Are There Waves in Heaven? What Surfing Has Taught Me About Life and Faith
- Bobby Jakucs, Psy.D.
- 2 days ago
- 11 min read
Updated: 19 hours ago
"The world will never starve for want of wonders; but only for want of wonder."
- G.K. Chesterton
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For as long as I can remember I’ve been fascinated by the ocean. The raw power. The primal mystery. The indescribable beauty.
I’m so fascinated by it that I’ve spent nearly three decades of my life riding waves. For 30 years I’ve been surfing. The only identity I’ve carried longer (thanks be to God) is a Christian.
Few things, have had a more profound influence in my life. I’m not alone. The Catholic philosopher Peter Kreeft, also a surfer, wrote a whole book, I Surf Therefore I Am, dedicated to what surfing taught him about philosophy – and about faith.
He writes that what happens when you start surfing what happens is, “most of all, you will fall hopelessly in love. From the moment of your first wave, you are doomed. Lost forever. Once you go to Heaven, you don’t come back to earth.”
Every surfer knows this to be true in a physical way. Every Christian knows this to be true in transcendent way. In both cases surfing has an incredible way of revealing deeper truths.
It’s also a lot of fun.
You might not be a surfer. That’s ok. Richard John Neuhaus wrote that, “all truth is God’s truth, because all truth comes from the Truth.” You don’t need to ride waves to recognize the truth in them.
Seasons of Surfing and Seasons of Life
Every year around this time I get a little “weird” according to my wife. Weirder than usual (again per my wife).
It’s harder to focus. I carry a bit more restlessness than usual. There is something called Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), that many people suffer from, particularly during long, grey winters. But I’m writing this in Southern California in Spring.
The truth is many surfers suffer from a different kind of SAD. Spring Surfing Affective Disorder (SSAD). While you won’t find it in a diagnostic manual, it is no less real.
That is because Spring in California – while beautiful – is a complete bust for surfers. The prevailing winds turn the ocean from sheet glass, which surfers prefer for smoother waves, into something resembling the Victory at Sea documentaries.
This time of year, we often get “skunked” and “shut down." Meaning, one of the things that most gives us joy in the world we simply can’t do. It’s easy to fall into the doldrums, thinking that “it’s always going to be this way.”
Life is like that. We go through seasons where, if it weren’t for Murphy’s Law there would be no law at all.
But then seasons change. New winds blow and the waves return. The water even gets warmer as a bonus. Sometimes, we just need to ride out the seasons and remember that no matter how long the Spring, Summer will come soon.
Christians call this hope. St. Francis de Sales, in his incredible work Introduction to the Devout Life, writes, “Do not look forward to the changes and chances of this life in fear; rather look to them with full hope that as they arise, God, whose you are, will deliver you out of them.”
Hope that after every Spring, Summer will come. Hope that after each dark night there is a new dawn.
And ultimately, Hope that for every Cross there is a Crown.
What Storms Teach Us About Meaning
Waves are generated from storms. They travel thousands of miles to reach the shore. Once there they hit sand bars, reefs and points. The places where we surfers meet them.
Storms create waves. The storms in our life do the same. They can make us bitter, or they can shape us into some deeper, stronger and more compassionate.
We often don’t see the effects of a storm until much later. Until long after the waves have passed.
Viktor Frankl, a man who knew storms well, famously said, the last of the human freedoms was man’s ability to choose how to respond his circumstances. That is, the courageous stance a man takes towards life.
We don’t choose the waves we’re sent.
But we can choose how to ride them.
You Have to Paddle Out
Modern surfer’s have many luxuries, from wetsuits to keep us warm in frigid temperatures to leashes for when we wipe out. One of the latest conveniences is on-demand video surf reports.
Every morning, surfers wake up and “check the report” to see how it is and decide whether or not to go. Sometimes this is helpful...particularly in Spring.
But, there are many days where it’s questionable. It’s a coin toss whether it will be a fun day of riding waves or just a workout. And the mind starts to say, “Oh maybe I won’t go today. It probably won’t be that good.” Then you find out from a friend that it was one of those perfect days you dream about.
Every surfer has been on both sides of that conversation.
