Moby Dick and Living with Risk as Christians
“All men live enveloped in whale-lines. All are born with halters round their necks; but it is only when caught in the swift, sudden turn of death, that mortals realize the silent, subtle, ever-present perils of life. And if you be a philosopher, though seated in the whale-boat, you would not at heart feel one whit more of terror, than though seated before your evening fire with a poker, and not a harpoon, by your side.”
― Herman Melville, Moby-Dick
This quote may seem a bit dark, but hear me out. Risk is all around us, whether we’re ‘safe’ at home or in a dangerous situation like whaleboat. It’s impossible to live a life without risk, so how do we manage that risk when everything feels dangerous? Should Christians approach risk differently than the rest of the world?
First, it may be necessary for me to explain what a whale-line is. Back in the 19th century when people still went out in wooden ships to hunt whales for industrial purposes, whale line was a strong rope about two hundred fathoms long and able to hold several tons of weight. Most of the line was carefully coiled and layered in tight circles and stored in a large tub at the back of a whaleboat. A whaleboat was a small vessel with a crew of about a half-dozen that left the larger whaling ship to pursue a pod of whales. Part of the whale line was threaded between the rowers on either side of the boat, looped in various ways and attached to the front of the boat (the bow). The end of the line was attached to a harpoon, and when that was darted at a whale, the line would go taut and uncoil, speeding out between the crew of rowers as the whale swam away or dived with the line attached. This is why Melville calls it a “halter.” Any flaw in the coiling would “infallibly take somebody’s arm, leg, or entire body off.” And it was often deadly if anyone got tangled in the line or was knocked out of the boat by it.
In 1851, whales were a primary source of oil used for fuel, soap, cosmetics, and other products. An entire industry grew up around whaling, and it provided the basis for stories like Moby Dick, which challenges humankind’s hubris in thinking it had mastered uncontrollable things like the sea. Throughout Ishmael’s narration of that ill-fated whaling voyage, I can’t help but marvel at how insanely dangerous the whole venture is. Not just fictional but real men (and women in some cases) went out in little boats filled with sharp things, attached themselves to whales—the biggest living things in the sea—with a rope that had a great likelihood of tangling them up in it, let the whale pull their boat around for a while and hoped that it didn’t dive and take their boat down with it, and then eventually hauled it back to the ship with their tiny boat, lit a huge oil fire on their wooden ship which was also filled with more oil, and processed the whale before the sharks could eat it. No wonder many whalers perished.
But Ishmael reasons that, if you really think about it, he is no more danger on the whaleboat than he would be by his own fireside at home. He’s right—it’s not that we are constantly in equal amounts of danger, but we live all the time with forces we cannot control or plan for.
I confronted this truth a few years ago when I was involved in a serious car crash. Ever since then, my sense of safety has been eroded. I seem to feel in danger all the time—I worry about fires and trees falling on the house, I worry about crashing every time I get into a car, and I worry about bringing illness home to my family.
I’m not the only one. For the past year, the entire world has been faced with a new and dangerous disease and has been asked to avoid risk as much as possible. Many people are dealing with the long-term effects of fear, anxiety, and risk avoidance. However, living with a zero-risk tolerance level is not sustainable or healthy.
We shouldn’t ignore danger, but we should learn to responsibly manage the risks we take and balance them with potential benefits. Please don’t mistake me—I am not suggesting we should ignore the pandemic and forget safety measures that help keep us and others safe. I wouldn’t suggest that any more than I would suggest not wearing seat belts. If I hadn’t been wearing one in the crash, I likely would have died and also crushed my younger brother in the passenger seat. Not taking simple safety measures like seat belts or hand washing is a needless risk which has no benefit.
However, it is not possible to live a risk-free life. Excessive fear only cripples us and keeps us from enjoying life. As Ecclesiastes says, “he who observes the wind will not sow, and he who regards the clouds will not reap” (Ecclesiastes 11:1-4). I am trying to relearn how to take reasonable risks when the benefits outweigh the potential for harm. Driving is always a risk, but the amount of benefit that I would lose from not taking that risk is too great. Furthermore, there are many people who choose to place themselves in high-risk situations to help others: firefighters, law-enforcement, soldiers, medical personnel who treat infectious diseases, etc. Think what would happen if they refused all risks. We can’t make our world completely safe, so the only thing to do is learn to live with it and to wisely and Biblically approach risk-benefit decisions.
As Christians, we know that God controls everything that happens in our universe: “For I know that the Lord is great, and that our Lord is above all gods. Whatever the Lord pleases, he does, in heaven and on earth, in the seas and all deeps” (Psalm 135: 5-6). We need to keep a proper perspective about how much control we have over our lives and not be too arrogant in making plans: “you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that’” (James 4:14-15). Our lives are just a bit of sea-spray when compared to eternity, but even so, God isn’t indifferent toward us. Jesus says, “even the hairs of your head are all numbered” (Matt. 10:30). He has already carefully planned our lives and deaths.
This is a strange truth to live with. We’re still subject to the laws of physics, gravity, common sense, etc. But if God wants us alive, then nothing on earth can harm us. On one hand, I can’t really control my own safety. On the other hand, it would be reckless to jump off a cliff and challenge the laws of gravity to a duel, or to refuse to wear a seat belt, which is way that I can reasonably reduce risk of harm. Even Jesus did not throw himself off the top of the temple just because He could (Luke 4:9-12).
So how do we live, then? Worrying helps nothing. It only keeps us afraid all the time. According to 2 Timothy, “God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control” (2 Timothy 1:7). We can live with this spirit knowing that God watches over us and will never forsake us in any circumstance. Paul wrote, “I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:12-13). We can make wise choices, but we can’t always avoid all danger. But with the right perspective of God’s providence, we can feel as secure in a whaleboat (or a car, or a pandemic) as we do in our favorite armchair at home.
—————————————————