Setting Goldie free

I’m always amazed at how common life experiences translate into metaphors of meaning.

When my daughter and son-in-law moved from one apartment to another, they were forced to leave their beloved goldfish behind.

They’ll probably read this account so I’ll try to be as accurate as I can remember. That’s code that means I’m making up most of it.

Goldie was a beloved fish who would follow them from corner to corner within his little aquarium and never needed walking or rabies shots. He was the perfect pet.

But poor Goldie couldn’t live in their new apartment.

After great discussion, they decided the kindest thing for Goldie would be to give him his freedom. So my son-in-law, as compassionate a guy as you’ll ever meet, drove Goldie and his fish bowl to the edge of the river.

Kneeling at the edge of the water, he met Goldie’s eyes. “You’ve been a great goldfish. Go and have a good life.”

And he gently poured Goldie into the river water.

The little fish took three brave swishes of his tail into his new freedom when a big fish came out of the murk and swallowed him whole.

The number of metaphors in that story are staggering.

Do we learn that little fish have no chance at the good life?

Do we learn that big fish can be counted on to spoil the day?

Or that well-intentioned plans for good don’t always work out?

Those are pretty deep for me. What I learned was when you set your goldfish free, don’t watch afterwards.

The Bible: an overarching motif

We talked about the use of a motif a few weeks ago, looking at the motif of the barren woman.

Today we’ll look at a bigger motif that affected not only imagery in the Old Testament but in the New Testament as well. And this motif is commonly used in Christian terminology today.

The exodus of the people of Israel, as described in the book of Exodus through Deuteronomy, involved a people in slavery to the Egyptian empire. God sent Moses to rescue the people and, after a series of miracles, the Egyptian pharaoh allowed the Israelites to go free.

Included in the story was the passover, the final event that finally secured the people’s freedom. In that story, God sent the angel of death to kill the first-born of each household. However, the Israelites were instructed to select a lamb and sacrifice it, painting the doorposts with the lamb’s blood so that the angel of death would pass over those houses.

That Exodus motif affected many Old Testament narratives, including the Exile when the Israelites were taken from their land to another empire and placed in bondage there. Would those people in exile – in bondage – experience another rescue to be brought out of slavery and back to their promised land?

The gospel narratives of Jesus’ life also reference the Exodus motif. For example, Jesus died at the time the lamb was slain in the Passover observation. Passover, of course, reminded the people of the original passover during the Exodus from Egypt.

In Jesus’ day, the empire was Rome and the people were in bondage again. The same questions as came during Exodus and Exile times would have been asked: would God send someone to rescue them from bondage and restore them to their promised land?

The Exodus motif features people in bondage to a great empire who are then rescued and restored to what God had planned for them. It’s a motif referred to many times throughout the Bible, a powerful overarching theme that offers hope to those in bondage.

Wise and not so

My younger brother was a high school wrestler, which made for an interesting lesson in the folly of letting siblings mature.

His first practice of the season came shortly before my visit home from college. We hadn’t seen each other in a little while and he wanted to get me caught up on things. I could tell he was jazzed about wrestling. And I wanted to re-connect, too.

“Here’s a new move I learned,” he said.  We were standing in the middle of the living room with a new carpet on the floor, a good thing as it turned out. “Watch.”

Watch wasn’t really the right term. Stand still and do nothing was a better term because he put one hand behind my neck, one behind my knee, and, whoosh, had me flat on my back.

“Pinned! Just like that. And it’s really easy,” he said. He had enough maturity, at least, to help me get back on my feet without first pressing his knee into my clavicle.

I wasn’t a wimp in the athletic department. I played basketball, softball, tennis, and flag football. I rode horses and faced thundering cattle. I was no fragile piece of china. But I hadn’t ever learned a wrestling move.

There are times when a polite retreat is wise. But I was a college student. Wisdom was like a tree in the mist. Sometimes I saw it, sometimes I didn’t.

I did want to be an attentive sister so I hung in there. “It worked pretty well.” I rubbed my shoulder where I had landed.

He grinned and I wondered when my tow-headed little brother had turned into this six-foot tower of muscle. “I’ll show you how easy.”

“Um, OK.” Remember the part about wise? Not so here.

He shook out his shoulders. “Easy to do. First you grab my neck.”

