Sell All Your Possessions and Ride a Skateboard

Several years ago, while visiting friends, their son excitedly showed me his quarter pipe skateboard ramp and grinding rail.   It was exciting to watch him as he flipped his skateboard on the rail and slid down the length of the steel, and as he dropped down off the lip of the quarter pipe and raced down the driveway. 

It seemed like a lot of fun and I had the idea it might be worth a try.  Now, I knew there was no way I could flip that board up onto that rail, but I thought there was a chance I would be able drop into quarter pipe.  My mistake was I spoke this idea out loud and the boy began to encourage me to try. When I hesitated, he proceeded to egg me on.  I think he may have even used the word “Chicken”.  What was I to do?

I watched him take a few more turns dropping into the pipe, asking questions each time about what he was doing and how it should feel to drop off the edge.  He was more than helpful.  I think he was now feeling some responsibility for my decision and wanted to do everything he could to insure my success.  After all, nobody wants to be the guy who talked someone into cracking their head open on your parent’s driveway.

After a few minutes I realized it was now or never, so I took the board, set it on the edge just like he told me to, and hung there, one foot firmly on the tail of the board which was resting on the top of the pipe and the other lightly touching the front of the board.  The young man continued to give me instructions on how to drop in.  Like a pro athlete who visualized the shot before he takes it, I allowed the image of me dropping in and rolling down the driveway play over and over in my mind. 

 Finally I committed, well sort of. The board began to move and I went with it, but I did not fully commit.  My friend’s son had told me over and over you had to put your weight on your front foot when you went.  What I found is your body wants to do just the opposite.  It wants to stay firmly planted on the back foot because it feels secure.  To transfer your weight to the front foot seems unnatural and risky, but I discovered the hard way, it is also the safest thing to do.

I dropped in, my weight still planted on my back foot.  Rather than feeling the thrill of riding the skateboard down the ramp, I felt the board squirt out from under me, throwing my feet up into the air and by upper body down onto the concrete.  Thankful, I did not crack my head open, but I did hurt my wrist.  At the time I jumped up and acted as if I was fine.  It then proceeded to get in my car and drive away as quick as possible.  My pride could not let him know I had done more than just embarrass myself.  It took weeks before my wrist healed and felt right.

This painful lesson taught me when it comes to dropping into a quarter pipe, you have to fully commit.

In the Scriptures there is a story about a man who meets Jesus.  He does not want to learn to skateboard, but he does ask Jesus to teach him something.  He asks Jesus, “What good deed must I do to have eternal life?”  Jesus replied by saying, “If you want to enter life, keep the commandments.”  The man asked Jesus which one and Jesus shared several.  What Jesus said must have made the man feel good, because he reported to Jesus, “All these I have kept.”  And yet, he seemed to know in his own heart that it was not enough for he also said, “What do I still lack.”

Jesus responded by telling him to put all his weight on his front foot when he dropped in.  With love in His heart for the man Jesus said, “If you want to be perfect, (if you want to know the joy and thrill of riding down the face of the ramp and speeding down the driveway), sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”

What Jesus was asking must have felt unnatural and risky, but Jesus was not extending an invitation which would lead to this man’s peril.  He was inviting him to life.  He was calling him to make the safest move.

There the man stood in front of Jesus, one foot hanging on the edge of the board and the other planted firmly on the security of the ramp.  I wonder what visualizations were going through his mind?  Was he thinking about how abundant life would be if he put all his weight on his front foot, or was he thinking about how perilous it would be for him to let go of the security of his wealth.  I think it must have been both.  We do not know for sure, but we do know latter image won out. 

The Scriptures do not tell us what happens to the young ruler after his encounter with Jesus.  We know enough to understand in his moment of hesitation the invitation shot out from underneath him and he was upended. Something was injured in his unwillingness to leave the security he had known, in order to take hold of the life he was being offered. We are told he was saddened by the choice he felt he had to take.  Sadness is born out of loss.  He knew he had lost something significant in his decision and went away grieving.  

This man’s story of loss teaches us, in order to take hold of the freedom and fullness of the life offered by Jesus, you have to fully commit.

I do not know when your moment will come, but I know there will be a time when you find yourself with one foot securely planted on what feels solid and secure and the other dangling on the end of a board. In this place, you will be confronted with the choice of keeping your weight on your back foot, where it feels secure, or shifting it to your front, trusting that the move will actually be safer than holding back or hesitating. 

Maybe you are poised on the lip of the pipe right now, trying to visualize what it will be like to actually make the move.  The only choice which leads to life is to shift your weight.  Do it now. Do it without hesitation. Let go of what you are holding onto for security and fall into safety.  Choosing not to, or being tentative, will do nothing but upend and injure you.  

Take the risk, drop in even if it feels unnatural and you will know the thrill of riding down the face of a pipe and racing the down the driveway in freedom.