William Young - The Shack

Mack allowed his oar to turn in his hands as he let it play in the water’s movements. “It feels like living out of relationship-you know, trusting and talking to you-is a bit more complicated than just following rules.”

“What rules are those, Mackenzie?”

“You know, all the things the Scriptures tell us we should do.”

“Okay…” she said with some hesitation. “And what might those be?”

“You know,” he answered sarcastically. “About doing good things and avoiding evil, being kind to the poor, reading your Bible, praying, and going to church. Things like that.”

“I see. And how is that working for you?”

He laughed. “Well, I’ve never done it very well. I have moments that aren’t too bad, but there’s always something I’m struggling with, or feeling guilty about. I just figured I needed to try harder, but I find it difficult to sustain that motivation.”

“Mackenzie!” she chided, her words flowing with affection. “The Bible doesn’t teach you to follow rules. It is a picture of Jesus. While words may tell you what God is like and even what he may want from you, you cannot do any of it on your own. Life and living is in him and in no other. My goodness, you didn’t think you could live the righteousness of God on your own, did you?”

“Well, I thought so, sorta…” he said sheepishly. “But you gotta admit, rules and principles are simpler than relationships.”

“It is true that relationships are a whole lot messier than rules, but rules will never give you answers to the deep questions of the heart and they will never love you.”

Dipping his hand in the water, he played, watching the patterns his movements made. “I’m realizing how few answers I have… to anything. You know, you’ve turned me upside down or inside out or something.”

“Mackenzie, religion is about having the right answers, and some of their answers are right. But I am about the process that takes you to the living answer and once you get to him, he will change you from the inside. There are a lot of smart people who are able to say a lot of right things from their brain because they have been told what the right answers are, but they don’t know me at all. So really, how can their answers be right even if they are right, if you understand my drift?” She smiled at her pun. “So even though they might be right, they are still wrong.”

“I understand what you’re saying. I did that for years after seminary. I had the right answers, sometimes, but I didn’t know you. This weekend, sharing life with you has been far more illuminating than any of those answers.” They continued to move lazily with a current.

“So, will I see you again?” he asked hesitantly.

“Of course. You might see me in a piece of art, or music, or silence, or through people, or in Creation, or in your joy and sorrow. My ability to communicate is limitless, living and transforming, and it will always be tuned to Papa’s goodness and love. And you will hear and see me in the Bible in fresh ways. Just don’t look for rules and principles; look for relationship-a way of coming to be with us.”

“It still won’t be the same as having you sit on the bow of my boat.”

“No, it will be far better than you’ve yet known, Mackenzie. And when you finally sleep in this world, we’ll have an eternity together-face-to-face.”

And then she was gone. Although he knew that she was not really.

“So please, help me live in the truth,” he said out loud. “Maybe that counts as prayer.” he wondered.

When Mack entered the cabin he saw that Jesus and Sarayu were already there and seated around the table. Papa was busy as usual bringing platters of wonderful-smelling dishes, again only a few that Mack recognized, and even those he had to look at twice to make sure they were something he was familiar with. Conspicuously absent were any greens. He headed for the bathroom to clean up, and when he returned the other three had already begun to eat. He pulled up the fourth chair and sat down.

“You don’t really have to eat, do you?” he asked, as he began to ladle something into his bowl that resembled a thin seafood soup, with squid and fish and other more ambiguous delicacies.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Papa stated rather strongly.

“Then why do you eat?” Mack inquired.

“To be with you, honey. You need to eat, so what better excuse to be together.”

“Anyway, we all like to cook,” added Jesus. “And I enjoy food-a lot. Nothing like a little shaomai, ugali, nipla, or kori bananje to make your taste buds happy. Follow that with some sticky toffee pudding or a tiramisu and hot tea. Yum! It doesn’t get any better than that.”

Everyone laughed and then busily resumed passing platters and helping themselves. As Mack ate, he listened to the banter between the three. They talked and laughed like old friends who knew one another intimately. As he thought about it, that was assuredly more true for his hosts than anyone inside or outside Creation. He was envious of the carefree but respectful conversation and wondered what it would take to share that with Nan and maybe even with some friends.

Again Mack was struck by the wonder and sheer absurdity of the moment. His mind wandered through the incredible conversations that had involved him during the previous twenty-four hours. Wow! He had only been here one day? And what was he supposed to do with all this when he got back home? He knew that he would tell Nan everything. She might not believe him and not that he would blame her; he probably wouldn’t believe any of it either.

As his mind picked up speed he felt himself withdrawing from the others. None of this could be real. He closed his eyes and tried to shut out the exchanges going on around him. Suddenly, it was dead silent. He slowly opened one eye, half expecting to be waking up at home. Instead, Papa, Jesus, and Sarayu were all staring at him with silly grins plastered to their faces. He didn’t even try to explain himself. He knew that they knew.

Instead he pointed to one of the dishes and asked, “Could I try some of that?” The interactions resumed and this time he listened. But again, he felt himself withdrawing. To counteract it, he decided to ask a question.

“Why do you love us humans? I suppose, I…” As he spoke he realized he hadn’t formed his question very well. “I guess what I want to ask, is why do you love me, when I have nothing to offer you?”

“If you think about it, Mack,” Jesus answered, “it should be very freeing to know that you can offer us nothing, at least not anything that can add or take away from who we are…

That should alleviate any pressure to perform.”

“And do you love your own children more when they perform well?” added Papa.

“No, I see your point.” Mack paused. “But I do feel more fulfilled because they are in my life-do you?”

“No,” said Papa. “We are already fully fulfilled within our-self. You are designed to be in community as well, made as you are in our very image. So for you to feel that way about your children, or anything that ‘adds’ to you, is perfectly natural and right. Keep in mind, Mackenzie, that I am not a human being, not in my very nature, despite how we have chosen to be with you this weekend. I am truly human, in Jesus, but I am a totally separate other in my nature.”

“You do know-of course you do,” Mack said apologetically-”that I can only follow that line of thought so far, and then I get lost and my brain turns to mush?”

“I understand,” acknowledged Papa. “You cannot see in your mind’s eye something that you cannot experience.”

Mack thought about that for a moment. “I guess so… Whatever… See? Mush.”