Yeah, OK, I got that. I had done that a few other times in his young life. Well, maybe not the back side of his neck, though. I tried to do it his way this time. We had matured, of course.

“Then you grab my knee,” he said.

I leaned down to replicate his move. Suddenly the walls of the room swirled around me and, with a thump, I was on my back again.

He grinned, dusting his hands off. “That is how you counteract it!

The Bible: The End of the Story

A well-written fiction piece will have an ending that hopefully deals with all the threads of the plot and subplot. A well-written nonfiction piece contains a conclusion that summarizes the points of the article or book.

Stories in the Bible also use the ending as a powerful tool to give the reader an interpretation of the preceding action.

For example, in Genesis, we meet Abraham and Lot, Abraham’s nephew. After their servants argue over where to pasture the sheep, the two men decide to part ways. Abraham allows Lot to choose first and his choice captures the lushest pastures.

But this crossroads begs for a sequel and we get one a few chapters later when Lot and his family are found living in Sodom. Abraham’s life, meanwhile, has blossomed into many spiritual and domestic blessings.

We also learn from the story of Abraham and Sarah,  who, after being promised a son, decide to take things into their own hands. Sarah presents her servant Hagar to Abraham as her substitute. When Hagar bears a son by Abraham, the resulting tension creates havoc for Abraham – and throughout Jewish history.

The end of the story reveals much about the character of those involved in the story.

Another example can be found in the book of Ruth, where Ruth risks herself by choosing a new nation and a new God. The ending of the story, where she marries Boaz and bears a son, shows the reward that was hers for her wise decision.

The end of the story shows Lot’s greedy decision led him on a path to an evil life. Equally, the end of the story reveals Sarah’s lack of faith in God’s promises and how her decision cascaded into problems.

And Ruth’s gracious love for her mother-in-law is endorsed by her happy ending.

The end of the story in the Bible helps the reader evaluate the characters and events of story.

It wasn’t the fish

You know how there are some statements that parents should never make? Like, I will never give my child cookies for breakfast. Or, I will always listen to my child. Or, I don’t like to go fishing.

When my kids were invited to a special group outing that included fishing poles and bait, guess who had to drive? 

I thought I could set up a chair at the pond’s edge, get out a book, and enjoy the late summer afternoon while all the children flung hook and bobber into the murky depths. Somebody else was the fishing expert.

Yeah, I volunteered to be a driver.

I had gotten settled in and read a couple of chapters when I heard my daughter shout. She stood on the dock, pole held high in the air, fish squirming at the end of the line.

Great.

She wanted me to bring the tackle box. I jammed the bookmark in place and marched through the thick grass to the dock.

“Look at my fish! We gotta get the hook out before it gets hurt.”

Sure. I set the tackle box on the rough wood the dock, flipped open the top, and gazed into the tangle of hooks, bobbers, weights. How did one get the hook out?

She sensed my confusion. Or just got impatient. I’m never sure which. “Grab those pliers, Mom.”

OK, I knew pliers. I lifted the metal tool and held it out to her.

“I can’t do that,” she said with a voice that sounded something like a jet engine starting up.

Like I could? “I don’t fish,” I said. Clearly a boundary was in order here.

“I’ll hold the fish and you get the hook out,” she said, gripping the squirmy fish in her nine-year-old hands.

Um, I don’t get hooks out. I stared at the fish, which stared back. This was no time for a “who blinks first” contest.

I drew a deep breath. Parenting involves courage more than you’d think. Extricating a hook from a fish’s mouth ranks pretty high on my “don’t want to do this” list but it had to be done. I stepped closer.

She squeezed the fish’s mouth open and I raised the pliers, trying to find the right grip. Stalling.

And I got hit in the face with a blast of pond water.

I wanted to blame the fish but I looked up then to see my young son standing a few feet away from me, holding a stained and wrinkled paper cup. An empty paper cup.

He stared at the fish while I stared at him.

Then he saw me staring and he shifted his weight. “I grabbed the cup from by the pond,” he said. “And I scooped up some water.”

Why?

“I didn’t want the fish to die before you got the hook out and I thought it might take a while,” he said with little-boy eyes cushioned in fat cheeks.

“So you scooped up the water and threw it in my face?”

He shrugged and tossed the cup down. “I missed him.”

There are some things a parent shouldn’t say. But one I still cling to is this: I don’t like to go fishing.