TITANIC MANHOOD, 14 April 1912

Christian Manhood Comes by Chance - 14 April 1912


This modernity then, has taken me, finally caught
me and quite unpreached me, got me exactly where
the preachy sin hid proud of virtue from my eyes.
Nevertheless, minus one the word will survive.

My rough edge always was in a liking this most modern
way: this Titanic power - and the glamorous speed -
this sleek planet-cutting progress-high horsepower.
And I, conviction Christian, active Congregationalist,

editor of the Northern Echo and the Pall Mall Gazette,
William Thomas Stead, a tough journalist galvanized to faith
by being a prisoner of conscience in Holloway Jail,
for Christian muscling up in a public crusade against the

injustice of the privileged-profiteering in child prostitution;
a man who wrote against ‘The Maiden Tribute of Modern Babylon’,
supporter of General Booth, and his poor Salvation Army,
on my very last conceit, I took this luxury ship, the biggest,

the extreme-best vehicle of its day, the great trans-Atlantic
four-chimneyed Babel of the sea, this indestructible
Titanic ship, for humble passage while going over on a tour
to preach to the Americans on Christian Manhood!

And, this Grace in me is a revelation! Now, as the world
as we know it is sinking and this whole grievous
congregation is clamoring for some material salvation:
for boats, life rafts, for buoys, anything that floats,

for gurus or saviours to follow, and the material panic
of shifting images keeps tilting poor humans souls
to screams, to wordless moans, to wavering cries
wilder than deep seabirds. Yet, yes, I am calm.

Told there are not enough boats, surprise! This I knew,
there never are enough! And it is too late to rail against
injustice now. Can we watch as the honour of many
is broken? now, integrity is at its strains in this test.

So, then, thankful for grace, my silence, a quiet
solace of peace, nothing dramatic will be my last sermon.
Pray to God I might encourage myself with enough
among others to be a gathering of the faithful for what

we are about to receive, we who, in this life-passing hope
claim to believe: So I have humbly led with an announcement,
loud enough to penetrate the crowds' striven melee:
“I am going to the library to read a book!

I will read to any who will join me.”
And some do follow... I open the book
and begin to read those old words of others.
(I am a beginner in writing story).

“In the beginning … I was on Patmos
and I saw … A storm came. But God
was not in the storm. A sea rose, but
God was not in the sea. A dove flew,

then a wind came, but God was not
in the wind. Then a still small voice
said: Peace be still … asking. But could
you not have waited an hour with me?”

Icy death cries, curses echoed on iron walls.
The faith muscle needed us to be unflinching.
And in grace we waited, read the Word aloud till
fresh waters baptized us with an open book...


25th November 2005 © Wayne David Knoll

In memory of the martyr witness: William Thomas Stead who went down on the Titanic