Conversations with a Ghost
It's never too late to listen...
Afterward Jesus appeared again to his disciples, by the Sea of Galilee. It happened this way…
John 21:1 (NIV)
In August of 1999, the hottest film in theaters was M. Night Shyamalan’s The Sixth Sense. In this film, a young boy reveals to his therapist that he can “see dead people,” and ultimately the audience learns (along with the therapist) that all throughout the duration of the film the therapist has been dead. A ghost therapist, so to speak; a counselor from the great beyond. With my adolescent sense of humor on full display, I leaned over to a young couple walking in to see the movie as I was leaving and said, “the therapist is dead the whole time,” a spoiler that essentially ruined the dramatic punch line of the film for the couple. Within weeks of seeing this film, my adolescent sense of humor and I entered our senior year of high school.
My mentor, teacher, and closest friend during my senior year of high school was Mr. Joseph P. Hiney. Joe (or, Mr. Hiney, as I called him), was the theatre teacher and director for all our high school stage productions. He was also the brilliant mind behind the one-act play “Echoes in the Hallway,” which he wrote for our one-act team to perform in competition across the state that year. Every day after school, I and a group of my closest friends would gather onstage in the auditorium to rehearse and work through this challenging drama focused on the dangers of high-stakes testing in public education. ‘Standards of Learning’ testing was about to change what an educational experience would be, forever, across the entire public school system of Virginia. Our production which spoke out against this strange new educational paradigm would go on to win awards and accolades from judges, and was eventually filmed and used by other school districts around the nation to combat the rising wave of high-stakes testing in public education during the early years of this century. We were all proud of that play, and proud to have been a part of it along with Mr. Hiney.
Throughout my senior year, a day seldom passed without my interacting with Mr. Hiney. We had all the usual mentor/mentee conversations about life and ambitions and values and more. I admired his devotion to his wife and his skills as an educator and artist, his physical fitness paired with his theater training, and even his Dodge pickup truck. He complimented my academic work and my skills as a musician, my ambitions, and my general attitude toward life. One week before graduation, after walking out of the school together at the end of the day, we said goodbye and headed to our respective homes and never saw each other alive again. He was struck and killed by a reckless driver while riding his bicycle a few short hours later.
***
As Jesus appeared to his disciples following his resurrection, there must have been a strange vibe among these old friends. While the disciples surely felt relief that Jesus’ death didn’t end Jesus’ story, they must have also been confused about what they saw and heard when having conversations with a ghost. They had watched Jesus die. They had helped bury him. They had just begun to come to terms with their new life absent their mentor, teacher, friend. And yet, Jesus was out among the living.
Simon Peter, Thomas (also known as Didymus), Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two other disciples were together. “I’m going out to fish,” Simon Peter told them, and they said, “We’ll go with you.” So they went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.
Early in the morning, Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus.
He called out to them, “Friends, haven’t you any fish?”
“No,” they answered.
He said, “Throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some.” When they did, they were unable to haul the net in because of the large number of fish.
John 21: 2-6, NIV
For twenty-five years I’ve heard a voice from out beyond the waves. In times of overwhelming fear, the voice is a calming reassurance. In times of celebration, the voice is a championing cheer. In times of quiet reflection, the voice is more of a comforting presence. It seems ridiculous for me to suggest that voice is Joe’s voice. It seems ridiculous for me to suggest that voice is even real outside my imagination. But then, I know who’s voice it is, echoing across time, providing the same advice and the same support as that voice ever has. Sometimes the best advice comes from conversations with a ghost.
***
The disciples know a thing or two about conversations with a ghost. In John’s Gospel, there are several examples of the first disciples talking to Jesus after observing his death. We even find them taking fishing advice from a ghost. This seems ridiculous to the observer for several reasons. First, because we know these disciples were fishermen and had plenty of experience and skill to work the sea on their own, they shouldn’t have needed advice from someone on the beach. Second, it seems ridiculous to the observer because this voice from the beach is that of a ghost - that is, one who was dead and is once again interacting with people. But then, the observer also knows whose voice it is that calls, and that knowledge allows everything else about this scene to make sense.
Then the disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” As soon as Simon Peter heard him say, “It is the Lord,” he wrapped his outer garment around him (for he had taken it off) and jumped into the water. The other disciples followed in the boat, towing the net full of fish, for they were not far from shore, about a hundred yards. When they landed, they saw a fire of burning coals there with fish on it, and some bread.
Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish you have just caught.” So Simon Peter climbed back into the boat and dragged the net ashore. It was full of large fish, 153, but even with so many the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” None of the disciples dared ask him, “Who are you?” They knew it was the Lord.
John 21: 7-12, NIV
This past weekend my high school theater department produced Joe’s one-act for the first time since my senior year. With a new cast, updated scenes, and a fresh approach for a modern audience, it was still Joe’s voice echoing on over the years and through the hallways, strong as ever. Gathered for the premiere of this newly updated version of the show were many members of the original cast and crew. As I stood looking around the room during that 25th anniversary performance and the memorial for Joe held beforehand, I knew I wasn’t the only one hearing Joe’s voice over these 25 years. In every beat of silence between lines, somewhere in the not-too-far distance, perhaps just offstage, in the wings, just out of sight, I could swear I heard echoes in the hallway of a familiar voice singing once again. I know others heard it too. None of us dared asked who it was. We all knew it was Joe.
J.M.D.
Joseph Patrick Hiney
May 12, 1968—June 2, 2000
Rest in Peace