O ALMIGHTY God, whose way is in the sea and whose paths
are in the great waters; Be present, we beseech thee, with our
brethren in the manifold dangers of the deep; protect them from all
perils, prosper them in their course, and bring them in safety to
the haven where they would be, with a grateful sense of thy
mercies; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
The Book of Common Prayer in the Church of ireland
(1926)
THE sea and those who travel on it are always important to
islanders, and Great Britain and Ireland are no exceptions. From
Drake's circumnavigation of the globe and the Battle of Trafalgar,
to the culinary staple of fish and chips, the sea has always played
a central part in our history. So it is only right that we should
remember seafarers in our prayers.
Maritime disasters and sudden bereavement at sea remind us of
the dangers. The New Testament stories of the disciples caught in a
storm on the Sea of Galilee, and St Paul's being wrecked on the
coast of Malta reveal that the earliest Christians, too, were aware
of the risks of travelling by water.
As we pray for those who venture on the water, however, we may
well pause to reflect on how the imagery of the sea is appropriate
for us all. All of us are travelling on a voyage through life. We
will sometimes be buffeted by events as if by stormy winds, and at
other times seem to be making no progress, as if becalmed.
As Christians, we are travelling through life to God, to that
heavenly Jerusalem which is our destination, and we could well
appropriate this prayer for ourselves, and pray that God will
prosper us in our course and bring us in safety to the haven where
we would be.
Sometimes, the maritime imagery may come unexpectedly close.
Once, I attended the Orthodox celebration of Epiphany in Sibiu,
Romania. A ten-foot-high stage had been erected in the main square
for the Blessing of the Waters. On to it climbed the Metropolitan
and other clergy, a choir, and various local worthies, such as the
chief of police.
About 100 of us were on the stage. Unfortunately, the edifice
had not been put up properly, and it began to sway ominously. Below
the stage, photographers prepared enthusiastically to capture on
film the moment when the whole contraption would collapse.
It was my first time on this stage in Sibiu, but it was obvious
from the anxious faces of the local clergy that something was
seriously wrong. We rocked to and fro, as if at sea in a storm. The
water awaiting blessing in a grand receptacle splashed out, as if
being agitated by an invisible spoon.
Meanwhile, the Metropolitan conducted the full ceremony of
blessing, as we struggled to retain our footing and not succumb to
seasickness in the middle of a city square. But the stage did not
collapse, and we all descended gratefully at the end of the
service. We had been reminded that the metaphor of life as a voyage
could suddenly take literal form.
As we chart our course through life, we will certainly encounter
manifold dangers. May we clasp this prayer to our hearts, with its
memorable depiction of God's almighty presence in a dangerous
world. Like a life jacket, this prayer will give us confidence and
spiritual help at those times when the waters seem poised to
overwhelm us.
The Revd Patrick Irwin was until recently Anglican Chaplain
in Bucharest and Sofia.