In the summer of 1965, Robert Manry crossed the Atlantic Ocean.

That would be no big deal, if his trip was by commercial jet or luxury cruise ship. But Manry went by boat. By tiny boat. Less than 14 feet long, to be exact. That's shorter than a Ford Explorer SUV.

Manry hopped aboard Tinkerbelle, a hand-built boat that many thought would never be able to make the journey, and sailed from Massachusetts to England, making the crossing in 78 days. At the time, this was the smallest boat ever to complete the trip successfully. The human spirit needs challenges, needs challenges to accept and risks to take, and making solo ocean crossings is clearly one of them.

Later, Maria Coffey and her husband Dag paddled their folding kayak around the Solomon Islands, along the Ganges, across Lake Malawi, and down the Danube, a story she tells in her book A Boat in Our Baggage: Around the World With a Kayak. They journeyed all around the earth in a collapsible, double kayak.

Would you really want to be traveling on the ocean in anything that was "collapsible"?

Stories of sea crossings have always been thrilling, going back to Homer's tales of epic, perilous voyages in the Iliad and the Odyssey. These poems describe events around 1200 BC, and involve fairly extensive sea voyages -- at least for that era.

But hold on one second: Aren't Homer's stories works of fiction?

Not necessarily. Researchers are now suggesting that these stories are anything but fantasy, having roots in the real lives of ancient mariners. The recent discovery of a 2,300-year-old shipwreck -- complete with wine jugs, boat pieces, and even dinnerware among the remains -- may prove to be the modern vindication of Homer's heroic tales. Apparently, these ancient seafaring peoples were anything but land-loving wimps. They were far more daring than originally thought.

Until recently, you see, the remains of most ancient ships have been found in shallow waters, leading many scholars to believe that the captains stayed in view of coastlines. But this particular shipwreck was discovered more than 200 miles off the Cyprus coast, and two miles below the surface. This deep-water discovery lends credence to Greek legends of fearless ocean odysseys. (Michael Theodoulou, "Shipwreck holds clues to lives of ancient mariners," The Christian Science Monitor, March 29, 2001)

Perhaps we should give some fresh respect to the trials of the prophet Jonah, who encountered such a mighty storm on his sea voyage to Tarshish that "the ship threatened to break up" (Jonah 1:4). And maybe we should read the Book of Acts in a new light, perceiving the true mortal danger that Paul faced when his ship was pounded by a storm so violent that the sailors had to throw the cargo overboard, and then the tackle, and then finally run the ship aground (Acts 27).

Sea crossings. They are anything but simple, safe and serene.

Imagine, then, what the Israelites were feeling when they stood at the shore of the Red Sea. They were feeling trapped, with the sea in front of them and the Egyptian army at their backs. The Israelites were like cats -- not a water-loving species -- and when they looked to the sea they saw nothing but the waters of chaos, the place where danger lurks, the source of great beasts.

"Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you have taken us away to die in the wilderness?" they cried to Moses, their voices dripping with sarcasm (Exodus 14:11). How they wished at that moment that they were like the neighboring Phoenicians, accomplished navigators and sailors who made voyages throughout the Mediterranean for the establishment of colonies and commerce. If only the Israelites could have picked up some tricks from these successful seafarers who voyaged across the Mediterranean, outside the Straits of Gibraltar, into the Atlantic, and down the coast of Africa.

But at that moment, at the edge of the Red Sea, the Israelites had nothing. No vessel, ship, boat, canoe or raft. Not even a collapsible, double kayak.

All they had was the power and presence of the one Lord God. And that, it turned out, was more than enough. Exodus tells us that "The Lord drove the sea back by a strong east wind all night, and turned the sea into dry land; and the waters were divided. The Israelites went into the sea on dry ground, the waters forming a wall for them on their right and on their left" (14:21-22).

That's a sea crossing strategy that no Phoenician would have dreamed of.

Then the Egyptians pursued the Israelites, going after them with horses, chariots, and chariot drivers. The Lord threw the Egyptian army into panic, clogged their chariot wheels, and then, as a final death blow, flooded the entire army of Pharaoh with the waters of the Red Sea. "Thus the Lord saved Israel that day from the Egyptians," concludes Exodus; "and Israel saw the Egyptians dead on the seashore" (v. 30).

