From Abbot Joseph at Word Incarnate, a post about his retreat by the sea during the week after Easter, titled "Restful Waters, Thundering Waters":
"God sparkles, God sings, God overwhelms you like the tide and advances just as imperceptibly so."
"With a hymn composed in the eighth or ninth century, thus for over a thousand years, the Church has greeted Mary, the Mother of God, as “Star of the Sea”: Ave maris stella. Human life is a journey. Towards what destination? How do we find the way? Life is like a voyage on the sea of history, often dark and stormy, a voyage in which we watch for the stars that indicate the route. The true stars of our life are the people who have lived good lives. They are lights of hope. Certainly, Jesus Christ is the true light, the sun that has risen above all the shadows of history. But to reach him we also need lights close by—people who shine with his light and so guide us along our way. Who more than Mary could be a star of hope for us? With her “yes” she opened the door of our world to God himself; she became the living Ark of the Covenant, in whom God took flesh, became one of us, and pitched his tent among us (cf. Jn 1:14)."
- Pope Benedict XVI, Encyclical Spe Salvi (On Christian Hope), signed today.
Pope Benedict XVI on the image of the sea in religious history, in Jesus of Nazareth
"Water is the primordial element of life and is therefore also one of the primordial symbols of humanity. It appears to man in various forms and hence with various meanings. . . .
"It is a power that evokes admiration; its majesty calls forth amazement. Above all, though, it is feared in its guise as the counterpart to the earth, the domain of human life. The Creator has assigned the sea its limits, which it may not transgress: It is not permitted to swallow up the earth. The crossing of the Red Sea was above all a symbol of salvation for Israel, but of course it also points to the danger that proved to be the destiny of the Egyptians. If Christians consider the crossing of the Red Sea as a prefiguring of Baptism, there in the immediate foreground is the symbolism of death: It becomes an image of the mystery of the Cross. In order to be reborn, man must first enter with Christ into the 'Red sea,' plunge with him down into death, in order thus to attain new life with the risen Lord."
Photo: The cliff overlooking the Indian Ocean at Uluwatu Temple (Hindu), Bali, Indonesia. Photo taken by me in April, 1998.
"Never will I forget the impression the sea made upon me; I couldn't take my eyes off it since its majesty, the roaring of its waves, everything spoke to my soul of God's grandeur and power. . . . I made the resolution never to wander far away from the glance of Jesus in order to travel peacefully toward the eternal shore!"
- St. Thérèse of Lisieux, Story of a Soul (Study Edition, Manuscript A), writing of a trip to the ocean when she was 5 years old.
Photo: Crescent Beach (or maybe Endert's Beach?), Crescent City, California, photo by me, probably taken in 1995. I think this is one of several photos I took from a trail going into a redwood forest on the bluffs above the shoreline.
“In mental prayer, ecstasy is not at all inevitable. It is even exceptional. The one praying is usually like a swimmer who moves along on the surface. He bathes in the water but he always belongs to the atmospheric world. Then in ecstasy, suddenly he plunges, as if seized by the depths. He would have to suffocate. But, cared for by the abyssal entity that calls him, he survives, a limited time, surely, but consequent enough that he can discover the supernatural realities that underlie the world.”
- Jean-Jacques Antier, Thérèse d'Avila: De la crainte à l'amour
"I would like you to spend some time fishing. How? Here is how. The holy suffering of Jesus is a sea of sorrows, but it is also a sea of love. Ask the Lord to teach you to fish in this sea. Immerse yourself in it, and, no matter how deeply you go, you will never reach the bottom. Allow yourself to be penetrated with love and sorrow. In this way you will make the sufferings of the gentle Jesus your own.
"Fish for the pearls of the virtues of Jesus. This holy fishing is done without words; faith and love teach the way. The one who is most humble is the outstanding fisher. I do not have time for more because my pen has gone bad. The recollection that God gives me of the mercies done to your soul has made me write as I have; make use of this as it will please the Lord. Continue your prayers for me and also for my poor intentions. Jesus make you as holy as I wish but with the secret holiness of the Cross, which is the most precious. God bless you. Amen."
- St. Paul of the Cross, Letter 1122 to Sister Rose Mary Teresa of the Crucified Redeemer, written from San Angelo, April 8, 1758, from The Letters of St. Paul of the Cross, Vol. II.
A portion of a beautiful essay titled "The Solitude of the Sea," about praying alone by the sea, from Abbot Joseph of the Mount Tabor Monastery in northern California, posted this past Friday morning at Word Incarnate (click the link to read the entire essay):
"I turned my gaze from the western infinity to the southern shoreline to observe the white-crested waves gliding effortlessly but with great speed, as if they had some urgent business waiting on the shore. Row after row, they spent themselves in tumbling crashes on the sand. They’ve been doing this day and night for millions of years, but it’s always like seeing it for the first time, so enthralling is their majesty and power.
