As some of you know, I have had a long and varied journey with aquatics. It is better left unsaid the toll I have taken on marine life over the past few years, in trying to maintain the aquarium at the church office. Mrs. Paul’s has nothing on me, sad to say (Those of you who know me, understand that I cannot even bring myself to kill bugs). Any number of fish diseases threatens to beat you down and dissolve any illusion of the relaxing whirl of the filter wheels pouring a steady stream of water back into the tank and fish happily swimming in their watery home, like visions of sugar-plumbs dancing in your head. This has been the source of the occasional sermon illustration in times past, as I have tried to draw the connection between these aquatic maladies and the various temptations, threats and snares that beset the believer’s process of sanctification.
This week, I want to revisit a theme with which I started the year in Thursday Thoughts, namely the ordinary means of grace. By “ordinary means of grace, we are speaking of prayer, the Word preached, and the sacraments. And, I want to do this by again drawing a maritime analogy.
Recently, on the heels of the passing of Whitey the White Fish (so far, the longest-lived fish in the Good Shepherd aquarium), I decided to re-fish the tank. Now, Whitey was a type of goldfish. He was a beautiful and very responsive fish, who sat in on many Calvin’s Institutes classes and Session meetings. Goldfish are rather hearty creatures. There’s not much to keeping them – clean water, don’t overfeed, you get the picture. Another thing is that they need cold water (67ish degrees) to thrive. This is a good thing, because you basically don’t have to worry about water temperature. You just let the surroundings of the world around them regulate the water. With air-conditioning in the summer and heat in the winter, the water will stay a few degrees below room temperature.
Here in Bellevue, at the Emerald Bay, one finds all things aquatic, as well as, lizards, snakes, alligators, spiders – all of the things my wife hates. She can’t stand to get near the place, even though one of her favorite sandwich shops, Penn Station, is right next door. Anyway, I told them that I needed to buy a new goldfish, as I had had so much success with Whitey. My success with tropical fish paled in comparison to Whiety. The owner assured me that I was ready to try my hand again at tropical fish. It would add more color and variety to my aquarium. “Besides,” he said, “goldfish poop like mules.” (Disclaimer: my wife will chide me for including that last bit, so you shouldn’t feel the need to. It just makes me laugh every time I think about him saying that.)
Well, long-story-longer, I took Luke and Lydia in to select some tropical fish. I had reset the tank, calibrated the water (ph, nitrates, salt, etc.) to near perfect conditions. Lydia has a couple of mollies. Their names are Yellow and Spotty. Luke chose neon tetras. You have all seen these slim swims – silver, with a neon blue and red stripe. I believe they are in the same family as lightnin’ bugs; they glow. By the way, their names are Watery and Swimmery.
Upon purchasing these neon tetras, the fish man warned me that, of all tropical fish, none are more delicate and susceptible to water conditions. Immediately, I began to ask him how many chemicals and additives I would have to put into the water, like a frantic weekly rain-dance before the aquarium. His answer sort of surprised me. He said, while he would like to sell a bunch of stuff to me, the solution was pretty simple – proper feeding and warm, clean water.
I wonder how often the Church today looks for yet another bottle of something to pour into the mix, some new additive that will guarantee healthy, happy fish. Yet, something so simple, so sacred, and so… same is there for us. I am talking about the ordinary means of grace. We need the ordinary means of grace. And, we will build our church and invite the unsaved, the unloved, the untouched, the unconvinced, the unimpressed, and the un-Calvinized, not to gimmicks and additives, but to the ordinary means of grace. We will teach them about the means of grace, we will show them, we will shepherd them to participate in them.
You see, we, as pioneering Presbyterians, replanting our church, as it were, are called to what Scottish pastor and theologian, Thomas Boston (1676-1732), called The Art of Man-fishing. If you think about it, while we are in one sense sheep, we are also fish. Jesus ordained fishers of men to bring the gospel of salvation to us at some point in our lives. We were reeled in by grace, too. However, we are less like Whitey the White Fish, and more like Watery and Swimmery – delicate neon tetras, susceptible to any number of temptations and spiritual maladies. When fish like these are not properly fed, when the water gets to cold, they begin to droop and drift, listless and lifeless. In the means of grace, there is proper feeding for us. The Word preached, both its milk and meat, nourishes both the babes and mature in Christ. The sacrament of the Lord’s Supper weekly affirms and communicates to us the grace of the Word preached.
Remember, the guy at Emerald Bay said proper feeding and warm water for neon tetras. I have a little thermometer stuck to the inside of the aquarium. That’s good, for I must monitor the temperature of the water. But, a thermometer is just that, it is a meter for the water. I also have this cool looking heater mounted inside the tank. Other fish would be jealous of our mollies and neons, if they saw that heater. Plugged into the outlet, its element heats up the water with a fiery red glow.
It is one thing to be fed at the sacred desk (pulpit) and the sacred Table. But, without prayer, we will be cold. Eventually, we will droop and drift, susceptible to the things that surround and threaten us. And, it is not enough to know, theologically, that prayer is real and required, it must be entered into, plugged into the source – God the Father, by the access of the Son, by the power of the Spirit. If I had bought that heater, and even mounted it inside the aquarium, but left it unplugged… well, Watery and Swimmery would have joined their many finned-friends who have gone on before them.
This Sunday, I am preaching on the parable of the friend at midnight, from Luke 11:1-13. It is, in part about persistence in prayer. Moreover, it is about our Father to whom we pray. He is passionate for us. If I, who am suspect at best in my track record with aquatics, am willing to do whatever I can to keep Watery and Swimmery alive and afloat, how much more will our Father in heaven, who does all things well, empower and enliven us, if would pray.