Navigation

       Navigation 

                      "Not all those who wander are lost..." - J.R.R. Tolkien

      One of the most impressive feats of navigation occurred in the earlier parts of the twentieth century. On April 24, 1916, Earnest Shackelton, along with five companions, left Elephant Island in a relatively small craft, a lifeboat named the James Caird. Sixteen days later they made landfall at South Georgia Island, 830 nautical miles (1500 km; 920 miles) away. In order to grasp the significance of this voyage, some background information will be helpful.

      Earnest Shackelton's third expedition to the Antarctic is well documented elsewhere (read "The Endurance" by Alfred Lansing), but I'll give a brief synopsis.

      On 5 December 1914, the Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition left South Georgia Island in the South Atlantic for the Weddell Sea with the intent of landing a shore party near Vahsel Bay for a proposed traverse of the continent. Before the Endurance could reach her destination, she was trapped in pack ice east of the Ronne Ice Shelf and by the middle of February 1915, was held fast. The ship drifted slowly northward for eight months. On the 27th of October, the ship was finally crushed by the enormous pressure in the ice pack, ultimately sinking on the 21st of November, 1915. Shackelton and his 27 men were now stranded on the ice, thousands of miles from civilization.

      An attempt to haul three salvaged lifeboats on sleds towards land was eventually abandoned and the crew drifted on the ice an additional four months further north towards the open sea. On April 8, 1916, the ice floe on which they were camped began to break up and the boats were launched. By the 15th of April, they made landfall on the north side of Elephant Island, described at the time as remote, uninhabited, and rarely visited by whalers or any other ship.

      Shackelton and his crew were now in desperate straits. Although fresh water was available and they could hunt for food (mainly seal and penguin), the quality and variety were limited and the months of uncertainty and hardships were taking their toll. With the rigors of an Antarctic winter coming on, Shackelton decided to go for help. After much discussion with the expedition's second-in-command, Frank Wild, and the ship's captain, Frank Worsley, the decision was made to use the largest lifeboat, the James Caird, and head with the prevailing winds towards South Georgia Island. Shackelton chose five men to accompany him: Frank Worsley, Tom Crean, John Vincent, Timothy McCarthy, and Harry McNish.

      It is difficult to imagine the magnitude of the proposition on those intimately involved. South Georgia is a very small landmass in the midst of a very large ocean, with some of the roughest seas in the world in between. The island is barely a hundred miles long and between 10 to 25 miles wide. The Atlantic ocean at this latitude is about 4000 to 5000 miles in breadth, depending on how one measures it, encompassing over 15 million square miles of water. Had they missed their mark the next landfall would've been South Africa, maybe, at just under 3000 miles distance. These exhausted men, poorly outfitted, and in horrific conditions, somehow managed to pull this off. It was the nautical equivalence of finding a needle in a haystack. It remains one of the greatest small-boat journeys of all time.

      Their success depended on Worley's ability to navigate, and initially, only two sightings (one on the 26th and one on the 29th) were taken. After that, navigation became "a merry jest of guesswork" (Worley), as they began to encounter the legendary weather consistent in the southern seas, specifically the Drake Passage. One more sighting was accomplished on the 4th of May; after that, worse weather descended upon them. Three days later, from dead-reckoning calculations, Worsley told Shackelton he could not be sure of their position within 10 miles.

      I step outside to walk my trails up behind the house. It rained last night and this time of the year the organic mass of leaves and such just gushes from the trees; the ground. Water is still dripping periodically from the canopy as a trailing mist slowly drifts through the understory. I interrupt various birds in their morning routine; Robins are prevalent as are the LBB's. The ubiquitous Raven sails by, and I finally spy the owl I heard a few mornings ago. The trails begin to take the shape of tunnels as the foliage thickens, their shafts and stalks bowed, assisted by the weight of the rain. I think of early mankind and try to imagine their inherent intimacy with the land; the weather.

      The history of navigation is mostly a story of trying to find our way at sea. This study will explore the three main arenas mankind has historically had to deal with; land, sea, and air.