"To speak of majesty and power is to refer, of course, to their Maker. But this time I thought more of mercy than majesty. We sometimes say in our penitential liturgies that our sins are more than the sands of the seashore. Yet behold, wave after wave of the Ocean of Mercy washes them clean! For every sin a new wave hurries to the shore, ready to scour the oft-trodden sand till it shines. It’s his nature, after all, to forgive. He delights to forgive; He must forgive. Do not disappoint his desire by your indifference toward repentance. Give the Lord the joy of forgiving your sins! Someday we will see clearly this torrent of everlasting love, and it will be our delight to plunge in it forever!"
Sunday's Gospel is St. Mark's record of Jesus calming the storm at sea. Here is the Gospel (RSV) and links to commentaries on it:
35 On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, "Let us go across to the other side." 36 And leaving the crowd, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. And other boats were with him. 37 And a great storm of wind arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already filling. 38 But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him and said to him, "Teacher, do you not care if we perish?" 39 And he awoke and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Peace! Be still!" And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. 40 He said to them, "Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?" 41 And they were filled with awe, and said to one another, "Who then is this, that even wind and sea obey him?" [Mark 4:35-41 RSV]
Commentary by Father Raniero Cantalamessa:
"Trust in God: This is the message of the Gospel. On that day, what saved the disciples from shipwreck was the fact of taking Jesus in the boat, before beginning the crossing." [ZENIT]
Sunday Reflections with Father Frank Doyle, SJ:
"Very often we have no control over the political and social developments of our society; we have little or no control over what other people are doing. But, no matter what we are experiencing, we can -- with the help of Jesus -- find peace. It is the peace which only he can give. And it is a peace which no person and no thing can take away from us." [from Living Space]
"The Gift of Wisdom" by Father Edwin Gordon:
"In that frail boat we see a prophetic image of the Church across the ages, always tossed in the tempest of persecution and controversy but like Noah’s Ark, always surviving the storm." [from Homiletic & Pastoral Review]
Picture: Rembrandt's painting The Storm on the Sea of Galilee.
"I fear that we have, so to speak, undertaken to steer a ship through the waves of an angry sea and can neither control it nor without sin abandon it, for, as a certain wise man says:
"'If it is dangerous to be negligent in steering a ship in the midst of the sea, how much more perilous to abandon it in a storm with the waves running high; and even so the Church which makes its way through the ocean of this world like a great ship, buffeted in this life by diverse waves of temptation, is yet not to be abandoned but to be controlled.' [Julianus Pomerius, De vita contemplativa; Migne, P.L., 59, 431.]
"As examples we have the early fathers Clement and Cornelius and many others in Rome, Cyprian in Carthage, Athanasius in Alexandria, who, under pagan emperors, guided the ship of Christ -- nay, his dearest spouse, the Church -- teaching, defending, laboring, and suffering even unto the shedding of blood."
- St. Boniface, Letter No. LXII [78], Boniface to Archbishop Cuthbert of Canterbury, 747 A.D., from The Letters of Saint Boniface, translated by Ephraim Emerton (Records of Western Civilization Series), Columbia University Press.
Photo: Swami's Beach, Encinitas, California, in winter. ("Pictures by the Sea" photos in right sidebar will be updated tonight. Some of the photos from Memorial Day will be added, and some of the winter pictures taken out.)
Peter Brown, in his definitive Augustine of Hippo: A Biography (Revised 2000) wrote of St. Augustine's home in Hippo and his fear of the sea at pages 184-185:
"To reach the part of the town where Augustine lived in his 'Christian quarter', consisting of his main church with adjacent baptistry, a chapel, the bishop's house, and perhaps a monastery in a building overlooking the bishop's garden, you would have had to leave the main hill, and would have walked a good half mile towards the harbour. . . .
Yet, like so many ancient men, Augustine feared the sea. He never dared to sail along the rocky coast to Carthage; he always regarded the seaborne merchant as a speculator, taking the most hair-raising risks."
In the Thirteenth Book of Confessions (here, Albert C. Outler, Ph.D., D.D.'s translation for Nelson's Royal Classics), St. Augustine's view of the sea reflects that sense of the sea's fearful danger, drawing from Psalm 124 and Gen. 1:2:
"How can I speak of the weight of concupiscence that drags us downward into the deep abyss, and of the love that lifts us up by Thy Spirit who moved over the waters? To whom shall I tell this? How shall I tell it? For concupiscence and love are not certain 'places' into which we are plunged and out of which we are lifted again. What could be more like, and yet what more unlike? They are both feelings; they are both loves. The uncleanness of our own spirit flows downward with the love of worldly with the love of worldly care; and the sanctity of Thy Spirit raises us upward by the love of release from anxiety -- that we may lift our hearts to Thee where Thy Spirit is 'moving over the waters.' Thus, we shall have come to that supreme rest where our souls shall have passed through the waters which give no standing ground." [footnotes omitted]
In his Commentary on the Psalms (Christian Classics Ethereal Library), St. Augustine said more about Psalm 124:
5. In the first place, what meaneth, “Perchance our soul hath passed over”? (ver. 5). Understand however the meaning to be this: “Thinkest thou our soul hath passed over?” and why do they say, “Thinkest thou”? Because the greatness of the danger maketh it hardly credible that he hath escaped. They have endured a great death: they have been in great dangers; they have been so much oppressed, that they almost gave consent while alive, and were all but swallowed up alive: now therefore that they have escaped, now that they are secure, but still remember the danger, the great danger, say, “Thinkest thou our soul hath passed over the water without substance?”
