“After scouring historical records and following a trail of broken pottery scattered on the ocean floor, an American diver appears to have found the largest Spanish galleon built in the New World , which sank off the coast of Ecuador nearly 350 years ago. The diver, Robert McClung, traced the legendary ship to an almost irritatingly logical place: under 30 feet of water a mile offshore from El Real, the coastal village founded by the wreck’s survivors. Treasure seekers believe that the ship, the Capitana, carried silver coins and gold worth millions of dollars.”
So read the New York Times. In classic irony, the story went on to say, “Now, in the dusty fishing villages near the wreck, poor working people watch the recovery team warily. In some streets, dogs, pigs and chickens outnumber people.” Squalor, a mile from the stash. Hand-to-mouth subsistence virtually next door to wealth only dreamed about.
Beyond El Real, scattered around the human coastlines and across the landscapes of the world, God has placed goldmines of opportunity and treasure troves of grace within our reach. Daily, we trudge over the top of unclaimed promises, totally unaware of their close proximity. We cast our eyes hundreds of times over familiar shores beaten by interminable waves, and never see beneath the surface. In terms of churches, ministries and saints, we drive down streets of cities, look at the same houses, buildings and scenery, spend our limited time in narrowly-defined zones with few expectations and even fewer rewards. Too often, the treasure remains undisturbed, still waiting for a diver or a digger to claim it.
Had the people of El Real had forgotten about the gold-laden Spanish galleon a mile offshore? Had the descendants dismissed legendary reports as apocryphal? Maybe they had no way of reaching the gold. Or could it be that they were they so preoccupied with the struggle of their existence that didn’t give it a thought? Could it be that they had learned to live with less? Had 350 years of deprivation traced such deep ruts into their minds that the prospect of a brighter future became forever dimmed?
God forbid that the church should accept a dead, uneventful, listless kind of existence. We must never believe that defeat is our destiny. Sometimes we may even be tempted to anoint failure as simply “the way it is.” Our vision, however, does not come from our surroundings but from a viable, powerful relationship with God. Anyone who dares to look through God’s eyes will see what God sees. When we refuse to look and think superficially, the elements of spiritual success that the carnal mind cannot know will overwhelm us.
McClung did not locate the sunken ship all at once. Over a number of years, he painstakingly traced his find from a clue, a small bit of information. How much more should the people of God search diligently and confidently for the spiritual rewards that God has promised us? We have a map, a guide, the instrumentality of the Spirit, and the supply of strength along the way. One person may be the key to revival. Knocking on one door, making one phone call, sending one card, praying one prayer may trigger a huge find.
The eye, even with the aid of powerful lenses, can only see approximately eighteen miles across the surface of the earth. The curvature of the earth prevents a longer view. My thoughts always go to the nineteenth mile. What is out there that we cannot see? How foolish it would be to draw a circle with an eighteen-mile radius and refuse to believe anything beyond that circle is possible. There is more. To see it you either have to move your center, or move to a higher perch. “Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” (Luke 12:32)