Put out into the deep water
Strong Men, tidal waves, and valentines
Recently, I shocked someone when I told them that Valentine’s Day is my favorite holiday. (“That would not have been my guess, Heidi!”) Some readers may know this about me; I have posted about Valentine’s Day a couple times in my newsletters and blogging and how much I love it.
If, in the middle of winter, there is a chance to practice joy and love that involves hearts, pink, red, heart-shaped cookies and chocolates, sweet little cards, and real mail, sign me up. Valentine’s Day has never been about romantic love for me: my foundational memory of the holiday comes from my all-girls high school where it was a day of fun, affection, and red and pink themed bake sales. My classmates passed out valentines to everyone, something I wish people did in the real world.
What if Valentine’s Day was a holiday about love as a crucial part of this life on earth? Not just for couples or Galentines but a playful, colorful day for everybody? Where we remind ourselves that love, compassion, and friendliness are what make life worth living? That it’s great fun to give people who aren’t expecting it valentines, candy, or something cute that’s red or pink? Once, I handed out little red wooden hearts that I’d gotten at Target or Michael’s at a yoga class on Valentine’s Day. And even I, Heidi, Heart Day aficionado, was surprised by the open-mouthed, utter delight of those dozen people when I put a little heart into their hand.
We are less than a month into this new administration. Many are already in full fight, panic, hibernation, and denial mode. MAGA controls all three houses of government. There is a power-hungry, maniacal man wreaking havoc on government offices and computer systems. There are probably other things happening that we do not know about. More things will happen, every day, for a long time.
I said to a friend recently: This is not going to be a sprint, it’s going to be a marathon.
She, a runner, said: No, Heidi. — It is going to be an ultra-marathon.
In order to run the ultra-marathon set before us, I wonder if it would be helpful to reality-check expectations: that what is occurring in the government of the United States of America right now cannot be entirely stopped or prevented. There is a tidal wave upon us and Big Damage is happening. Some damage can and will be thwarted, thanks be to God, but many things are going to be destroyed, including the lives and livelihoods of real people. It is tragic and awful and wrong but we should be prepared: things are not going to go back to “normal” or be “fine” if only we work or fight hard enough.
I have been reflecting on times in history when people realized a tidal wave was coming. First, I think of people in Banda Aceh in 2004 and Fukushima in 2011, who felt the earthquake or saw the ocean start to pull away from the shore. I think of the people who were alive as southern states began seceding from the Union in 1860, or as the financial markets crashed in 1929. I think of people in Germany or anywhere in Europe as the late 1930s unfolded, or in India and Pakistan in 1947 facing the declaration of the Partition, or in Gaza or Israel waking up on October 7, 2023 — to anyone arriving to a time when the world as they knew it was breaking apart before their eyes into irrevocable and vast change and many, many people would be brutalized or died in the process.
What would I say to those people? To someone like me who was standing in that time and place? What would I tell them to do or think? Honestly, there is no answer to this question. But here is something I have been thinking about as I also admit to myself that I have no idea.
This Sunday’s gospel reading (Luke 5:2-11) is the story of Jesus calling some fishermen to become his disciples. Luke tells this story differently than Mark or Matthew, where the ask-and-answer happens quickly: the fishermen drop their nets and take off. In Luke, it happens slowly: Jesus gets into the boat with the fisherman and tells them to keep fishing but to "put out into the deep water.”
What do you hear in this teaching?
Go out into the deep water, farther from shore, where things may be unpredictable and dangerous. Then focus more intently and deeply on what you are already doing. See what happens.
In the gospel, when the fishermen cast their nets in the deep water, what happens is their nets are overwhelmed, almost broken by abundance and overflow.
But when Peter sees the immense catch of fish filling his boat, he is overcome with what we now call imposter’s syndrome and blurts to Jesus: "Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!”
That feels familiar to me. How often do you begin a good work, are offered an important opportunity, or are admired for your gifts or skills, then shrink or become afraid that you have fooled people? Or that something will be expected of you that you are not sure you are capable of? For me: pretty darn often.
But Jesus says: “Do not be afraid.” We can hear Jesus saying this to us, too. Maybe it is a mantra to say, over and over, in these days and months and years ahead - Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid.
The version from Star Wars: “Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, and hate leads to suffering.”
From Dune “I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”
Jesus tells Peter not to be afraid, that he will still basically doing what he has been doing: “You will be fishing for people.” He and the other fisherman are being asked to do something difficult, but not unknown or incomprehensible.
What is something you already feel called or know how to do? What is something you will be able to keep doing and growing in doing even when you are challenged, tired, and demoralized, later?
My cousin is a law student and as she grappled with “what to do” in the face of the headlines, someone she respects told her: “Your job in this time is to be a student: to learn all you can to be ready for what will come next.”
Two people in the last month have told me something like: “I am a fighter. My job is to figure out how God is calling me to fight right now.”
I feel myself centering down into things I already do: prayer, writing, work as a spiritual director, donating money, and being present to the students I work with — but with my nets cast deeper, my investment and perseverance sharpened and strengthened. I am not very good at confrontation or activism, but I try to focus on how I can support others who can be good at those things.
Finally, it’s important to notice that Jesus calls the fishermen to follow and be disciples together. They are to be a community, not to go it alone.
I am not saying that you have to engage with Valentine’s Day, because I know there are people who can’t stand it or have bad memories associated with it.
But the message I find in pink hearts and little cookies (dark chocolate hearts with sprinkles from Trader Joe’s are especially good) is that human life and triumph are not defined by the cult of the Strong Man. That will-to-power, threats, bullying, and breakage will not win in the end. In Christianity, and, I want to believe, in the American and democratic story, too, it is relationships, community, creativity, and compassion that will prevail.
We are beginning an ultra-marathon.
Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid.
Discern what work is uniquely yours to do. Put out into the deep water. Be ready for abundance and hardship, both. Find your community.
Maybe pass out chocolates and little paper hearts.
With love and wishing you a fun and restorative Valentine’s Day,
Heidi
With thanks to Pastor Emily Goodnow for discussing Luke 5 with me this week!
THINGS I’M READING
The Fellowship of the Ring, by J.R.R. Tolkien. I haven’t read this in decades, but I needed to spend some time with hobbits this month and inside a world where people face down evil and the will-to-power. (Not enough complex women characters, but oh well.)
Home by Toni Morrison. Morrison is amazing - breathtakingly good. I often read books - fiction and nonfiction - to help me think about what “home” means, a topic I have been obsessed with for most of my life. (I am now back in my hometown, Hyde Park, too.)
A Brief History of Black Holes, by Becky Smethurst. I recently have been gobsmacked by black holes (there’s one at the center of our galaxy, folks!). Months ago, I told a student here at Disciples House I was going to write about them, and a couple weeks ago he asked me how it was going, and it wasn’t, so I went to the library to get some books, including this one, to dig back in. I continue to be gobsmacked.
SOME OF MY BOOKS
Holy Solitude - A book about solitude, prayer, fasting, and almsgiving as Lenten practices. Original title was “Lent With Hermits.” — Lent starts March 5.
Everyday Connections: Reflections and Practices for Year C - Deep reflection, sermon prep help, and engaging for small groups. I filled these books with meaty questions, humor, ideas, and juxtapositions that I hope will surprise and make you think, because that’s what I want in a devotional myself.
Free bookplate - I will mail you two signed bookplates if you fill out a form on my website. No strings attached and I don’t keep your address.
New here? Want to know more? For more about me and my other books and writings, check out my website.