My Fish Story

Walking through the parking lot of a church I was visiting, I saw a gleaming BMW with the Christian fish symbol on its trunk. Having spent years studying Greek, I knew the symbol well. The Greek word "ichthus" or "fish" in English - was a broad sheet of Jesus' pedigree for early Christians with each letter of the word "fish" in Greek being the first letter of a name or title. The "i" stands for Ieseus ("Jesus"), "ch" for christos ("Christ" or "Anointed One"), "th" for theos ("God"), "u" for uios ("Son"), and "s" for soter ("Savior"). However, instead of marveling how early believers could surreptitiously co-opt a Greco-Roman symbol and use it cryptically in a pagan society, I was perplexed. Inside the fish symbol was something I had not seen before: the red, white and blue of the flag of the United States of America. This fish was an American fish.

Perhaps I could pass it off as part of the "fish wars," that is, the plethora of ideological bumper stickers ranging from Techno-fish (one with rocket fins with the capitalized word "SCIENCE" inside), to Vege-fish (a fish with the word "VEGAN" inside), to Darwin-fish (one with legs or with legs and the word "DARWIN" inside), to Jesus-fish (with a cross or the word "JESUS" inside) - all vying for ascendance. Positively, the symbol I saw connoted the fish as swallowing the flag and so turning secular into Christian culture - perhaps reminiscent of Puritan mythology and something that would please the "Take Back America" crowd. I feared the opposite - that Western, "American" culture is the water the fish lives and breathes in. The Christian fish I saw is primarily one that has and wants it all.

If so, it might explain why so much of what passes from coast to coast as Christian discipleship is, to quote the cliché, 3,000 miles wide and 1 inch deep. Living for the most part in insular (read that as "gated"), middle class communities, many believers approach the gospels peering through the lens of our consumptive culture. All sorts of compromises follow, from Madison Avenue sermons styled on McLuhan's "hot" communication, to CEO status pastors, to a post-modern Jesus ("It's all about Me and Jesus and it's Awesome" etc. etc.), and of course, to a prosperity gospel rooted in Abraham in a way that would stir the envy of any 80s yuppie - remember the "Whoever Dies with the Most Toys Wins" tee shirts.

I well remember soberly telling myself when I returned to California from living in Southern Africa that I would be frugal with my resources in the vein of Wesley's dictum: "save much, spend little, give away much." After all, a McDees meal for a family of four would be a month's wages among Africans I knew. I believe I lasted about six weeks before reluctantly giving in to the incessant demands of my own weak will and greasing with my family under the Golden Arches.

Four years later, my ironed-out conscience offers not a whimper when my lips address the microphone at the convenient drive-through - "a "Number 3 please." And so I push my 6.5 Briggs and Stratton mower thinking of Swaziland men cutting grass with curved machetes. I slide into a breakfast booth at the Brunch House thinking of the African women at 6:00 a.m. easily balancing water jars on their heads threading their way home for breakfast. Now, like the prophet in the Book of Jonah, I struggle from inside the fish, the big American fish. How can I follow Jesus and resist the temptation to have more and more in the land of the red, white and blue?

Do my children really need cell phones at school? How many pairs of shoes do I need? Is a 36 inch HDTV big enough? Somehow, above the roar of all the wants and needs, I imagine Jesus shouting: "Impress people with your life - not with your possessions."

I also remember that the fish in the Book of Jonah chundered Jonah up (a good New Zealand word meaning "vomit," Jonah 2:10), and Jonah did do the right thing in the end in spite of his inner contradictions - so maybe I have hope. The test will be whether I can drive my 97 Ford Contour down Cohasset past the auto store with the shining BMWs - without straying eyes.