GHG Studio - Compassion May Require Scuba Gear

Compassion May Require Scuba Gear

Adaptation of Jacque Callot’s engraving, Jesus and St. Peter on the Water

     Floating like duckweed in Table Rock Lake, dodging ski boats and water snakes, our main concern was to adjust the crotch-splitting straps of our hand-me-down life jackets. Those chin-chapping orange life jackets were the dreaded part of our family outings to the lake, but they served their purpose well. If Peter had his on when he sprung out of the boat, maybe he would've just bobbed around instead of sinking. But then we wouldn’t have the good story of this most impulsive character, whose faith served him well as long as he focused on God instead of his own inadequacies (see Matt. 14: 25-32)
     Carved into the porcelain life jacket is an adaptation of a 17th century engraving which shows this scene of the walking on water. Here the disciples, with sunken eyes, remain in the boat looking stunned--and no wonder. In the midst of a frightening storm, walking-talking compassion itself overcomes nature. Crazy Peter almost succeeds in joining Jesus, but down he goes.
     This story had traditionally been presented as a story of faith vs. failure. The juxtaposition of the story with the sculpture's title caused me to rethink the traditional interpretation. What does this story have to do with compassion, other than Jesus rescued Peter?
     Jesus--compassion personified--is on the surface, yet the title of the piece places true compassion down in the deeps. Jesus didn’t need to go into the depths because he is the depths. Peter needed to sink. Perhaps it wasn’t so much a failure of faith, for often it is in our failures that we meet God.
     Is there a baptismal element here? Jesus pulls Peter back to the surface and puts him back in the boat. That is where compassion was needed at that very moment, with the other disciples. The initiation into true compassion does require removing one’s artificial floating device. It demands that we get off the surface, take a risk, and go deeper. Breathing assistance is essential. Compassion, "with passion", is found in the depths where failures and fears reside. When those depths are lovingly plumbed, plenitude is accessed, life overflows, and water becomes walkable.

"...in turbulent times…sink down three fathoms below the storm, where the stillness is; here where all things are accomplished, the quiet where all things are done. When you come to the surface you will bring some of this calm, this undisturbed peace with you; and the more you do this under stress, the more involuntary it will become so that eventually your mind will first seek the divine instead of human wisdom."

(anonymous teacher, early 20th century)

A note on technique: The adaptation of the Callot engraving was made by a technique called sgraffito. Sgraffito involves scratching through one thin layer of colored clay into another. For this image, a layer of black porcelain slip was painted over the wet white clay of the lifejacket. Before it dried, a sharp tool was used to cut lines through the black, revealing the white below.

Chlora's Lifejacket
Copyright 2005 Ginger Henry Geyer
(appropriation of Compassion May Require Scuba Gear)

Chlora gingerly inched into the lake.
It was cold and the mud squished up between her toes.
As she progressed, it gushed up muddy clouds
and slimed around her ankles.
Visibility was limited, so she must be extra cautious.
This could be quicksand.
Or it could be a quagmire with no end in sight.

Even so it was better than jumping off the boatdock
with a lifejacket on. Every kid tries that only once.
Which was worse, the pain or the embarrassment,
when one's crotch had been extended up to the belly button
by those nasty lifejacket straps? Even the best cannon ball
could not offset the damage of being cut in two.

So Chlora took the gradual approach, and tucked
up her knees, fending off the snarly duckweed.
She felt a slight tug and let the lifejacket carry her
over the deeps. Jesus might walk on water,
but Chlora preferred to float. She was a good swimmer,
but swimming in such a contraption made her feel like Alice the Goon.
She stretched back fully on the water,
as if she was the shadow of a cloud up above.
This was a far cry from surfing or scuba diving,
which she had seen on the Wide World of Sports,
but the wakes from ski boats were almost as good as
the waves off of Hawaii.
After awhile her chin got chapped and her neck got sore from all the
self-preservation. Staying on the surface has its own problems.

She dog paddled back to the dock. The recollection of
water snakes sent her scrambling up the slippery ladder.
Shivering, she unbuckled the clasps,
got tangled up in the straps, and finally
tossed the soggy old thing aside. Her fingers looked
like raisins and her lips were rather blue. Her Mom
fretted over her and wrapped her up in a big towel
with a hug inside.

Chlora liked that part best.
The fluffy towel was warmed by the sun
and she wore it like a queen's robe.
She excused herself and walked along the shore, dragging
her royal train in the scum. It flipped up some stones
and she began looking for perfect flat rocks to skip across the water.
She knew from experience that thick rocks do not skip.
Even with a good spin, they sink with a plunk.
She found a beautiful smooth stone and with a flick
of the wrist, sent it hopping away from the swimmers,
skimming the smooth water all the way out to the ski boat.
It skipped seven times, creating a new world's record
for this spot in time.

Soon it was high noon and sweat dribbled down
her front and back. Chlora shed her towel and went back to
the boatdock. She would take a cooling dip before lunch.
Her lifejacket still lay there, steaming in the sun.
Its shiny clasps were as hot as fire.
Everybody was bustling over the food and drinks,
so she quietly walked to the end of the pier.
She climbed up to the upper deck of the dock.
The water below looked dark and deep.
It was an invitation to hang ten.
She curled her toes around the edge of the railing,
gripping it for courage. Maybe Peter had sunk like a rock
because he needed to. He needed some depth.
Jesus didn't sink because already was the depths.
With her eyes wide open, Chlora held her nose and jumped.