Sabbath Devotional: For Those in Peril on the Sea

On a beautiful Sunday morning this past summer, I attended church at St. Clement’s parish in Worcester, England with my husband and roughly 20 or 30 other churchgoers. St. Clement’s parish is almost 1,000 years old and the current building where St. Clement’s parishioners worship was built in 1823. Although I have wandered through many historic churches, this was the first time I had attended a church service in a 200-year-old building. There were a lot of other firsts for me that morning — my first Church of England service, my first experience with a female vicar (or any vicar) leading the congregation, my first Eucharist, my first time reading and reciting from the Book of Common Prayer, my first experience with a collection plate.

It was not my first time in St. Clement’s, though. I had explored the church two years earlier in my quest to learn more about my 2nd great-grandmother Margaret Susannah, the first female member of the church in my matriarchal line to emigrate to Utah. She had grown up in this area of Worcester, less than one hundred yards from where I was sitting in church that July morning. The home where she lived and the school she attended are no longer there, but St. Clement’s church still exists, a building she would have been inside many times during her first nineteen years of life. I have had some amazing connections with Margaret as I’ve researched her life, especially here in England, but worshipping in the same church building that she did, maybe even in the same pew, was especially moving. 

Equally moving was the theme of that day’s worship service, Sea Sunday, an annual Sunday set aside to reflect, pray, and take action for brave men and women who work at sea to keep the global economy afloat. Sea Sunday is especially meaningful for parishioners at St. Clements because the anchor is one of the symbols of St. Clement. The Rev’d Sarah Cottrill led us through the service with hymns, scriptures, and prayers dedicated to seafarers across time, including Jesus and his apostles. As I love any type of body of water and find time in and around water to be quite spiritual, I appreciated all of the water-related references. And of course, my thoughts turned to Margaret’s trip across the ocean over 175 years ago.

But I didn’t think about Margaret for very long, because Rev’d Cottrill took us on a different journey that morning as she beautifully wove Jesus’ experience calming the sea with our duty as Christians to care for those who face stormy seas, both literally and figuratively, the seafarers that keep the economy running, the world fed, and even add fun to our lives. She and others spoke of the difficult conditions that workers face at sea — fatigue, communication difficulties, abandonment of ships and crews, mental health challenges, piracy, shipwrecks, injury and death, and even inadequate food and water supplies. We heard personal stories from members of the congregation who had worked on ships, we donated to mental health services for seafarers, we offered prayers for ship workers as well as ship owners, “please guide them to make ethical and humane decisions for their crew.” 

As I listened and participated in the service, the threads of connection between me, my Savior, and those who provide and sacrifice for me were almost tangible. I looked at what I was wearing, my phone, the bag I carried, the beautiful chapel, the prayer book I held, and felt profound humility, gratitude, and responsibility to care for the seafarers who cared for me. More importantly, the sermon reiterated that I’m not just connected to others spiritually, I’m also physically connected in innumerable ways to my brothers and sisters and all living beings across the waters, across the land, and across time. 

On that Sea Sunday, we sang the beloved Anglican hymn, Eternal Father, Strong to Save. The original hymn was written in 1860 by William Whiting, an Anglican churchman from Winchester, United Kingdom, and is thought to have been inspired by Psalms 107. The hymn is a beautiful prayer to the Father, a plea to succor those who are in “peril on the sea.” I also find it a powerful reminder that as humans, bound to each other in every way, we are also responsible to answer that plea for succor, especially for those in peril.

Eternal Father, strong to save, Whose arm hath bound the restless wave, Who bid'st the mighty ocean deep Its own appointed limits keep; O hear us when we cry to Thee, For those in peril on the sea.

O Christ, Whose voice the waters heard And hushed their raging at Thy word, Who walkedst on the foaming deep, And calm amidst its rage didst sleep; O hear us when we cry to Thee, For those in peril on the sea.

Most Holy Spirit, Who didst brood Upon the chaos dark and rude, And bid its angry tumult cease, And give, for wild confusion, peace; O hear us when we cry to Thee, For those in peril on the sea!

O Trinity of love and power, Our brethren shield in danger's hour; From rock and tempest, fire and foe, Protect them wheresoe'er they go; Thus evermore shall rise to Thee Glad hymns of praise from land and sea.

Amen.

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Lori Cartwright is the Utah state director at Mormon Women for Ethical Government.