How would you define Charity? Before this study, I would have quickly tossed out “the pure love of Christ” or even just “love” or maybe “service.” The more deeply I study the scriptures, the more I see how English is a limited language and that the work of translation is complicated. The word Christ uses in the Greek of the gospels (and that Paul uses in his famous verses in Corinthians about charity) is agape which is more than just love. It is perfect, whole, Godlike love.
Several years ago, Michael and I went through the (honestly terrifying) process of getting scuba certified so we could join our scuba-obsessed Bishop and a number of couples in our ward on an incredible diving trip to Cozumel, Mexico. When the certification process – which included practice dives in the murky pea soup that is the water of Lake Pleasant – turned out to be not even a little bit fun and incredibly inconvenient, I had to put a lot of trust in our Bishop’s promise that it would all be more than worth it once we got to the beautiful blue waters of Cozumel.
In the end, the trip and the scuba diving both turned out to be absolutely as amazing as promised. It was an incredibly spiritual experience, actually. And a few months later that experience became the backdrop of a dream that gave me new language for the concept of Charity.
In my dream, every single person I have ever known was on the beach in Cozumel. We were in scuba gear on the sand, which, if you’ve ever been scuba diving, you know how incredibly heavy and awkward the gear is when you are out of the water. The vibe on the beach was stressful. Everyone seemed uncomfortable and frustrated as the sun beat down on us. We couldn’t really hear over the sound of the crashing waves, and it was so hard to see clearly through our fogged-up scuba masks. I remember not feeling ready to get in the water, but also so uncomfortable just standing in all that gear on the beach. I either needed to get in or get out. Our Bishop and a few other experienced divers were yelling to us all: “Just follow us! Get into the water! It will get easier, we promise!!”
One of the first rules of scuba diving (and apparently even in dream scuba diving) is to always be with a partner. Michael and I stayed close together as the waves crashed into us. We could see friends and family members being tossed back onto the shore. Some of them eventually gave up and walked back up to the sand. Others kept pushing forward despite getting absolutely pummeled by the waves.
Michael and I swam past the break together. It was not always pretty, but we were making progress toward deeper water. I could see other friends slowing down. They looked tired and scared, and some were deciding to just snorkel in the shallows with all their scuba gear on. I desperately wanted them to keep going too as Michael and I committed to pushing forward.
Together we finally made it to water deep enough and calm enough that we could do what we came there to do. My heart raced as my mind screamed, “There is no going back after this.” Would I be up for the task? Would we get lost? What would we see down there? Was this actually worth it?
We signaled to each other that we were ready to descend, and down we went.
Scuba diving is a strange thing in that it is very lonely. You are with a partner, but the best you can do to communicate is point and make some garbled mumbling sounds. You are truly alone with just the sound of your breathing, the echoes of the deep, and your own thoughts. It is terrifying and exhilarating and oddly peaceful.
Just like on our real life trip to Cozumel, in my dream, we dove to the world-famous Santa Rosa Wall – a huge ledge of incredible, colorful coral reef that starts about 50 feet below the surface and descends into the infinite deep. I could have spent a lifetime here. There were sea caves, eagle rays, lobsters, every kind of fish, sea turtles, enormous fans of coral and teeny tiny little buds that somehow also contained entire worlds when you got close enough to observe them. Oh! What a world we are surrounded by! And what a God that created it all, just for us.
It was there, exploring the wonders of the wall – in real life and in my dream – that I felt something from behind me quietly call. I turned away from the colorful wall to face what can only be described as The Great Deep. Beyond the wall is a 3,000 foot drop into the deepest, widest, bluest open ocean imaginable. It was as if I was looking into Deep Space itself. The enormity of it all was terrifying, yet it pulled me like a force of gravity.
It reverberated. It sang. It held. It engulfed.
The Love of God - a painting I made for Michael's birthday this year.
I was brought to tears by the wonder of it all. Then, in the quiet of my scuba suit, I heard a soft, big voice whisper:
“This is the love of God.”
