Just as happened in 1912, the year of the Titanic, we know the numbers. There were 276 on board when the ship broke up. We are told of the desperate measures the crew took. Stormy weather hampered their efforts. They had no sight of sun or stars. For 14 days they had eaten nothing. They had taken soundings and feared that the ship would come to grief on a rocky coast. They rigged up a sea-anchor. They threw overboard the ship’s gear. They let go four anchors from the stern. Before the end came, they jettisoned their cargo of grain. All this was to no avail. It looked as though the Adriatic was to claim more victims. Miraculously they made it ashore without loss of life. Paul was one of the passengers; he was on his way to Rome.
We in the UK have been brought up with tales of the sea: Captain Cook, the Cutty Sark. Hornblower, Rockall and Fastnet are names to conjure with. Tales of sloops and ketches have absorbed us all. There is also a subset of Arthur Ransome’s bracing yarns culminating in ‘We didn’t mean to go to Sea.’ We should hardly be what we are without a streak of nautical vocabulary even if we have done no more than sun ourselves on the shingle.
But this account is one-off. It takes up a whole chapter of the New Testament book we call Acts. The writer is unsparing in his nautical details. He makes no concessions to those of his readers who may well be no more than landlubbers. Why, we may ask, is there this attention to nautical detail?
We have to remember that the early Christian believers had an awareness of the sea just as we do in our offshore European islands. The Mediterranean was there on the edge of their life all the time. Ships full of grain from north Africa kept European tribes nourished. It has to be said that Luke is not writing a short story with a beginning, an end and a middle. He is compiling a memoir. Though he writes elegantly, he is gripped by the need to transmit a compelling message. He tells it as he finds it. It is a message that willy-nilly gets involved in the chores and chances of our human lives.
ST PETER’S BARGE
Moored by West India Quay is St Peter’s Barge. This is a floating church in the City of London that sets out to bring Christianity into the centre of things. Led by senior pastor Marcus Nodder, it is a network of Christians who work in the City. Groups from the floating congregation make a deliberate systematic attempt to strike up conversations with those in the vicinity; other activities include a virtual bookstall. Marcus spent time on the water in an eight when he was at Cambridge. He had a spell as a banker and lives on the Isle of Dogs with his wife and four children. Look up St Peter’s Barge on the internet. There are plenty of pictures of the floating church.
ST MICHAEL PATERNOSTER ROYAL
St Michael Paternoster Royal in the City of London is renowned for its connection with Dick Whittington, who is buried there (perhaps along with his cat). It is also the headquarters of the Mission to Seafarers which provides welfare and support services for ships’crews. With chaplains in ports around the world the society has the support of individuals and big companies involved in shipping etc. Now available from the society is ‘Around these islands in 12 Ports’, a celebration of our maritime heritage.
SOLE BAY
They couldn’t resist it. The Sole Bay team of parishes on the coast of Suffolk call their free parish magazine ‘Heart and Sole’.
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