      

    

    

    

Cascade

          "For the word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit, and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. And there is no creature hidden from his sight, but all things are naked and open to the eyes of him to whom we must give account."  Hebrews 4: 12 and 13



       There is a cascading effect that occurs, pretty much all the while I'm awake, although typically stronger in the early morning; a cascade of thought that spills out and flows over my shoulders and down through my arms and is supposed to exit my hand, specifically my right hand and ideally through a pen.
 
       This doesn't always happen.

       Too often my hands are off doing something else; usually something I feel is more important, and sometimes things they ought not to be doing. I imagine how it would be if my thoughts were colored and visible; giggling and glowing, like little children, twinkling with excitement at the prospect of becoming immortal. Because that's the goal of thought, you know; to be remembered. They need to be captured and inscribed somewhere and passed on somehow until they become entwined in other's imagination.

       It's the perfect storm; this proper alignment of flowing thought and free time and ready hands and a functioning pen that I seek, and find mostly in the early a.m. In this respect I am selfish, coveting my time to do this; thinking and writing helps me figure things out. 

       Truth be known, we're all wanna-be authors; we all want our platform and 15 minutes (or more) of fame; we all want to be heard (and liked). I personally want to shake up your thought and, like a farmer, plant and spread a bit of mine around (kinda like manure) and have you mull it over.

       I really feel the written word is the best way to go about this. I have a lot to say; it would be impossible for me to tell and for you to hear it all at once. With a book, you can take as much of me as you'd like, then push me away when you've had enough. I've already done my part; all you need to do is reach in and stir it up now and again.

       But who really cares about thought, my thoughts in particular; aren't there more important things to consider? Well, isn't that thought? And where do all things: ideas, projects, proposals, business deals, etc; decisions good or bad on anything come from? They all begin with a thought. Before any plan or idea can be put to paper, it first must be conjured up in the mind; thus thought is important.

       And here I am, thinking about thought.

       The Holy Scriptures, by their very nature, are full of wonderful, unusual thought; some inviting, some convicting, but always descriptive and real. In the Psalms, David speaks of, "...the beauties of holiness from the womb of the dawn." It's surreal thought such as this that makes me want to cry. I've read the Word a bit in the past and now daily and it never disappoints. The more I read the more I want to read. And now it's not just reading. It's deep reading, studying, cross-references and asking questions; writing about it seems to solidify notions, and aren't notions the beginning of thought?

       As usual, when I'm in a contemplative mood, I wander outside to check on "my" stars; all in order. The night sky is clear and I realize I have an unimpeded view of the heavens; I feel as if I'm standing on the edge of it all. Air flows like water and encapsulates my body. I can feel the cold of the distant stars; the planets; the greater cosmos, plunging across through millions and billions of space/time units to this small, seemingly insignificant planet, the only place we know of with such a fine example of vigorous life.

        Why do we think?  And from where do we get our thought? It surely has to do with our consciousness; our life experiences. We're aware; of ourselves but also of Something that defies comprehension. Stand outside when it's dark and clear. Look up; count the stars. How many are there? How did they get there? Where is there and how far away is it? How much further does it go? What are space and time? Why are space and time space and time? Exactly how did they obtain these qualities and how and why are they sustained? I find the classroom setting and textbook answers incomparable to the natural Teacher.

       The modern world seems to argue and fret over answers and reasons and solutions for and to this and that and rarely stops to consider that God just might be real. And since He made all this, there is a reason for things being the way they are. Just because we don't understand some things does not diminish the truth; and indeed, God exists outside of our admission. 

       You're beginning to see why you'll need to push me away at times and why I write. In the end, it helps me to realize that His thoughts are not my thoughts; His ways are not my ways. Don't be so quick to believe we know it all.

       Now, where's my pen?


       Quotation from Psalm 110

   Scott A. Lewis, Wallace, Idaho.   

Be.

            "I can be that riverbed through which the love of Christ flows" - Sonia Lewis


       I try to put it all together, but (at times) it makes no sense; perhaps it's the lens through which I'm viewing it. My mind spins around moments and insights, with eager desire and yearning, to make sense, to find a reason to be, accepted; snapshots and glimpses from obscure, forgotten childhood to happenings quite recent; why, and why now?

