First written Monday Evening, 26 December 2022 – updated 9 May 2023
For months, the Lord has been instructing me – gently but firmly uplifting my vision – to carefully consider concepts of size, speed, power, precision, scale, and more. He continues to turn all my science and engineering education into equations of the Spirit, and I am more grateful than I can express.
We are visual creatures, by his great and wonderful design. Our unaided optical observation (with any reasonable resolution) ranges from small details at the scale of our skin to identifying aircraft at 30,000 feet. Yet beyond that are infinitesimal and infinite, and concepts like forever and always. If we could gently blink over from the optical to another range or spectrum, what wonders appear: the immensity of molecules in a single drop of water, which rival the stars in the night sky.
In November and December, I heard the word “tsunami” used more and more, particularly describing God’s judgement, rescue and restoration. As Christmas approached with bitter cold and fierce winds, ice forming in the bay, some memories of working in Alaskan waters came to my forefront. I wasn’t (totally) surprised when the Lord pressed on me the story of the Scotch Cap lighthouse. Lighthouses and warning beacons are powerful metaphors for God’s protection and guidance, shining through the darkness and storms, ringing out warnings for safe passage.
The original lighthouse on the very southwest corner of Unimak Island, Alaska, was built in 1903, a wooden structure with a light 45 feet high. It guarded the entrance to Unimak Pass (pictured below), the easternmost open water passage in the Alaskan island chain. It is an extremely remote place, accessible only by sea, fierce, rugged and forbidding.
After many years of service, the wooden structure was replaced in 1940 with a steel-reinforced concrete structure, its light some 90 feet above the sea. Another 100 feet higher on the mountainside the Coast Guard built a radio-direction-finding beacon, along with power generators and crews housing.
During the midnight watch of April 1st, 1946, there was a massive underwater earthquake – at least 8.1 on the scale – 90 miles south of Unimak Island. The earthquake triggered a tsunami, moving 350 miles per hour, which was at least 120 feet high when it struck the rocky coast. The lighthouse was completely destroyed, and four Coastguardsmen were killed instantly.
An artist’s conception of the last moments of the lighthouse, with the tsunami bearing down upon it.
Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bid’st the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep;
O hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea.
The hymn ‘Eternal Father, Strong to Save’ was written in 1860 by William Whiting, who was inspired by Psalm 107 and its reference to ships and the sea.
Lord, help us understand what we cannot even imagine: your power and might which calms the oceans and makes them rise up, making waves that roar along at hundreds of miles an hour. Your power which stills the air or makes tornadoes or hurricanes. Your power which shakes the solid earth into trembling rubble.
Lord, in awe we ask: what will a tsunami of your Spirit look like or feel like?
Help us stand in faith through your tsunami Spirit, unimaginably fast, high and wide, spreading outward from your command like the ringing of a bell. In the peace that will follow, direct us to build again. Holy Spirit, make us each to be lighthouses, guiding and protecting through darkness and storms, our lights powered by your love.