For centuries early autumn mornings along the waterways of South Carolina have lifted brushes, pens and cameras in awed inspiration to capture the greens and yellows of her marshlands, perfect blue-whites of egret’s wings, and the sun’s reflection in the glistening skin of dolphins.

On such a morning in a boat filled with friends and laughter, we traversed the Coosaw River on our return trip to Edisto Island after a weekend of shrimp, shagging and shopping in beautiful, historic Beaufort during their 14th annual Shrimp Festival.

Rather unexpectedly our speed decreased and,  as the mist of salty spray dissipated and the bow of our boat dropped lower, someone asked, “Why are we slowing down?” All eyes turned toward the driver of our boat for the explanation. Pointing to port he directed our attention to a small johnboat located near the edge of the marsh.

On board the small boat were three men with one casting a shrimp net among the bait poles placed there.  Had we or any of the other four yachts in line with us continued at our current speed, the individual or combined wake of our boats would have easily produced waves capable of swamping and possibly capsizing the tiny boat.

Our larger boats were free to do as they wished.  We could have continued on our way as we were.  Smaller boats normally give way to larger boats, not the other way around.  More arrogant boaters, boasting in their superior knowledge, might have scoffed at the smaller boat with its rather foolish positioning of shrimp poles along a heavily traveled route and continued on their way with little or no regard for the consequences of their behavior.  

I followed our wake as it reached the marsh and was happy to see it only gently rocked the johnboat and that the men on board were only momentarily delayed in their shrimping expedition. 
The incident was a living lesson of what the apostle Paul was trying to tell the church in Corinth in his first letter to them.  Half way through that biblical letter is a discussion about one of the problems the early church was having that is similar to problems facing many of us today.   

In Corinth the issue was whether or not to eat meat that had been offered in a sacrifice to pagan idols. Some followers of Christ had strong convictions against eating such meat while others saw nothing wrong with it. The argument held by the second group was, since idols are nothing because there is only one true God, it should not matter whether or not they ate the meat. 

Technically they were right but they were missing the point.  It is not about the meat, going to clubs, drinking, smoking marijuana, living together before being married or of any other number of interpersonal issues. It is about one’s heart attitude toward other believers and concern for the impact our way of life has on others, believers or not.  

If I truly have the love of God in my heart I will want to help build up a weaker believer and do all I can not to offend him.  I will not try to make my point through powerful arguments that will convince him to do anything that will oppose his own conscience. I will not flaunt the understanding of my liberty in front of him and possibly cause him to stumble.

I once heard a pastor put it this way, “Even though I can, I won’t sit in the café eating the steak that’s on special because it had been offered to Zeus.”   

Later in the day as I watched our wake impact strongly against other shores, I was constantly reminded that my actions in the presence of impressionable seekers and fragile new believers may impact them in ways far more damaging than helpful. 

To put it another way, love watches its own wake.