 |
| "In those days before the flood, the people were enjoying banquets and parties and weddings right up to the time Noah entered his boat." - Matthew 24:38 (New Living Translation) illustration by Willy Stöwer (Wikipedia) |
One of the few books we had at our house growing up was one about the 1911 sinking of the Titanic. An an avid reader, I found myself both fascinated and horrified by the account.
A recent read of Geoff Tibball's The Titanic--The Extraordinary Story Of The Unsinkable Ship, brought back some of the angst I felt some 80 years ago, and this historic event has became a metaphor for me regarding the times we are living in.
Here's an excerpt from Tibball's opening chapter:
The Titanic was no ordinary ship--she was a floating hotel, even a small town at sea. At the time of her launch in Belfast in 1911, she was not only the biggest existing ship, but was also the largest movable object ever built. A glorious Edwardian extravagance designed to sweep side competition to the White Star on the Atlantic routes, she was the ultimate symbol of luxury and power. This opulence was reflected in the passenger list for her maiden voyage from Southanpton to New York. The cream of American society was on board, eager to be a part of a journey that would surely be talked about for years to come. Tragically, they were proven right.
Not unlike those ill-fated passengers, we have been lulled into believing that our nation is unsinkable, that we will always maintain our status as a major world power and be able to maintain the enviable level of wealth and wellbeing to which we've become accustomed. We seldom reflect on the day we may find ourselves having too few lifeboats to save us.
Meanwhile, like the Titanic, we have both the world's richest people and a large number of second class and steerage class on board, along with the working class poor all around the world who serve us. But in the end, all but a remnant share the same fate.
Wealthy Philadelphian Mrs. Charlotte Cardeza, with 14 trunks, four suitcases and three crates containing 70 dresses, 10 fur coats, 38 feather boas and 91 pairs of gloves, survived, but was unable to save any more of her possessions than the clothes on her back, just like the rest of the passengers in her lifeboat. The body of multimillionaire John Jacob Astor Astor, among the 328 dead that were recovered at sea, was recognizable only by the initials on the collar of his shirt, his gold watch, his gold cuff links with diamonds, a diamond ring with three stones, several thousand dollars in cash and a gold pencil. But none of these could save his life.
In the race between the White Star Line and the Cunard Line to build the biggest and the best of ocean liners, too little attention was given to all that could go wrong, and too much confidence was placed in the latest designs that were thought to make them invincible. The best quality of steel available at the time became more brittle in icy cold water, which combined with the speed the Titanic traveled, made it much for vulnerable than anyone believed.
An appropriate Biblical metaphor for survival would be the Ark, a slow-moving vessel designed for preserving human life and the wellbeing of all creation.
Here are some earlier reflections on how the world as we know it might end.
2 comments:
Yes! In early Christianity, an ark was drawn to symbolize Christ's saving--I seem to recall that it was drawn on catacomb walls. And the ark is the chief symbol of John Donne's poem, "A Hymne to Christ."
Yes, an apt symbol of the church, though as someone has quipped, "Better to tolerate the stench inside than the flood outside." And thanks for noting Donne's poem.
Post a Comment