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Text: John
8:31-36, Romans 3:19-28
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Reformation Mutiny on The Promise[This message continues the same metaphor introduced on May
2, 2005 (2nd Sunday after Pentecost) in a sermon titled Safe Passage and continued on July 3,
2005 (7th Sunday after Pentecost) in the sermon Smooth Sailing.] At last I had to push back from the table. I had just thoroughly enjoyed, as always, yet
another wonderful meal at our Captain’s table.
It was always the high point of the week, these Sunday gatherings in the
great cabin; and what I liked most, I mean even more than the excellent food,
fine wine, and outstanding fellowship was the fact that no matter where you sat
at his table, the Captain had a way of making you feel that you were his very
special guest and that everything had been prepared just for you. But now we had come to that time after the meal when we sat
savoring what was sort of the afterglow of the event … that time during which
we lingered over the last glass and we reflected thoughtfully on the stories of
past voyages and the wisdom the Captain shared with us while we were eating …
that same period of time we always sought to prolong as if to milk it for all
it was worth before returning to our regular routines. And as I sat there waxing philosophic, the
thought occurred to me what a privilege it was to be sailing aboard such a ship
as The Promise. No, it wasn’t the
fastest, the most modern, or the most luxurious vessel on the sea; but there
was something profoundly comfortable and reliable about the old ship. I mean, we had seen ships of all
descriptions, most were bigger and fancier than Promise; but they always
seemed to have fatal flaws in their design and their handling. The Promise, by contrast, seemed to be
a ship without flaw or problem of any kind.
No matter what kind of challenge it faced, no matter how severe a storm,
it was certain that the ship would come through. And as this thought struck me, I said aloud,
“It’s just not possible for anything to go seriously wrong aboard The
Promise, is it?” I was seated next to one of the ship’s Lieutenants who
regarded me with a look of amused astonishment.
“You obviously haven’t been spending any time studying the ship’s log,
have you?” he chided me. “What do you
mean?” I asked. He said, “What you just
said is only partly correct. The
Promise here? You’re right: she’ll never fail you.” And pointing to the Captain he said, “And
that fellow there? He’ll never fail you
either. But there are others aboard,
people like you and me whose job it is to run this ship under his orders, and
there’re the passengers, of course, as well; and sometimes people can get things all fouled up. Sometimes it’s because they’re just being
lazy or careless; other times, it’s because they’re looking out for themselves
more than they are the best interests of the ship. There are times too when people are wrong
headed, and they muck things up because they don’t know what they’re
doing. And there are times when
ambitious men do evil things because they think they’re more qualified to run
this ship than the Captain himself. But
tell me, did you never hear of the great mutiny aboard The Promise?” The very thought of it horrified me. “Mutiny?
On The Promise? You’ve got
to be kidding” I exclaimed. But he shook
his head, and I could tell that he spoke in all sincerity as he answered, “Aye,
it was a terrible time for the ship. To
be sure, there have been other mutinies before and after it; but none like that
big one so many years ago.” He looked over at the Captain who was listening to our
conversation with something of a pained expression on his face. Clearly this topic brought back unpleasant
memories for him. But the Captain nodded
for the Lieutenant to proceed, saying, “Go ahead. He should know. It’s a danger the ship always faces and
everyone aboard should be aware of it so that it doesn’t happen again”. Pausing for a moment to clear his throat,
this is the story the Lieutenant told: “It was many years ago, long before you or I were born, and
for a long time before that life aboard The
Promise was pretty much as we know it today. But slowly, over time, things began to
change. Oh, there were several factors
at work. The ship had been at sea for a
long time, making its regular runs to carry passengers across the great western
sea. And things were going well – almost
too well so that the crew began to relax their vigilance. They attended their duties and practiced
their drills, sure, but mechanically and with less attention to detail. They paid attention to what they were doing
without really thinking about why
they were doing it – which is an evil mix for a ship at sea. I suppose too that the passengers began
taking things for granted. The
privileges we cherish, say like coming here and dining with the Captain as we
are now, they began to take too lightly.
If they came or not, well, didn’t matter much to them. And it was in this climate that a disease
like a cancer began to grow aboard the ship. “What happened was that some of the officers began to
overreach their authority and exercise themselves rights and duties that belong
to the Captain alone. They also took for
themselves some of the responsibilities of the crew and passengers. It didn’t happen all at once, mind you; but
in small steps: a little here, a little
there. The sailors and passengers didn’t
seem to notice or mind much – things were still going pretty well and the more
the officers were doing the easier it was for them; but by degrees they were
being robbed. By appropriating the
duties they had, the officers created a gap between the Captain and everyone
else aboard; and as they continued on that same course, with each successive
voyage and change of officers, that gap grew wider. “Let me tell you how bad it got. It came to the point where the Captain was a
virtual prisoner in his private sleeping cabin.
