|My son looking at the ocean (summer 2010)|
And even though beach-goers everywhere take it for granted, it really is a daring act to walk along the edge of something so powerful and vast, so predictable (waves and tides) and yet so unpredictable (hurricanes and undercurrents).
Just yesterday a guy I know saw a man drown at Myrtle Beach in South Carolina. It's no wonder the ancient Jews and early Christians imagined sea monsters lurking just beneath the surface (see Daniel 7:2-3), and pictured the final eschatological scene devoid of the sea (see Revelation 21:1). They had to account for the fact that some people went out to sea and never returned.
But, there is still something that pulls us there to jump the waves, to smell the air, to feel the sand, to see the sun rise. So we're off to the beach to stand in the space between power and mystery, sun rises and sun sets, high tides and low tides. And hopefully we'll all come back refreshed, convinced that the world is charged with grandeur that far exceeds what any of us can see on the television or in the mirror.
Who Was St. Patrick?
Hybrid Faith, Sporks, & Mules