Lights and Compasses
It was so dark nothing was visible but the
compass card under the red glow of the binnacle at the wheel. No stars. No moon.
No lights on the horizon. Just the red glow and the round card suspended on its
garnet bearing, remaining stationary as the boat found its way toward Baltimore
on the Chesapeake Bay one winter night long ago.
There was hardly any wind, so the boat moved
forward slowly and without sound. No waves lapped the hull. No creaking spars.
Just silence and utter black all round.
353º was our compass course, very carefully
worked out with chart, parallel rules, and dividers. 353º would take us under
the center span of the Bay Bridge at 3:15 a.m. if everything went well. All that
was necessary to reach our destination was to steer the boat at 353º a few more
hours.
The lights of a southbound ship hove into view to
starboard, making me wonder if we might be too far west. The ship was moving
quickly and soon was out of sight on its way to the open sea.
I checked the compass again. 353º
Night on the water is unlike night ashore. When
the moon and stars are hidden by thick clouds, darkness closes in like a winter
sea closes over a sinking ship, pouring in through every opening where once was
light, extinguishing each glimmer like water extinguishes a candle’s flame,
snuffing out all vision till there is nothing but blackness through which only
imagination can see. Eyes are useless.
All that could be seen was the round card under
its glass dome, crimson-tinted markings round its edge, the lubbers line holding
at 353º.
Steady at the wheel. Not too much to the right.
Not too much to the left. Straight ahead and hope the magnetic field around the
binnacle doesn’t shift before we reach our hoped for destination.
I heard of a fellow sailing a catamaran to
Jamaica several years ago. It seems his mate put a pair of kitchen scissors in a
drawer that slid beneath the companion hatchway, just below where the compass
binnacle was mounted in the cockpit. They sailed by what the compass told them,
ignoring the stars. They had no electronic directional equipment to guide them.
This was long before Loran, Sat-Nav, and GPS navigation systems. After all,
Jamaica is a very large island. Hard to miss. They departed St.Croix and
expected to reach Jamaica in record time with a strong wind from the north
giving them a fast broad reach. When the hour computed for arrival came and
went, they laughed at themselves for misjudging their speed, but when another
two hours passed and then six more they knew they had a problem. Using an
inexpensive plastic sextant they were able to work their position not far from
the Cuban coast, too far north by far. The scissors threw the compass off, their
only guide across the sea. They trusted the compass, as good sailors should, but
the magnetic field was distorted by the scissors … a circumstance that could
have ended in disaster.
Many today seem confident in the compass of good
intentions to guide our nation to prosperity and to secure liberty and justice
for our people. Many see their independent sense of morality as a compass that
must guide our ship of state and teach our children how to live. Many are
convinced if we could only teach our youth to honor family values once more, to
put away rebellious attitudes, to apply themselves to study and labor like their
parents and grandparents pride themselves in doing – then all would be better.
We’d see the change most of us agree is needed in these troubled times.
Some blame popular music, drugs, and the occult
for our present distancing from "traditional values". They believe if
we could do away with these things, all would soon be well, and our problems
would magically disappear.
Others say we need to spend more money on
welfare, while another camp says we’re spending too much already.
Many say a renewed faith in God is all we need to
find our way in this troubled world. More churches. More Bibles. More converts.
We all seem to agree on the hoped-for
destination, but we don’t seem to agree on how to get there. And, of course,
nearly all agree we are veering dangerously off course.
We argue about what our compass should be. Who
should be responsible to adjust its magnets so the readings will be accurate and
trustworthy? Where shall the compass be mounted and who shall attend to the
wheel? What security measures should be taken to insure a pair of scissors isn’t
placed too near? How much should we spend to fund an agency to make certain our
compass gives constant readings? How will the standards be established and by
whom?
What sort of compass will we use? What will we
rely upon to find our way?
How do we avoid these differences of opinion that
repeatedly displace us a bit too much to the right, a bit too much to the left,
so we steer our course uncertainly, never able to agree which is the perfectly
proper course that will guide us to our destination?
Where does public opinion stop and absolute
certainty begin?
We sailed on that night, trusting our compass.
The steady card proved a reliable guide in the darkness. Our helmsman kept us
true to its direction. (Good steering always helps, for the best compass cannot
correct for an erratic helmsman.) We sailed blind but for that north-seeking
compass card illuminated by the red glow of the binnacle.
A little earlier than expected we saw a flashing
light dead ahead, right off the bow as we had hoped. A white flash every four
seconds, just as the chart promised.
At last we knew we’d been on course. We’d
reached our destination. From the bridge into Baltimore’s harbors there is no
difficulty navigating, for there are numerous lighted buoys to show the way.
Yet, until we saw that four second flashing light we were not sure where we
were. We could not know for certain our compass could be trusted or that our
helmsman had been true to his charge and held our course steady at 353º.
When the flashing light came into view, however,
we knew both our compass and our steering were accurate. Until that moment, we
were operating solely on faith, for the compass alone can never tell a sailor
exactly where he’ll end up. Until we saw the light, we trusted the compass but
were never quite sure we were on course. But, when the light finally came
clearly into view we were assured our course was correctly sailed. We knew our
navigation was good.
Perhaps a vision this nation needs is to know the
difference between the light that marks a successful journey and the compasses
we trust to get us there.
We have too many compasses, after all. Each
separate interest group is guided by its own concept of direction. Each
religious order, each political faction, each minority so-called. All have
compasses of different manufacture, some pulled a bit too much to the right,
some pulled a bit too much to the left, each obeying different forces.
People use whatever compass they believe will
guide them to the destination they seek for themselves. That’s human nature.
Many, however, wander aimlessly in the dark because their compasses are faulty.
They believe their way is right. They insist that their collective moral vision
is best for everyone. They demand that their dream of prosperity is appropriate
for all and that their hope for the future of mankind is what the future really
wants and needs.
All the while a light flashes far ahead … a
light we too often cannot see until we find it in the darkness … a light that
proves our compasses or finds them faulty.
When will we the American people look beyond our
private compasses to see the light that alone can tell us when we’ve reached
our hoped for destination?
When will we agree what that light that marks our
destination is?
When will we confess that our individual
compasses are different, guided by too many variations of public opinion, too
many arguments between political and religious factions, and far too many
compromises to ever insure the steady accuracy compasses are needed to provide?
What is the light that proves our navigation?
What is the light that lets us know we are on
course?
Our compasses cannot tell us. Our compasses
wander. Compasses are too easily deviated by outside forces, ideas that command
the moment, private theories of reform, changing public opinions, kaleidoscopic
moral values.
How do we know when we’ve safely reached our
goal?
Compasses cannot assure us. All our compasses can
do is keep us more or less to a proper course, a bit too much to the right, a
bit too much to the left, never so accurate as the light we finally see when we’ve
sailed our course well.
Perhaps it’s time to test our compasses by the
light we seek together as a people.
Perhaps it’s time we look to the lamp upheld in
New York’s harbor and be willing to check our compasses by its steady glow in
all our hearts … the light on which we all agree.
Justice is the lamp of liberty.
Without it we can never find our way.
No compass will commend us to liberty if we
refuse to lift the lamp of human justice higher so all can see. No public
opinion polls will guide us to prosperity. No personal freedom is possible if we
deny the light to those whose lives remain in darkness still. No helmsman can
steer us safely forward for the sake of our children’s hopes if all he has to
guide him is a little round card that rotates in a clear glass bubble illumined
by an uncertain crimson glow.
What we need is light.
If you want peace and liberty for your children,
teach them about justice.
Teach your children the rules.
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