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Today as I was wandering around the local five and ten in Lavalette, I overheard a conversation between a mom and her young daughter who was maybe 5 years old. The mom was giving her a rundown of the day, "We'll go the beach and relax, do a little shopping, get something to eat."
With barely a second's pause the little girl responded, "Well, I guess life is good."
Kids do say the darndest, and truest, things!
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Having moved from the status of Benny to that of Local during the past few years at the Jersey shore I thought I had a pretty good handle on shore life.
But one late afternoon walk along the beach in October taught me that I had a lot to learn—about fishing.
Leaning on the boardwalk rail, I watched what I thought was a strange phenomenon unfold. Groups of fishermen and fisherwomen were all decked out with their fishing stuff along the water’s edge—coolers, rods, bait, boots and heavy socks, warm and waterproof clothes and a real enthusiasm for what they were undertaking. There seemed to be lots of good natured bantering going on and everyone appeared settled in to their own spot on the beach.
Then suddenly, as if some voice heard only by people with fishing poles had loudly announced, "STAGE LEFT," the whole group began moving in unison down the beach. I looked around to see if I had missed something; a brawl maybe, or a turned-over kayak, anything that might have spurred the group, but I saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Thinking it was just a fluke, I repositioned myself against the railing and continued my daydreaming.
Not five minutes later, the whole group again began their shift down the beach.
"What the heck is going on?" I thought to myself, again trying to figure out the impetus for the sudden move.
When it happened a third time I finally experienced the "AHA!" moment.
Seagulls.
It seemed everyone but me knew that when seagulls hover, or swoop and dive, over a spot in the surf, there are fish. When the birds changed position so did a beach full of people.
As I was watching I thought of Jesus’ words, "I will make you fishers of men."
Now, more than 2,000 years later, we are a Church filled with people called to be fisher men and women, but we often remain uncertain as to where to cast our lines.
But the signs are there. What is required of us is attention.
From his deathbed in 1963, Pope John XXIII emphasized a conviction which stood at the heart of Vatican II: "It is not that the Gospel has changed; it is that we have begun to understand it better. Those who have lived as long as I have …were enabled to compare different cultures and traditions, and know that the moment has come to discern the signs of the times, to seize the opportunities and to look far ahead."
The Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, one of the documents coming out of the Second Vatican Council, relays the same thought, "… the Church has always had the duty of scrutinizing the signs of the times and of interpreting them in the light of the Gospel … We must therefore recognize and understand the world in which we live, its explanations, its longings, and its often dramatic characteristics."
As the people who make up the Body of Christ we must continue to discern the signs and embrace the opportunities we have to be light in the world; we must look hard and honestly at our longings, personally and communally, and consider how the fruits of those longings are manifested, for good or for ill. We need to ask ourselves what influences affect our families, our communities, our schools, our attitudes, our behavior. How can our response in faith make a difference?
I’ve discovered that it is not enough to rest comfortably against the railing and daydream. We must be awake and aware and enthusiastic enough to actually fish if we are to make a difference in our world, in our families and in our Church. Otherwise we will be left behind on an empty beach while the secular world moves along—with our faith in tow.
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Knowing my passion for penguins, my son and and his fiance gave me this little book entitled Flipping Brilliant: A Penguin's Guide to a Happy Life. The photographs are outstanding, the ecological information is great, and the bits of penguin wisdom always make me smile. Wish I could share the photos, but here's a thought for the day from the book:
"A day at the beach can cure a vast array of ailments. Even notice that there are no psychiatrist offices at the beach? For penguins, the sea is for hunting, and the ground is for mating and nesting. The small strip in between, then? Well, maybe that's where they decompress for just a few moments and take a break from the exhausting cycle. There's nothing like a little sun and salt air to readjust your attitude and refresh a body for the daily trials ahead."
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