The Lifeboat Men

I was born in the port city of Hull, England, but spent most of my childhood in a town called Bridlington on the east coast of Yorkshire. It was a seaside town where the Brits went for their holidays, as it boasted broad sandy beaches (complete with donkey rides) and pleasant walks along the coastal cliffs. I’ve many happy memories of my childhood there.

Bridlington was also the home harbour for a large fleet of small ships which fished the North Sea. In wintertime the North Sea could be very treacherous and sometimes the lifeboats were called upon.

Some children make heroes of policemen and women, or firefighters. In my childhood town our heroes were the lifeboat men. When fierce storms struck and a vessel was in trouble or had sunk, the lifeboat men took to the lifeboats and went out in all weathers to rescue them. Our school class once toured the life boat station and we were able to see what small but manoeuvrable craft the lifeboats were. We gained an appreciation of the courage it took for the lifeboat men to risk their own lives by taking these craft to sea in wild weather.

Whenever a ship was in trouble or people were missing at sea, in our school assembly we would sing the hymn, “Eternal Father, strong to save.”:

“Eternal Father, strong to save,

Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,

Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep

Its own appointed limits keep;

Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,

For those in peril on the sea!”

The worst tragedy of all was when the lifeboat men lost their lives saving others. In comparison, the whole town rejoiced when a lost sailor or fisherman was returned safely in the lifeboat.

There’s a common analogy these days that the church has become a cruise ship rather than a lifeboat and it’s not a bad comparison in some cases.

Cruises are very pleasant holidays. They provide a lot of enjoyment. There’s a multitude of organisation that goes into a cruise, with the ship well staffed- captain and officers, cruise director, entertainments officer, a band, chefs and tour guides. There’s plenty of food and activities and social life. You can make lots of friends and have a great time. When my family migrated from England to Australia we travelled by sea on the Fairsky. It was a tremendous adventure for a young girl.

Not too many people choose to train to man lifeboats and venture into rough seas to rescue people. It takes a special kind of person to do that. They too need a well-organised network. They need a home base where they can train together and share fellowship. I’m sure that at the lifeboat station the crews eat together and enjoy a laugh. But they have a purpose, and all their teamwork and training and activity relates to saving lives.

Jesus gave his disciples one great commission:

“All authority hath been given unto me in heaven and on earth. Go ye therefore, and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them into the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit: teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I commanded you: and lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world” (Mt. 28:18-20 ASV).

Jesus said “Go”. I used to attend a Pentecostal church which had a sign above the exit which one read as they left the building: “You are now entering your mission field.” We’re surrounded by a world of desperate people drowning in their sin. They need those who will brave the spiritual storms and throw them a lifeline. “Go” says Jesus- across the world, or a few steps across the room. It doesn’t matter when there are those who need saving.

Jesus doesn’t want His people to be forever sailing around in cruise ships. He wants them out in the lifeboats.  We don’t need to be afraid of the weather. After all, we are trusting in the One who calmed the storms and walked on the water.

“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”

(“Eternal Father Strong to Save” lyrics by William Whiting, written in 1860 and set to music by John Dykes, 1861)