Imaginary Fish: Perceptions as Acts of Faith

While guiding I have often said to fly fishers, “It sure helps if you can see the fish,” and I will often add, “But if you can’t see the fish imagine where the fish should be and cast to that fish”. Sight fishing, to a specific fish, real or imagined, is an art in which constant micro adjustments have to be made to get the fly to the fish.

Over the years, I have learned that not everyone can see the fish and nor can everyone read the water and imagine where they might be.  It can also be difficult for the fly fisher to picture where the fly is during the drift and where it is in relationship to the fish. It is critical to have the fly in the exact feeding lane of the fish and (if wet fly fishing) at the correct depth.  I try to tell people, if you can’t see the fly, try to imagine where the fly is drifting (picture it in your mind through out the drift), and at the same time try to  imagine where the fly is in relation to the fish.  But in trying to teach this skill I have noticed that if the fly fisher cannot perceive these things then most often his casts will be “off” target. And as a guide, I have to then say many times, “a little more to the left… to the right” etc. An accurate perception of these dynamics comes with years of experience and some imagination.

I think a vivid imagination helps in these situations. There are times when I cannot see the actual fish, nor my fly but I can still perceive about where they are (or hopefully should be). It is almost like a 6^th sense. Sometimes after making the proper cast and then while the fly is drifting, I can just sense the exact moment when the fish, even if I cannot see it, is going to take the fly.  I follow the fly through out the drift and then I get that sense, an indescribable perception that the fish is going to take the fly in the next moment. This of course does not happen all the time. But when it does it is a bit mysterious, a wonderful almost magical experience and one of the joys of fly fishing.

Maybe such imaginings are really at least in part, about having faith and hope, mixed in with some wishful thinking. Perhaps there is something to be said for acting as though something is already there…as though something already happened or is about to happen even when we can’t see it. Perhaps such imaginings, such vision and faith are all mysteriously related to when Jesus said , ”the kingdom of God is with in you”, and if the kingdom of God is really here or about to be here,  then we should act accordingly.

When I was a kid I played baseball in a “kingdom” of sorts mainly in my imagination.  I would go to a baseball field with a bat and ball and would play entire baseball games all by myself.  I would throw the ball up and hit it and depending on the quality of the hit I determined if it were a single, double, triple, a home run or an out. I batted for both teams, I retrieved every hit ball and played inning after inning. I played for hours.  I kept score. There was a lot of imagination to such games as I had to keep track of invisible base runners in my mind to score the games properly. I had to picture those runners in my minds eye.

Perhaps keeping track of imaginary base runners in one’s mind is similar to keeping track of where the fish are lying in the river. In your mind, in both baseball and fly fishing, you have to juggle several dynamics all at once.  And just as one can picture when that short fly ball to left field is going to drop in and that base runner on 2^nd is going to try to bolt home, the fly fisher can also picture when that huge rainbow, at a precise moment, is going to take the fly.  Perhaps this is all related to having faith and hope and playing within the kingdom of God.  

In all these things it sure is a lot more fun of you can see those invisible base runners;  if you can see that guy getting ready to sprint toward home.  It also is more fun if you can imagine where that 20 inch rainbow is lying among the rocks  and when it is about to take your fly.  

Maybe even just the perceiving itself is an act of faith.

Wrestling With Your Faith: Looking Below the Surface

I am grateful for the story “A River Runs Through It”, not just because it is story about fly fishing but because it is story about real faith. The novel of course was written by the eldest brother Norman Maclean. He tells the story of living in Montana, fishing with his brother Paul, and his father the reverend Maclean. Faith, life and fly fishing weave together with a river to form a beautiful and yet tragic story climaxing in the death of Paul, the younger brother.

I most deeply appreciate the fact that at no point in the novel does the author offer any kind of an explanation for the tragic loss of his brother. Nor, does he include any explanation given by his father, the reverend, a man of faith. This omission offers a refreshing contrast to simplistic explanations to life events I often hear spoken by people of faith.

Sometimes believers will offer explanations to the events of their lives that are far too simplistic or moralistic. Years ago, I once had a gentleman comment to me in regard to A River Runs Through It, that he was glad, “the right boy died”. In his mind, he made a moral judgment. In trying to be “moral” he missed the deeper heart of the issue. Not only did he miss the deeper heart of the issue but he also seemed to diminish the mystery of life and the heart of God. He reasoned incorrectly that it is somehow more “fair” that if a young man lives “recklessly” that it would be “better” or at least more fair that such a person is supposed to die rather than the elder brother who perhaps lived a “better” life. . In his mind, he skipped over the teaching of Jesus about making judgments and how God “causes rain to fall on both the righteous and the unrighteous”.