       Some things are only realized and contemplated on this side of yesterday.

       It's a natural desire to want to be; significant, to matter. We consider and believe this life, this glorious life as special, important. Each time a new life enters the world there is a spark of the original creation, and that little spark can grow to affect the entire world. The question shouldn't be - 'Why am I here?', but rather - 'What can I do while I'm here?'

       A strong wind beckons me outside; as always, I cannot resist. The cold snow drifts in unusual places; not often we get a strong NE snowstorm. This must be the downstream effect of that lobe of Arctic air that hit northern Minnesota last week; winters last big breath.

       One of the most amazing characteristics of God is that through his grace he loves me unconditionally. And my human sense of worthlessness upon failure (again!), is not what God would have me be or feel. The sooner I realize this inherent sin nature in mankind, the sooner I can accept it, and go on to live the life Christ intends for me.

       This recognition of the commonality of our human condition, of sin in all our lives, should bring us to pray for our leaders, our pastors, all men and people of God, and ultimately for ourselves. If none of us gets out unscathed, and, as the body of believers, we're all in this together, what shall we do about this? Run and hide? Better to get up and fight.

You're not done.

       Do or do not; there is no try - Yoda




      We're all released into this life in unique ways; the biblical imagery of seeds, dandelion in my case, or tadpoles or baby chicks, all darting about or carried by the wind, are strong parallels.

       But after drifting for a while, after darting around a bit, we begin to realize just how big it all is and the importance of life; our own and others.

        What we do does matter. How we live our lives, how we finish, is telling; of what we've discovered in this life.

       The final fight, the overall fight is truly one of self. Jesus said if I want to be his disciple, I must deny that self, take up my cross, and follow him. I must first see; then decide; to do, then what to do. Finally, I must act.

       And then I'm still not done. There's a constant reassessment, adjustment, and refining to this living and how I treat others. It's not easy to alter behavior ingrained since youth.

       But try, no, do I must. The attempt is important and God knows my heart, but I have, along with my free will, amazing power and promises in Scripture; I must use them. Strive to be still in His presence and realize he's moving in and through all our lives and those around us.


       Scott Lewis, spring '19

What is truth? pt 2

       You would think defining truth to be a simple matter, and basically, it is. Find what is real, something you can believe in and be done. This could maybe work if you were the only one alive. If there are two or more people, disagreement will exist. There will always be issues, whether it's between individuals, families, factions or nations. Of course, we can't or won't or shouldn't stop trying; "Let us reason (argue, settle the matter, etc) together..."

       Perhaps it boils down to our perception of it; truth, anything really. Consider your life. Do you view it as an opportunity or a form of incarceration? We tend to think much of and about ourselves; realize there are over 7.5 billion others doing pretty much the same thing. What makes you different? And why are you here? A seemingly quantum leap, although natural; we need to know and settle within ourselves just why we are here, let alone how and when it all began. And why is there anything at all rather than nothing? All other issues pale in the light of these basic questions. Can they be answered with any confidence?

       The main problem is compounded not only by our asking whether absolute/objective truth even exists (it does) but also with our inability (unwillingness?) to agree on the source of truth. No matter what I may present as "my" truth, if you disagree with my point of view, you're not only disagreeing with me, but with the source itself. That doesn't make something true or untrue; the only variable is mankind and his reasoning. But why is all of this so important?

       We all have faith or put our trust in something; to what end? Does it benefit humanity as a whole or is it self serving? And is it a sound investment? What do we hope to gain; control, over our lives? Safety, emotionally or physically? Financial security?

       Peace for one, immortality for another. Death is coming; more truth. The only thing we can know in this life with any certainty is that one day we will all physically die. We hear and read and see our fellow man doing this. Most do not think about let alone contemplate this; we don't know what lies on the other side and are innately afraid. We need to be saved from death; eternal death.

       I look for hope in what I have faith in, and find much of it, especially in our natural surroundings. To me, science and nature have always confirmed and glorified God, proving His existence, not disputing it. So instead of asking why we are here, let's first consider when and how it all/we came to be, here in this space and place in time.