Communion Meditation
John 3:14-15: And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up: That whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life.
For this morning’s Communion Meditation, I’m going to tell a bit of a long story with a singular point at the end. Louis Agassiz was the son of a Swiss provincial pastor born in the early 19th century. He became a great naturalist who studied glaciers, came to America to lecture and ended up taking a position at Harvard. He was an exuberant an unusual man…he broke most of the Harvard rules. He loved nature and instead of an entrance exam, when students wanted to study underneath him, they would encounter what became known as “the incident of the fish”. (The following is taken from David Mcullough’s Brave Companions)
After the initial interview, Agassiz would ask when the student wanted to begin. If the student answered “now”, he would be presented with a dead fish. Usually it came from one of the jars that lined Agassiz’ shelf and had long since been dead and pickled. The fish was placed in a tin pan and the student was told to look at the fish, and then Agassiz would leave. Sometimes he came back later that day, and sometimes he didn’t. The following is reported by Samuel Scuddler:
“In ten minutes I had seen all that could be seen in that fish….Half and hour passed – an hour -another hour; the fish began to look loathsome. I turned it over and around; looked it in the face – ghastly; from behind, beneath, above, sideways, at three-quarters view – just as ghastly. I was in despair.
I might not use a magnifying glass; instruments of all kinds were interdicted. My two hands, my two eyes, and the fish: it seemed a most limited field. I pushed my finger down its throat to feel how sharp the teeth were. I began to count the scales in the different rows, until I was convinced that that was nonsense. At last a happy though struck me – I would draw the fish, and now with surprise I began to discover new features in the creature.”
When Agassiz returned later to hear what Scudder had learned, his only comment was that the young man must look again.
“I was piqued; I was mortified. Still more of that wretched fish! But now I set myself to my task with a will, and discovered one new thing after another….The afternoon passed quickly; and when, toward its close, the professor inquired: “Do you see it yet?” “No,” I replied, “I am certain I do not, but I see how little I saw before.”
To cut the story short, young Samuel spent three days looking at the fish! For some students the time was shorter, and for some it was longer, until the professor was content to know that the student was ready to look.
As I read this account, I could not help but think how little we look to Christ. How short is our attention span. How quickly we set down our Bibles and set aside our thoughts. Can you imagine spending three days thinking only of Christ? My suspicion is that, like most of Agassiz’s students, most Christians have never really looked. Perhaps the best we can say is, “I am certain I do not see, but I see how little I saw before!”
Don’t tire of communion. Don’t tire of singing His praise. Don’t tire of reading His Words. Turn them over in your mind. Gaze, inspect, and meditate upon them until, like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, you see! Look at the Lamb until you see.
Nathan Writes 