A titanic refocus

This week, the BBC covered a story about the inevitable decay of the Titanic, which has been resting on the ocean floor for the past 112 years since it sank on its maiden voyage. This iconic ship has captured the imaginations of so many throughout the world, making a resurgence after the blockbuster film starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet hit theaters in 1997. Though this ship is alive and well in the minds of its admirers, the reality is slowly being reclaimed by nature, eroded by salt water and eaten away by microbes.   

As nature does what nature does scientists, historians, and enthusiasts are grappling with the question of what to salvage and what to lay to rest. Like Diana of Versailles, the bronze statue centerpiece of the first-class lounge, now lying on her back in the darkness of the ship’s debris field. Should she be exhumed and put on display in a museum or should she be left to the whims of the sea? Regardless of where they stand on this particular piece, most of the individuals with a vested interest in the Titanic are saddened by the reality that the entirety of the ship may completely deteriorate as early as 2030. 

We have a hard time letting go, which is why the philosophy of nonattachment is so prevalent in many religions, including Christianity. This philosophy centers on overcoming our emotional attachment to things, people, and worldly concerns in order to focus on what is important to God. We see this teaching when Jesus challenged the wealthy man to “sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me” (Mark 10:21, NRSVUE). The man was unable to do this because he was still too attached to his possessions, as most of us are. And if not our own possessions, perhaps aspects of our being (our hair, our muscle mass, etc.) or even a symbolic attachment like to a childhood home. For some, it is the tragic mythology of an “unsinkable ship,” which makes it difficult to let go of a decomposing, twisted metal shipwreck at the bottom of the ocean. 

We often attempt to hold on to physical, ephemeral things. We fear forgetting. Will the history of this great ship be lost once it is no longer discoverable? Will we be forgotten once our body decays? In grasping for physical permanence, what we are really grasping for is eternal life; but we are grasping at all the wrong things. Most of us will be forgotten by the world. In a few generations, our great-great grandchildren may not know our names or what we looked like. But our God’s knowledge of us is eternal. God knew us before we held substance (Psalm 139:16), and God will continue to hold us close into eternity (John 10:28).

God invites us into this nonattached, eternal refocus by stripping away all of the impermanent things of this world and fixing our eyes instead on the permanence of Jesus (Hebrews 12:2). We are shown this in the way God’s creation reclaims the old and ushers in the new, as Paul reminds us in his second letter to the Corinthians, “Everything old has passed away; look, new things have come into being!” (2 Corinthians 5:17). Accepting the passing of worldly things we hold dear is part of giving our eternal lives over to God.  

So as we watch the broken remains of the Titanic deteriorate into the oblivion of humanity’s memory, we know that those who were on board that great ship are remembered by God. And as our own bodies age and the things of this world pass away, we too may take solace in the deep knowing that we are never forgotten by God.