What is Reflecting What?

It’s an overcast Sunday morning. I leave the house at about 6:50 and head to The Strand.

It’s a peaceful drive up PCH. The last stop light at Del Prado is out and blinking red and it was out yesterday as well. Doesn’t seem to be affecting traffic flow right now.

I turn the corner onto the straightaway toward Selva and then pull into the parking lot not too long after.

There are a couple police SUVs parked on Selva but the officers just seem to be talking amongst themselves.

After I park and as I am getting my stuff together, I hear someone yelling and swearing in a not entirely coherent manner. Maybe that explains the police?

I don’t see anything out of the ordinary on the stroll down the stairs. It is super pleasant here. Despite the overcast conditions, the air temperature is near perfect even without a shirt.

Once I get to the ramp and have a view of the beach, it’s a lovely, slumbery, misty landscape.

A lone kayaker is sitting out just past the main surf break. I think he (or she) is fishing.

The water feels like it has all week on my feet - like a stroll along a tropical beach somewhere. I wonder how long these conditions will stick. It always seems like the 70 degree water here can be a bit erratic. It comes and goes during the summer months but it has been solid for over a week now. Every year that I have been doing this (this is my 4th summer), there is some upwelling event that brings the temps temporarily down to the low 60s. Nothing like that is in the forecast yet. Last year it came in August.

There are a couple boats out just offshore of where I am standing on the shore here. One looks like a commercial tour fishing vessel.

The swell is allegedly still at play but the surf seems down a bit from yesterday and I make my way out into the water.

I’m wearing different goggles today. I bought another pair about 6 months ago but they are not as comfortable as my primary pair. However my primary pair is leaking which I think is going to downgrade their “primary” status. As I fasten this pair, they feel comfortable enough and I can put my head underwater and see without water in the eyes. It’s a modern day miracle.

I head south. I stop about a third of the way down the beach to take in the scenery. There are a handful of surfers just sitting and waiting for the next set to my left and that same kayaker that I saw coming down the ramp is on my right.

I fiddle with my camera. I have decided not to talk about my new camera frustrations anymore unless it does something like punch me in the face. If that happens I will make sure to mention it.

It’s a very peaceful swim here. The water is so blue and almost black as I look down toward the floor. It’s hard to know what king of an impact these goggles are having on the lighting. They are tinted which is actually a super nice feature when the sun is out around sunrise. They are definitely clearer than my other pair which have grown kind of gross over the past several months. I think there might be some stuff on them that would technically be considered to be alive.

I just finished this super interesting book earlier this morning: Biblical Literalism: a Gentile Heresy by John Shelby Spong. Spong was the Episcopal bishop of Newark, New Jersey for several years and a well known biblical scholar. His premise is that the gospels were intended to be written as liturgy and not historical eye witness accounts. I’ve read many books that talk about the authorship of ancient scriptural texts from various faiths. Most of them tend to agree that the communities that developed these texts did not share the historical or scientific rigor of our modern literature. These texts enjoyed much more creative license than we give them credit for and served as a means for a spiritual community to reimagine the cosmology they inhabit.

Spong’s book was interesting because it talked about this in much more specific terms focusing on the Jewish culture of the first century and the historical traditions of Jewish literature and symbols. He claims that once the gospels fell into the hands of predominately gentiles, they began to be interpreted more literally and have given birth to more fundamentalist style interpretations we are familiar with today.

I’m not sure if I agreed with him on every point or at least share the same conviction and fervor of some of his underlying themes but I do find it fascinating how so many people interpret the bible so incredibly differently. Shelby is not really introducing a groundbreaking concept. His views are shared across many many liberal scholars. What was unique about his book is that he walked through the entire Gospel of Matthew and showed how it could be interpret as a liturgical text around a single calendar year in which many of the key events reflected major Jewish holidays.

I grew up in mainstream evangelical Christianity that interprets the bible literally and views it as the inerrant word of God. I know longer share this view, but having grown up in it I understand the mindset. I think most who grow up and remain in this institution or at least live within it for years tend to have little exposure to any other way of interpreting the bible. One thinks you either “believe in the bible” or you don’t. And to believe means taking everything literally. What I also find interesting is that regardless of the insistence on literalism, everyone even in ultra conservative circles, draws some line on what is literal and what is not. Jesus tells the “rich young ruler” to sell all of his possessions, give them to the poor and follow him. I don’t see that happening in the mainstream here.

In the beginning of his book, Spong talks about how much he cares about the church and following Christ. However, I think the mainstream evangelical take on someone like Spong is that they are clearly in the wrong, they are misleading others away from Christ and he needs to repent. I’m sure many would see him as evil and even demonically influenced.

Earlier this week I was watching my church’s sermon from last Sunday that I missed on YouTube. I enjoyed the sermon. The pastor was talking bout the faith of Abraham and how Paul talks about that faith being reckoned as righteousness. I find the story of Abraham incredibly inspiring and insightful even if I am not convinced that there was a single historical figure named Abraham. It doesn’t matter to me if he was historical because much of the teachings I take from his story I see reflected in my own life. They give me hope and I can infer plenty truth from the text. That’s all cool even if my pastor thinks otherwise. I’m enjoying the sermon. Then at the very end of the sermon, the pastor is getting worked up (I’m right there with him) about the faith of Abraham and then starts talking about how we have to remain steadfast to he word of God and not what liberal theology is saying.

Oh man...did he have to say that? It was all good up to that point. I identify with “liberal theology” and hearing this just makes me feel yucky. Can’t we just disagree on these details but celebrate our dedication to following Jesus? Welp, I’m just gonna have to let this one go.

So here I am swimming in this vast vast huge ocean where what one thinks about various theological details is so incredibly irrelevant. I’m looking at the water’s surface both from above and below and just want to penetrate into that deep deep endless and boundless blue. Whatever matters is right here in this water and inside me and always has been. As I search within my own mind for the image of Jesus, I can’t help but to see that image imprinted on everything I see on this beach. That image reflects off of everything I see around me and I honestly can’t tell which is which - the image or the reflection. What is reflecting what?

I eventually find myself in the presence of Big Bob just offshore from the northern bathrooms here. Hmm. It looks like Big Bob stole someone’s paddle. Weird.

I orbit the buoy and head back. I need to get home in time for my wife to get to church and I suddenly grow paranoid that I am late so I put a little extra umph into my stroke.

I reach the shore and walk quickly up the stairs and to my truck. I turn the ignition and look at the clock. Whew, I’m not too late.