Psalms 104:26

There go the ships.

I was walking the other day by the side of the sea looking out upon the English Channel. It so happened that there was a bad wind for the vessels going down the Channel, and they were lying in great numbers between the shore and the Goodwins. I should think I counted more than a hundred, all waiting for a change of wind. On a sudden it came, and the vessels at once hoisted sail and went on their way. It was a sight worth travelling a hundred miles to gaze upon to see them all sail like a gallant squadron, and disappear southward on their voyages. “There go the ships,” was the exclamation that naturally rose to one’s lips. The psalmist thought it worth his while, though he had probably never seen such number of vessels as pass our coast, to make note of the fact the text declares, and we will learn now some of the lessons which the ships and the sea teach us. And, first, they teach that every part of the earth is made with some design. The land certainly is, but what about the broad acres of the sea? Assuredly it is not waste. “No,” says David, and so say we--“There go the ships.” Innumerable are the uses of the sea. It seems to be a grievous separation of lovers and friends, but it really unites them, for it is the highway of nations. But we would speak rather of the ships than of the sea. And

I. We see that the ships go.

1. They are made to go. So are Christians, but many of them don’t go; they have no activity in them. Now, I wish we could launch some of you. Brunel had less trouble in launching the “Great Eastern” than we have in trying to make you go. Would that you would “launch out into the deep.”

2. In going, the ships at last disappear from view. So shall we: our life is short.

3. They are going, mostly, upon business. Some few are for pleasure, but the most part have serious business in view. Have you? Have you any worthy object in life?

4. They sail upon a changeful sea. So do we. Terra firma is not in this world.

II. How go the ships? Well--

1. They must go according to the wind. We leave steamships out of the question. And if our port be heaven, there is no getting there except by the blessed Spirit’s blessing upon us.

2. But the mariner must nevertheless exert himself. The sails must be spread and managed so that the wind may be utilized. Hence the ships are no scene of idleness, but of great industry. Some Christians think they have nothing to do; “God will save His own people.” Yes, He will; but will He save them? His own people do not talk as they do.

3. The ships have to be guided and steered by the helm. Love is our helm: what we love, after that we go. Let love to God rule us, and let Christ have the tiller, and He will steer you to the haven of perfect peace.

4. Direction must be sought from charts and lights. So must we he guided by the chart of God’s Word and the light that Heaven has kindled. The voyage of a ship on the main ocean seems to me to be an admirable picture of the life of faith. The sailor does not see a road before him, or any land mark or sea mark, yet is sure of his course. He relies upon fixed lights in heaven, for far out he can see no beacon or light on the sea, and no keel ever leaves a furrow to mark the way. The late Captain Basil Hall tells the following interesting incident. He once sailed from San Bias, on the west coast of Mexico; and after a voyage of eight thousand miles, occupying eighty-nine days, he arrived off Rio de Janeiro, having in this interval passed through the Pacific Ocean, rounded Cape Horn, and crossed the South Atlantic, without making land or seeing a single sail except an American whaler. When within a week’s sail of Rio, he set seriously about determining by lunar observations the position of his ship, and then steered his course by those common principles of navigation which may be safely employed for short distances between one known station and another. Having arrived within what he considered from his computations fifteen or twenty miles of the coast, he hove to, at four o’clock in the morning, to await the break of day, and then bore up, proceeding cautiously, on account of a thick fog. As this cleared away, the crew had the satisfaction of seeing the great Sugar Loaf Rock, which stands on one side of the harbour’s mouth, so nearly right ahead, that they had not to alter their course above a point in order to hit the entrance of the port. This was the first land they had seen for nearly three months, after crossing so many seas, and being set backwards and forwards by innumerable currents and foul winds. The effect upon all on beard was electric, and, giving way to their admiration, the sailors greeted their commander with a hearty cheer. And what a cheer will we give when, after many years sailing by faith, we at last see the pearly gates straight ahead, and enter into the fair haven without needing to shift a point. Glory be to the Captain of our salvation, it will be all well with us when the fog of this life’s cares shall lift, and we shall see in the light of heaven. Then--

