Humpty tells me he’s thinking of getting an electric bike. I’ll warn the local residents. We have seen a take-over of footpaths by cyclists. Pedestrians already go in fear of their lives. True, it was the advent of motor-cars changed mobile life for ever. But they were preceded by men with red flags. We can hardly expect that to be the case as far as electric bikes are concerned.
Once upon a time we could go no further than our feet could carry us. If we were flush with this world’s riches, we might hoist ourselves on to the back of a horse or get a ticket on a coastal vessel never out of sight of land. That did not stop people moving all over the Atlantic islands, Europe and the other side of the Mediterranean. From Carthage to Constantinople an intrepid traveller could expect to see unfamiliar faces, hear unfamiliar languages and find both familiar and strange gods being worshipped.
What way-back generations did slowly we can now do quickly. We may not be able to hoist ourselves into the driving-seat of a Lamborghini but we can squeeze into a seat on a jumbo-jet and be in Australia before we can say Jack Robinson.
This is progress and we exult in it. Rightly so. Progress is a good thing, as Bunyan acknowledged 350 years ago. And the idea of life as a pilgrimage, as steady progress towards a worthwhile destination, has become a defining metaphor for a life of faith. On this view everybody’s faith is now seen as ever-changing, responding to one stimulus after another, allowing new interpretations to rejuvenate ancient formulas, recognising that global understanding requires a capacious approach to our own and other people’s understanding of ultimate questions.
But there is another side to the coin. As well as re-colouring our faith in the light of increasing knowledge we have to recognise the value of a static mooring-point, an anchor for our lives. We find this idea in Hebrews 6.19. Could it have been that these words were written by the admirable Priscilla, the woman who put Apollos on the right track when his self-confidence was something other than fool-proof?
‘Take care,’ I said to Humpty. ‘Don’t do a wheelie and fall off. One fall is quite enough. Put it another way. Think like a seafarer. We all need an anchor in life.’
He didn’t hear me. He’s busy looking at catalogues. ‘Oh dear! I fear the worst.’
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