The Sabbath at Sea
Psalm xxvi. 8. Lord, I have loved the habitation of thy house, and the place where thine honor dwelleth.
There is a moral sublimity in a Sabbath at sea. The landsman conjectures it, paints it; while the devout seaman feels it; there are aspirations here felt, felt nowhere else.
Yet what is it that gives such sublimity to a Sabbath at sea? It is not the mart of business which we here enter. Nor are they the portals of science and literature. Nor is it the splendid and lofty cathedral; — no, nor yet the more simple and humble sanctuary, where far-distant friends “worship, and bow down, and kneel before the Lord, their Maker.”
“Great objects consecrate all that is around them.” This vast ocean, this emblem of infinity, itself gives sublimity to the scene. Infinite greatness and infinite littleness here meet. God, the Eternal, here condescends and bows to meet man, his creature, just as the vast heavens bow and meet the waters in the distant horizon. Great and solemn associations are sublime, and ought to inspire great and solemn thoughts.
We worship him who is the God of all the earth, and of them that are afar off upon the sea. How shall we worship him? “God is a Spirit, and they that worship him, must worship him in spirit and in truth.” May creatures of yesterday, and sinners as we are, hope to worship him acceptably?
It is no splendid and no costly sacrifice that he requires of us. “He giveth grace to the humble.” “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.” No matter where, nor by whom, such worship is oflfered; no matter with what grateful, cheered, and gladsome thoughts it may be inmingled; through that great atoning, interceding Saviour, it goes up perfumed with incense, before the throne of God. The High and Lofty One who inhabiteth eternity, deigns to look upon us. He who loveth the gates of Zion, does not turn away from the tents of Jacob; and though it be on the placid, or billowy ocean, “where two, or three, are met together in his name, there is he in the midst of them.”
“Far from home, and far from land,” as we are, which of our bosoms does not respond to the sentiment of the devout Psalmist, when he says, “I have loved the habitation of thy house, and the place where thine honor dwelleth!”
Save the “works of necessity and mercy,” the Sabbath at sea, like the Sabbath on shore, is, by divine appointment, a day of rest. The Great Lord of heaven and earth, of land and ocean, has given to the inhabitants of the globe on which we dwell, one day’s respite out of seven from the ordinary occupations of human life. The Sabbath was benevolently designed to bring this stated relief from anxiety and toil. To a seaman, whose body and mind are in such a state of perpetual excitement — to this little laborious, working community — such a rest is like the soft slumbers of midnight when, in defiance of the noisy tempest, it covers with its gentle folds an agitated and trembling mind, and a bodyoverpowered with toil. The Sabbath is the seaman’s friend. Who can doubt, that one motive which influenced its Author to institute it, was compassion to the weary and weather-beaten mariner? Never does the bright sun dawn more beautifully, than when he sheds his rays upon a Sabbath at sea.
No, it is not in the sanctuary of our fathers that we meet to-day; but it is to worship our fathers’ God. When the Patriarch Jacob was fleeing from the face of Esau, and was on his way to Padan-aram, he tarried all night at a place where the God of his fathers, Abraham and Isaac, condescended to commune with him as his creature and child. And he said, ‘’ Surely the Lord is in this place, and I knew it not. How dreadful is this place! This is none other but the house of God, and the gate of heaven.” He that was with Jacob in the desert is with us on the sea. Verily, “it is good to be here.” It is good to see his power and glory as they overlay this world of waters, to hear his voice as it whispers in the gentle wind, or speaks from the dashing billows. It is good to mark his presence, as” the overflowing of the water passes by, and the deep utters his voice, and lifts up his hands on high.’’
Heathen deities are honored in their places of worship. Near their temples are the groves sacred to their foul idolatries, and consecrated to their images of gold, silver, brass, stone, and wood. This idol worship extended itself to the great sanctuary of the sea, and seamen worshipped gods which their own hands had made. We are not Pagans, but Christians, and worship the only living and true God. Why should not we pay our homage to Him, as well as they their insensible homage to their more insensate idols? It is a privilege in which he has made us to differ from them, that we know him, and Jesus Christ, whom he has sent; and well may we feel it a privilege to express our adoring and grateful thoughts of him, acknowledge his claims, make confession of our sins, implore his mercy, and utter the memory and the praise of his great goodness. It were truly a beautiful sight to see a ship’s company thus devoutly honoring the God of heaven. It is an affecting thought to think of, and dwell upon, — that the Great God, before whom angels bow and devils tremble; the King eternal, immortal, and invisible, condescends to accept this homage from creatures who have so offended him, and who flock here around his footstool! There is a holy and heavenly delight in such a privilege as this. There are new and happy emotions within us in the enjoyment of such seasons, and there are outflowings of those emotions towards God and man.