What happened immediately after continues to move me. I saw and felt the love of God. I saw the water for what it really was, and what I wanted most in that moment was to swim back to shore and to tell others what I saw and to help them get there themselves. I wouldn’t describe my natural man as particularly selfless, so this urge still surprises me. No one had to tell me to do it. I didn’t have to drum up the energy to do it. But somehow all I wanted to do was to go back and tell everyone–those who were still heavy-laden with their gear on the beach, those snorkeling in the shallows and even those mesmerized by the worlds of the wall – to shout to them all, to roar like Aslan the lion – “FURTHER UP AND FURTHER IN!!” It only gets better the deeper you go! Let Him show you His perfect love, which is everywhere, which enables everything, which holds it all.
Is this His Charity and how it possesses me? We love others, because we love God, because He first loved us.
When I think of how Christ showed us Charity – the perfect love of God – in His mortal life, I don’t first think of the work of the Garden or of the Cross. To be honest, those moments feel a lot like looking into The Great Deep. I just can’t wrap my mind around what happened there. It is too immense.
But God’s love is both immense and singular. The last chapter of the Gospel of John stays with me always and I think is an important final note about who Christ really is. Jesus has already done his Great Work and has commissioned his disciples to go and teach His gospel to the whole world. Then and now, Jesus doesn’t want anyone getting pummeled by the waves or snorkeling in the seaweed.
Peter, my friend and my brother, who was so human, so prone to wander, and also so eager to be good, was apparently confused by Christ’s earlier instructions and had gone back home to fish with his friends. They didn’t catch anything all that night. I can imagine what Peter, who had been a professional fisherman his whole life, was thinking: “Apparently I’m bad at even fishing now.”
His heart must have been heavy from everything that had happened in the days prior. Even though he had promised to give up his own life in defending Christ, Peter stood around a charcoal fire, warming his hands and hiding his face during the Savior’s trial before the high priest. Significantly, all four of the Gospels record that Peter denied knowing Jesus three times that night, when he had just been called by the Lord to be a rock, to be the leader. It seems Peter would have felt that he had failed then, and now, here too, he was failing again. I wonder if Peter and the other disciples welcomed the chance to fish at night, so they wouldn't be seen by the people they had so recently taught the Gospel to.
As dawn started to crawl over the Sea of Galilee and Peter and the other disciples were ready to call it quits, they heard a voice from the shore: “Children, have ye any meat? Cast the net on the right side of the ship, and ye shall find.” They cast their net on the right side, and it was instantly filled with more fish than they could pull up. John saw the miracle for what it was instantly and said to Peter, “It is the Lord.” Peter, with his big, beautiful heart flings himself out of the boat, racing again to be the first to get to the risen Lord.
I am moved when I think of the tenderness of Christ making them breakfast. And I am undone when I think of Peter, sopping wet, running up the shore toward the Lord and then smelling the smoke from the fire. Because, as John records, it was a charcoal fire. Would that smell have transported him back to just a few days before, when he had denied Christ beside another charcoal fire? (These are the only two instances in the entire Bible where the Greek word for charcoal fire – anthrakia –is used.) Would Peter have been filled with equal parts joy at seeing the Master and shame for being caught fishing again, when he had been called to leave his nets and to be a fisher of men? Was his heart pounding as they sat by the fire together, eating a morning meal of grilled fish and warm, fresh bread? As the smoke from the same type of fire once again filled his eyes, Christ allowed Peter to make restitution for his earlier denials through an act of transcendent charity – His pure, perfect love.
Peter, do you love me?
Yes, Lord, you know I love you.
Then feed my sheep, Peter.
Three denials before. Three questions now. Three declarations of love now. And three requests to “Feed my sheep.” This exchange might seem simple, but can you feel the relief for Peter? Christ is showing true, full, perfect love in this exchange. His agape in Greek, or His Charity. Christ’s charity restores Peter and then calls him forward again. His agape says Peter, I taught you to love people the way I love people. Now, go and do it. I will be with you when you do. Because the Good Shepherd will always make up the difference. His great, big, deep, deep, endless love is enough for us all.
In His perfect charity for both Peter and His flock, Christ called Peter to leave his nets (again) and to tend to his sheep. And He calls you and me to do the same – to go back for the people still struggling on the beach, the people being pummeled by the waves, the people who have decided the shallows are deep enough. We will do it because we love Him, because He first loved us. (1 John 4:19)
We will wobble in all our heavy gear as we stand as a witness of His love. Our voices will shake as we shout with joy:
“FURTHER UP AND FURTHER IN!!”
It gets better the deeper you go.
