Salmon Jesus

My husband and I call it Salmon-Jesus! It was the first thing I saw that morning, over 4 years ago, when I walked in the door as a visitor to St. Luke’s. I was immediately attracted to this unusual ceramic crucifix in the chancel of the church. But wait! It was not a crucifix at all, but a risen Christ. I discovered this sculpture was called the “Christus Rex” – Christ the King – and that it was made of high-fired clay by the potter, (and my neighbor), the late Bennett Welsh. This created in me an immediate connection and affection for my new house of worship. I had long been an admirer of Mr. Welsh’s work and also dabbled in art and pottery myself. So to find a church that had a value for art and such a non-traditional Jesus, was a soul-warming experience. After all, Jesus was pretty non-traditional and counter-cultural in real life.

I was told that this sculpture of the risen Christ symbolized the endangered church. There is Jesus, arms outstretched, against a backdrop of old growth firs. There are brilliant red, spawning, dying, wild, sacrificial salmon, leaping right through his glorified body. A small spotted owl hovers against the Savior’s breast. All seem a familiar part of our local culture and they are perfect reflections of the struggle for survival going on in our NW backyards - and indeed - the whole world. I can certainly understand these natural symbols of endangered species, but the endangered church? Hmmm. What correlations for the church do I gather as I behold this Christ each week at worship?

Lately, I am making meager attempts to learn sustainable practices in my gardening and eating, shopping and recycling. I want these values in the bloodstream of my spiritual life as well. How is the ecology of my church life? Does my own heart include wild places and wonder? Mystery, silence and reverence for the earth? If so, does that spill over into my community?

Do I possess a theology that supports sustainability? I looked up “sustain” in the thesaurus. The list of words poured out like honey! Listen to this: to bear up, support, to carry, encourage, to shore up, assist, comfort, to succor, give strength, to buoy up, to keep alive, to preserve, to perpetuate, to conserve, to maintain, to nourish, feed, to nurture! Shall I go on? Wow! Who wouldn’t like to go to a church that practiced sustainability!

After a bit of thought, one word seemed to epitomize all these amazing descriptions: HOSPITALITY. That one word probably drives the environmentalism at all levels of my life. Christian hospitality as I understand it, is the creation of sanctuary — an atmosphere in which all who enter feel loved, accepted and safe. It is why I love the ministry of the labyrinth and the garden around it. The bench and the birdbath beckon the stranger and welcome the weary. The labyrinth invites a slowing down for quiet and contemplation. It’s a haven of sustainability! A place for inner and outer sanctuary. Where heaven and nature sing.

And so also, “Salmon Jesus” whispers and winks this radical hospitality to us every Sunday during worship.

"But now ask the beasts, and let them teach you;

And the birds of the heavens, and let them tell you.

Or speak to the earth, and let it teach you;

And let the fish of the sea declare to you.

Who among all these does not know

That the hand of the LORD has done this." Job 12