Wednesday, November 9, 2022
Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica in Rome
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
One fish, two fish
Wherever the river flows, every sort of living creature that can multiply shall live, and there shall be abundant fish, for wherever this water comes the sea shall be made fresh.
When Jasper and I fish these days, we use 30 inch rods and Zebco reels that cast smooth as silk. Jasper’s been watching me, and he’s learning how to cast the rubber fish at the end of his line a few feet down the sidewalk.
We aim for a five gallon bucket half full of water. Who knows what fish might be hiding in there? This bright orange bucket has a sign on it that says it’s Homer’s All-Purpose Bucket, but we’ve been using it for awhile, and Homer hasn’t been by to claim it.
I loved to read about fishing when I was a kid. Specifically, I read McElligot’s Pool by Dr. Seuss, over and over. I didn’t catch real fish in the real streams and lakes around Lincoln, Illinois, but my imagination helped me recover my equilibrium. So what if I don’t catch fish? One of these days … oh yes, one of these days … all kinds of whales and sharks will swim upstream from the ocean, all the way to Lincoln, Illinois.
Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? The temple of God, which you are, is holy.
I met my long-time friend Don forty-five years ago on a dock. He was visiting a roommate, and I was reading about fishing. I had a worm in the water, and Don came out to say hello. He shouted, “You’ve got a bite!” I looked up from my book. Well, by golly, so I did.
It was a big fish, and when it came to big fish, I had only read McElligot’s Pool. I was flummoxed, but Don saved the day, as well as the big northern pike on my line, and my book didn’t get very wet, and we were happy. Since then we have been happy over and over, but I have not ever caught another big pike like that, with Don or anyone else.
For a few weeks I took our rowboat and rowed out to the middle of big Lake Mendota, where we lived outside Madison, Wisconsin. I put worms in the water, but mostly I read books about fishing while the boat rocked back and forth, and back and forth. I don’t know if I got any bites.
Now it’s the Feast Day of the Pope’s church in Rome, the one with fifteen “colossal” statues outside, dedicated in 1646. The river flows, and every sort of living creature is drawn to the bosom of God. Of course a concrete church is not exactly the bosom of God, but it certainly will do until we experience the real thing.
Wherever this water comes the sea shall be made fresh.
Let’s go fishing, Don! We’ve been to the Mississippi River and countless lakes. Fishing is kind of in our blood, at least in mine when we’re together. But I have to admit it’s mostly the mystery that draws me, the sense of being underwater and above it at the same time, letting the fish call the shots, learning the skill of patience, receiving as best I can the grace of love for the creatures and for each other.
The Franciscans say, “The dedication of a church is a feast for all its parishioners. In a sense St. John Lateran is the parish church of all Catholics, because it is the pope’s cathedral.”
Don is Catholic. So are many of my best friends.
“This church is the spiritual home of the people who are the Church.”
Let’s go to church, have a feast, get on with learning the Grace of love for all creatures and for each other.
When I put my ear to Homer’s All-Purpose Bucket, I hear the sound of fish running. And in the distance, an organ plays wonderful, righteous chords.
Along both banks of the river, fruit trees of every kind shall grow; their leaves will not fade, nor their fruit fail. Every month they shall bear fresh fruit, for they shall be watered by the flow from the sanctuary. Their fruit shall serve for food, and their leaves for medicine.
(Ezekiel 47, Psalm 46, 1 Corinthians 3, 2 Chronicles 7, John 2)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
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