Moving

Moving pictures. Moving things. Moving sounds.

You feel moved. And moved again. Removed, in fact.

And everything moves, and nothing is still. But you can command relativity. You can make it all revolve around you. To do that, though, you need an anchor.

If your anchor holds, everything will move relative to you. You will be still. It doesn't mean other people can't be still as well. All they need is an anchor like yours.

Will your anchor hold in the storms of life?

Anchorage

Today my father's sister's husband died. To me he was a shepherd, one of few, always a rock and a pillar around which I clung as a child when in need of consolation. For he always attempted to be cheerful, and yet he was always firm about what ought to be, and what ought not to be; to a child, these are powerful things. He too was a teacher, in many ways and to many people.

I am persuaded that he — like a great ship of war in times of war, a great ship of trade in times of peace — has come to anchor at last in a safe and secure harbour. It was a harbour he had always sought, like a pilot seeks the light of port, whether in tower or lighthouse or burning beacon of flame. In the epistle to the Hebrews it is said, "Wherein God, willing more abundantly to show unto the heirs of promise the immutability of his counsel, confirmed it by an oath; that by two immutable things, in which it was impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us: which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast — and which (the soul) enters into that (hope) within the veil."

I think of bagpipes and comfort, I think of the shepherd who enters into the shepherd's rest, I think of how good it was to see him last, and as a Christian, how good it will be to see him again. Goodbye uncle, not only adieu, but au revoir. For that is the hope in which we live.

The first hymn I thought of is the one I shall reproduce below, in memory of my uncle's life:

Will your anchor hold in the storms of life,
When the clouds unfold their wings of strife?
When the strong tides lift and the cables strain,
Will your anchor drift, or firm remain?

Refrain:
    We have an anchor that keeps the soul
    Steadfast and sure while the billows roll,
    Fastened to the Rock which cannot move,
    Grounded firm and deep in the Saviour’s love.

It is safely moored, ’twill the storm withstand,
For ’tis well secured by the Saviour’s hand;
And the cables, passed from His heart to mine,
Can defy that blast, thro’ strength divine.

Refrain

It will surely hold in the Straits of Fear—
When the breakers have told that the reef is near;
Though the tempest rave and the wild winds blow,
Not an angry wave shall our bark o’erflow.

Refrain

It will firmly hold in the Floods of Death—
When the waters cold chill our latest breath,
On the rising tide it can never fail,
While our hopes abide within the Veil.

Refrain

When our eyes behold through the gath’ring night
The city of gold, our harbour bright,
We shall anchor fast by the heav’nly shore,
With the storms all past forevermore.

Refrain

(Words by P J Owens, 1882)

Faith, Hope, Love & Anchors

I've always had this uneasy relationship with I Corinthians 13:13. It is of course that famous verse which says, "And now these three remain (or abide): faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."

Why 'uneasy'? What could be more beautiful than a line like this; what cause for uneasiness could there possibly be?

I guess that over the years, like many of the people of my generation, I developed a tolerant dislike of ranking. And yet here, in this verse buried in the words of Paul the apostle of Christ, is an obvious example of ranking. And ranking of virtues, no less! How could one possibly rank virtues? By what criteria? And to what end? I have not yet entered the familiar physical realm of uncertainties, errors, precision and accuracy. Indeed, we are still in the metaphysical realm.

Of course, the argument for 'the most excellent way' has just been made, in the verses preceding this. By this point, the reader has been invited to consider the consequences of doing things without love. But a cursory inspection of chapters 12 and 13 shows little to do with the consequences of doing things without faith or hope - thus leading one to consider the possibility of some sort of 'straw man' argument.

But the whole book of Romans deals with the issue of faith and faithlessness; faith is the beginning of the argument, the root of our belief in eternal things. And the consequence of faithlessness is ignorance, as Paul colourfully describes from chapter 1 of that epistle onwards; it manifests in eagerness to exchange the certain knowledge and glory of God for odd and inferior things. Indeed, Paul leaves no space for even philosophical doubt - rather, to him faithlessness is inexcusable. Belief in God is not a kind of knowledge gained by reason, but a self-evident reality that needs none. It is all very frustrating to the scientist, and meaningless folly to the likes of Bertrand Russell.

And worse to the logical positivists, faith is 'the surety of things hoped for; the certainty of things unseen'. It is all a vexation of spirit to the philosophers of the age.

What then of hope? Does the Bible ascribe greater horrors to hopelessness than to faithlessness? Oh yes, without hope we are the most pitiful of men, says Paul. Whether Paul wrote the epistle to the Hebrews or not is debateable, but that epistle shows hope as the anchor of the soul, without which we would surely drift and be lost in despair.

More scholarly people than I have searched and researched for the ultimate verity behind faith and hope. But I think that the reason why love surpasses them both (although all three abide) is that love is the one virtue that must continue to act. It cannot exist without acting. Faith will not listen to reason, and is shown as implicit in the things one does; hope is an enduring state of mind which seems optimistic and complicit with faith. Love, completely differently, requires that one does something for someone else, and is shown by its absence in the greatest deeds that one might otherwise do.

Perhaps, considering the metaphor of hope as an anchor that keeps the soul steady, faith must be the idea that something at the bottom of it all holds the anchor steady; love, however, must be shown in the things one does as if assuming the anchor will hold. Love is the capacity to take people on board, to give them one's full service and to do your best by them - without listening to the million niggling prejudices one inevitably has. Love is something we sometimes find greatest in paradox as well as in power - love defeats all things and yet is vulnerable to all; love is perfect in weakness and inflicts vulnerability upon the heart - but it gives invulnerability to the soul.

In the end, faith, hope and love; these three things abide. But the greatest of these is love.