No one aboard except the most senior officers was ever allowed to see or
talk to him directly. Everything anyone
heard from him came through the First Mate; and what the ship’s company was
being told was that the Captain was angry and that he was planning to punish
everyone aboard. There would be
floggings throughout the ship and brandings with hot irons. The worst offenders were to be keel hauled
across the barnacle-encrusted hull and then cast to the sharks. This, as you might expect, made everyone very
afraid. They were terrified of the
Captain, who, of course, they never saw or heard from directly. They walked about on tiptoe for fear of
arousing him from his cabin, and they begged the officers to tell them what
they had to do escape these horrible punishments the Captain was threatening to
bring. In this way they sold themselves
into slavery to the officers who came up with all kinds of answers that they
said came from the Captain and that would appease him. “And some of what they told people to do were ridiculous
things. They had them crawling about on
their knees and making useless trips up the mast and down into the deepest
parts of the hold. They told people to
write letters to former crewmembers who had made the passage long before and
who were now retired in the lands far to the west. ‘Write to them,’ they said, ‘because they
were special friends of the Captain, and maybe they can convince him to treat
you more kindly – oh, and it would help if you paid them a little something or
promised to do favors for them.’ Can you
believe it? They even directed these
poor terrified people to write their appeals to the Captain’s dear mother! And then there were the fines – always more
fines. If you heard what the officers
were telling people back then you’d have to conclude that the only thing the
Captain was interested in was how much gold and silver he could wring out of
you – but it seemed that no matter how much you paid, you were always deeper in
debt at the end of the day. “There were other deprivations as well. The food rations were cut down to the barest
subsistence levels. Instead of the rich,
nutritious meat and fresh-baked bread we enjoy every day, most folks were
served only a thin and watery gruel of dried peas with maybe a stale ship’s
biscuit; hard as rocks, they were, and full of weevils. And no one ever got even a drop of the
captain’s fine wine that we enjoy. No,
that was only for the officers – they kept it all to themselves. And the daily washing on the deck? They were suspended. If you wanted to take a bath or wash your
clothes, you had to pay extra for the privilege; and since most folks were
already deep in debt to the Captain, they couldn’t afford it and went about the
ship unwashed and wearing soiled clothes. “It was an awful time; and as you might have guessed, these
conditions took a frightful toll on the common sailors and passengers. There was hardly a soul aboard who wasn’t
suffering with scurvy, and in their weakened state many folks died at sea from
other diseases. They never made it to
the far shore. “Now, you might think that people would complain about all
this; and I suppose that they did – but
if they did, they kept it to themselves.
That’s how afraid of the Captain they were. And if anyone was heard complaining, they
were simply cast over the side into the sea—unless it was an officer. It happened a couple of times that a junior
officer posted a complaint. When that
happened, in order to make an example of him, they’d cover him with pitch and
tar, dangle him from the yardarm, and set him afire. “I should mention too that they made a lot of changes to the
ship itself. With pieces of flotsam and
jetsam they found drifting about on the surface – the castoffs and remains of
other vessels wrecked on reefs or that floundered in storms – they built up the
superstructure, adding decks and cabins (but only for the senior officers, of
course). And these they filled with fine
furniture and decorated lavishly with precious metals and gems. It made the Old Promise look very grand and impressive indeed. Unfortunately, it also altered the ship’s
trim and made her unstable – too much weight too high above the waterline, you
know. Meanwhile the hull, which was
being pushed deeper by all that extra weight on top, was being neglected. Barnacles grew thick and large, and long
seaweed growing on the waterlogged keel caused so much drag that it slowed the
ship’s progress to little more than a crawl even in the freshest wind. And all of this meant more leakage through
the increasingly rotten hull of the ship, which in turn meant that many hands
were required at all times deep down in the bilge to man the pumps just to keep
the ship afloat. “Still, despite all of this, let
this be clear: The Promise continued to make its voyages. It still carried passengers to the western
shore; but the voyages were difficult and slow, and life was misery aboard the
ship. Passengers and sailors continued
to sign on, many of whom were lured by the fine outward appearance of the ship;
but once at sea they were pressed into hard service. And of every hundred passengers who came on,
only a handful survived to see the destination.” Thus far I had sat listening to the
Lieutenant’s story in rapt attention. It
caused me to marvel that such things could take place on this ship that I loved
and thought I knew so well. I said, “This is all very hard to
imagine. It’s not that I doubt you; it’s
just that it’s so wrong. But, what
happened? You were going to tell me
about a mutiny.” The Lieutenant smiled. “I’ve already told you about the mutiny. It was what the senior officers did that
betrayed the Captain and The Promise. They were the criminals in this case – but I
hasten to add that they were helped in their evil work by the apathy and
negligence of the sailors and passengers who allowed them to get away with what
they did. They too betrayed the Captain
and this ship. “But what you want to know is
how the mutiny came to an end, and how The Promise was made fit and
seaworthy again. That too is a tale
worth telling. There was a young officer
who signed on – just a midshipman really; his name was Martin. He was diligent in his studies and paid close
attention to his duties hoping to become a real salt in his own right. But you see, he came aboard during the worst
of the conditions I described to you.