6. What is the water without substance, save the water of sins without substance? For sins have not substance: they have destitution, not substance; they have want, not substance. In that water without substance, the younger son lost the whole of his substance…Dost thou wish to see how the water is without substance? Take away with thee to the world below what thou hast acquired: what wilt thou do? Thou hast acquired gold: thou hast lost thy faith: after a few days thou leavest this life; thou canst not take away with thee the gold thou hast acquired by the loss of thy good faith; thy heart, destitute of faith, goeth forth into punishment—thy heart, which if full of faith, would go forth unto a crown. Behold, what thou hast done is nothing: and thou hast offended God for nothing.
7. Men hear that common proverb; and the proverbs of God slumber in them. What proverb? “Better in hand than in hope.” Unhappy man, what hast thou in hand? Thou sayest, “Better in hand.” Hold it so as not to lose it, and then say, “Better in hand.” But if thou holdest it not, why dost thou not hold fast that which thou canst not lose? What then hast thou in hand? Gold. Keep it in hand, therefore: if thou hast it in hand, let it not be taken away without thy consent. But if through gold also thou art carried where thou wishest not, and if a more powerful robber seeketh thee, because he findeth thee a less powerful robber; if a stronger eagle pursue thee, because thou hast carried off a hare before him: the lesser was thy prey, thou wilt be a prey unto the greater. Men see not these things in human affairs: by so much avarice are they blinded…
8. Let them escape the water without substance, and say, “Blessed be the Lord, who hath not given us over for a prey unto their teeth” (ver. 6). For the hunters were following, and had placed a bait in their trap. What bait? The sweetness of this life, so that each man for the sake of the sweetness of this life may thrust his head into iniquity, and be caught in the trap. Not they, in whom the Lord was, they who say, “If the Lord Himself had not been in us;” they have not been taken in the trap. Let the Lord be in thee, and thou wilt not be taken in the trap."
In Book XX, Chapter 16 of The City of God, St. Augustine spoke of the "sea of glass" in Rev. 15:2, saying that the sea symbolized "the surgings and restlessness of human life." Here is the entire chapter:
"Having finished the prophecy of judgment, so far as the wicked are concerned, it remains that he speak also of the good. Having briefly explained the Lord’s words, “These will go away into everlasting punishment,” it remains that he explain the connected words, “but the righteous into life eternal.” “And I saw,” he says, “a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth have passed away; and there is no more sea.” This will take place in the order which he has by anticipation declared in the words, “I saw One sitting on the throne, from whose face heaven and earth fled.” For as soon as those who are not written in the book of life have been judged and cast into eternal fire,—the nature of which fire, or its position in the world or universe, I suppose is known to no man, unless perhaps the divine Spirit reveal it to some one,—then shall the figure of this world pass away in a conflagration of universal fire, as once before the world was flooded with a deluge of universal water. And by this universal conflagration the qualities of the corruptible elements which suited our corruptible bodies shall utterly perish, and our substance shall receive such qualities as shall, by a wonderful transmutation, harmonize with our immortal bodies, so that, as the world itself is renewed to some better thing, it is fitly accommodated to men, themselves renewed in their flesh to some better thing. As for the statement, “And there shall be no more sea,” I would not lightly say whether it is dried up with that excessive heat, or is itself also turned into some better thing. For we read that there shall be a new heaven and a new earth, but I do not remember to have anywhere read anything of a new sea, unless what I find in this same book, “As it were a sea of glass like crystal.” But he was not then speaking of this end of the world, neither does he seem to speak of a literal sea, but “as it were a sea.” It is possible that, as prophetic diction delights in mingling figurative and real language, and thus in some sort veiling the sense, so the words “And there is no more sea” may be taken in the same sense as the previous phrase, “And the sea presented the dead which were in it.” For then there shall be no more of this world, no more of the surgings and restlessness of human life, and it is this which is symbolized by the sea."
Perhaps such passages in the writings of St. Augustine reflect that ancient fear of the sea that Peter Brown mentioned. He lived near water and used his experience of the sea to explain life, sin, death, salvation and eternity. His references to the sea reflect the perils of fourth century sea travel, as seen in these passages.
