The sea is a deceptive arena. If one is standing on the sandy shores on a glorious beach, the lapping of the gentle waves in their peaceful rhythm can lull one into a sense of serene calm and security. If one is in the midst of a tempest in the middle of the sea, or is facing the furious storm surge or a tsunami on normally peaceful shores, the sea turns from a calming and reassuring friend into a harsh and bitter enemy. We are surprisingly dependent on the seas in ways that we often do not understand. The food and products we take for granted as we live our lives are often grown or produced in foreign realms and shipped in large container boats across the seas until they reach our own ports, at which point they are moved to trains and trucks and brought to warehouses and stores and eventually our homes and businesses. This process is a fascinating one, at least for someone like myself with a deep interest and concern in logistics, but it is a process that is largely unknown to most people.
We are dependent on the sea in other ways as well. The vast majority of the world’s population lives close to the ocean, and many countries depend on the seas for fishing, oil, sewage disposal, desalination (for elusive and expensive sources of fresh water), as well as salt for food preservation and seasoning. Yet as much as we depend on the sea, its depths remain unfathomable to us, the bathymetry of its bottoms as mysterious and dark a place to us as the mountains of the moon. For a civilization that is so deeply dependent on the seas, we are strangely ignorant to our vulnurabilities and often immune to the sense of wonder and deep reflection that the sea provokes in those who are sensitive to its siren call. We may appreciate a fine prospect on the coast and value it highly in terms of price because of its view, we may curse the high price of insurance to protect our properties or forego it altogether, but we often remain ignorant of the deeper matters of life on the sea.
And yet natural disasters are not the only threats faced on the high seas. Those who are avid readers of my blog are aware of the deep concern I have for pirates, whose lack of respect for the property or lives of others is a threat that remains so long as the rewards are rich and the resolve of nations to protect their citizens and their ships is weak. At times the sea can be a dangerous area for human warfare. Most sea battles have been fought within sight of land, because as much as we depend on the sea and as old-fashioned as it may appear to travel on the sea, we deeply prefer to fight within sight of the more comfortable shores of our homelands than in the midst of the deep sea where oblivion awaits us. The depths of the sea are too much for us to fathom, and being creatures of the land we prefer the knowledge of solid ground under us than the vulnerability of floating on the surface of a deep and dangerous ocean. Understandably so.
As the sea is often a metaphor for life, and as we are captains of the ships of our souls in the fleet of either our Father in heaven or galley slaves in the fleet of His adversary, a deeper understanding of the sea often brings with us a deeper understanding of our life on land. All of our efforts on the ocean (as well as the sky and outer space, it should be noted) depend on having secure bases on land from which to enter into these much more exotic and dangerous realms. Even in ancient Israel, to say nothing of their heathen and superstitious neighbors, the ocean was seen as a force of chaos that required the influence of God to control and moderate, which can be seen in Job, the Psalms, as well as (most notably) the book of Jonah. We see the same ocean-based imagery of chaos and threat when looking at the beast that rises from the sea in Revelation. So long as we live in uncertain waters, the sea will be a place of at least some glamour as well as fear and dread.

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