Snorkeling in the Caribbean, I see a world hidden from sight
“The angels went away from them into heaven,” Luke 2:15
I hang motionless on the water’s surface, hearing only the sound of my steady breathing, in… out, in… out. Fifteen feet below, eagle rays ripple over the sandy ocean floor like birds in flight. Their black skin is patterned with perfect white dots, a floating print of modernism, and their long tails are stiff as rapiers. Their heads look like dolphins. “Or like a platypus,” my son says.
Snorkeling over the reef, I marvel at the beauty under me. What mind could create such wonders?
Long antennae protrude from a dark cavity in a mound of coral. I hold my breath and dive down to get a closer look. A spiny lobster comes out with sensors waving, ready to defend. I go no closer, lingering a moment before swimming back to the surface. Later, floating over an underwater meadow, I spot a sea turtle grazing at the edge. A small fish hovers close to its shell. Kicking my fins, I return to the reef, catching my breath when a nurse shark comes into view. It swims under me, stopping near a coral wall. My pounding heart slows when another swimmer says they’re harmless. The shark looks to be my size.
The watery landscapes are impossibly beautiful: large purple fans, massive domes of yellow brain coral, sea rods the size of shrubs, blue crust coral, and orange tubes with yellow fish disappearing over rims into hollow darkness. Like women relaxing in a cocktail lounge, sky blue angelfish and rainbow-hued parrotfish drift at leisure, not minding the stares. Schools of yellowtail snapper move in concert like a flock of starlings, suddenly shifting direction. In deeper water, I spot a queen conch, dull and nearly invisible in white sand. The sunset-pink luster of its aperture is hidden from sight.
In the waters of this Caribbean island, I worship. “Let heaven and earth praise him, the seas and everything that moves in them” (Psalm 69:34). I am moving over the sea, praising him, astonished again and again. Day after day I return to see more.
For thousands of years, most people have either not known about the underwater world or seen only a blur from the seat of a boat or the railing of a ship. Without special equipment, it can’t be seen clearly. Divers searching for marketable goods, such as pearls or sponges, had the best understanding of what it looked like, but without a mask they were limited. Legend has it that Alexander the Great saw this magical place from a glass diving bell. If so, did others believe what he reported? Hills and valleys, grasses and plants, water currents instead of wind currents, and creatures that soared, crawled, darted, snaked, and skittered. Like earth, but not. A world parallel to our own.
There is another unseen world parallel to our own, which most often looks like a blur. Paul described our vision of that spiritual place as unclear, as if looking “through a glass, darkly.” The Bible includes reports from those who’ve glimpsed it or met visitors from it. Paul, for example, wrote of being “caught up into paradise” and hearing things “that cannot be told, which man may not utter” (2 Corinthians 12:3-4). John was shown heaven and the eternal city. Some things he could write about, but others he could not. When the seven thunders spoke, he was told, ”do not write it down” (Revelation 10:4).
Angels have appeared alone (to Mary), in groups (to Abraham), and en masse (to the shepherds at Christ’s birth). Elisha saw an army of angels on the hills around his city. His servant saw Syrians with horses and chariots. He panicked. Elisha told him to calm down: “Do not be afraid, for those who are with us are more than those who are with them.” He prayed the young man would see. “So the Lord opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw, and behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire…” (2 Kings 6:17). Think of it. Chariots of fire.
Such accounts bear witness of another dimension. While we are focused on the next deadline, weekend, or event, all around us a spiritual world pulsates with activity.
Off an island of Turks and Caicos, I put a mask over my eyes and swam out from shore. The sealed glass formed an oxygen barrier that enabled me to see astonishing things with crystal clarity. The mask only worked in the water. Had I stood on a boat, I’d have seen dark blotches amidst waves, as you can see in the photograph at the beginning.
I’ve often wondered what our Lord meant when he said, “The Son does only what he sees his Father doing” (John 5:19 ICB). How did he see what God was doing? Did he see with the eyes of his heart?
The only way I know to see what God is doing is to put on the lenses of scripture and wade into prayer. Moving away from the shore–those deadlines, upcoming weekends, and events–I fix my eyes on the depths and wait. “Let your work be visible” (Psalm 90:16 LEB).
Through a glass clearly.