"After remaining at Genoa rather more than a month, the travellers once more took ship and sailed for the coast of Tuscany. Their passage was not unattended with danger, if the circumstances briefly related in the deposition of Peter Ventura belong to this time. 'It chanced once,' he says, 'when the Saint was travelling by sea, that she was overtaken by a violent tempest, so that the vessel in which she was, suffered shipwreck and was broken to pieces, but she happily reached the shore safe and sound with all her companions.' It would have been more satisfactory to have had fuller details regarding this adventure, but the biographers of the Saint too often observe the rule of retrenching from their narrative the names of places, persons, and the dates of time. We know of no other occasion when Catherine was exposed to the perils of the sea except her short trip to Gorgona, which was certainly attended by no such disaster to her and her party; though it is barely possible that an incorrect report of the accident which happened to her escort on their return to the island may have furnished ground for the above narrative. Certain it is, that neither Raymund nor any of the other companions of the Saint on the voyage from Genoa have alluded to the shipwreck, though Raymund in his Legend lets us know that they were in real peril. He tells the story, however, more by way of illustrating Catherine's confidence in God, than with any view of describing the incidents of their journey. He does not even inform us in so many words that the circumstances of which he speaks happened at this particular time, though we know it must have been so, this being the only sea voyage in which he was her companion. 'I remember,' he says [1], that being on board ship with her and many other persons, the wind lowered into a dead calm towards midnight, and the pilot became extremely anxious: we were in a dangerous channel; if the wind had taken us sideways, we might have been thrown on some neighbouring islands or floated into the open sea. I gave notice to Catherine of our danger. She answered in her ordinary tone: 'Why does that trouble you, what have you to do of yourselves?' This was her ordinary expression in time of trouble. She considered that a soul which has fixed its thought on God should allow no anxiety or distraction to cause it disquiet; for God knows all, and can do all, and He will watch and provide for the necessities of such as meditate on Him. Hence, whenever we entertained any fear for ourselves or our brethren, she would often say, 'What have you to do of yourselves? let God act. His eye is over you; and He will protect you.' When, therefore, I heard her say these words, I took comfort and was somewhat reassured; but presently the wind changed, and blew in the direction dreaded by the pilot. I mentioned it to Catherine: 'Let him change the helm, in the name of God,' she said, 'and follow the wind that Heaven shall send him.' The pilot obeyed, while she, meantime, bowed down her head and made her prayer to God. And we had not kept on that course so far as a man would shoot an arrow, but that there came a gracious wind that brought us to the haven that we desired, where we arrived to our great wonder and gladness about the hour of Matins, singing all, with a joyful voice, Te Deum laudamus.' [2] This 'desired haven' was the Port of Leghorn, where they once more set foot on the dear old soil of Tuscany, and where they were met by Lapa, her impatience to embrace her beloved child not suffering her to await her coming to Siena; for, before returning thither, Catherine was to pay a short visit to Pisa. Stephen's joy was a little damped on finding that an arrangement had been made on his behalf, in virtue of which he was to precede the rest of the party, and travel with one companion to Siena, charged with sundry letters and commissions, and feeling not unlike a truant schoolboy to whom the unwelcome hour has come for returning home.[3]"
"[1] Legend, Part I, ch. ix.
"[2] In the above passage two paragraphs have been transposed for the sake of clearness, and a few of the picturesque phrases adopted which occur in Father Fen's translation, though his narrative as a whole is less intelligible than the original Legend.
"[3] The reader will understand that these details, not given in any of the Lives of St. Catherine hitherto published, are not imaginary; they are furnished by the very interesting collection of "Letters of St. Catherine's Disciples," preserved in MS at Siena, and published by Signor Grottanelli in 1868, at the end of the Legende Minore. From them we learn the fact of the Saint's second visit to Pisa, which has hitherto been overlooked."
- Augusta Theodosia Drane, History of St. Catherine of Siena, 1880.
"Then the Eternal God, to enamor and excite that soul still more for the salvation of souls, replied to her, and said:
“When My only-begotten Son returned to Me, forty days after the resurrection, this Bridge, namely Himself, arose from the earth, that is, from among the conversation of men, and ascended into Heaven by virtue of the Divine Nature and sat at the right hand of Me, the Eternal Father, as the angels said, on the day of the Ascension, to the disciples, standing like dead men, their hearts lifted on high, and ascended into Heaven with the wisdom of My Son—’Do not stand here any longer, for He is seated at the right hand of the Father!’ When He, then, had thus ascended on high, and returned to Me the Father, I sent the Master, that is the Holy Spirit, who came to you with My power and the wisdom of My Son, and with His own clemency, which is the essence of the Holy Spirit. He is one thing with Me, the Father, and with My Son. And He built up the road of the doctrine which My Truth had left in the world. Thus, though the bodily presence of My Son left you, His doctrine remained, and the virtue of the stones founded upon this doctrine, which is the way made for you by this Bridge. For first, He practiced this doctrine and made the road by His actions, giving you His doctrine by example rather than by words; for He practiced, first Himself, what He afterwards taught you, then the clemency of the Holy Spirit made you certain of the doctrine, fortifying the minds of the disciples to confess the truth, and to announce this road, that is, the doctrine of Christ crucified, reproving, by this means, the world of its injustice and false judgment, of which injustice and false judgment, I will in time discourse to you at greater length.
“This much I have said to you in order that there might be no cloud of darkness in the mind of your hearers, that is, that they may know that of this Body of Christ I made a Bridge by the union of the divine with the human nature, for this is the truth.
