I recently came across a beautiful documentary film called My Octopus Teacher. Set on the rugged coast of South Africa, it tells the story of filmmaker Craig Foster’s journey to healing and self-discovery through a unique friendship he develops with an octopus. I’ll try to limit spoilers in case you want to watch the film for yourself, which I highly recommend. It won best documentary feature at the Academy Awards in 2021 and is currently streaming on Netflix.
The film begins with Craig Foster describing his youth and the love for the natural world that his parents instilled in him. They lived in a house so close to the ocean that it literally flooded during big storms. Craig knew well both the peacefulness and the chaos of the sea. Alongside his passion for the natural world, he developed an equal love for making art that showcased the wonder of creation, and his medium was film.
Over time, though, after experiencing some commercial success because of his art, and being pulled away from the life-giving natural world into the suffocating stresses of the filmmaking industry, he burned out. He couldn’t sleep well anymore, he grew depressed, and felt like he “never wanted to enter a film editing room again.” At one point, he couldn’t even get out of bed.
Eventually Craig found his way back to the ocean and began to swim and dive daily, rediscovering the lush kelp forests he enjoyed in his youth. If he could reconnect with his original passion for the natural world, he thought, maybe healing would follow. Little did he know that he was to discover a companion hidden in those kelp forests–one that would not only foster his healing, but teach him profound lessons about life.
We’ll get back to Craig and his octopus, but I want to mention another person who was also in profound need of healing and restoration: Job. He had reached the limit of his endurance and was in deep despair. After years of adversity and misfortune, he pleads with God for an audience, crying out, “Oh, that I had someone to hear me… let the Almighty respond…!” And Job does receive God’s answer, but it’s a peculiar one. God doesn’t provide a logical rationale for Job’s suffering. He doesn’t even offer words of comfort. Instead, in one of the most beautiful pieces of poetry in the Bible, God paints a picture of the grandeur of creation. From the foundations of the earth, deep under the sea, to the heights of the mountains; from the splendor and power of the rain and wind to the awe-inspiring artistry of the animal kingdom: “Who put wisdom in remote places,” God asks, “or who gave understanding to a rooster?” “Where were you while the morning stars sang in unison and all the divine beings shouted?” God goes on to describe the powerfully built behemoth and the fearsomely armored leviathan, the monsters of creation—truly unfathomable creatures.
As a result of God’s poetic description of the universe, Job is transformed. God’s words free him from his prison of painful despair and teach him that he has a place among the wild masterpieces of creation, even among the stars. While none of this undoes the sorrow that Job experienced, it offers a perspective that has the power to heal. In Job’s response to God’s words from the whirlwind, which we heard this morning, he says, “My ears had heard about you, but now my eyes have seen you. Therefore, I relent and find comfort on dust and ashes.” This is an example of what the Christian tradition would come to call spiritual consolation, which is a state of solace rooted in religious faith or belief. Consolation is not merely the absence of anxiety or pain, it is, rather, a deep knowledge of God’s abiding presence and our imperishable union with the divine. God’s love transcends our questions of “why” and “how” and offers, instead, a hearty embrace from the foundations of creation. The earth, the moon, the stars, the seas, and all of God’s creatures say to us, “you are home.”
You could say that for Job, God’s poetry was akin to a refreshing dive into a kelp forest off the coast of South Africa, where all the wonderfully strange creatures greeted him with open arms.
During one of Craig Foster’s dives, he caught a glimpse of something entirely foreign out of the corner of his eye. Having grown up exploring these kelp forests, he had never encountered anything quite like it. It resembled a sculpture, about the size of a bowling ball, adorned with shells, rocks, and other debris from the seafloor. Fish swam around this strange object, equally perplexed. As Craig slowly moved in for a closer look, the sculpture suddenly shed all its decorations and darted away, leaving only a cloud of black ink behind. It was an octopus!
In the days that followed, Craig returned to the same spot in the forest, determined to find the octopus again. He observed it as it hunted, hid, and even played with other sea creatures. The octopus was aware of Craig watching from behind the kelp and began to tolerate his presence—perhaps even to expect it. One day, the octopus extended a tentacle to touch Craig’s hand. From that moment on, their bond deepened. For the next year, Craig visited the octopus every day, re-learning what it felt like to be a part of God’s wild and splendid creation, healing more and more with each encounter.
“Have you gone to the sea’s sources,” says God, “walked in the chamber of the deep?… Have you surveyed the earth’s expanses? Tell me if you know everything about it.”
Job and Craig Foster both sought healing and restoration. The pressures of life had pushed them to their emotional and physical limits, and God responded. While they may not have received the answers they expected, they got the ones they truly needed. This same answer is available to you and me. The wild world is eager to embrace us and remind us of our roots. God speaks from the whirlwind, from the forest, and even through an octopus. Consolation can be found in the most unexpected places. May we have ears to hear and eyes to see.
Proper 25, Year B