Surfing legend Tom Blake once carved “Nature = God” on a tree. While I don’t share Blake’s belief, I understand how he arrived at that conclusion. I mean, what surfer hasn’t paddled into the ocean and wondered at the majesty of it all?
Without naming it, I was a believer in the separation of church and surf as a young man. I confessed my sins to my priest, went to church, took communion and felt I was safe for a solid week, when the cycle began again.
Saturdays and Sunday afternoons were for surfing, and to me, surfing and God were somehow separate at that time. God was God, nature was nature and surfing was surfing, and in direct competition with Catholicism, which was my religion at the time.
As a surfer, Phil Edwards was my new high priest, and Dick Dale the worship leader.
One of North County’s most prominent breaks, Swami’s, is named for Paramahansa Yogananda. Yogananda is known for being among the first Indian gurus to attempt a marriage of Eastern and Western religion, primarily, as I understand it, Christianity and Hinduism.
Many of my friends ascribe to Yogananda’s belief and attend Self-Realization Fellowship, which is peacefully perched on the cliffs above Swami’s.
In 1969, I moved to Maui for six months. There, I fell in with a group of Baha’i. The Baha’i faith made sense to me since it linked the teachings of all mainstream religions into one. They called it “progressive revelation,” a doctrine that can be summarized by humankind receiving only as much light as they could take in at once.
By then I had abandoned Catholicism in favor of a freelance Protestant faith, something that helped me see God in nature (the beauty of Maui can make a believer of even the staunchest agnostic.)
I studied with Baha’i, and even heard the last Baha’i Hand of the Cause speak in Maui. I then studied briefly with Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses. I have listened to the teachings of gurus, practiced yoga and fasted a few times for up to three days.
I binge-read Alan Watts and waded through some atheistic tomes. I once heard American author Norman Mailer speak on his conversion to theism, using the naive reasoning we had memorized in seventh grade Catechism.
I don’t remember the exact words, but the argument was that the complexity of the universe pointed directly at God. Later, someone would expound upon that thought, saying, “The universe either always existed, created itself from nothing, or was made by an eternal being beyond space and time.”
But how could so brilliant a mind as Mailer’s not come to that conclusion half a century earlier, I wondered. Then it hit me. Mailer was a smart city boy, not used to contemplating the vertical leap of sea creatures more than twice his size. Not used to seeing shooting stars. Not used to watching the sun rise and set or following the beat of the ever- changing tides.
Norman Mailer, to my knowledge, had never surfed. Not surprisingly, he was in La Jolla, only a few blocks from Windansea, in the midst of a solid south swell when he made his theistic pronouncement.
My purpose here is not to proselytize, but to encourage investigation. If you are a surfer, you’ve probably already drawn your conclusion. If not, may I suggest heading to your favorite beach, removing your shoes and putting your feet in the water. As you melt into the sun and the sea, you might want to ask some basic questions. I hope to see you there.