Over the years I have heard Christians offer all kinds of simplistic explanations for the things that happen to them.  I must confess that I have done the same until I got tired of hearing my own stupidity, arrogance and irreverence. Most things cannot be explained so simplistically and in terms of our own egocentric interpretation of God’s providence.  Life cannot be reduced to clichés such as “God is just testing me”. Or, “This happened because God is blessing my obedience” or “God is punishing me because of such and such” or even, “God is really at work here”. Often there are other explanations for life events, (our own stupidity being one of them), and we cannot be certain of much of anything. And sadly, as I have written elsewhere, our simplistic explanations are often the product of our own egocentric wishful thinking expressed thoughtlessly and superficially with meaningless, worn out Christian clichés.

These overused clichés are one of the clearest indications of an immature grandiose narcissistic faith. Such faith refuses to embrace the mystery of life and of God. It is a controlling faith rather than one of surrendering and typical of individuals who have not wrestled deeply with their faith.  

In contrast, Fredrick Buechner spoke about the need for a deep wrestling with one’s own faith. He went onto say, that until we do, we will not truly understand what “believing” means and we might be fooling ourselves and others. Buechner writes:

“If you tell me Christian commitment is a kind of thing that has happened to you once and for all like some kind of spiritual plastic surgery, I say you’re either pulling the wool over your own eyes or trying to pull it over mine. Every morning you should wake up and ask yourself, ‘Can I believe it all again’? No better still, don’t ask it till after you’ve read the New York Time, till after you have studied that daily record of the worlds brokenness and corruption, which should always stand side by side with your Bible. Then ask yourself if you can believe in the Gospel of Jesus Christ again for that particular day. If your answer’s always yes, then you probably don’t know what believing means. At least five times out of ten the answer should be no because the no is as important as the yes, maybe more so. The no is what proves your human.”

Unfortunately, many churches do not know what to do with mature believers who might say the “no” five times out of ten. Many churches are not very good at handling the deeper questions about our faith.  They misinterpret such wrestling as an indication of being negative, angry,  faithless, rebellious, ungrateful, backsliding or,(you can fill in the blank). The response is usually some predictable cliché and the vital paradox about faith is missed.

And there is a paradox going on here. Jesus often spoke of paradox. “The last shall be first and first shall be last”. “He who keeps his life shall lose it, he who loses his life shall find it.” There are others.  And, I think there is a paradox in regard to believing. Unfortunately, many of us are sort of conditioned to think that we have to work ourselves up into some dramatic expression of great faith and only then will God hear us. Yet perhaps this grandiose faith is not what God is looking for. And yet, on the contrary, when I hear a person say, and sometimes with tears, “I just don’t know if I believe in much of anything any more”, my ears perk up. And I think, if God hears our prayers at all, he is more inclined to hear the humble in heart.  I am reminded of the man with a sick daughter in Mark chapter nine crying out to Jesus, “Help my unbelief”, and Jesus responded. Perhaps, “less” is “more”.

When I read through the last pages of , “A River Run’s Through It,” I also see Norman Maclean remaining deeply human and refusing to use simplistic religious clichés to explain the loss of his brother. Norman feels it all deeply. He feels the pain. He feels the sadness. Norman wrestles with his faith and questions if he could have helped his brother. But he cannot answer this question. Nor, can he understand what happened with complete understanding.   In writing this novel, Norman Maclean leaves his family story in the realm of mystery which is where it should be.

Norman Maclean, right up to the end of his life remains deeply human and only suggests  “small” hints of  faith saying he “hopes that a fish might rise”, that, “eventually all things merge into one”. Anyone who has ever fished knows that fishing is really, at least in part,  about hope and faith. And the words, “Eventually all things merge into one” echoes scriptures that speak in regard to the “consummation of all things” that will some day take place. And in the end Norman is aware of the word, the logos, that his father was so fascinated with.  And like his father, he knows that in spite of everything that has happened, and in spite of what he does not understand,  that the word is “under the rocks” and under everything. The logos that is under and behind all mystery.