FOR THOSE IN PERIL ON THE SEA

A REFLECTION FOR SEXAGESIMA

This week’s hymn, Eternal Father, Strong to Save was written by William Whiting in 1860 inspired by the dangers of the sea described in Psalm 106. This hymn is commonly associated with seafarers, particularly in the naval armed services, and is often referred to as the "Navy Hymn." This hymn also has a long tradition in civilian maritime settings and is regularly called upon by ship's chaplains and sung during services on ocean travels.  So what has that to do with Sexagesima Sunday?

Our Matins readings in the Divine Office are the story of Noah and his Ark.  It is a story well suited to the theme of Shrovetide – last week, we followed the account of the Creation and the Fall of Man, lamenting over the first sin of Adam and Eve and the need for our blessed Lord to be born and to die.  Now, we see the state of man after his expulsion from Eden, how he degenerated to such a state that God decided to destroy him altogether from the face of the earth.  However, he would not wipe out the entire human race—Noah and his family were not like the others, and were given instructions to build a huge wooden ship that would be their Ark of Salvation.

The symbolism of this is clear, and it is not for nothing that the title Ark of Salvation is given to the Blessed Mother, who would crush the head of Satan beneath her heels, as God prophesied to Adam.  Only those who found their way to this Ark would be saved, and I like to think that this is the real reason ships today are referred to with the feminine pronoun “she.”  In any case, Noah’s Ark is an obvious foreshadowing also of Holy Mother Church, outside which, let’s remember, there is no salvation.

We are either on the Ark or we’re drowning in the waters of the Great Flood.  It matters little whether we’re passengers or crew, so long as we’re on the Ark, members of Christ’s Mystical Body, the Church.  Because trust me, it has started to rain in torrents and shows no signs of letting up.  And while we might be relatively safe on board, these are still not safe waters on which we sail.  The waves rise high these days, and threaten to sweep us overboard.  We even have stowaways on board—lukewarm and even fallen-away Catholics—who work from within to drill holes in the fabric of the ship, modernists who open the doors and windows to let in the stormy world around us, truly a mutinous lot.  Don’t forget – the leader of the mutineers on the Bounty was called Mr. Christian.  We must be on our guard.

It rained for forty days and forty nights, and it is no coincidence that this is the number of days in Lent, days of repentance, days of fasting and penance.  Year after year, we have this great opportunity to give back to God some small return for all the good things he has given to us.  We sail in troubled waters, and we priests, your crew, are asking all the passengers for help keeping the ship afloat.  Do your part, contribute to the Church, financially yes, but also with your various talents, and most of all with your prayers, that we may all safely come to the haven where we would be.