. Here it is plainly in black and white.”

I mentioned that first, he was reading English. Jesus and Paul didn’t speak English, since it had not been invented yet. “It’s complicated,” I said. Maybe I realized then that I had arrived. I knew I didn’t know everything. Now, I could begin to understand. And perhaps guide someone else off the peak of “Mount Stupid.”