5. Ships will go well or ill, according to their build. With the same amount of wind, one makes more way than another. Now, there are some Church members who are so queerly shaped that somehow they never seem to cut the water, and even the Holy Spirit does not make much of them. They will get into harbour at last, but they will need a world of tugging. The snail got into the ark: I often wonder how he did it; and so there are many Christian people who will get to heaven, but Heaven alone knows how. I suspect that many of them have by degrees become like the “Great Eastern”--foul under water. They cannot go because they are covered with barnacles. They want laying up and cleaning a bit, so as to get some of the barnacles off. It is a rough process, but it has to be done. When I saw those ships go I happened to be near a station of Lloyd’s, and I noticed that they ran up flags as the vessels went by. I suppose they were asking questions, as to their names, cargo, destination, and so on. So, then--

III. Let us signal the ships. And--

1. Who is your owner? Some, in spite of all their profession, belong to Satan: their names are such as these: Self-Righteousness, Pride, from the port of Self-Conceit, Captain Ignorance. They belong not to Christ.

2. What is your cargo? Some high-sailing craft prove by that fact that they carry nothing. Big men, very important individuals, who float high, are common enough, but there is nothing in them. If there were they would sink deeper in the water. Some are in ballast; they have a deal of trouble, and they always tell you about it. Some carry a cargo of powder. You never know when an explosion may take place. But it is well to be loaded with good things. Some are emigrant ships. They have a cargo of blessed souls on board who have been brought to Christ by some faithful ministry. Thank God, I have sometimes had my decks crowded with passengers who have from my ministry received the Gospel.

3. Where go the ships? Some of you are bound for the port of peace, the Lord be praised. But alas! some ships which bid fair for heaven are lost on the rocks, or on the sands: others founder; others become derelict. Where will you all go? It is a fine fleet I am looking upon. I hope all will be found in the great harbour of heaven. Give me a hail when you get into port. But it is a dreadful supposition, and it may be worse than a supposition, that some of you will have to cast anchor for ever in the Dead Sea, whose waves are fire, and where every passenger feels a hell. Let it not be so; pull down the black flag, and run up the red flag of the Cross, and be Christ’s for evermore. (C. H. Spurgeon.)

Heavenward bound

What a noble thing is a ship! In bearing how majestic, in mechanism how wonderful! Have you ever thought as you have seen it lying quietly at its moorings, or sailing gallantly across the mighty deep, how much of art and science there were needed to produce such a complicated piece of mechanism? Have you ever thought how much of our Lord’s ministry was associated with the sea and with those who go down to the sea in ships? A few illiterate fishermen were the companions of our Lord’s ministry and the founders of that religion which has revolutionized the world.

1. Both in voyaging over the sea and on the ocean of life, how important it is to keep ever before our minds to what haven we are bound, to what port we are bearing on. It is this want of fixed and definite purpose and thought of the end that makes shipwreck of so many lives that would otherwise sail bravely and brightly over life’s ocean. What may be called our sailing or steering orders are plain, direct, explicit. “Strive to enter in,” the onward movement. “Set your affections on things that are above,” the upward or heavenward movement.

2. Not only must we know whither we are bound in the great voyage over the ocean of life, we must continue sailing, we must persevere in our work with our eyes steadily fixed on the pole star--fixed on “Hope’s beaming star.” If the sails are to be unfurled, we must be at our post, whatever betide; if the rigging has become tangled we must never think it too much trouble to go aloft and set it right. We must have the lamps trimmed, though the oil be difficult to get, and the lights burning, though the trimming may soil our fingers. We must constantly be advancing, sailing onwards over life’s ocean. For if we do not attend to this onward movement the tide will carry us back, and, it may be, dash both ourselves and our craft on the rocks of indolence.

