A River Runs Through It

A River Runs Through It--what is it about the movie that captures our attention and imagination? The artistry of fly fishing? The beauty of Montana? The aspirations and recollections of youth? The love story? The tragic life? Or the mystery of a river that runs through it?

I love rivers. I also love fly-fishing, even though I am not particularly good at it. But the book and the movie are about more than just fly-fishing.

Sixteen years before the movie had been produced, I had read a quote in a fishing magazine, not even realizing at the time that it was from the book A River Runs Through It. It was a fly-fishing columnist picking up on the humorous impression that a particular fly-fishing, Presbyterian minister had left upon his sons.

Listen to the author Norman Maclean:

"In our family, there was no clear line between religion and fly fishing. We lived at the junction of great trout rivers in western Montana, and our father was a Presbyterian minister and a fly fisherman who tied his own flies and taught others. He told us about Christ's disciples being fishermen, and we were left to assume, as my brother and I did, that all first-class fishermen were fly fishermen and that John, the favorite, was a dry-fly fisherman."

The quote in the magazine ended there; but the book, I would discover years later, goes further.

"It is true that one day a week was given over wholly to religion. On Sunday mornings my brother, Paul, and I went to Sunday school and then to "morning services" to hear our father preach and then in the evening to Christian Endeavor and afterwards to "evening services" to hear our father preach again. In between on Sunday afternoons we had to study The Westminster Shorter Catechism for an hour and then recite before we could walk the hills with him while he unwound between services. But he never asked us more than the first question in the catechism, "What is the chief end of man?" And we answered together so one of us could carry on if the other forgot, "Man's chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy Him forever." This always seemed to satisfy him, as indeed such a beautiful answer should have, and besides he was anxious to be on the hills where he could restore his soul and be filled again to overflowing for the evening sermon. His chief way of recharging himself was to recite to us from the sermon that was coming, enriched here and there with selections from the most successful passages of his morning sermon.

“Even so, in a typical week of our childhood Paul and I probably received as many hours of instruction in fly fishing as we did in all other spiritual matters."

But wait! Is fly fishing a spiritual matter? Is that just a clever turn of phrase? Or does it mean we give ourselves to things of this world with religion-like fervor? Or is fly fishing or writing a book or producing a film a spiritual matter? Is going to school or the office or the factory or raising the children a spiritual matter? What is not a spiritual matter? Or to put it another way, is there one cubic inch in the universe that does not belong to God? Does not even a river tell us something about the God who made it? Hear Maclean also in his concluding lines:

"Of course, now I am too old to be much of a fisherman, and now I course I usually fish the big waters alone, although some friends think I shouldn't. Like many fly fishermen in western Montana where the summer days are almost Arctic in length, I often do not start fishing until the cool of the evening. Then in the Arctic half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise.

"Eventually, all thing merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.

"I am haunted by waters."

Beautiful! The longing for the transcendent. Did you know there is a river that runs through the Scriptures that appears in the beginning, flows through the pages of history, and reaches out to eternity? Here are three texts to consider, one from the beginning, one from the middle, and one from the end of the Bible:

Genesis 2:10 "Now a river flowed out of Eden to water the garden; and from there it divided and became four rivers."

Psalm 46:4
"There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,The holy dwelling places of the Most High."

Revelation 22:1-2 "Then he showed me a river of the water of life, clear as crystal, coming from the throne of God and of the Lamb, in the middle of its street (On either side of the river was the tree of life, bearing twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit every month; and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.

In the beginning God provided refreshment to the Garden He had made. His word speaks of the life and blessing He offers as refreshment to His people. It is no accident that the revelation of God in the flesh, the Lord Jesus Christ, speaks of Himself as the "living water." It is He who gives life and refreshment in a dry and thirsty land. It is He who waters the garden; it is He who makes glad the city of God; it is who He brings healing to the nations. The river precedes time, He appears in history; He goes somewhere; He has an end, a destination. So do we have an end, a destination, in Him--"to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever."

A Fisherman's Take on Original Sin and Total Depravity

We ask a simple question
And that is all we wish:
Are fishermen all liars?
Or do only liars fish?

~by William Sherwood Fox, Silken Lines and Silver Hooks, 1954



Overheard:

Two men in a boat:

One said to the other, "All fishermen are liars, except you and me; and sometimes I am not so sure about you."

What About the Altar?

Part of the enjoyment of trout fishing for me is creating a few flies each winter at the tying vise in preparation for the upcoming season. Thus, I am happy to report the first catches of the 2009 PA trout season. In a few hours last week on Big Sewickley Creek, the Lord was pleased to bring to net a brown trout and two rainbows that were attracted to a March Brown wet fly (bottom photo) and a Bead-Head Prince Nymph (top photo), respectively. Yes, the sovereignty of God applies both to fishing and man-fishing. The fly is cast into the brook, but its every decision is from the LORD (That is a paraphrase of Proverbs 16:33, by the way.)

