For as long as I can remember, Iโve been fascinated by the ocean. The raw power. The primal mystery. The indescribable beauty.
Itโs why I have spent nearly three decades surfing.
Few things have influenced me more, and Iโm not alone. The Catholic philosopher Peter Kreeft, also a surfer, wrote a whole book, I Surf Therefore I Am, dedicated to what surfing taught him about philosophyโand about God.
He writes that what happens with surfing is, โmost of all, you will fall hopelessly in love. From the moment of your first wave, you are doomed. Lost forever. Once you go to Heaven, you donโt come back to earth.โ
Every surfer knows this to be true in a physical way. Every Christian knows this to be true in transcendent way. It works both waysโand surfing has an incredible way of revealing that truth.
Itโs also a lot of fun.
You might not be a surfer. Thatโs ok. You donโt need to have ever ridden a wave to recognize the truth in them.
Seasons of Surfing and Seasons of Life
Every year during springtime I change. Itโs harder to focus. I carry a bit more restlessness than usual. That is because spring in Californiaโwhile beautifulโis a complete bust for surfers.
The prevailing winds turn smooth seas into churning white water. After a few weeks, itโs easy to fall into the doldrums, thinking โitโs always going to be this way.โ
Life is like that. We go through seasons where, if it werenโt for Murphyโs Law, there would be no law at all. But in time new winds blow. The waves return. The water gets warmer. Sometimes, we just need to ride out the seasons.
Christians call this hope. St. Francis de Sales, in Introduction to the Devout Life, writes, โDo not look forward to the changes and chances of this life in fear; rather look to them with full hope that as they arise, God, whose you are, will deliver you out of them.โ
Hope that after every spring, summer will come.
Hope that every dark night gives way to dawn.
And ultimately, hope that after every Cross there is a Crown.
Surfing, Surrender, and the End of Ego
Surfing is a lot like dancing. The moment you start thinking about it you are probably doing it wrong. It requires surrendering the desire to control.
You canโt make a wave โdoโ anything. All you can do is ride it. And in order to ride it you need to focus on the wave. Not on yourself. When that shift from ego to otherness occurs, the experience changes. Time stands still. Joy swells.
Researchers call this a flow state, but itโs nothing new. There is a reason so many spiritual masters preach surrender.
Fr. Jacques Philippe observes that we often lose peace because we try to control things that are not ours to control. He writes, โThe principal cause of our lack of peace is that we seek to control what does not depend on us.โ
Every surfer comes to realize they control very little. We do not control the tide, the swell, the wind, or the crowd. We certainly do not control each wave.
Each wave, like each moment God gives, asks a question: โHow will you ride me?โ
All we can do is respond.
Surfing, Joy, and Childlike Wonder
I once heard an old surfer in the line-up tell me, โYou know who the best surfer is out here? The one whoโs smiling.โ Truly, the best surfers are the happiest surfers. And the happiest surfers are the ones that appreciate each wave with childlike wonder.
Kreeft captures this perfectly: โEighty-year-old surfers say itโs just as thrilling after 70 years of surfing as it was on their first wave…watch the pure, childlike joy arise on their faces like a swell on a sea, when that great cosmic force, wearing a wave as its clothing, overtakes them and lifts them up into Heaven, into eternity, out of time, out of sight of land.โ
Our Lord said we must have faith like a child. Watch someone catch their first wave and youโll understand why.
Surfing and Humility
Just when you think you have figured it out, the ocean has a way of reminding you that you are still learning.
Some days you are on. Speeding down the line and effortlessly turning the โgreen wallโ into your personal canvas. A veritable Michelangelo of surfing. Then, the next time you go, everything is a struggle. Far from Michelangelo, you wonder if you even learned finger painting.
St. Teresa of Avila famously said, โHumility is walking in truth.โ The truth? There will always be someone better than you. There will always be better waves too.
Surfing teaches what St. Teresa meant. Humility is not thinking less of yourself. Itโs thinking of yourself truthfully. Ultimately, surfing teaches you the truth that there is more to your life than surfingโinfinitely more.
Gratitude and Gift
Peter Kreeft, describing what itโs like to catch your first wave, writes, โyou will know that you have not chosen it, it has chosen you. You have simply put yourself into the holy place where the gift was given.โ
Waves are like grace. They are complete gift. We donโt deserve either. All we can do is receive them.
When you realize that, you canโt help but be grateful for every wave. Yes, even the wipeouts.
Faith and Commitment
My favorite part of surfing is the moment of catching a wave. Surfers call this the “the drop.”
As you paddle, you are trying to match the speed of a wall of water thatโs traveled thousands of miles. The moment you connect with it you feel its energy. You never really know what lies ahead. Perhaps it is one of those waves youโll dream about for years to come, or a humbling wipeout. Either way you commit to the drop.
Many things in life require that kind of commitment. Perhaps marriage most of all. Two people become one flesh. Hand in hand, and heart in heart, they step forward into the unknown.
The energy of a wave can power a city. The energy of faithful, sacrificial love builds families, communities, and civilizations. It powers the whole world.
You never know exactly what a wave will do after it breaks.
You never know exactly where Our Lord will lead after He says, โCome, follow me.โ
At some point, you have to stop treading water.
You have to commit to the drop.
What the Ocean Really Teaches
Thereโs a story I love about St. Augustine. One day, he was walking along the shore wrestling with a major theological mystery, the Holy Trinity. As he was pondering, he noticed a young boy. The boy would run to the ocean, fill water in a jug and pour it into a small hole in the sand. Over and over.
Eventually, Augustine said, โwhat are you doing?โ
The boy replied, โIโm trying to empty the ocean into this hole.โ
To which, Augustine said, โThat hole is far too small. Itโs impossible to put the entire ocean in there!โ
Without pause, the boy answered, โJust as it is impossible for your finite mind to grasp the mystery of God.โ Then he vanished, leaving the saint in awesome wonder.
So, are there waves in Heaven? I have no idea.
But I suspect the reason surfers keep paddling back out has less to do with waves than what waves awaken in us. Wonder. Humility. Gratitude. Presence. Joy.
Perhaps every good wave is a small reminder that we were made for something greater. A faint echo of the happiness we seek and the home for which our hearts ultimately long.
And if there are waves in Heaven, I imagine they’re pretty good.
Photo by Tim Marshall on Unsplash
