Deep Calls To Deep



I have been meeting with a new parishioner for breakfast on Wednesday mornings. Our time together doesn’t have any agenda; it is simply to sit, chat about any and all sorts of things, including religion, theology, politics, history, and personal life journeys, over a meal and coffee. When we met last week, he brought a text to my attention. The text is part of Psalm 42:7a: Deep calls to deep. I am very familiar with the text but haven’t really thought much about it. 

You know how you can be so familiar or knowledgeable about something- an idea, or in this case, a scripture text that you feel you don’t have to dwell on it so much. And then, as a result of a conversation, the light bulb switches on; there is an epiphany, and then you find yourself reminding yourself that you have not spent time on that text, and you need to.

I cannot tell you why I haven’t thought more deeply about verse 7 because I do not know why, even though I read Psalm 42 often. Is it likely that I am attracted to some portions of the psalm more than others? It is possible.

When I heard the text, I told him a story about a friend I knew way back in Ghana. This was even before I went to seminary. In their living room was a wood carving with the exact same words - Deep calls to deep. This wood carving was situated in a very prominent place in that living room. This friend’s father is an evangelist and a staunch Methodist.

I don't remember asking the friend or her father if the wood carving with the text had any special meaning. But I remember that it always, always caught my attention.

I have spent the past week thinking about the text, especially now that summer is over, school has reopened, and kids are in different grades, meeting different students with whom they will form lifelong relationships. We will also begin our program year with new life buzzing on our campus. There’s a lot going on in all our lives, and I've yet to see one life that hasn’t experienced some growth or change. I heard from someone that the only constant is change.

Indeed, it is true that the only constant in our lives is change, and this change invites us to adapt, so we can face life’s challenges, give up on some of the things that bring little to no solace in our lives, hold on to the people who renew our faith, and tap into the wellspring from whose deep resource we can draw infinite amounts of divine guidance, sustenance, and refreshment. 

It only takes the deep to notice that which is deep; it only takes the deep to resonate with the things and people that are deep; it only takes the deep to notice the deep well of lack and the means of meeting that lack; it only takes the deep to acknowledge the dearth of intimacy with God and the reality that God offers intimacy to those who desire to be intimate with God, and it takes the deep to understand the value of letting go of things. It takes the deep to call to the deep.

For me, that is one reason why the Center of Spiritual Nourishment at Christ Church is such a rich, meaningful, and great addition to our common life. The Center helps us to go deep. It helps us to dig and dig and dig. And it does so with the firm, conscious idea that without digging deep, you wouldn’t find that which is hidden in you and your neighbor, and why you have to be deep in order to call to the deep. The Center meets this Saturday at 8:30, and I hope you will join us as we all learn how to be deep enough to call the deep.

I believe that the one who is deep in faith and grounded in the sacred goes through this constant cycle of letting go. Not only because it is therapeutic, but because it frees us so God can imprison us with the Godself.

There is a story of a poor man who owned nothing, just a loincloth and a small begging bowl. For whatever reason, the man became so famous that the queen of the land invited him to the palace for a meal. After the meal, the queen asked for the man’s simple bowl, and as a gift for the man, the queen gave him a golden bowl.

A clever thief heard of the golden bowl from the queen and followed the man. That night, after eating from the golden bowl, the poor man threw the golden bowl outside his hut, and it landed right at the feet of the thief.

The thief was stunned. What he was ready and willing to risk everything for, the man had easily thrown away. He rushed to the poor man’s hut and asked him this question. “Why did you throw away something so precious?” The poor man replied, “If I had kept it inside, you would have stood outside worrying about it all night. You would not have slept, and I would not have slept either.” He continued, “This bowl is meant for food. If it steals my peace, it is better that I let it go even if it is made of gold.”

It wasn’t because the poor man had no value for the golden bowl; don’t get it twisted. The question was, if keeping the bowl wouldn’t guarantee me the peace that I need, why keep it? In essence, his peace was of more value to him than the golden bowl that someone wanted to steal from him.

Those who are deep, who travel deep into themselves, understand life in just the same way that the story of the poor man illustrates. They ask themselves deep questions that enlighten them and help them see life not as a zero-sum game, but as something to appreciate the value of detachment.

Those who are deep call to the deep; they are in sync with God; they are divine partners with God. And like St Augustine of Hippo, they believe and operate with this principle: Without God we cannot, but without us, God will not. The beauty is, within this deep call to deep, we discover God’s power and our purpose.

Welcome to fall and welcome to Christ Church, where we learn how to be deep so we can call to the deep.

Blessed fall,

Manny+