And you have to understand that he didn’t know that things were supposed
to be any different than he found them.
So when they told him that the Captain was angry and was going to punish
all hands, he believed it. He was afraid
of it. And so he worked all the harder
to prove himself worthy – but no matter how hard he worked, he was convinced
that the Captain would still find fault and have him tortured in the most
horrible ways. “This fear he had, however misplaced
and inappropriate, actually worked for his good. It drove him deeper into the study of
seamanship and navigation so that he could become a better officer. And because he was an officer, he had access
to the ship’s library. He studied there
often, and as he dug around in the long neglected records, he found a copy of
the Captain’s personal log from voyages long ago and drawings that showed the
original design of The Promise. He also discovered accounts of threats she’d
faced, battles she’d fought, and storms she’d weathered. It all made him realize that The Promise
was once a very different ship than the one he knew – a ship far more efficient
and well ordered. He realized that it
was being handled poorly and that many things needed to be done to straighten
her out again. But most of all, from
reading the Captain’s personal log, he discovered that everyone was being
misinformed about the true character and disposition of the Captain. The idea that he sat in his cabin darkly
brooding over the misdeeds of the ship’s company and coming up with devious
ways to make them pay for their crimes was totally wrong. The Captain, he found, was good, gracious,
generous, and forgiving to a fault. He
could never have ordered the kinds of things the officers said would avert his
wrath; in fact, from what Martin discovered, it was certain that such things
would be more likely to make him angry for they made him sound as if he were
some kind of psychotic tyrant. Martin
found that nothing could be further from the truth. “He knew at once that he had to share these discoveries with
everyone on board the ship, and in his youthful naiveté he naturally assumed that
everyone would be as happy about it as he was.
He posted his findings where everyone could see. And as it turns out, some people were
thrilled to know the truth; but even more folks, led by the senior officers,
wanted nothing to do with his insights.
The officers feared losing their exalted status and the others feared
stirring up the Captain; they simply couldn’t come to think of him in different
terms than they had been told for so long.
So they roundly condemned Midshipman Martin and threatened to burn him
along with anyone else who listened to him and believed what he did – and so
they would have, for at the time his followers were few in number, weak, and
disorganized.” “Then, what happened?” I asked. “The fact that we’re here today operating as
we are means that he must have escaped somehow – or that at least some those
who stood with him did.” The Lieutenant
answered, “It was nothing short divine intervention that spared Martin from
those who wanted to silence him. What
happened was that in the midst of the confusion, the ship, which had been
straying far from its normal course, struck upon a jagged reef that sheltered a
chain of islands. Passengers and crew
were thrown into the sea by the force of the impact. The mast broke and toppled forward. Water poured into the shattered hull as the
cruel rocks gouged and chewed the rotten planking. For a while it seemed that The Promise
might be a total loss. But to make a long story short – a long story that you
really should learn one day – what ultimately happened was that the survivors
of the wreck divided into three main parties.
They continued to argue and fight among themselves for some time; but in
the end, they each built their own version of The Promise and sailed it
away from those islands. All three of
them used some of the recovered material from the previous vessel – and so in a
sense, each can claim to have a piece of The Promise. One of these groups kept most of the added on
stuff that accumulated over the years on the superstructure. They call their ship The See of St. Peter,
and though they’ve cleaned up some of the worst problems, she still suffers
from the ailments that afflicted the first ship during the height of the
mutiny. Another one of these groups
decided to start all over again from scratch.
There’s very little that was recognizable in her from the first Promise. She was sleek and Spartan, really more of a
military vessel – and she became the prototype of other ships like Victory
that you may remember having encountered earlier in our present voyage. She was a ship of drill and discipline – and
very little comfort for those aboard. “And finally there’s this ship we’re on now. It’s the smallest of the three; but it’s the
one that retains most of what Promise was originally. The rotten planks were replaced with new, of
course, but they used the original plans and specifications when shaping
them. Most importantly the mast with its
single yardarm was repaired and erected aboard so that what powers this ship is
the same that has always kept the Promise going forward.” Through the skylight in the great cabin I could look up and
see the mast of which he was speaking.
From where I sat, the sun was directly behind the intersection of the
mast and yard, so I knew that it was casting its cross shaped shadow on
me. And I’m not sure why, but it was
then that I looked at the Captain, who was staring directly into my eyes and
nodding his approval – and I knew at once that I was exactly where I always
wanted to be. Soli Deo Gloria! |