The point is, many times you just don’t know how the surf will be until you get in the water and catch a few waves. So to in life. The mind will come up with a hundred reasons why or why not to do something - apply for a job, ask someone out, call a friend you’ve neglected, or dust off that Bible.
You simply won’t know what will happen until you paddle out.
Every Wave Is a Gift: Surfing and Gratitude
Peter Kreeft describing what it’s like to catch your first wave writes, “you will know that you have not chosen it, it has chosen you. You have simply put yourself into the holy place where the gift was given.”
Waves are like Grace. They are complete gift. We don’t deserve them. We certainly don’t make them. All we can do is receive them.
When you realize that, you can’t help but be grateful for every wave.
Yes, even the wipeouts.
Surfing, Surrender, and the End of Ego
I once heard an old surfer in the line-up tell me, “you know who the best surfer is out here? The one who’s smiling.”
Surfing is a lot like dancing. The moment you start thinking about it you are probably doing it wrong.
Surfing requires surrendering the desire to control. You cant make a wave “do” anything. You can either ride it or not. And in order to ride it you need to focus on the wave, not on yourself. When that shift away from the ego toward otherness happens experience changes. Time stands still. Joy “happens.”
Researchers call this a flow state. But it’s nothing new. There is a reason so many saints and sages preach surrender.
Fr. Jacques Philippe observed that we often lose peace because we try to control things that are not ours to control. He writes, “The principal cause of our lack of peace is that we seek to control what does not depend on us”
Every surfer comes to realize they control very little. We do not control the tide, the swell, the wind, or the crowd.
We certainly do not control each wave that comes up. And, each wave, like each moment, asks a question: “how will you ride me?”
All we can do is answer.
You Can't Surf Yesterday's Wave: The Present Moment
Modern life constantly pulls us out of the present. We replay old conversations, worry about future outcomes, and live in worlds that do not exist. Surfer’s get caught up in this too.
Judgments. Evaluations. Predictions:
“It was definitely better yesterday.”
“Tomorrow will be better, a new swell is coming in!”
“I think when the tide drops it will improve.”
“If only the wind was offshore!”
But you cannot surf yesterday’s wave. You cannot change the wind. You cannot surf the wave you wish was coming tomorrow.
All you have is this wave, this breath, this moment.
Surfing has a way of bringing us back to reality. Fr. Jean-Pierre de Caussade wrote that the present moment is "filled with infinite treasure." That present moment, that infinite treasure, is where God meets us.
If we let Him.
Surfing, Joy and Childlike Wonder
Ben Franklin is often quoted as saying, “beer is proof that God loves us an wants us to be happy.” And while I’d advocate for moderation, I won’t argue with the premise. But, I do wonder if Ben Franklin had waxed up a log and paddled out past the breakers perhaps he’d have replaced beer with surfing.
People drink because it makes them happy. People surf because it makesthem happy. Plain and simple. Yes, surfing is physical fitness. Yes, it’s socializing. Yes, it’s spending time in nature. Yes, surfing is all of the above. But at the end of the day it is simply fun.
And unlike too much alcohol, there’s no hangover. Maybe just a sunburn and a glare from your wife when you get back late (again).
I once had a priest in confession tell me, “You know God wants you to be happy, right?” How often do we forget that? That we are fundamentally made out of love for the purpose of happiness.
The best surfers are the happiest surfers. And the happiest surfers are the ones that appreciate each wave with wonder.
Kreeft captures this best when he describes the stoke, the word surfers use to describe the feeling of surfing:
“Eighty-year-old surfers say it’s just as thrilling after 70 years of surfing as it was on their first wave...watch the pure, childlike joy arise on their faces like a swell on a sea, when that great cosmic force, wearing a wave as it’s clothing, overtakes them and lifts them up into Heaven, into eternity, out of time, out of sight of land.”
Our Lord said we must have faith like a child. Watch someone surf for the first time and you’ll understand why.
Surfing and Humility
Humility comes from the Latin word “humus” meaning from the earth. Surfing has a way of teaching you humility. Some days you are on. Catching every wave with ease, speeding down the line and effortlessly turning that green wall into your personal canvas. A veritable Michealangelo of surfing.
Then the next time you go out your timing is wrong, you struggle to catch even the easiest wave. Far from Michelangelo you wonder if you even learned finger painting. Just when you think you have figured it out, the ocean has a way of reminding you are still learning.