The moral and spiritual influence of the Sabbath at sea is such, that every thoughtful mind will value it. It assembles those who are remote from better opportunities, to listen to the instructions of God’s word; instructions that are alike suited to the wise and the unwise, to the prince and the sailor-boy. Many a ship that sails the ocean has been the chosen theatre of marvellous displays of his grace. The hearts of seamen are in his hands, as well as the hearts of landsmen. It is written in his word, that “the multitudes of the sea shall be converted unto him.” Here, as well as elsewhere, he makes men wise to salvation. He opens the eyes of the blind, and makes them see; he opens the ears of the deaf, and makes them hear; he awakens the fears of the stupid, and makes them afraid; he softens the hearts of the stubborn and obdurate, and makes them feel. Many a Sabbath at sea has carried light and conviction to the consciences of the bold and stout-hearted, thrown them into the gall of bitterness, and made them feel the bonds of their iniquity. And here, he who thus wounds, also heals; he who kills, also makes alive. The Reprover becomes the Comforter; those who are thus cast down are led by him to trust in his grace. We have strong hopes of the conversion and salvation of seamen. The vilest among them is not so corrupt and degenerate, as to be beyond the hope of repentance and recovery. “Whosoever will, may take of the waters of life freely.”
To those whom we have left behind us, the house of God is a refuge in the time of trouble. It is a sacred asylum; a place of protection; a shelter from the storm and a covert from the tempest. Seamen are sufferers as well as other men. They are used to suffering; and though it be uncomplaining suffering before men, many a tear trickles down the cheek of the hardy mariner when he is alone, and no eye sees him but God’s. A Sabbath at sea is a delightful relief to the sailor, who is the child of misfortune and of sorrow. Trouble sometimes rushes in upon him like mighty waters; it drives him from his much-loved home, and his native shores, to seek a refuge amid the solitude of the wide ocean. He may have been the thoughtless and guilty cause of his own sufferings. And how well timed the relief, to find amid the quietude and subduing privileges of a Sabbath at sea, a little Bethel, where, with one of old he may say,” Why art thou cast down,
O my soul, and why art thou disquieted within me? Hope thou in God; for I shall yet praise him who is the health of my countenance, and my God!”
The seaman often has a heavy and a broken heart, because lover and friend are put from him, and his acquaintance into darkness. He may be friendless and poor; or sickness may debilitate, and pain agonize him, and he may look towards the dark ocean as his grave. How sweet and soothing are the influences of this day of heavenly peace and mercy to such a man! and how, when such, or other adverse providences overshadow him, is he counselled to bear in mind that “These light afflictions are but for a moment,” and that if rightly and religiously improved, they “work out for him afar more exceeding and eternal weight of glory!” It is well, when we suffer, that we should feel that the hand of God is upon us, and that he is angry with us for our sins; but it is also well that we should feel that he is a “refuge for us, and a very present help in trouble.” And this is one of the chief lessons of the Sabbath, whether at sea, or on shore. It is a sign of peace, an emblem of God’s mercy to the suflTering and lost, a standing sign and proof, returning once in every seven days, of the finished work of that Great Redeemer, who is the helper of the helpless, and who says, with such unutterable tenderness, “Come unto me, all ye who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” The cup of adversity goes round, and no class of men are exempt from tasting it. Some drink deeper of it than others; days of sighing and grief, and wearisome nights are appointed to them. And when God thus smites us, it is vain to boast that we care not for it. There is no reason, no religion, no courage in this. But there is courage, there is religion, there is reason, in looking to God, in trusting in God when he smites us. “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him!” We cannot hope too much from God. At what time I am “afraid, I will trust in thee!” O what a sweet and holy serenity often comes over the mind, as it is agitated with apprehension, and as it looks out on the blackened skies, and knows not how soon the storm will burst, or where the bolt will fall! The Sabbath at sea invites us to this repose. “Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord is thy keeper, the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand. The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil; he shall preserve thy soul. The Lord shall preserve thy going out, and thy coming in, from this time forth and for evermore.”