We know the famous story of this crossing. And we give thanks that God worked so powerfully in this event to save the lives of his chosen people. But we also know that in our own lives, we can't always count on a miracle to come along and get us out of a jam. When we find ourselves with a sea in front of us and an army at our backs, there is no promise that the sea will open up for us, that dry ground will appear, and that our enemies and opponents and pains and problems will be swallowed up in defeat behind us.

More often than not, we have to get in a boat and start rowing.

At times like these, we can gain inspiration from the stories of people like Hannes Lindemann. In 1956, this man crossed the Atlantic Ocean, totally unassisted, in a double seater kayak. He had mail-ordered his boat to the Canary Islands, and set out for the Caribbean with 154 pounds of supplies and some handmade sails. Using both sail and paddle, and subsisting largely on raw fish and the enormous supply of evaporated milk and beer he had stowed in the craft, he arrived 72 days and 3,000 miles later on a beach in St. Martin. To date, his record remains unsurpassed.

But at the same time, we need to remember that not all sea crossings end so well. In 1968, Donald Crowhurst set sail from England in a trimaran to compete in an around-the-world race. Instead, as revealed by his diaries later, he embarked on a massive deception, sailing in circles around the southern Atlantic before announcing by radio he was on his way home, the apparent victor. His abandoned boat was later found sailing itself -- Crowhurst had written an agonized final entry in his log, and then jumped into the ocean, drowning himself.

We have to wonder: Will we end up like Lindemann, or Crowhurst? Victorious, or vanquished? When we face sea crossings in our personal lives, it is so important to put our trust in the same thing that the Israelites did: The power and presence of the one Lord God. We make a fatal error, you see, when we try to row across the sea ourselves, or put too much faith in our own cleverness and ingenuity. It's best to be honest about our human limitations, and to make a crossing in the style of Hannes Lindemann, who put up handmade sails to catch a power beyond himself, and who pulled raw fish like daily manna from the sea.

The promise of God to us is clear: "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you" (Isaiah 43:2). The Lord gives us the assurance that he will be with us in all of our perilous passages, working to protect us and guide us and preserve us. The love of God for us is undeniable, and Scripture promises us that many waters cannot quench this love, neither can floods drown it (Song of Solomon 8:7). There is nothing in all creation, nothing on land or sea or air, that can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:39).

So we, like the ancient Israelites, can count on God's power and God's presence and God's steadfast love when we face our own sea crossings. The Lord promises to bring us through the water -- through the water of chaos, and danger, and even great beasts -- and to see us safely to the other side. God promises to be with us when we face:

- The sea crossing of a new church program year, with Sunday School classes and choir practices, and our search for a new Director of Music. - The sea crossing of a fresh school year, with unfamiliar teachers, classmates, and subjects. - The sea crossing of a new job, with unexpected challenges and responsibilities. - The sea crossing of a lost relationship, with feelings of regret and uncertainty and self-doubt. - The sea crossing of international tension, and possible war with Iraq. - The sea crossing of a serious illness, with sadness and fear and exhaustion and pain. - The sea crossing of a death in the family, with shock and anger and confusion and grief. - The sea crossing of a new relationship, with feelings of excitement and hope and ever-present anxiety.

Through all these crossings, the Lord promises to be with us, giving us proper wind for our sails and nourishment for our spirits. All God asks is that we stay as close to him as he is to us, and that we trust him to be always at work for good in our lives. We should recall that in another famous sea crossing, Jesus and his disciples were in a boat being threatened by a terrible storm. Waves were swamping the boat and the disciples were panicking, and then Jesus woke up and said to the sea, "Peace! Be still!"

When the wind ceased, Jesus asked the disciples, "Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?" (Mark 4:35-41).

These are good questions for us, as we face our own sea crossings. Do we have faith that God will preserve us from destruction? Do we trust that the Lord will give us courage and victory in the middle of our struggles? Do we believe that God will see us through the storm, and deliver us safely to the other side?

The sea is large and our boat is small. But with God we never sail alone. Amen.

 

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