As many of you know, I’m a freediver––
although, sadly, I can’t train properly at the moment.
In simple terms, freediving is diving––
or, even, swimming underwater––
while holding your breath.
In theory, it’s really an extension of snorkelling.
And many people, who…
when snorkelling…
simply dive below the surface and hold their breath for a little bit…
class themselves as ‘freedivers’.
But, as a competitive freediver, there’s a lot more to it than that.
We specifically train to stay under and to go further––
to push our limits––
but in a safe and controlled way.
And elite freedivers are able to do quite remarkable things.
Swimming horizontally underwater, the world record for men is a staggering three hundred metres.
That’s six laps of an Olympic pool…
on one breath!
In terms of simple length of breath-hold…
the men’s world record is a little over eleven and a half minutes.
Of course, to achieve those staggering feats, specialised equipment is used––
long-bladed diving fins, about a metre in length…
and usually made out of carbon-fibre;
or, more frequently now, a large single fin––
a bit like a dolphin’s tail;
but, also, smooth wetsuits that reduce drag;
and weights worn around the neck to offset the buoyancy of air in the lungs.
Of course, in order to achieve those staggering feats hours of specialised training is involved:
yoga or stretching…
swimming…
repeated breath-hold practice…
carbon-dioxide tolerance training…
lactic acid tolerance training…
altitude or hypoxic training…
and the refining of technique.
But there’s more to it than that.
Perhaps, what sets freediving apart from other sports is the mental aspect.
Many…
if not all sports…
require a lot of mental toughness and self-belief.
But the real difference is the first thing that you learn as a freediver…
namely…
relaxation.
It’s only possible to freedive by deliberately focussing on your breathing––
breathing slowly, calmly, and deeply…
using your stomach, your diaphragm, and your chest;
by focussing on that you can slow your heart rate…
relax your body…
get rid of stress…
and enter a meditative state.
Because anxiety, stress, even adrenaline are a freediver’s worst enemies…
because they make you consume more oxygen…
limiting time and distance.
There are certain physiological changes that happen when you hold your breath underwater…
which help enormously.
But, it’s impossible to be a competitive freediver––
and to push your times and distances––
without the ability to relax, meditate, and mentally switch off.
The human mind––
and the way that it influences or even controls our body––
is an astonishing thing.
Of course, we all know about the placebo effect––
where people in drug trials are given a simple sugar pill…
but, because they believe it to be an efficacious drug, it produces an effect.
Anthropologists also identify what they call the “nocebo” effect…
where someone believes that something will harm them––
like a curse…
or a voodoo spell…
or having a bone pointed at them––
and it does.
But, perhaps the most powerful aspect of all is the power of imagination.
As part of their preparation…
elite sports-people often imaginatively visualise their race beforehand.
Many a work of art begins in the imagination of the artist long before brush touches canvas…
or hand touches clay––
and yet, for a good artist, the result is as they have imagined.
What we may not always appreciate is the role that imagination plays in religion.
And I don’t mean, by that, the disparaging comments made by cynics and militant atheists…
about ‘imaginary sky-friends’ and the like.
I mean that religion has…
historically…
so often functioned at the level of the imagination.
Not only can religion stimulate the imagination…
but imagination, in turn, can drive religious understanding.
Perhaps we see this well illustrated in the mentality of the ancient Hebrews…
and, especially, in their approach to ritual.
From ancient times, their celebration of the Passover––
their primordial foundational myth––
has been essentially an exercise in religious imagination.
Through its ritualised meal…
with its different symbolic elements…
they weren’t just remembering the story––
in the sense of a mere intellectual recollection.
Rather, they were, imaginatively, living the events.
Not re-living the events…
but living them––
as if for the first time;
as if they, themselves, were taking part.
Indeed, the instructions in their ancient text were to “celebrate as one who had gone out of Egypt”.
Through the symbols and the telling of the story…
they imaginatively lived the event…
and made it their own.
It was as if they, at that moment, were escaping Egypt.
The point was that––
through this imaginative engagement––
they would live as redeemed people…
they would be thankful to God…
and that mindset would inculcate a certain behaviour and…
correspondingly…
a certain way of life.
So, what does all of this have to do with our reading this morning…
from Paul’s letter to the Romans?
Here, Paul is suggesting that being a Christian means a fundamental change of life…
a fundamental reorientation of life.
And, in particular, he links that to baptism.
“Do you not know that all of us who have been baptised into Christ Jesus were baptised into his death? Therefore, we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead, by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his”.
Paul, here, is applying that ancient Hebrew way of thinking––
most often seen in the Passover––
to baptism.
He invites his readers to live that event imaginatively—
to imagine their baptism as a death and rebirth.
He invites them to imagine that––
in the death of Jesus––
they, too, died:
died to all that was wrong…
all that was broken…
all that was ‘ungodly’ in their lives.
And then, he invites them to imagine that––
in the resurrection of Jesus––
they, too, have been raised:
raised to new, whole, abundant life.
And then, he urges them to live out the reality that they imagine.
That, Paul seems to suggest, is the only way that they will truly change;
that is the only way to become more Christ-like.
For so many of us––
as heirs of the Enlightenment and the Reformation…
and, to a certain extent, even post-modernism–– religion is a purely cerebral affair.
Fundamentally, it’s about what we believe––
by which, I mean, the things to which we give intellectual assent.
Sometimes…
but not necessarily…
that may affect how we live.
For others, religion is a sensory even an aesthetic affair––
it feeds us spiritually while it engages our senses and sensibilities.
But Paul, here, suggests that it’s far more than that––
or that it should be.
It ought to engage us imaginatively.
What would happen if we came to worship…
imaginatively expecting to encounter God…
and imaginatively expecting to be transformed?
What would happen if we imaginatively saw ourselves as having died with Christ…
and having been raised to newness of life?
We could not stay the same.
The Church would not stay the same.
And our world would definitely not remain the same!