3. We must not only know whither we are bound, we must not only keep in constant activity and show unflagging zeal, but we must make for the haven, Heaven is our haven. We are voyaging still. To that port and haven is our vessel bound. Oh! let our lives be conformable to the great, momentous, and immortal destiny before us. And, amid all the changes and chances of life, let us ever remember whose we are, and whom we serve. Once upon a time, there was a great storm at sea--the ocean was rolling mountains high, and the vessel was in imminent danger of shipwreck. The passengers were rushing wildly over the deck, or sitting clothed with despair in their cabins. Nothing but disorder and terror prevailed. Only one little boy was quiet and calm and unconcerned, and when an agitated and affrighted spectator asked how in such a storm he could be so calm, he quietly replied, “Father is at the helm.” This fact we have ever to bear us up. “Our Father is at the helm.” (J. B. S. Watson, M.A.)

“There go the ships”

That is not a bad text for a seamen’s society. “There go the ships.” Yes; that is quite true, but ships do not go of themselves. The ship implies its builder, its captain and a crew. Sailors, then, are necessarily connected in our minds with the ships.

1. Sailors have a claim upon our gratitude. What should we do without them? Think what our island would be if there were no ships, or if none were allowed to enter our ports. If we are to be thankful to any class of men--I believe in being thankful to all who do good work--we should specially be so to sailors, for among all those whose labour contributes to the wealth and prosperity of our country, there is no class more deserving our gratitude than seamen.

2. They also deserve our sympathy. The life of sailors is not a pleasant one. A ship is not a home, nor has it the comforts of home. And then there are the perils of the sea. The sailor’s life is a dangerous one, for he has a treacherous element to deal with. There are the winds and the waves to control if possible, or to battle with their rage. Danger may arise at any moment, and when he is least prepared for it. If there is any class of men who carry their lives in their hands it is the seamen. But the sailor is exposed to perils of a more serious kind. He has his own special forms of temptation. Not so much on the sea, but, shut up as he is in uncongenial society, he is the more prone to give way to those perils besetting his path when he lands. He finds himself in possession of means of indulgence, and solicitations to vice pressed upon him.

3. Sailors deserve our help. Sympathy is of no use, or very little, unless it takes a practical character. Pity itself is pitiful unless it extends the helping hand. If we feel grateful to the sailor, and sympathy for him, we must show it by trying to help the seaman to realize his position in God’s universe, to become a true and faithful man, and a true and living child of God. We ought to make his surroundings better than they have been. (J. D. Burns, D.D.)

Ships

What boy is not fond of hearing and reading about ships? I am not, however, going to talk about any wonderful discovery, but wish to compare my young friends to three different kinds of ships.

I. A man-of-war. This is for fighting purposes, and speaks both of the defensive and of the offensive, not the fighting some boys like to indulge in, either with tongues or fists; but I want every one of my readers to be fighting for the Lord Jesus. Many are unknowingly fighting against Him--they resist the strivings of the Spirit; they admire Him, and like to hear about His deeds, and to know of Him; but they do not know Him (John 17:3) or receive Him (John 1:12). Now, first you must be able to say, “The Lord is on my side,” etc. You will then need strength to stand your ground, and, though helpless of yourself (John 15:5), yet with Him, note your power (Philippians 4:13). A man-of-war ship must be properly armed: it is not built to play at soldiers, but to defend the country from invaders. Notice on chart, how it is armed, and for what purpose. Try to bring others into submission (read 2 Chronicles 30:8).

1. Submission.

2. Admission.

3. Commission.

II. Merchant ships. A merchant ship is used for bringing cargoes, etc., from one port to another, sometimes many miles. The cargo, however, has to be stored away in the hold. Show how, if we have God’s Word (which speaks of Life, Light, Pardon, Peace, and Power) stored into our hearts, at whatever port we may land in our life, we shall have blessings to leave. Sometimes we cannot ourselves go abroad, but, by the pennies we raise, we are enabled to send missionaries to take the Gospel to the heathen.

