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Psalm 107:
23-30 May
17, 2009 TWO FISHERMAN STORIES:
As perhaps you know, many of Jesus' followers were fishermen, and Jesus' home away from home – if you will – was in the fishing village of Capernaum on the banks of the Sea of Galilee. As such, it's no wonder that many of his teachings include stories or illustrations about life on the sea. Adlai Hardin was a long time member of our church and the one who carved the oak leaves around the organ casework and also the 4 panels in the Sheffield Auditorium. I also love the one he did of St. Peter that is permanently situated in the narthex of St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York City. It shows a rugged fisherman with a fishing net thrown over his shoulder, and on his countenance you can see both compassion and determination, qualities ever so necessary for all of us if we are to be faithful members of this fishing boat called the First Congregation Church of Old Lyme. Last Summer, Corinne and I were up in New Brunswick, along the Northumberland Strait, in a place where Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island and New Brunswick all come together. It’s a beautiful, quiet place that is still very much in touch with the rhythms of the sea. Although it is tough nowadays to make a living as a fisherman, there are still a goodly number of those in that area that do the best they can, fishing for lobster, crab, mackerel and tuna. Many of them are potato farmers during the day and fishermen at night. We met and talked at length with a local fisherman by the name Harold Trenholm, and I gained a real appreciation for the skill and the knowledge that a fisherman must have. They need to be well versed not only in all the equipment necessary for that profession – the mechanics of the boat and all the various fishing gear, but also of course they need to know all about the wind and the tides. Politics also come into play, and a fisherman needs to be well informed about quotas and the legalities of the different seasons. But, in addition to all that, I also found myself much impressed by the inner resources that are a prerequisite for that profession – courage, fortitude, hope, a good sense of humor, resilience, the ability to bounce back, and self-reliance just to name a few. Anyway, all of this led me to contemplate some of the fisherman stories found in the bible. Now, these stories seem rather implausible from a scientific perspective, which raises, I think, the question or how our bibles should be read. You can read the bible with the eye of a skeptic, asking yourself at every verse, “did this really happen”, but I’m afraid what you would end up with would be a handful of loose threads – the tapestry destroyed by over analysis. Sometime ago someone gave me a book with a title that I really like: Just Because It Didn’t Happen Doesn’t Mean It Isn’t True. This suggests, I think, a different way of reading the bible. We can, and perhaps at times, should read our bibles using all the scientific tools at our disposal. But if this is all that we do, if we use the question, “did this really happen” as a measuring stick for all the stories in the bible, I’m afraid we would miss out on some wonderful opportunities for wisdom and enlightenment, and so it is with the two "Fisherman Stories” I have selected for this morning, both of which strains normal scientific understanding of nature. Take for example the story of Jesus walking on the water. The disciples, some of whom were fisherman, were well acquainted with the Sea of Galilee. They were crossing over to the other side at night, and during the 4th Watch, the bible says, they saw Jesus walking on the water. Now, there are several different things we might do with this story. For those relentlessly in search of the historical Jesus, those that want to filter out everything except the facts and nothing but the facts, this is one of the stories that might be edited out of their bibles. Then there are others who would say that this is just one of those stories that we’ll “have to take on faith”, as we say. The bible says that Jonah was swallowed by a gigantic fish; the bible says that Jesus walked on the water; therefore, it must’ve happened, and if I can’t bring myself to believe it, well then, there must be something deficient about my faith. I have to say I have problems with both of these options and I would have us consider if there might be a different way of reading our bibles. “Just because it didn’t happen, doesn’t mean it isn’t true.” What would happen if we read this bible story in a different way? For example, what if we were to internalize this story of Jesus walking on the water? What if we were to think of Jesus and the disciples not as historical figures but rather as voices within ourselves, and what if we were to think of the Sea of Galilee not as, or at least not only as a specific geographical location, but also as a State of Mind? Think of how this would open up the possibilities of this story. Using free association, it would allow for a more playful reading of the bible. Instead of the drudgery of sitting down with a red pencil, trying to differentiate between fact and fiction, instead of having our minds and our hearts at war with one another, instead of feeling that we have to suspend all of our scientific understandings in order to be people of faith, this way of reading the bible as story allows for more opportunities for inspiration, wisdom and enlightenment. For example I think of this story of Jesus walking on the water and I think of how we sometimes say – as we all have from time to time -- “I’m having a hard time keeping my head above water”, with the water being a symbol, a perennial symbol for chaos, all those things that seem beyond our control, too much to do and not enough time to do it. There are negative voices within us that sometimes question our seamanship and our seaworthiness. We question the buoyancy of our souls, but if Christ was in Jesus as he was walking on water, and if we believe as we say we do that “Christ is all and is in all”, then, in a strange sort of way, this story of Jesus walking on the water, tells us something about ourselves. It would suggest that there are spiritual capacities within myself that need to be explored, that there is in our relationship with God the opportunity to rise above that “chaos, dark and rude.” Now, does this mean that we have the spiritual capacity to walk across the Connecticut River and never get our feet wet? I wouldn’t recommend it, no matter