If you talk to several people about the ocean, you may well hear very different descriptions. For the person who has been swimming in the Atlantic or been on an ocean fishing boat, there will be accurate but different stories. I want us to consider knowing the ocean as a metaphor for knowing our infinite God.
If such a swimmer or fisherman comes into a classroom of Mid-Americans who have never been to the ocean (maybe 30m Americans), you will have much to tell them, and they will, well, they might, learn much. What could go wrong? These two people with firsthand ocean experience will know the feel of the ocean, the swells and smells and even the tides much better than someone who has been on a cruise ship.
Let’s say a third person visits another classroom, bringing a map of the ocean and a PowerPoint on the ocean’s size and economic importance, along with the kinds of marine life.
What would that be like? Would the impact be different? Which would you prefer to hear?
At one extreme, there would be a person who has survived a storm, maybe the fishing boat in the Perfect Storm movie, or the ice and storm-tossed sinking of the SS Edmund Fitzgerald in Lake Michigan (1975).
What a tale that would be.
Finally, at the other extreme, someone brought in a gallon of ocean water in a jug and said, “This is the ocean.” Would you laugh…even if it was indeed ocean water? Yes. Why?
Once we discern the benefits and shortcomings of various ocean reports, we are ready to consider how we tell and teach about God. When any one of us faces a class or congregation to talk about God and his creation power, his holiness, and the salvation we have from the work of Jesus. Which one of these ocean people are we? You can tell that our teaching about God must be robust, and that will come at a cost.
How many times have I presented a message that was no better than a gallon jug? How often have I, who have been swimming right up to the second sand bar, marveled at the ignorance of the timid souls who barely get their toes wet? How many real sailors, in their turn, including my father (Navy World War II in the Pacific), would smile at my naivete?
We must bring some experience, some rough times, failures, and suffering into our teaching not only to make it more palatable but also to deepen it beyond a thin understanding and experience. It’s not pleasant to tell your spouse that you gave a ‘gallon of ocean’ speech. Less pleasant if she told you. We must evaluate: are we at the first sandbar? On a cruise ship? Have we been in a storm on the ocean of God’s love and power?
Before closing, I want to take this to a new level. What if one denomination is like the North Sea and another serves in the Gulf of Mexico; maybe the Catholic Church occupies the Pacific Ocean. Any one of these groups can say that they know, and know intimately, about God or the ocean from their travels, from their studies, from their commerce, from their exploration, even from the storm and the stars.
Yet there would be disagreements between those from the South Pacific and the North Sea. Each might think there was something fundamentally wrong with the other. Of course, they have very much in common that must not be forgotten, and there can be real and serious errors, but there are some differences that come from regional, we might say, cultural perspectives.
So, who can tell us about the ocean? Can anyone really know the entire ocean? We haven’t even talked about the ocean floor or life at its depths. We must say with Paul, “Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out!
If you ever see me and think that I am delivering a mere “gallon of ocean water’ talk, you have permission to let me know (afterward, please). I hope you have someone who will do the same for you.