III. Passenger ships. The passenger ship would be for passengers. Let us remember what has been done for us: how it has been all of grace. The fare has been paid: so then let us seek to lead others to the Haven of Perfect Peace. Andrew brought Peter (John 1:42). Little is said about the former, but never mind though your name does not appear, if Christ be glorified. In Matthew 9:2, four brought the one to Christ. Be more occupied in the One to whom you bring the sinner than in the method adopted. (Newton Jones.)

The voyage of life

“There go the ships.” Each of them has got a name of its own. Each has a starting-place where it began its life; each an end to which it is going. It may be a tragedy. Each has a different register. It is not every one that is “A1 at Lloyd’s.” When a ship is first built, and has been surveyed, and certified to be equal to all the emergencies which a ship ought to be fitted for, it is registered as “A1” And when it has made some voyages it is inspected again; and next time it goes out it will have to be registered again. This time it may be “A2,” or lower still, and as the ship gets older she becomes of less value and a greater risk. That is so with a ship, but it need not be the case with men. There are men who began twenty years ago as “A1 at Lloyd’s,” and they stand the same to-day. Instead of falling, there is nothing to prevent us from rising in value as we get grey hairs. “There go the ships.” We see that all of them have a different tonnage. The one of two hundred cannot carry as much as the two thousand, but she can venture where the other dare not follow her. And there are different ways of usefulness that men can get out of littleness. A great preacher has a glorious history, but it takes a great deal to make him what he is, and it takes more to keep him right. The more water the ship draws the greater is the danger if she gets into shallow water. Some of us are little ones, and we shall never be anything else all our lives. But we can go where the big ones dare not. And if you subtract from the total work done for the Truth all the work that is done by small people you will sink the total very much. “There go the ships.” Every one has got a cargo. They all carry something: some of them carry precious freight; some of them carry that which enriches the world. Look at that ship going with a cargo of cotton. It means work for nimble fingers and bread for hungry children. And after it has been spun, woven, and worn, it will make rags that will be used for paper that will make Bibles and books. She carries something valuable, does that ship. What cargo are you carrying then? Are you a ship in ballast? A ship must carry something. She must be a certain weight or they cannot sail or steer her. And if they cannot get a cargo they fill up with stones and clay. And up in Sunderland yonder, there is many a hill made of ballast brought by ships that have taken out cargoes of coal, and had nothing else to bring back. And it costs just as much to sail her with ballast as with a cargo. It costs God Almighty just as much to keep a useless man as to keep a useful one. Have you been carrying ballast? There is no need. You may be filled with a cargo, if you will come alongside this wharf--a cargo that shall bring pleasure and blessing wherever you go. Where go the ships? To fortune or to failure; to harbour or to ruin? Ah! you need not go many miles to find these wrecks of manhood. You can remember some; I can remember others. Some ships have foundered because they have set out before they were ready for a voyage. We need all of us to remember, “Lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil.” But there are some vessels lost by striking hidden rocks, and others by striking rocks that may easily be seen. How many have gone down and become wrecks through the rock we call Drink! And what numbers are ruined by gambling! Wrecks! How are we to be delivered from such things? There are other things we might have said about these wrecks, but how are we to be delivered from them? First, we must take care who the skipper is. Make sure that you get hold of Captain Credence. If you want to see what voyages he has made look in the Epistle to the Hebrews; and there you will read: “By faith. .. By faith. .. By faith. .. ” Captain Credence will take charge of you, and always bring his own hands aboard, and he will place them in every part of the ship. At the helm stands Obedience, an able-bodied seaman is he. He takes his orders here. You want to have Obedience, who always works by the words of the Chart. And then, like Joseph, when tempted, you will hear him say, “I cannot. Helm hard-a-port! Do you think I am going to the other side?” Captain Credence always brings with him Conscience, and puts him as the look-out. He has keen sight; he needs no spectacles. He can see the land before any one else sees it; he can see the sand-banks before anybody else sees them, and the rocks. If you only put Captain Credence aboard, he will bring all the hands with him who have sworn obedience to Jesus. Some day, if only you hold on by Christ, your ship will reach the good land. If is a land within reach of every one of us, a land that is fairer than day. (T. Champness.)