Lessons You Didn’t Know You Already Knew - from Surfing

Image: Aaron Hughs

By Cheyne Rippey

There is a special feeling in surfing when you paddle for a wave that is too big for you, but you go anyway. You stand up (or stay prone and set-up if bodyboarding/bodysurfing), drop-in down the face of the wave giving you all the speed and momentum you could handle, dig your rail as hard as possible against the speeding water trying to thrust you up over the lip, and you pump through two or three sections with the whitewash just barely whispering behind your neck. You do your final bottom turn and stall into the inside barrel as the lip throws out ahead of you, giving you a look out a window few are chosen to experience. Reef below you, hell behind you, heaven in front of you, and time escapes you. You come out of the barrel, the wave gives up, and you exit into the channel. You throw up your hands when you exit out the shoulder and uncle Kimo “che-hoo's” for you! Some say it’s a spiritual experience. This is the easy explanation of why we surf. It is fun when we challenge nature and win (it’s no fun when nature wins).

On a deeper level, why does surfing attract every type of person regardless of race, sex, or religion? How do surfers surf thousands of waves throughout a lifetime and still get stoked each time?

I want to get back to the origins of surfing waves to see it in its true colors. Why did God make the waves? The answer can’t be, “To surf them,” since we’ve only been doing that for about a hundred years. How did people pre-19th century see waves? Before Duke did all that he did, did people even consider riding them for fun? I mean, big swells were just barriers to fishing and feeding families. I doubt any fishing boats paddled out during a 60-ft. swell at Nazaré. I bet you can’t even look at a picture of waves and not think about surfing it! I can’t.

Now look at a surfer. He jumps in the water but brings a board so he stays out of it. That’s kind of ironic, isn't it? Philosophically, it's pointless. Then the weirdest thing happens: surfers “stall” on the wave to ride inside the most treacherous part of the wave in hopes they’ll survive. What is this logic? You paddle for a wave, get as close as you can to the most dangerous spot of the wave, and then work your tail off to get away from that dangerous spot. You literally get inside the wave with the goal of getting out. Who does that? Do you take a plate out of the cupboard in order to put it back in? Do you drive a mile away from home just so you can drive home? There must be something more to this thing called surf. There’s no economy in surfing. There's no functional use. Yeah, yeah, I know… "because it's fun." But that answer doesn’t satisfy me enough.

So why do we surf (and most other extreme sports for what it’s worth)?

I recently had correspondence with Dr. Peter Kreeft at Boston College who is a fantastic writer, philosopher, and, believe it or not, a lover of the waves. On this question of why we humans surf, he provided me some great words. At first, I thought we surfed because “conquering nature” was part of how we humans imitate God (since God is greater than nature). However, that is a very dangerous idea since “playing God” is actually the fall of man! Instead, I realize that

Christians surf not because we are playing God, but because we are playing with God.

As the Westminster Shorter Catechism says, our “chief end is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.” Kreeft explains, “Soul surfers do not want to conquer the wave any more than our prayers are attempts to conquer God and wrestle Him down to our will… We love the sea not because we play God there but because it refutes our folly of playing God anywhere.” 

We pray not to confine God to our will, but to commune with Him.

We very well know that the ocean has the power to take us, drown us, pull us out to sea, knock our heads unconscious, make us bleed, break our bones, and have a predator use our bodies as probably-unsatisfying supper. And surely every surfer has had a mild confrontation in one of these ways.

This is our evangelism:

That the Christian Surfer surfs with purpose (to enjoy God forever).

While the unbeliever surfs only “because it’s fun” (the feelings of adrenaline, conquering nature, or social status). While those are fun, they’re meaningless by themselves. This is the classic situation of Ecclesiastes. Without God, all that we do is meaningless. With God by our side, it’s for His purposes and glory.

Next time you’re in the lineup, think of ways that you can show this great truth to others out there.