how tempting it might be given how congested I-95 sometimes is. But that’s not the intention of this story. The purpose of the story is to allow ourselves the opportunity to listen to those voices vying for attention within ourselves – the voices of negativity and the voices of possibility, to explore the deep inward relationship between divinity and humanity and in doing so, to imagine the possibility of spiritual buoyancy. I don’t know about you but I have known those who were able to “walk on water”, not in the sense that they were morally perfect, but in the sense that they had that uncanny ability to rise above the turbulence of their lives. I have known cancer patients and I have known those living under oppressive systems of injustice and I have known those who have experienced extraordinary grief who have exemplified that sort of spiritual buoyancy, the ability to walk on water and their example gives me hope that I too might find that same capacity within myself. The next “fisherman story” I would have us contemplate is somewhat similar. Jesus and the disciples are once again on the troubled waters of the Sea of Galilee, crossing over to the other side. Jesus, as you may remember, at least according to tradition was a carpenter, and at least several of his disciples were from Capernaum, right on the shores of the Sea of Galilee and had come from a long line of fishermen. They may not have known what Jesus knew about theology or carpentry, but you would have thought that seamanship would have been their field of expertise. So, if you take this story at face value, I think it’s altogether appropriate that Jesus, trusting in the skill of his disciples, the fishermen would fall asleep in the stern. But a storm comes up. The wind and the waves are beating against the boat, and the disciples, being terrified, complain that Jesus is sound asleep, seemingly oblivious to their crisis. Jesus awakes and says, “peace, be still”, and the wind and the waves are quieted and the disciples are amazed. Once again, if you try to read this story as historical fact, you run into a number of questions and problems, not only scientific ones but also theological ones. If Jesus was able to quiet the storm for the disciples, where is Jesus during the Tsunamis and the hurricanes and tornadoes that sometimes rip through our communities? Why this preferential treatment toward the disciples? Faced with such questions, some are inclined to cut this story out of their bibles as well – for being not only implausible but also unfair. I think of my friend Harold Trenholm and the number of storms he has had to face out on the open waters of the Northumberland Strait and the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Having heard this biblical story, I wonder how many fishermen, caught in a storm, have looked longingly in the stern of their boats, hoping to find some sort of divine interference, and in doing so, they fail to see the possibilities of divine guidance present within themselves. In the midst of any storm, the first and the most important “storm” that needs to be quieted is that which rages within ourselves. Only when we’re able to find that sort of calm spiritual equanimity are we then able to use all the skills and knowledge and expertise we have learned. So for me, I would rather internalize this story and think of it as being something of an allegory on the strange and sometimes strained relationship between Divinity and Humanity. In this story, try to think of Jesus and the disciples and the boat and the storm not as historical entities separate from one another. Rather this story is, at one and the same time both theology and anthropology. If God was in Jesus and Jesus was asleep in the stern of the boat, then this was God’s way of saying to those disciples, “I trust you. Indeed, I’m putting my life in your hands. Believe in yourself. Believe in your seamanship.” But the story is also realistic with regard to our human experience. No matter how good our “seamanship” might be, no matter how self-confident we may be, there are times for all of us when we feel overwhelmed by the storms of our lives, and at least for me, this story reminds me that there is always a divine presence in our lives, maybe asleep, maybe in a state of dormancy, but always there, and if we’re able to work in synchronicity with that Spirit, there will be a sweet equanimity to our lives, no matter what our circumstances might be. It is what we sometimes call the “peace that passes all understanding” and it is what we see in the words of St. Paul where he says, “I have learned, in whatever state I am to be content.” This morning (at our 9 o'clock service) we were honored to welcome the 21 members of our confirmation class, and if the church is like a fishing boat or a life boat, I like to think of them as the newest and youngest members of our crew. I don’t know whether you can see it or not, but this is a gift that I was given when I was confirmed. It’s a slice of wood that has on it a painting of a young man at the helm of a ship, trying to find his way through a storm. And standing behind him is a representation of Jesus, pointing the way that he should go. One of the things I like about this is that its theology doesn’t take away from human responsbility. Jesus doesn’t take over the helm of the ship, but places his hand on the boy’s shoulder, as if to say, “I believe in you. God believes in you. You are fearfully and wonderfully made. Trust in all the things you have learned from your fathers and your mothers. Trust in your seamanship, and know that I am with you always. Human ingenuity and divine guidance working together can do some wonderful things.” My hope is that the members of our confirmation class as they become even more involved in the work of our church will exemplify the same kind of spirit as the young man in this picture. God wants us to be the masters of our own boats. There are storms; there is turbulence; there are times when we all feel as if our seamanship is all in vain. But God is a presence in our lives – sometimes dormant, sometimes fully awake – but there, not to take over the helm of the ship, but to point us in the right direction, to restore our spiritual confidence, to help us to feel that inexplicable sense of buoyancy, and in the eye of the storm, in that place, that spiritual place called “the peace that passes all understanding” to be able to use and use effectively all the gifts that God has given us. Amen.
David W. Good Old Lyme, Connecticut
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