Hermit crabs and moving forward

How a tiny decapod revealed to me that moving forward and pressing on is the only sensible thing to do

What I’ve been up to…

For those of you wondering where I’ve been, it’s been a busy couple months for us. We recently moved house to be closer to a community of friends of ours in a neighborhood that is deeply meaningful to us. It’s kept us preoccupied, but I’ve been reflecting on some aspects of what it means to live in community, what gates around our homes run the risk of doing to us, and why it’s important to be able to walk on the sidewalk and see our neighbors. I’ll write up some thoughts and share them with you in the coming weeks.

I also turned 40 last month, so between celebrations and getting away as a family, along with the occasional what-the-heck-have-I-done-with-my-life? mental spirals, I’ve been quite busy.

But I’m back today with a story about how God showed something through a hermit crab.

Our cast of hermit crabs

My family and I recently took a holiday to the Coromandel Peninsula, just over a couple hours from our home in Auckland. It was beautiful and relaxing, and came right after we were (nearly) done moving—a timely respite. Even though it’s winter here, we had immaculate, warmish weather and spent some time exploring on the beach without freezing.

Our collection of hermit crabs (and a few sea snails) after about ten minutes on the beach

One late afternoon, my daughter and I went out to the beach down the road from where we were staying. I wanted to watch the sunset, and she wanted to explore. She noticed, as she always does, the beauty of what was at her feet and saw things I would have otherwise missed. As we were wading through the shallow tide pools, we noticed heaps of small shells, most of which actually housed hermit crabs. Picking them up, holding them, and feeling their pincers tickle her hands was delightful to her, and I enjoyed seeing her so excited. We walked around one of the pools for a few minutes and gathered a few dozen thumbnail-sized hermit crabs into a group—I recently found out a group of hermit crabs is called a “cast,” hence the heading here.

There’s always one…

I worried we were terrifying the crabs by moving them around and disrupting them, so after a few minutes, we let them be and journeyed around the beach. The tide was out, so there was a long stretch of soft sand to sink into, and we spent time jumping in each other’s footprints and talking. A few minutes later, we wanted to go back to the hermit crabs. Most of them seemed content to stay where they were. Or, perhaps they were too scared to move much.

But there was one thing that caught my eye. A particular hermit crab with a salmon-colored shell had ventured quite a ways from the rest in pretty short time, leaving clear tracks behind it. The crab was still hoofing it when I noticed it. I don’t know how fast hermit crabs usually move, but this one stood out because it was pretty much the only one who had gone away at all from where we left it. I checked, and the others were most definitely not dead, by the way.

And this wee thing got me thinking.

One hermit crab (far right) wasted no time running away, leaving it’s tracks behind.

An up-close view of the miniscule sprinter

Stay still or move?

There has been a confluence of challenging events happening in my life lately, and I’ve been pondering how to proceed in light of many of them. We’re no strangers to facing confronting situations that compel us to move and adapt, having lived in new cities, engaged different cultures, and been forced to think introspectively as a result about who we are over the course of our lives. But, recently, I’ve been rather averse to moving quickly, content to remain in situations that had become normal. I hadn’t decided to remain static because I heard from God to stay still. I had sort of settled into the normalcy of where I was without consciously thinking about it—not necessarily overtly bad, but just not intentional about much of anything.

Sometimes holding firm is exactly the right thing to do. And change is hard, especially when there is resistance. But, there was something about this little hermit crab that gave me perspective on a few of the things going on around me. Perhaps this crab was the only rational one of the cast trying to escape the veritable buffet we created for the nearby birds. Perhaps it was so scared that moving was the only reasonable thing to do. Perhaps personifying a hermit crab is a pointless endeavor, and it’s just a crab doing what crabs do.

Nonetheless, part of me wants to be like that particular crab, the one that moved when others stayed still. I want to move, to press on, to just venture forward. Even if the destination isn’t fully in view, or maybe not even “right.” I just feel that moving is the right thing right now. In some instances, I want to move because others around me seem content sitting still.

Don’t over-extend the metaphor. Community is very good. So is being part of a group—I’m a huge fan of belonging in family as Christ-cenetered community. But, this cramped crustacean made me see that movement is valuable for me now.

Because the Scriptures say it better

In his letter to the Philippians, Paul urges a community that had done well to keep growing and moving. We see Paul urging the Philippians to cling, not to what they have in this world, but to what is of God, namely their heavenly citizenship (Phil 1:27¹ and 3:20). You should read the origin story of the church at Philippi in Acts 16:11-30 for why citizenship plays a huge part in the spiritual makeup of these folks.

In Acts 16, Paul and Silas refuse to leverage their citizenship to their own advantage in order to avoid public humiliation. Even moreso, Jesus, refused to leverage his true identity (divine sonship) to his own advantage to avoid public humiliation and death. Rather, they each leveraged their privileges for the sake of others, Paul and Silas for the newly forming church in Philippi, and Jesus for all humanity. The example of Jesus becomes what is arguably the most profound of all New Testament passages in Philippians 2:5-11.²

For Paul, living like Jesus required moving forward and pressing on. He goes on to say in 3:12-15a:

¹² Not that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal, but I press on to lay hold of that for which Christ has laid hold of me. ¹³ Brothers and sisters, I do not consider that I have laid hold of it, but one thing I have laid hold of: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, ¹⁴ I press on toward the goal, toward the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus. ¹⁵ Let those of us, then, who are mature think this way…

Because of what Jesus did, Paul’s status as a Jew of Jews was meaningless. His zeal for the Law? Rubbish. His confidence in the flesh? Hot garbage. He urges us to let go of what we find value in and move into what is ours (and superior in every way!) in Christ Jesus (Phil 3:4-11). The status of citizenship in Philippi, a Roman colony with huge emphasis on belonging to the empire,³ was no longer worth clinging to.

Our own ideas of identity apart from Jesus? Equally worthless. Living into and moving toward what is actually ours in Jesus is all that matters. And everything in this world that seems valuable should be gently held and fiercly leveraged for the benefit of others knowing who they are in Christ.

Some questions for you

I just needed to be reminded of that in a circuitous way, with a hermit crab who chose not to stay put.

Maybe that’s true for you. Or maybe you hear this story and think the sensible thing is to stay put—Paul does emphasize holding fast while pressing forward. That’s ok. Stories can mean different things to each of us.

The hermit crab kept trekking on regardless, and it challenged me to do the same.

• What are you pressing on toward?

• What are you clinging to?

• Why are you staying still?

• Why are you moving in that direction?

After my daughter and I spent more time admiring the hermit crabs, the sun was drifting behind the terrain. Looking up, I got lost in the moment seeing my eight year-old revel in the waning light.

Thanks for reading! Post a comment or question below—I love hearing what you think!

My daughter, Raya, stands toward the light of the sunset

1. The phrase, “live your life in a manner worthy” comes from the Greek, politeuesthe, which can be translated, “live as citizens worthy.”

2. For more on this passage and its implications, see N.T. Wright, “ἁρπαγμός and the Meaning of Philippians 2:5-11,” The Journal of Theological Studies Volume 37 (1986).

3. Joseph H. Hellerman, “The Humiliation of Christ in the Social World of Roman Philippi, Part 1,” Bibliotheca Sacra 160 (July-Sept. 2003)