A Way of Seeing

“Christianity is, above all, a way of seeing.”

In our annotated edition of the Bible in the Faber house, this is how the commentary on Mark’s gospel begins. “A way of seeing.”

What does that mean?

And what on earth did the fishermen see on the day they left their old lives behind to follow Jesus?

Simon and Andrew are casting out their line, hoping for a big catch. What do they see? The sun is setting and the sea is darkening and after a day of waiting the big shoals are finally on the move. They’re banking on this one and their eyes are heavy with their family’s expectation and the need to return to shore with something.

They’ll sell the catch and bring back the money to provide shelter, wood for the fire, clothing and food for their children and wives. There’s a lot riding on this one and their livelihood is totally dependent on what the sea chooses to provide.

We turn to James and John. Their boat is beached on dry land and they’re stuck inside the hull mending their nets, but the sand is falling through the hourglass and they better get out soon before it gets dark. How sure can they even be that this time the net will hold?

We wonder who’s really been caught here? Trapped under the weight of provision and expectation, all four men are caught in a cycle of catching and repairing, catching and repairing, catching and repairing.

Take a moment to look at the faces of James and John, eyes cast down at the ground and seeing it all through the holes in their nets.

And then someone appears. It’s a man on the shoreline. Without realising they’ve done it, they’re watching him eagerly. They’ve seen him before. He’s been about town and he’s popular. He’s alone, and looking straight at them, but his lips are broken by a mischievous smile. What do they see now?

This, I believe, is what they saw:

Meaning

by Czeslaw Milosz

When I die, I will see the lining of the world.

The other side, beyond bird, mountain, sunset.

The true meaning, ready to be decoded.

What never added up will add Up,

What was incomprehensible will be comprehended.

- And if there is no lining to the world?

If a thrush on a branch is not a sign,

But just a thrush on the branch? If night and day

Make no sense following each other?

And on this earth there is nothing except this earth?

- Even if that is so, there will remain

A word wakened by lips that perish,

A tireless messenger who runs and runs

Through interstellar fields, through the revolving galaxies,

And calls out, protests, screams.