“This Bridge, taking its point of departure in you, rose into Heaven, and was the one road which was taught you by the example and life of the Truth. What has now remained of all this, and where is the road to be found? I will tell you, that is, I will rather tell those who might fall into ignorance on this point. I tell you that this way of His doctrine, of which I have spoken to you, confirmed by the Apostles, declared by the blood of the martyrs, illuminated by the light of doctors, confessed by the confessors, narrated in all its love by the Evangelists, all of whom stand as witnesses to confess the Truth, is found in the mystical body of the Holy Church. These witnesses are like the light placed on a candlestick, to show forth the way of the Truth which leads to life with a perfect light, as I have said to you, and, as they themselves say to you, with proof, since they have proved in their own cases, that every person may, if he will, be illuminated to know the Truth, unless he choose to deprive his reason of light by his inordinate self-love. It is, indeed, the truth that His doctrine is true, and has remained like a lifeboat to draw the soul out of the tempestuous sea and to conduct her to the port of salvation."
- St. Catherine of Siena, The Dialogue (see also here)
I sought the Lord, and afterward I knew
He moved my soul to seek him, seeking me.
It was not I that found, O Savior true;
No, I was found of thee.
Thou didst reach forth thy hand and mine enfold;
I walked and sank not on the storm-vexed sea.
'Twas not so much that I on thee took hold,
As thou, dear Lord, on me.
I find, I walk, I love, but oh, the whole
Of love is but my answer, Lord, to thee!
For thou wert long beforehand with my soul;
Always thou lovedst me.
- Anonymous, hymn, c. 1878, public domain, printed in this month's issue of Magnificat for Prayer for the Evening, Tuesday, April 4.
Photo: Swami's Beach, Encinitas, California.
Steven Riddle at Flos Carmelli has a post today about Elijah and Mary, speaking of how Carmelite monks and friars have viewed the cloud above the sea as symbolic of Mary, drawn from the story of Elijah in I Kings 18:42-45.
The Catholic Encyclopedia offers some insight here into the early origin of references to the sea in connection with Mary. One of the understandings of the meaning of her name is "bitter sea", arising from something written by St. Jerome that was misunderstood over the centuries:
One of the meanings assigned to the name Mary in Martianay's edition of St. Jerome's works (S. Hier. opp., t. II, Parisiis, 1699, 2°, cols. 109-170, 181-246, 245-270) is pikra thalassa, bitter sea. Owing to the corrupt condition in which St. Jerome found the "Onomastica" of Philo and of Origen, which he in a way re-edited, it is hard to say whether the interpretation "bitter sea" is really due to either of these two authorities; at any rate, it is based on the assumption that the name miryam is composed of the Hebrew words mar (bitter) and yam (sea).
The name "Star of the Sea" for Mary comes from a misunderstanding of St. Jerome's work. Rather than translating the name "Miriam" as "Stella Maris" (Star of the Sea), Jerome actually wrote "Stilla Maris" (drop of the sea). The Catholic Encyclopedia gives the citation to Jerome's translation of the Hebrew at De nomin. hebraic., de Exod., de Matth., P.L., XXIII, col, 789, 842.
The symbolism of the sea seems to be deep within human nature, something nearly everyone can immediately comprehend. It appears in varied forms in Christian spirituality, corresponding to the fact that the ocean itself appears to us in varied forms. It can be symbolic of peace and of the Trinity (the "sea pacific" in the Dialogue of St. Catherine of Siena); it can be the unfathomable depths of God's love -- "If the sea were the food of love" -- in the Sayings of St. Catherine of Genoa; it can be the unfathomable complexity of the Trinity in the scallop shell legend of St. Augustine. It can be God in His unfathomable greatness to whom we fly in love, through Christ, as described by St. Paul of the Cross.
St. Augustine feared the sea, as was common for ancient men. St. Jerome probably did too. The Psalmist prayed that God would "deliver me from the many waters" (Psalm 143/144:8). In mentioning that Psalm in one of his Wednesday general audience messages on the Psalms, Pope Benedict XVI interpreted the verse about the ocean as symbolizing "the chaos from which the divine hand saves the king."
One of the most common images of the sea is a metaphor for the world, in the storms of our lives, the threats to the Church, with the Church or our own souls seen as a ship or a boat on the sea of life in this world. One of many metaphoric uses of the sea in that way appears in another letter of St. Paul of the Cross in which he writes of God as holding in His hands "the tiny ship that is your soul". In a letter of St. Basil the Great, in which he counseled a new bishop to steer his "ship" prudently, and to keep his vessel from sinking in the "bitter waves of perverse doctrine". This, again, reflects the ancient concept of the sea as threatening and as symbolic of the Church's plight in this life, protected by God as we encounter the dangers of a journey in the world.
It is the sea as symbolic of the world that is seen in the Carmelite image of Mary as the cloud above the sea, as Steven describes it:
"Mary is the cloud that rises out of the sea. The sea is saltwater, undrinkable, a vast body of water, next to which the kingdom can still thirst and die. The sea is salty, impure, an image of fallen humanity with its admixture of sin. Mary rises out of this sea, pure and perfect, laden with the water of grace that will pour out through her to all humanity--not the source of Grace herself, nevertheless the container into which all is poured until it overflows out to all people, limitless, and life-giving. Not God, but human, Mary rises from the sea, pure and Immaculate in her conception, formed as a vessel of God's grace and a place of refuge for His people."