There is still another claim which the Sabbath has upon seamen. They, like other men, are bound to live to some good purpose in the world. “None of us,” saith the apostle, “liveth to himself.” Wherever they go, whatever seas they traverse, whatever islands they touch at, and to whatever ports they are bound in Heathen, Mahomedan, or Christian lands, it should be their great object so to conduct themselves, that their influence shall be for good, and not for evil. Alas! how much evil have seamen done in our world! “The harp, and the viol, the tabret and the pipe, and the wine have been in their feasts,” and they have “regarded not the works of the Lord, nor considered the operations of his hands.” That great and dreadful name, the Lord their God, they have treated with impious irreverence; and with solemn oaths and blasphemy, they ‘* have set their mouth against the heavens, and their tongue has walked through the earth.” Not a few of them have been examples of fiUal impiety and social insubordination; and had they been unrestrained, would have left no law unreversed, and no scene of confusion unrealized. Unreasonable anger, and furious and revengeful passions, have often led them to deeds of violence which have made them the dread of their fellow-men. Even now, after all the reform among seamen, if a ship-master is looking for men, he is sure to find them in the haunts of hcentiousness. Plunder nd depredation also, too often mark the course of the mariner at sea, and in foreign lands; while “their mouth speaketh vanity, and their right hand is a hand of falsehood.” Now, this is a dreadful influence to sail over and send round this degenerate world. Charity weeps over it, religion and civilization weep over it. And it must be changed, ere seamen live to the great purposes of their accountable and immortal existence. They little think how much they live for the weal, or woe of their fellow-men, and to what extent they hold in their hands the destiny of thousands. Every ship should bear a healthful moral influence to every land, and every seaman should be a light shining in a dark place. And what is so fitted to create and preserve such an influence as the Sabbath at sea? But for the narrow and short-sighted, as well as wicked policy of ship-owners and ship-masters, which has so profaned this day as to make it a day of needless, and sometimes augmented labor; and where not of labor, a day of mirth and glee; seamen mioht have been amoncp the moral and more useful class of men. There is no speech nor language where their influence would not have been welcome, and where it would not have been felt and gratefully acknowledged. Nothing but the Sabbath, the Sabbath at sea, can make seamen the ornament and honor of their race. Nothins; else can save them from beinij corrupt, and the coriTipters of their fellow-men, and make them blessings and blessed. Not until the Sabbath brings them under the control of new principles and a new power, will they become the living exemplifications of God’s truth and love, the guardians of his holiness and the friends of their race.
“Lord, I have loved the habitation of thy house, the place where thine honor dwelleth.” Let us love it, and not the less because we find it here on the broad ocean. It is no splendid altar which we are able here to build, and no costly offering. But let it be the offering of grateful and contrite hearts, and it will not be despised. May the sacred fire burn upon it long and steadily; and may He who holds the winds in his fists, and the waters in the hollow of his hand, accept our sacrifices and give us his peace!
We are fellow-voyagers over the sea of life, and to the same eternal home. Let not the God of the Sabbath be dishonored here, nor his Sabbaths themselves testify against us! If we hope for God’s blessing, let us keep the day holy to the end of it. Let us prize these seasons of worship, and fervently pray that they may fit us for that world where there is no temple, and where there is no more sea! Wherever we go, let us make it appear that the Sabbath is “our delight, holy of the Lord, honorable;” and by our exemplary observance of it, and cheerful pei’formance of its duties, enjoy its blessings ourselves, and extend them to our fellow-men.
The Sabbath! how rich in mercy is the very name of this heaven-born day! What unequalled blessings follow in in its train! How noiseless its tread upon the retiring footsteps of the busy week! How welcome the indications of its return, hushing the din of this world’s strife and toil; and as the setting sun goes down, whispers in the ear of unthinking man that the appointed day of rest approaches! How seasonable its intimations that it is befitting him to dismiss his cares, and prepare himself for an interview with his Maker! And when the sound of the midnight bell falls on a slumbering world, and the watchman’s cry tells the departed hour, it seems as it were the response of Heaven’s glad tidings, the song of the heavenly Watchers’ repeated, “Glory to God in the highest; on earth peace, and good will to men.” And as the Sabbath’s dawn advances, how many delightful, thrilling reminiscences crowd upon the soul! A voice from Sinai seems to say to us. This is the day of God; remember it, and keep it holy. Bethlehem’s shepherds tell of a Saviour born; Calvary announces a Saviour crucified; the empty sepulchre of Joseph proclaims a Saviour risen from the dead. “The Lord is risen indeed,” and comes to-day to dwell with men on the earth. And then, how many doff the armor of the world, and put on the panoply of heaven. If you listen, you seem to hear the supplications of ten thousand closets. And if you cast your eyes over the habitations of men, you will see that on every dwelling-place of Mount Zion “the Lord creates a fire and smoke.” And if you take a wider survey still, what do you behold but temples scattered over hill-top and vale, and the incense of prayer and praise, ascending as a sweet-smelling savor from earth to heaven? O when shall the ocean prize this best of all the days of time! and when, from its wild waters, shall the sons of the ocean waft their praise on the breeze that fans the remotest shore! Why shall not seamen enjoy the blessing in common with those who dwell on the land? Why shall not every sailor’s heart be an altar; every cabin, every steerage, and every forecastle a closet; every ship a floating chapel; and the Bethel Flag become the universal signal that the God of heaven has a dwelling among those who go down to the sea in ships, to do business in the great waters!