On another matter, ______ asked the following:

"I belong to a conservative Presbyterian Church. Although we don't practice "altar calls," which I understand the reasoning behind, I often still hear the front of the church referred to as "the altar." What is the origin of this terminology in the church? Is the origin fairly recent? How does referring to "an altar" in our churches today relate to Scripture? Does this type of terminology really have any Scriptural warrant, or method, especially in view of Christ's death and resurrection?"

My answer follows:

Your question is a discerning one. Typically, the term "altar" is understood to refer to a raised structure on which sacrifices are offered or incense is burned in religious worship.
The word "altar" first appears in Holy Scripture in Genesis 8:20 which says, "Then Noah built an altar tothe LORD, and took of every clean animal and of every clean bird and offered burnt offerings on the altar" (NASB). In Genesis 12:7 Abram built an altar unto the LORD at Shechem and called upon the name of the LORD; we note that there is no mention of a sacrifice there. But in Genesis 22:7, Abram built an altar in Moriah on which he intended to offer his son Isaac. In Exodus 17:15 before receiving the Law at Mt. Sinai, Moses "built an altar, and named it The LORD is My Banner"; again there is no specific mention of a sacrifice.

The Law given at Mount Sinai included provisions for Moses to build altars unto the LORD (See Exodus 27:1-8 and 30:1-10.). These particularly had reference to the offering up of burnt sacrifices of animals and grains, on the one, and incense, on the other. Those types and shadows of the Old Testament had their fulfillment in Christ, "the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world" (John 1:29).

In that Christ, by His once for all sacrifice on the cross, brought to an end the ceremonial sacrificial system of the Old Testament, we might have expected that the altar would have disappeared from the Christian places of worship. The churches, however, throughout the centuries after Christ retained the use of ornate wood and stone "altars" which served as communion tables. Over time, however, Roman Catholicism corrupted the Lord's Supper in their conception of the mass. They understood the mass to be a renewed sacrifice of Christ through the breaking of His body and the pouring out of His blood, in accordance with their doctrine known as transubstantiation (that is, the elements are believed to undergo a change of substance from common bread and wine to the actual body and blood of Christ). Thus, the "altar" in Romanism's understanding returned to a being a place of sacrifice. This the Protestant Reformation of the 16th century found to be abhorrent and an insult to the finality and completeness of Jesus' death. With that, the Reformation churches in Switzerland, Holland, and Scotland determined to remove the ornate "altars" from the places of worship and introduce plain, even removable, communion tables.

Typically, then, Presbyterians do not refer to the communion table or even the raised platform where the preacher stands as the "altar." Again, this is to emphasize the end of the O.T. sacrificial system and the "priesthood of all believers" in the New Testament church. Worship is offered up by the whole congregation who have been brought near to God through the death of Christ. The church members "are being built up as a spiritual house for a holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ" (I Peter 2:5). Thus, the writer of Hebrews says, "Through Him then, let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that give thanks to His name" (Hebrews 13:15). Not on a physical altar but "in Spirit and truth" (John 4:23-24) are we to worship God, presenting ourselves as "a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God" (Romans 12:1).

Thus, Christians would do well to avoid the use of the term "altar" to refer either to the communion table or to the "front of the church."

Words, however, tend to have a certain flexibility of connotation. Well-meaning Christians have been apt to speak about "the family altar." What they mean is simply the regular practice of offering up family worship and devotion to God through Bible reading and instruction, hymn-singing, and prayer. They do not, at least for the most part, mean an actual place or an altar of sacrifice in the Old Testament sense; rather they are simply thinking in spiritual terms--the act of offering up prayer and praise to God. In fact, a well known Reformed denomination at one time, not very many years ago, even named the daily, devotional booklet that it published for private and family use, The Family Altar.

One final note is in order. Significantly, we see the book of Revelation (certainly a New Testament book that takes into account the death and resurrection of Christ) referring to a golden altar before God that yet remains in heaven (6:9, 8:3, 9:13, 11:1, 14:18, and 16:7). How shall we understand this? Is there a literal, physical altar in heaven that covers the souls of the martyrs? No, for we see something of the symbolism intended here when in Revelation 16:7, the altar speaks! The very presence in heaven of a worshipping congregation that has overcome the world is a living testimony to God that declares, "Yes, O Lord God, the Almighty, true and righteous are Thy judgments."

May God bless you in your understanding of His Word and in the offering up of true and faithful worship in Christ. We hope you continue to seek the truth.

Blessings,
Dan