Although the concept of Mary as represented by the cloud above the water would be fairly recent, coming from the Carmelites, it is probably rooted in these more ancient concepts of the sea as symbolic of the world, symbolic of the threats of heresy and destruction that embattle the ship of the Church, and probably also rooted in the earlier understandings of Mary's name as drawn from images of the sea, taken from misreadings from St. Jerome.
It is about time that I started adding some structure and interpretation to my little collection of "sea" quotes in my blog's "The Sea" category. I am thankful to Steven for mentioning this Carmelite tradition, which I can add to my collection and use as a starting point for bringing them a little more together.
In today's weekly General Audience, Pope Benedict XVI spoke about Psalm 143/144:
LORD, what is man that thou dost regard him,
the son of man that thou dost think of him?
Man is like a breath,
his days are like a passing shadow.
Bow thy heavens, O LORD, and come down!
Touch the mountains that they smoke!
Flash fortht he lighting and scatter them,
send out thy arrows and rout them!
Stretch forth thy hand from on high,
rescue me and deliver me from the many waters,
from the hand of aliens,
whose mouths speak lies,
and whose right hand is a right hand of falsehood.
(Ps. 143/144:3-8 RSV)
P.I.M.E. Asia News - Italy has an article online about the Pope's message today here. Here is an excerpt:
“Faced with the all-mighty Lord and notwithstanding his regal dignity the orant feels his weaknesses and fragility. . . . Thus, ‘Why does God concern Himself with such a miserable and fleeting creature?’” asked the Pope. “The answer to this question (cf v. 3) comes when God bursts onto the scene in the so-called Theophany and its a procession of cosmic elements and historical events that celebrate the transcendence of the supreme King of being, the universe and history. Hence the mountains erupting (cf v. 5), striking thunderbolts that scatter the wicked (cf v. 6), the ocean “waters” symbolising the chaos from which the divine hand saves the king (cf v. 7)."
"After this Jesus revealed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias; Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the
sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples were together. Simon
Peter said to them, "I am going fishing." They said to him, "We will
go with you." They went out and got into the boat; but that night they
caught nothing.
Just as day was breaking, Jesus stood on the
beach; yet the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, "Children, have you any
fish?" They answered him, "No." He said to them, "Cast the net off of
the right side of the boat, and you will find some." So they cast it,
and now they were not able to haul it in, for the quantity of fish.
That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, "It is the Lord!" When
Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on his clothes, for he
was stripped for work, and sprang into the sea. But the other
disciples came in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they
were not far from the land, but about a hundred yards off.
When
they got out on land, they saw a charcoal fire there, with fish lying
on it, and bread. Jesus said to them, "Bring some of the fish that you
have just caught." So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore,
full of large fish, a hundred and fifty-three of them; and although
there were so many, the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, "Come
and have breakfast." Now none of the disciples dared ask him, "Who are
you?" They knew it was the Lord. Jesus came and took the bread and
gave it to them, and so with the fish. This was now the third time
that Jesus was revealed to the disciples after he was raised from the
dead."
(John 21:1-14 RSV)
"Thou,
oh eternal Trinity, art a deep Sea, into which the deeper I enter the
more I find, and the more I find the more I seek; the soul cannot be
satiated in Thy abyss, for she continually hungers after Thee, the
eternal Trinity, desiring to see Thee with light in Thy light. As
the hart desires the spring of living water, so my soul desires to
leave the prison of this dark body and see Thee in truth. How
long, oh! Eternal Trinity, fire and abyss of love, will Thy face
be hidden from my eyes?"
The Dialogue of St. Catherine of Siena: 1347-1380, translated by Algar Thorold, Tan Books and Publishers, Inc. 1974.
"Oh! Eternal Father, that You have illuminated me with the light of holy
faith. Of a truth this light is a sea, for the soul revels in You,
Eternal Trinity, the Sea Pacific. The water of the sea is not turbid,
and causes no fear to the soul, for she knows the truth; it is a deep
which manifests sweet secrets, so that where the light of Your faith
abounds, the soul is certain of what she believes. This water is a
magic mirror into which You, the Eternal Trinity, bid me gaze, holding
it with the hand of love, that I may see myself, who am Your creature,
there represented in You, and Yourself in me through the union which
You made of Your godhead with our humanity."
- The Dialogue of St. Catherine of Siena
The Dialogue of St. Catherine of Siena on Christian Classics Ethereal Library
“If the sea were
the food of love, there would be no man or woman who would not go and
drown themselves in it, and if they were living far from the sea, they
would have no other thought but getting to it to plunge in. This
love is so delightful that any other pleasure seems dismal in
comparison with it. It makes a man so rich that anything else
would seem beggary. It makes him so light that he hardly feels
the ground under his feet. His heart is so fixed on high that he
can feel no distress on earth. He is most free because he is
always unhampered with God.”
St. Catherine of Genoa, Life, Chapter XXIX, from The Life and Sayings of Saint Catherine of Genoa, edited and translated by Paul Garvin, Alba House (div. of St. Paul Publications, New York), 1964
From September 10, 2005:
From Homily L, St. John Chrysostom's Homilies on the Gospel of St. Matthew:
"What then saith Peter, everywhere ardent, and ever starting forward before the rest?