St. Theresa of Avila famously said, “Humility is walking in truth.” The truth? There will always be someone better, faster, stronger, and more talented. There will always be better waves too. Surfing teaches what St. Theresa meant. Humility is not thinking less of yourself. It’s thinking of yourself truthfully.
Oddly, surfing teaches you that there is more to your life than surfing – in fact, infinitely more.
Surfing and Faith: Commit to the Drop
My favorite part of surfing is that moment of catching a wave. Surfers call this the "take off" or "the drop." As you paddle, you are trying to match the speed of a wall of water that’s traveled thousands of miles. You feel its energy. The same energy that is harnessed to power cities. The moment you connect with it, your energy and the waves become one.
At that moment, you never really know what is going to happen. Perhaps it is one of those waves you’ll dream about for years to come, or a humbling wipeout. Either way you make a leap of faith.
You commit to the drop.
You go all in.
Many things in life require that kind of commitment. Marriage most of all. Two people become one flesh. Neither knows what lies ahead. Both take a leap of faith and step out into the unknown future. Hand in hand, and heart in heart, they commit to seeing life through to the end.
The energy of a wave can power a city. The energy of faithful, sacrificial love builds families, communities and civilizations. It powers the whole world.
You never know exactly what the wave will do when after it breaks.
You never know exactly what marriage will bring after you say, “I do”.
You never know exactly where God will lead after He says, “come, follow me.”
At some point, you have to stop treading water.
You have to commit to the drop.
Not Every Wave is Yours: Surfing and Discernment
Not every wave is worth catching. A lot are better left unridden. Over time, you learn to recognize which waves you commit to and which waves to let pass.
This kind of wave wisdom only comes with time.
There’s another part to it. While surfing is an individual experience– you and the wave – it is also communal. Surfers are a tribe – the surfing tribe. If you meet a fellow surfer anywhere in the world you have an instant connection.
Because every surfer knows you're usually not the only surfer in the water. There’s a social order and a “line-up”, in which you wait you're a member. Things like generosity are appreciated. The unwritten rule of surfing is you share the stoke.
Some people never quite master it. They become in surfer slang “wave hogs” – surfers who paddle for every wave.
Surfing for them is a solo activity. And surfing, like life, was never meant to be a solo activity.
God in the Silence Between Waves
There is a lot of waiting between waves. In fact, most of the time spent surfing is actually time spent waiting. It’s part of the process.
Each wave is a word the ocean speaks. When we ride, we not only receive - we listen. The waiting often feels like silence.
But the thing you realize is that the ocean still speaks between the waves.
The breeze is blowing. The sun is shining off the water. There are fellow surfers around you. Birds are singing in praise. Indeed, allcreation shouts for joy.
Surfing is as much about all of this than the few seconds of riding a wave.
God too often speaks to us in silence – the Silence of the Empty Tomb. The Silence of the Eucharist. And the silence of our hearts.
What the Ocean Really Teaches
There’s a story I love about St. Augustine. Now, St. Augustine didn’t surf. But for the record, if he did, I think he’d probably have been a longboarder. After all, tradition goes a long way.
One day, he was walking along the shore wrestling with a major theological mystery, The Holy Trinity. As he was pondering, he noticed a young boy near him. The boy would run to the ocean, fill some water in a jug he was carrying and pour it into a small hole in the sand.
He did this several times while the Saint watched. At some point, Augustine said, “What are you doing?”
The boy replied, “I’m trying to empty the ocean into this hole.”
To which Augustine said, “That hole is far to small. It’s impossible to put the entire ocean in there!”
Without a moment's pause, the boy replied, “Just as it is impossible for your finite mind to grasp the mystery of God.” Then, the boy vanished leaving the Saint in awesome wonder.
So, are there waves in Heaven? I have no idea.
But I suspect the reason surfers keep paddling back out has less to do with waves than what waves awaken in us.
Gratitude. Wonder. Humility. Presence. Joy.
Perhaps every good wave is a small reminder that we were made for something greater. A faint echo of the happiness we seek and the home for which our hearts ultimately long.
And if there are waves in Heaven, I imagine they're pretty good.
