I was first introduced to sailing about 40 years ago when some friends took me out on warm summer days on twin-hulled catamarans in Long Beach Harbor in beautiful Southern California. I remember slicing through the bay with the sleek, black Queen Mary ocean liner to one side, and the glassy Long Beach skyline on the other.
I didn’t know how to sail at the time, but I remember a feeling of exhilaration when, on a fast tack, one hull of the boat would start to lift out of the water due to the driving force of the wind. When that happened, the sailors would stretch out above the rising hull to try to balance the weight and prevent the cat from capsizing. As a fallen-away Catholic, it would take several decades from my introduction to sailing before I would let Jesus into my heart for the first time and allow him to captain my ship.
My
real schooling in sailing came a few years later when I received an invitation
to spend a week’s summer holiday on a sailing yacht in New Zealand. I flew to Aukland on New Zealand’s North
Island, met up with some kiwi friends, and headed for an adventure in the Bay
of Islands.
New
Zealand’s Bay of Islands is located on the northern tip of their North Island,
where the Tasman sea and great South Pacific merge. It is made up of more than 140 islands and
aquamarine-colored bays with an abundance of peninsulas and inlets. The subtropical islands are grass and forest
covered, and sheep abound. We lived on
the boat for a week, with a nearby farmhouse acting as home base. The boat’s bilge was stocked with rum, we ate
fresh food every day from the farm, and sailed and swam and hiked to our
heart’s content. It was a sailor’s
paradise.
As far as we know, Jesus wasn’t a sailor. He did travel on boats in the Sea of Galilee with the Apostles, several of whom would have been experienced sailors since they were fishermen. “One day he got into a boat with his disciples and said to them, “Let us cross to the other side of the lake.” So they set sail.” (Lk 8:22)
His disciples, however, hadn’t learned to trust in the Lord. “He got into a boat and his disciples followed him. Suddenly a violent storm came up on the sea, so that the boat was being swamped by waves; but he was asleep. They came and woke him, saying, “Lord, save us! We are perishing!” He said to them, “Why are you terrified, O you of little faith?” Then he got up, rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was great calm. The men were amazed and said, “What sort of man is this, whom even the winds and the sea obey?” (Mt 8:23-27)
I
imagine being in the boat with Jesus and the Apostles. Jesus is asleep while the storm is
raging. The disciples are afraid and
want to wake him. I think to myself,
“no, we must trust in him.” The Church
is like that boat; it is our vessel and inside is the real presence of Christ
in the Eucharist. When the storms of
life hit, we can take refuge in the Church and in Jesus, just like the
disciples should have done during the storm.
There is no need to fear because He is with us.
I once sailed with someone who had a deathly fear of boats and of being out on a boat in deep water. Sailors need to know how to be safe on the water and what to do in case of an emergency; they need to know the mechanics of sailing and of sail boats — how to sail upwind or downwind, for example. They also need to know how wind moves a boat, especially when sailing upwind.
Sailing on a zigzag course into the wind is called “tacking”, and it is on a good tack with a swift head wind that sailboats move fast through the water. I always liked to find that sweet spot on a strong tack, with the boat leaning or “heeling over” due to the force of the wind, when the boat can attain a high velocity. Unfortunately, this sometimes caused a good dousing of anyone caught on the lee side – the lower side of the boat closest to the water during a heel — as waves would often careen over that side of the hull.
The
interesting thing about sailing upwind is that the force of the wind is
actually pulling and not pushing the vessel through the water. That’s because, when a sail is full of air it
is curved like an airplane wing, and wind flowing over a curved sail causes the
same lift that allows airplanes to fly.
Air moves faster over the curved part of the sail, causing lift, and causing
the boat to be pulled through the water.
Sailing upwind is a lot like living a Christian life. That life starts with Baptism by water and the Holy Spirit. As a Catholic Christian living the Christian life, one must have faith (i.e., believe) and cooperate with God’s plan; this includes partaking often in the sacraments of the Church, especially Reconciliation and Holy Eucharist. Just like when sailing upwind the wind pulls the boat along and doesn’t push it, in the Christian life it works better to relax and let Jesus and the Holy Spirit lift us up and help us through the ebb and flow of life. God never pushes or forces his way in.
C.S.
Lewis, in his classic book Mere Christianity, calls this living the
“Christ Life”. It is cooperating with Jesus,
with his wind in our sails on the road to discipleship, as he transforms us
from within. When we cooperate with
God’s grace by inviting him into our hearts, God helps us become better
versions of ourselves – better than I could ever be on my own. When I first let Jesus Christ into my heart
as a middle-aged man and embarked on a daily prayer life, the changes were
profound: I experienced healing, the absence of loneliness, more focus at work,
better relationships, and was more joyful and peaceful. God wants to make us good; he wants us to
become holy. As C.S. Lewis wrote, “the
Christian thinks any good he does comes from the Christ-life inside him. He
does not think God will love us because we are good, but that God will make us
good because He loves us.” (Mere
Christianity)
There
is a sense of peace and freedom at the helm of a sailboat as one trims the
sails and lets the wind shepherd the vessel on a sailing adventure; the same
happens in me with Jesus the more I am able to trust in Him. When I sail I am
not in control of the wind; I can only cooperate with its direction and
force. Similarly, with God, I am never
in control. I know that I must
constantly strive to cooperate with His breath and gaze, and where He is
leading.
Living life in, through, and with Jesus, means being able to experience calm and peace even when the storms of life blow and threaten to capsize us.
Jesus, I trust in you; be the wind in my sails.
Photo by Michael Walk on Unsplash