“Lord, if it be Thou,” saith he, “bid me come unto Thee on the water.”
He said not, “Pray and entreat,” but, “bid.” Seest thou how great his
ardor, how great his faith? Yet surely he is hereby often in danger, by
seeking things beyond his measure. For so here too he required an
exceedingly great thing, for love only, not for display. For neither
did he say, “Bid me walk on the water,” but what? “Bid me come unto
Thee.” For none so loved Jesus.
This he did also after the resurrection; he endured not to come with
the others, but leapt forward. And not love only, but faith also
doth he display. For he not only believed that He was able Himself to
walk on the sea, but that He could lead upon it others also; and he
longs to be quickly near Him.
“And he said, Come. And when Peter was come down out of the ship, he
walked on the water, and came to Jesus. But when he saw the wind
boisterous,he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying,
Lord, save me. And immediately Jesus stretched forth His hand and
caught him, and saith unto him, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst
thou doubt?”
This is more wonderful than the former. Therefore this is done after
that. For when He had shown that He rules the sea, then He carries on
the sign to what is yet more marvellous. Then He rebuked the winds
only; but now He both walks Himself, and permits another to do so;
which thing if He had required to be done at the beginning, Peter would
not have so well received it, because he had not yet acquired so great
faith.
Wherefore then did Christ permit him? Why, if He had said, “thou canst
not,” Peter being ardent would have contradicted Him again. Wherefore
by the facts He convinces him, that for the future he may be sobered.
But not even so doth he endure. Therefore having come down, he becomes
dizzy; for he was afraid. And this the surf caused, but his fear was
wrought by the wind.
But John saith, that “they willingly received Him into the ship; and
immediately the ship was at the land whither they went,” relating this
same circumstance. So that when they were on the point of arriving at
the land, He entered the ship.
Peter then having come down from the ship went unto Him, not rejoicing
so much in walking on the water, as in coming unto Him. And when he had
prevailed over the greater, he was on the point of suffering evil from
the less, from the violence of the wind, I mean, not of the sea. For
such a thing is human nature; not seldom effecting great things, it
exposes itself in the less; as Elias felt toward Jezebel, as Moses
toward the Egyptian, as David toward Bathsheba. Even so then this man
also; while their fear was yet at the height, he took courage to walk
upon the water, but against the assault of the wind he was no longer
able to stand; and this, being near Christ. So absolutely nothing doth
it avail to be near Christ, not being near Him by faith.
And this also showed the difference between the Master and the
disciple, and allayed the feelings of the others. For if in the case of
the two brethren they had indignation, much more here; for they had not
yet the Spirit vouchsafed unto them.
But afterwards they were not like this. On every occasion, for example,
they give up the first honors to Peter, and put him forward in their
addresses to the people, although of a rougher vein than any of them.
And wherefore did He not command the winds to cease, but Himself
stretched forth His hand and took hold of him? Because in him faith was
required. For when our part is wanting, then God’s part also is at a
stand.
Signifying therefore that not the assault of the wind, but his want of
faith had wrought his overthrow, He saith, “Wherefore didst thou doubt,
O thou of little faith?” So that if his faith had not been weak, he
would have stood easily against the wind also. And for this reason, you
see, even when He had caught hold of Him, He suffers the wind to blow,
showing that no hurt comes thereby, when faith is steadfast.
And as when a nestling has come out of the nest before the time, and is
on the point of falling, its mother bears it on her wings, and brings
it back to the nest; even so did Christ."
- St. John Chrysostom, Homilies on the Gospel of St. Matthew, from A Selected Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, edited by Philip Schaff, D.D., LLD, Volume X, translated by the Rev. Sir George Prevost, Baronet, M.A., and available online at:
http://www.ccel.org/ccel/schaff/npnf110.iii.L.html
The feast day of St. John Chrysostom is September 13.
This is an excerpt from another letter of St. Paul of the Cross about the sea:
"The distractions of your work and other things are outside; with
the eye of faith, with a glance of love, -- for lovers reach out to
each other with such glances -- with a simple glance of faith and holy
love, which takes place in a moment, all clothed with the gentle Jesus,
the soul sinks and loses itself, I will put it that way, in the Immense
Divinity, where no one can draw near.
I will put this in a
parable, for our Divine Master spoke in parables. For example, finding
myself on the shore of the sea, I take a drop of water, clinging to a
finger of my hand, and I speak to this drop of water: "O poor little
drop, where do you want to be?" Listen to the reply, "In the sea, in
the sea," it says. What do I do? I shake my finger and let that poor
little drop fall into the sea. Now I ask you: "Is it not true that you
are that drop of water?" Certainly you are. But find it, if you have
the mind to do so. You are lost in that great sea, your center. Oh,
if it could speak what would it say? Draw the consequences, Signora
Marianna, and apply the parable.
Lose sight of the sky and land,
the sea and the sand, and everything created, and let this drop of soul
that God has given you lose itself in its Origin, who is God, the
Highest, the Almighty, and hidden there in the Divinity, allow love to
do its work and be more passive than active.
