Yesterday I sat and “listened” for a while down at the lake. I noted a number of things. First of all, the surface of the water is like a mirror. It is so still; it speaks of serenity and peace. In that stillness, it creates an amazingly beautiful reflection of the forest, the clouds, the blue sky, the beauty of creation surrounding it. It is gorgeous. But as I pondered, I noticed the edges of that reflection are blurred, fuzzy, and abstract-looking. The mirror image of the forest and clouds and sky is actually upside down. What I am looking at in the reflection is a topsy-turvy view of reality. When the water is disturbed, the reflection is no longer clear or even visible. If this image is a metaphor for our lives, looking at the surface can be beautiful but distorted or even misleading. I am reminded of Lucy Shaw’s poem, (“M. C. Escher’s Three Worlds”): “Rooting in the water mirror, the bare branches are only abstractions of themselves at two removes, recognizable but reversed, a platonic idea of trees. The top rim of this rendering we discern as the bottom of the real, guessing that for Escher actual elms stretched up from there, on an edge of land fictional for us except as probability.”
One would hope that as Christians, the reflection people see is that of Christ. That when we are healthy and still, peaceful and serene, what they see when they look at us is God. Therein lies an encouragement to keep healthy, to nurture stillness before God, to be present with God so that the reflection is of Him. If we are mirroring Him well, others will be drawn by the reflection to look up, to see Him directly. “…we can be mirrors that brightly reflect the glory of the Lord. And as the Spirit of the Lord works within us, we become more and more like him and reflect his glory even more.” 2 Corinthians 3:18.
Also, this image serves as a reminder that when others look at us, they can’t see down into the depths. They may see the ripple effects, or we may invite them to see what is below, but unless that happens they do not know the inner depths and are only responding or reacting to what is on the surface, what we reflect back to them. When we look at others, what we see is only the surface. It is a distorted reflection. Even Christians are not clear reflections of our Lord. If we want to see reality, if we want to see Him, we must look up, allow the reflection to turn our eyes to Him directly. When Christians fail, we have to keep in perspective that they are not God, and so it would be inappropriate to be mad at God for their failings, or to react as if God were flawed the way His reflection is flawed in them.
Then I noticed that, occasionally, something will drop into the lake—a leaf, a needle, usually something small. And yet, even though the object that disturbs the surface is little and touches the water gently, it creates ripples that eventually cover the entire lake. Likewise, occasionally, something comes up out of the water. I couldn’t tell if they were fish or snakes or frogs or what, but in the same way as the external things disturbed the surface, these disruptions that come from under the water create ripples that eventually cover the entire lake. If we are the lake, we have to be aware that all of our lives are affected by external things over which we have no control and even internal things over which we have no control. They will have their ripple effect over our entirety. One message here is that, eventually, the calm returns. The effect is over. The ripples have covered the entire surface, and they are done. Disturbances have a finite life. They do affect us entirely, but only for a time.
When we look at others, we have no idea what is going on beneath the surface. In fact, when we look at ourselves, there is much darkness and mystery below the surface. And yet, the surface is a very small percentage of the lake’s entirety. There is much life underneath—snakes, frogs, insects, plants, and fish. There is also pollution which eventually can kill all the life if it is not dealt with. This means there are times when we have to brave the dark, murky unknown to clear out the debris, to remove the trash, the toxins. We are responsible to keep the lake of our lives clean and that is not easy or comfortable or desirable. Diving down involves fear, courage and risk. We come up stinking and covered with muck, but it is necessary if these lakes of our lives are going to be healthy ecosystems, if life is going to survive and thrive. The alternative is that the pollution and trash eventually make the water stagnant so that all life dies and the water stinks and the surface is covered such that there is no reflection at all.
Each lake is totally unique, in its shape and what surrounds it, what life is within, what sorts of things happen at its shores and on its surface. Some are good for boating, others for swimming, some for use in fighting fires, some inspire worship, some are picturesque and others so remote they are seldom seen. Some, like that at Calvin Crest, have an island within, where celebration and rest, fun and relaxation may take place or be provided for others. Each has a unique design and purpose; this is true of each of us as well. Our job is to keep the lakes that are “us” clean and healthy as places for the life within to thrive, and the life nearby to be nurtured, for the reflection to be clear, for the children to play and recreate and have fun, for others to be inspired and have their eyes turned towards God and authentic reality.
God is the ground that holds the lake and forms the boundaries of it. “Have no fear; the edges of the earth, the rims of rock are a foundation under you,” (Lucy Shaw in “Seeing the Shore.”) “The fringed edges between daylight’s glare and dusk teach how the water’s bank casts a shadow of rest; how fixed and finite lie the dark stones at bottom.” (Lucy Shaw in “On the River Bank, Bibury.”
God is the source of the life and fresh water, the creator of the bordering beauty, the air which surrounds it and sustains life in it. We see God’s movement in the refreshing breeze that moves across the surface, the violent winds that shake the forest and blow all sorts of debris into the lake, the thunderstorms that create fireworks and pelt the lake… So what “disturbances” from without and within are you or am I experiencing right now? Do we need to dive down and remove debris and pollution and trash? Is it a healthy eco-system? What needs to happen to make it healthier? Is it serving its unique purpose? How is God’s presence evident? A breeze? A storm? Holding, grounding, bounding?
