The Anchor

Anchor, from an early Christian sarcophagus [Roman].
(Copyright © Edward Riojas)

Copyright © Edward Riojas

I have a feeling the early Church would have viewed our present crisis as a cakewalk. Let’s be honest, few of us have been dragged from our homes and beaten, few of us have been ostracized because of our beliefs, and few of us have been tortured or crucified or worse. And toilet paper wasn’t even a thing.

The wealth of our society and the gross abundance of things has arguably clouded our eyes to the things that matter, and it is difficult for us to see beyond the things that don’t. It seems that only when faced with uncertainty do we look to the cross.

For early Christians, however, the first place they looked for hope was not the cross. The cross still had a great stigma of shame attached to it and, in spite of what many may think, it was not among the earliest Christian symbols.

The anchor preceded the crucifix, in common use, by hundreds of years. The anchor preceded even the [empty] cross by many decades. Seemingly, it takes a storm to appreciate the anchor’s existence.

With many of the apostles connected to fishing, it is no surprise many references to the Church are in nautical terms. The Church itself was commonly called “The Ship.” Parallels to the ark were also used. St. Paul’s experiences led him to refer to some as making a “shipwreck of their faith,” and men’s tongues were likened to the rudder of a ship. Indeed, the place were we sit in church is still called “the nave.”

It was, however, the writer to the Hebrews that firmly set the idea of the anchor in the Christian’s mind:

“We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever after the order of Melchizedek.” (Hebrews 6:19-20)

This is also where the anchor symbol was tied to the word “Hope.” If one reads carefully, however, that Hope is not some kind of spiritual bootstrap that we pull. Rather, it is the One who enters the Holy Place. I think it no accident that the early Christians identified with the anchor, not only because of this Scriptural reference, but also because an anchor’s structure is nothing if it is not fused with the one thing so dreaded, so shameful, and yet so blessed – the cross.

Gardening During These Days

Detail of the "Te Deum Polyptych" Edward Riojas. (Our Savior Lutheran Church, Grand Rapids, Mich.)

Copyright © Edward Riojas

One of my favorite images from the “Te Deum Polyptych,” hanging in the sanctuary of Our Savior Lutheran Church, Grand Rapids, Mich., is a small vignette of Christ pruning a cruciform vine. At first blush, it seems a nice picture of Jesus doing a bit of gardening. His grape varieties must be world class. His orchids are probably exquisite, as well. If He is the Good Shepherd and if He is the Great Physician, then certainly He is the quintessential Gardener.

There is, however, a little pile of burning branches. Some have risen their voices in recent days, suggesting that our Lord, through global events, is getting rid of the dead and decaying rot; that He is doling out Divine justice on a whole boatload of national sin. Perhaps. We certainly deserve it, not only nationally, but also individually.

But every gardener worth his salt knows that there is more to pruning. On occasion, it becomes necessary to prune healthy, leafy branches – even fruit-producing branches. This may, during these days, manifest itself in reducing our access to church, in severely limiting availability of the Divine Service, and in eliminating other things that are beneficial to us.

There is no such thing as a spiteful gardener. As with earthly gardeners, our Gardner knows what He is doing. The Lord is taking the brokenness of the world and using it to our advantage. He is doing this out of His great love for us.

Pruning is done to make a plant more robust and more healthy. It must be done periodically to make it grow in strength. Once we, the Church, have been surgically pruned, just see how much more we will thirst for the life-giving waters of our Lord! See how we will raise our heads and strain toward the saving light of the Word! Our Lord knows that we will not survive in the partial shade of ignorance and apathy; He knows we can only thrive in the full brilliance of the Son.

So take heart. The Lord is tending to our needs, He is continuing the Divine work begun when the Seed of Promise was planted in the Garden so very long ago, and it is for our eternal good.