You should
understand that to make this flight of love, you need to go through the
door that is Christ, as the Gospel teaches. The one who passes through
this Divine Door finds oneself where the Lord is. He is in the bosom
of the Father: "The Son of God, who is in the bosom of the Father."
There he leads his dear lambs. Remain then, Marianna, "in the bosom
of God," which is the true place of prayer, without images or figures,
but in pure and naked faith and with a pure and clean love without
dross."
- St. Paul of the Cross, Letter No. 1601 to Marianna Girelli (2), from San Angelo, March 11, 1766.
Part of the symbolism of "Blog by-the-Sea" comes from the seashell legend about St. Augustine. Pope Benedict XVI includes in his coat of arms a picture of a seashell based upon that legend. At Church of the Nativity, our priest, Msgr. Lawrence Purcell, posted on our church website an explanation of the symbolism of the scallop shell on the Pope's Coat of Arms. Here is Msgr. Purcell's explanation, which you can also find in .pdf format by clicking on the link here for Church of the Nativity:
"Benedict XVI and the Scallop Shell
For many years, I was the pastor of the parish from which Nativity was formed, St. James in Solana Beach. We used many of the symbols of another church in northern Spain by the same name, Santiago de Compostela. (Sant = saint. Iago = Jacob or James.) The main symbol of this centuries old center of pilgrimages is the scallop shell, the symbol of baptism and the life long pilgrimage or conversion that baptism entails. When Josef Ratzinger was ordained a bishop he followed the custom of creating a coat of arms that symbolized his new role. He placed on it the scallop shell. It will be interesting to see if he uses it on his papal coat of arms the way John Paul II used the M for Mary. The shell has a very personal significance for Josef Ratzinger. The shell is the symbol of baptism because closed it looks like a lifeless rock but when opened one discovers life within. He was baptized the day after his birth in 1927. It was the vigil of Easter Sunday. The liturgical revival of the Second Vatican Council (1962-65) brought back the tradition of baptizing new Christians at the Solemn Easter Vigil.
The scallop shell reminds the new pope of another great theological mind, St. Augustine, about whom he wrote his doctoral dissertation. Walking along the seashore reflecting on the mystery of the Trinity, Augustine came upon a child who was using a shell to make a hole in the sand and fill it with sea water.
Augustine realized that his efforts to understand the Trinity were as futile as the child’s trying to put the entire ocean in the hole he had made in the sand. The young German scholar who has just become pope wrote: “The shell reminds me of my great master Augustine, of my own theological work and of the vastness of the mystery which surpasses all our learning.” Today, with him, we all take a step forward with that faith."
Here one of the letters by St. Paul of the Cross that lends part of the symbolism to "Blog by-the-Sea". I will post a few of these entries and some things I wrote myself from the old Blog by the Sea site so that they won't be lost when, eventually, the old site is deleted.
"A letter to Mother Colomba Gertrude Gandolfi (43)
San Angelo
June 24, 1760
Reverend Mother,
I received your letter yesterday
afternoon and, believe me, I have not abandoned your soul as you say,
but since you have not given me any account of your soul, what can I
do? I am not wanting, nor will I be wanting, to share my poor
prayers with you. I read that you are in heavy fights and storms,
but you do not explain these. I do not know what to say, except
that this is not a bad sign, but very good, since I suppose that your
will is always strong toward God, even though at times, because of the
great violence of the storms, it will appear that you are suffering
shipwreck. Have no doubts, Sister, have no doubts. God is
in the midst of your heart and loves you, and, if he permits these
storms, he does so for your greater good so that you may come to true
humility of heart and annihilation of self.
The sure path that you need to
follow in such battles, even though I do not know what they are, is to
remain submissive to the Will of God and allow oneself to be scourged
by that loving hand that permits such tribulations. I have at
times observed that the faithful dog, when it is beaten by its master,
lies on the ground, bows its head and ears, and allows itself to be
beaten, showing meekness. You must act in this way. Keep
your higher soul strong in fidelity to God and suffer the blows with
meekness and don't allow your soul to be embittered. Do not ever
say: "For me it is over; God has abandoned me." No, daughter,
never say that, but with humility, and obedience to the great master
allow yourself to be beaten, for it is a truth of faith that whom God
loves the more he scourges.
No matter how horrible these storms
may be, do not ever abandon the support of hope in God, for you will
never flounder, and although at times the storm is so great and the sea
so enraged, and it seems your ship is being sunk, it is not so.
All this is on the outside, that is, in the lower part of your
soul, but within no salty sea water has come in. The pilot who is
guiding the ship is Jesus Christ, and he holds in his omnipotent arms,
even in the middle of his divine Heart, the tiny ship that is your poor
soul.
So be of good cheer and continue
your practices with fidelity and be recollected in your interior as
much as you can. In the confessional hold back a bit, except for
what is necessary, and that briefly, for that will help you much, and
you will confess to me since present circumstances demand this.
I have written more than I believed
I would, since you gave me no information. I hope what I have
written will help you. Pray much for me, and I am in Jesus Christ,
Your unworthy servant in the Lord,
Paul of the Cross
I add that with lively hope in God,
after the fierce storm that you are undergoing, there will come a very
great peace and serenity. Alleluia."
