As a kid growing up on Florida's Gulf coast I remember being fascinated with pirates ... the buccaneers who'd roamed the Caribbean hundred of years before, preying on treasure-laden galleons sailing from Mexico back to Spain.
The house where we lived was built on an island; to a seven-year-old it seemed likely that Jose Gaspar himself could have left a treasure chest buried no further away than the backyard.
Stop being an adult for a minute and think about it: a treasure beyond description might lie just a few feet away, but where? Somewhere in the back yard? Under the patio? But what if it lay buried under the garage- how would you get to it then?
I KNEW buried treasure was close but how would I know where to start looking, unless I had a map?
-I asked my folks; no map came with the house when they bought it.
-I couldn't find any library books that mentioned a pirate treasure being buried anywhere near my house.
-I consulted school friends to brainstorm their ideas (after swearing them to secrecy, naturally) about where to look.
During times when "Knowing Where to Look" seemed hopeless I regained my enthusiasm by imagining all the things I'd buy once the treasure was mine.
I didn't wanna give up the idea that there were riches waiting nearby, a treasure so close I might literally be sleeping on top of it. But I always ended up stumped, perplexed about what to do next.
Because no matter how much I believed or how overwhelming my enthusiasm became, I simply had no idea where to start digging.
Gee, my childish visions of treasure hunting start sounding a lot like mainstream religion.
The Jolly Roger & The Cross
A mysterious man arrived a long time ago with a treasure. He left the treasure behind and then went away again, abandoning his followers and leaving precious few clues beyond a dusty, ancient map, about "the right way" to find his treasure.
Too often we see believers acting and living their lives just that way: as if Christ left us marooned on a desert island to suffer and muddle through on our own, despite having promised his treasure lies waiting ... if only He'd left us more clues to get us on track so we could finally find it and be sure.
Dead Men Tell No Tales: what we need is a Southern Buccaneer Clue Convention
Convinced that Christ returned to Heaven (awaiting the Rapture as a sour-faced recluse) and took all the clues with Him, many groups of believers created their own clues ... complete with "treasure maps" describing and pointing to the booty ... yet none of the man-made maps seem to agree on how to find the treasure, much less on a common compass heading ... many insisting instead that they alone possess the clues belonging to "the one true map."
Others go so far as to argue that the treasure is exclusively theirs (which explains, I guess, why they intend to keep it guarded so jealously), so looking outside the auspices of their convention is useless.
Yet, to outsiders, do these tight-fisted believers reveal any hint of living treasure-filled lives? Or do they seem more concerned with greedily keeping the treasure hoarded and hidden from view ... instead of sharing their unearned riches?
Yo ho ho and a stained glass window ... Walking the Man-made Plank
There's at least one INFINITE difference between hunting for pirates' treasure and seeking Heavenly treasure: it's too late for treasure hunters to call upon Jose Gaspar, or Blackbeard or Captain Kidd for guidance finding the treasure, because none of them have done much communicating in the past four hundred years.
The map to Heavenly treasure, on the other hand, comes with a 24x7 Help Line ... and unlimited lifetime support.
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