In the morning I go down to my dock to pray. I begin my prayer by reciting the ancient hymn Gloria: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth to people of good will…” For the last few years, I started throwing out little pieces of bread for any fish in the area while I chanted the words. After doing this for a few weeks, about a dozen catfish joined me in my para-liturgy – not to sing but to eat the bread.
Catfish live in the murky depths and usually scavenge for scraps of food on the muddy bottom. They are the epitome of ‘bottom feeders’. On these mornings, they look up from their gloomy surroundings and much to their delight see their next meal floating on the surface.
If the catfish could communicate its thoughts, would it see the bread and wonder “What’s this?” (‘what’s this’ happens to be the literal translation of the Hebrew word “manna”.) A good question since a catfish has no concept of grain, oil or fire. Or would the catfish muse: “What’s beyond the surface? What magnificent, providential creature is providing this delicious food?” Not likely.
As I toss out the bread, it would be easy for me to get delusions of grandeur. In my god-like status, I sit on my throne (it’s actually a wooden bench) on the edge of the dock reciting the hymn of angels and dropping manna from above to the poor creatures living in the lowest places of the world.
To keep me grounded in reality, however, a turtle has joined this ad-hoc congregation. The turtle has the advantage of being able to look at both the shadowy depths under the water and sunlit sky above. The turtle has become so familiar with the morning routine that he’ll swim right up to the edge of the dock and look me in the eye. If I were to be thinking “I am a god to these catfish”, the look in the turtle’s eye instead says, “No you’re not. You’re just a guy with some bread.”
My point in telling this story is that as we muddle around the murkiness of this crazy and confusing world, we need to be a little more like the turtle than the catfish. The catfish are unable to grasp the mystery beyond the surface or the ultimate source of this ‘gift of finest wheat’ (actually hamburger buns). They fight for a crumb or two and then return to the muddy bottom. The turtle, however, sees both the things above and the things below which gives it an enlightened perspective.
As you wander through the murky depths of your world, don’t forget to poke your head above the surface every once in a while to ponder the hidden mysteries beyond. God is waiting to fill you – not with just food but with delight, wonder and awe.
“For this momentary light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory as we look not to what is seen but to what is unseen; for what is seen is transitory, but what is unseen is eternal.” 2 Cor 4:17-18