Confession: I’m on double duty because I have to deliver this column to my IT department and have a deadline for a presentation I’m giving at the Women of Religion Conference in Chicago next week.
The theme of the conference is “Riding the Winds of Change.” A few months ago I had to give an organizer a title. In haste and without thinking twice, I sent them an “Anchor of Hope for the Life of the World.”
Now that I’m on a deadline, I’m stuck with this choice. I’m trying not to have any regrets.
The clearest support for this theme is Hebrews 6:18-19, which some consider to be the origin of the use of anchors as a metaphor for the virtue of hope. Towards the hope that lies before our eyes. This is what we hold securely and firmly as the anchor of our souls…”
I made the mistake of investigating the anchor symbol further, which complicated my thinking. It turns out that Biblical archaeologists do not believe the Epistle to the Hebrews has any connection to the prolific anchor art found in several Roman Christian burial sites from the 1st and 2nd centuries.
Instead, they posit the anchor as a play on words rather than a metaphor. The use of this word is attested not by Hebrews 6, but by the Christian belief that through baptism we live and die in the Lord Jesus Christ.
In the Greek-speaking part of Rome in the 1st and 2nd centuries, the phrase “in the Lord” was written en kurio. This is obviously a pun on anchor. So this seems to be the message about the tombs of the Roman catacombs: those buried here lived and died in the Lord.
By the end of the third century, the anchor disappeared from Christian tombs as Latin became dominant and the new language, domino, no longer functioned as a pun.
Have we lost a good metaphor? Do you have a helpful anchor (pun intended) for next week’s presentation?
Yes, I think so! Because, from what I’ve learned, our hope lies not only in God’s promise of eternal life after death (yes), but also through baptism, as we are told in Romans 14. Whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord.”
The cultural hook I like to use in my presentations is True Spirit. This is a movie about a 16-year-old Australian girl named Jessica Watson who became the youngest person to circumnavigate the world solo and non-stop. I learned about Drouge while considering ideas for this presentation.
A drogue, also called a sea anchor, is similar to a parachute. On a boat, its purpose is to help sailors in a terrible storm. I take to heart what the internet says about the drogue being placed away from the stern of the boat to stabilize the boat in rough weather and point the right direction into the weather.
But a drogue isn’t really an anchor, right? Rather than bringing the boat to a complete stop, it stabilizes the boat by slowing its forward motion and helping the navigator maintain the correct heading. Isn’t that a good thing?
Except for this: Towards the end of Jessica’s 210-day journey, there’s a scene in the film where Jessica gets on the phone with her family and mentor Ben to discuss her limited options for surviving a tempest that threatens her safety. . The wise thing to do would be to go into port to avoid the storm. Of course, that would mean the end of her quest for a world record sail.
Her parents and Ben advise her to wait out the storm. That’s outrageous. But Jessica has other plans. She doesn’t use drogues and wants to travel with the storm.
She reminds Ben of an earlier experience in which a drogue slowed the boat down, giving the storm time to hit and damage her ship. “You always said you shouldn’t fight Mother Nature,” she reminds Ben. “So let’s work with her.”
Ben tells her to do what she thinks is best, “as long as you understand the consequences,” and gives her a solemn warning. In what could only be interpreted as a sort of cinematic baptismal agreement, Jessica says her final words to her loved ones. “I do.”
So what happens to those of us who are overwhelmed by the chaos of the world? Do we need an anchor to keep the boat from moving? A drogue that might stabilize us but leave us battered and weak? Or do we place our hope in the assurance of baptismal faith? Our truest anchor may not be a literal or figurative anchor, but the very life force of the Holy Spirit.
Only we know what we need in our lives in moments of danger, challenge, and confusion. anchor? Drogue? Will we have the support of our faith and loved ones when chaos threatens to overwhelm us? we choose. As long as we understand the consequences and solemnly agree: “I do.”
Sister Beth Murphy (OP) is the communications director for the Dominican Sisters of Springfield.
