Dear Church community, dear friends, the grandparents' package arrived on time. Excited, the children unwrap a big object. A long flat wooden block, in the middle erected a mast with three cross beams. It is not sails attached to it, but small tin buckets and colorful bags, 24 in number. A ship, fully loaded! Now the children have also discovered the map. "Dear grandchildren," the grandmother writes, "now you are already older. That's why your advent calendar looks different than usual this time. Every day you will find a word that God wants to tell you. It's the best we have. That is what we want to give you. Because we love you. Now don't make long faces. There's still a little thing that comes with it, something sweet, a toy or a bit of money. And beware: Take turns nicely!" Every morning the children run to their Advent ship. Tear up paper. Unpack chewing gum, a tiny flashlight, a doll. And a note with a saying. It is sometimes read in the evening or the next day. And quickly forgotten again. But it also happens that the words immediately touch the young reader. "Listen, Mum," he says, "what's here. God says to you, "You are wonderfully made! Don’t you agree?" There comes a ship, loaded. The love of the grandparents can be grasped with hands. The children also understand that Grandma and Grandpa want to pass on to them what is important to them. God's Word. Food for the soul. The children do not always like adult food. But sometimes
there is a word that touches and strengthens them. Like Grandma and Grandpa, they understand in the moment, that is how God loves me. There is a ship. His arrival is tied to longings. On board is long-awaited cargo. Saturating grain, precious spices, noble woods. Letters with messages from distant relatives. The crew. The friend who goes to the sea, the lover, the husband. The ship connects what was separated. It's between the worlds. From a far, namely the 15th century, the Advent and Christmas song “Es kommt ein Schiff geladen� also comes to us. There comes a ship loaded to his' highest board, bears God's Son with graces, the Father's et/ernal word. The ship goes quietly in the shoot, it carries an' expensive load; the sail is love, the Holy Spirit the Mast. The anchor is on earth, there is the ship on land.
The word becomes flesh, the Son is sent to us. Born in Bethlehem in the stable a precious child, is given up for us; It must be praised. And who wants to embrace, to kiss this child with joy must suffer with him as well great torture and torment, then die with him and spiritually be born anew, to inherit eternal life, as it is with him. Mary, God's Mother, You have to be praised. Jesus is our brother, the dear little child you raised.
Strange and familiar the melody, old and mysterious the words. Each stanza is divided into two parts. As if on gentle waves, the ship rocks in the first part. The tones explore the depth. In the second half, the travelers set their feet back on shore. They walk forth vigorously and cheerfully. Climb up from the harbor to the city with the melody and then return to the deep opening tone, as if into the ship's belly. Since ancient times, the ship has been a symbol of the encounter between two worlds. Sea and land, heaven and earth, God and humans. The song allows several interpretations. It has been sung as a Marian song. Mary, the pregnant woman, is like a ship. It carries an expensive burden. God sends the most precious, the best he has: His Son. His declaration of love to us. His eternal word. What God says is reliable. He doesn't just say, I love you. He sends us a human being. Jesus. The friend who walks with us through our life. In the ship the early Christians also saw a picture for the church. It symbolizes the building where we meet. It also symbolizes the community of people that travel with Jesus. But we can also regard the soul of every single Christian as a ship. Quietly it drifts away. When the wind blows strongly, it gets faster. Love is the sail. It catches the wind power so that we can gain momentum. Love keeps our life ship going. Love is
movement, outwardly and within. We go one with the other. We want to know what moves the other, laugh and mourn with him or her, anger and hope, hike and rest. The poet C.F. Meyer describes it this way: Two sails illuminating The deep blue bay! Two sails swelling Toward quiet escape!: Like one in the winds Curves and moves, Will the feeling also One by the other aroused. One desiring to haste, The other too goes fast, One requiring rest, Resting also his company. Like one sail by the other, God allows himself to be moved by us. God deeply cares about us. He takes part in our destiny. That is why he sent us Jesus. He hears the blind man's cry for help from Jericho: “Son of David, have mercy on me”. He gives in to the mothers' request: “Bless our children!” He fulfils the hope of the royal official,
whose son is seriously ill. “Lord, come down before my child dies!� The course that our life ship takes is not set once and for all. We can take Jesus on board. This does not protect us from the storms. But it helps to get through them. And if the wind gets too strong? As might have been the case this past year 2020? Then I have to take down the sails, otherwise my ship capsizes. Sometimes I have no strength to love. Feel abandoned by God and man, disappointed, unable to control my boat. But even if the sails are folded - the mast is still standing. The Holy Spirit says our song. Unexpectedly, God's power works in us. The comforter who raises us up. The mast looks like a cross when the sail is lowered. Or like a man with outstretched arms. He reminds us: Jesus goes with us. He can command the wind to be still and calm the waves. The ship connects two worlds: heaven and earth. God is casting anchors in our world. He abides with us. Strengthens our hearts so that we do not perish. Even if the waves hit high. God's creative Word, which has brought everything into life - this word has become man itself. Born of Mary. Wrapped in diapers. Housed in a stable. But this is not a cute picture. Embracing the child does not mean hiding the suffering. The child is born while in transit with his parents, and soon he has to flee. The child will always be close to the lost, to those who have not yet found an anchorage, to those who have no loved one, and no trust
in themselves and neither in God. It is precisely to them that God sends His Son. Food for the soul contains the Advent ship, God's word and sweets and small gifts. Provisions for the journey of life. When we have Jesus on board, we are cared for. I learned about a trip overseas at the German Marine Museum Bremerhaven. A four-master in the 19th century. A cargo ship. The crew has a lot of provisions with them; the journey can take many weeks. From Hamburg around Cape Horn to Chile. The crew members don't know how long they'll be on the road. In the first week they are well looked after. Fresh fruit and vegetables, potatoes and bread. The longer the journey, the more monotonous the food becomes. Salted meat and white cabbage. Dry Ship's biscuits and stale water. Lemon juice so they don't get sick, and now and then a glass of rum for the mood. When it rains, they lay a sail flat and catch sweet water in it. Grateful who enters home soil again in the end. There are lavish and desert times. On the journey of a freight ship, in the history of a church community, in our human history and on the path of each of us. Sometimes faith offers delicious food. Then again, God's word is dry like ship's biscuit. In the event of a strong sea, we may not be able to eat anything at all. It may take us time to regain strength after a hurricane. Maybe the ship is leaking. Or we ourselves have suffered injuries. We cannot control that our faith tastes good. Or which path our lifeboat takes.
And so the song we sing is not sweet. It tells of Christmas, but it does not conceal the cross. Because it is precisely in suffering that faith and trust in God carries us! And others are with us. Together we use our food for the journey: Songs and prayers, conversation and silence and God's Word. “You are wonderfully made!� Ancient is the Christmas song of the ship. In some women's monasteries they have not only sung it, but also danced it. The quiet wave movement of the first lines. The courageous departure of the last. In singing, we bridge the hundreds of years. What we sing becomes present. There is a ship. It brings the Son of God. His living word for us. We open our hearts. For God's presence. We open our hearts. For the presence of others who celebrate Christmas together with us. Though this year not in the church as a shared place, but each in their own home. And yet, we open our hearts to each other and also to ourselves. And so, this song strengthens us. It is food for our path ahead individually and as a community. And it is also a foretaste of the joy and peace that will await us in the port at the end of our life journey. Amen.