Biology, Theology and Ichthyology…

I have a pond that is really central to our beautiful garden landscape. At its peak during the summer, it is colorful, serene and attracts birds and other interesting wildlife, and the sound of spilling water is so calming. At night I have it softly lit so we can enjoy it when sitting out with a fire and glass of wine.
I have a spring and fall ritual for opening the pond season and closing it down for the winter. I like to choose one of the last warm days of autumn to cut my water lilies down, dredge out the debris, clean and store the filter parts. But most important to this ritual, is catching the fish and bringing them in to a tank I've set up in my basement to house them during the brutally frigid Chicago winter months when the pond freezes over solid.

I have to imagine the fish would welcome this controlled indoor environment, especially if they knew what the alternative was – a very dark and cold entombment until April. Koi and goldfish are coldblooded, so it's possible for them to survive outdoors for the winter. This is providing that there is a hole in the ice to allow for exchange of surface gases. Koi and goldfish, if left outdoors for the cold season, begin to go into hibernation mode when the water temperature reaches about 50 degrees. They stop eating and their metabolism slows down to conserve energy as they prepare for a state of suspended animation. I know this, because I used to leave my fish to withstand the winter elements for years. I gave them a fighting chance by using a stock tank heater which floats on the surface and uses just enough energy to allow for a small hole in the ice.

This is the second year I brought my fish indoors. They look so content in the tank, free from predators, warm and well-fed. This makes me feel like a fish-god of sorts. This all made me wonder why my fish were trying so hard to hide and evade my net when all I sincerely want is what's ultimately best for them. This is much the way we often react to our loving God in Heaven. We run and try and hide, because of course, we know what's best for ourselves. I was getting frustrated as I tried to catch the fish and wishing I could somehow make them realize that I'm only doing what is best for their well-being.

It's interesting, that the Christian symbol for God is fish-related. There are a few explanations for this. Fish do not close their eyes, so the perception is they never really sleep. God is all seeing and never closes His eyes. Then of course there is the ichthus symbol, from the ancient Greek word for fish… (Ich-thoos).
In the early Christian church – 1^st and 2^nd century, there was so much persecution of Christian believers, that ichthus was used as a secret code in order to establish that you were a believer. One believer would draw a curved line, like a smile, in the dirt with a stick. If the other person was a believer too, they would draw the opposite curve, but inverted and the line would intersect just enough to give the impression of a tail fin, this would create the fish symbol known as icthus that adorns many car bumpers today. Incidentally, the study and science of marine life is known as Ichthyology.