Blessing the Fleet

I was honored when my niece and her husband, a Commodore of the Cleveland Yacht Club, asked me to Bless the Fleet as part of the Invocation opening Lake Erie to the summer season of boating, referred to as The Commissioning Service. “We think it’s time for a woman to offer the prayer since only ordained men have done it since 1878,” said my niece. Wow! Good enough for me!!

Lake Erie is the smallest and shallowest of the Great Lakes but during the War of 1812, it played a pivotal role in winning the War which was a fight for maritime rights, and against the impressment of sailors (kidnapping American sailors and forcing them into the Royal Navy), and the British support for Native American resistance on the western frontier. Ohio was the frontline for the war with American Naval forces preventing the advancement of the British who wanted access to Michigan and Canada. You may have heard of the young, fearless Commodore Oliver Hazard Perry who was victorious in decimating the more powerful British fleet at Put-In-Bay and who shouted famously: “We have met the enemy and he is ours!” 

And so, on this lovely Memorial Day I joined several hundred spectators at the Club’s meticulously landscaped outdoors surrounded by the Lake. The ritual was planned to the very minute of every detail. Past Commodores in their white trousers and white shoes, their blue jackets and white hats cut a reserved and respectful demeanor; this was a serious event. Perhaps because Lake Erie literally decided the War of 1812, the rank of Commodore is considered a privilege and an achievement in itself culminating after several years of study. 

Today’s event began with “The Lochaber’s Bagpipers” and dancers in sailors costumes. A choir led the group in patriotic songs including “The Star-Spangled Banner” and the moving Navy Hymn. There were moments to remember commodores who had passed away this year, and the military who had given their lives in all of our nation’s wars. The bugle pierced the sky with its mournful call and the cannoneer fired his two last blanks in memory of persons who never came home from war.

I was very inspired by the Fleet Captain’s guest speech which told the story of an army hero who had become his dear friend while in training. Over some 30 plus years, this soldier made a career of the army serving in more recent battles in Afghanistan and the Middle East. Last fall, overwhelmed by the tentacles of PTSD that kept him from enjoying the fullness of everything he had achieved, he took his life. Next to me sat his young daughter who silently wept. The Fleet Captain pointed out ways we can help military victims of PTSD concluding that, some battlefields continue to be fought at home.

Reflection

The week before the event, I was dancing around the house singing “Anchors Aweigh” with my little dog Lily as my chief petty officer. I was saluting my housemates (whom I always call ‘mates,’) and I was reciting every little nuance of naval lore I had read, especially about Lake Erie’s famous battles. “You’re only giving the prayer, Mary Ann,” they kindly said to which I answered, “That’s what they said to King David, and he was a victorious leader!” So off I went with Lily. If there were a meter to measure excitement, my needle would have slipped off the screen. 

But during the ceremony, I became deeply moved especially during the Fleet Captain’s reflection and that of my nephew-in-law, Commodore Philip, who said very thoughtful words like, “We are a people of privilege—and I use that word not as an accusation but as an acknowledgement. To hold membership here, to have a slip on this island, to spend a weekend on Memorial Day on Lake Erie—that is the privilege. It is a privilege earned through the hard work… made possible by something far greater than our effort.”  He went on: “Think about the twenty-year-old from Parma, or Lakewood, or Westlake who put on a uniform and walked into harm’s way. He did not do it for a membership in a yachting club. She did not do it for a view of the water. They did it because they believe that people deserve to live free.” 

I have always revered Memorial Day because of its meaning: there were one million people who died for our country since our founding as my nephew pointed out. They deserve to be remembered. My prayer was to bless the boats of Lake Erie, yes, and to remember that we can enjoy our summer and so much more of life because of the heroes who died for our freedom.

Blessing of the Fleet

Loving Creator,

We are blest to be here this day to look to the horizon and set off from the shores of our Great Lake Erie for the months to come.

Bless the boats of commerce who travel your waters for our well-being.

May all the boats of this fleet, awakened from our long northern winter, take to the water with a relish to begin again the excitement, the adventure, the joy of new discoveries that will enrich our lives this summer.

May each boat launch into the deep skimming the waves to the laughter of children and drifting in peace when the day has ended.

Creator God, shower your blessings on each boat and those who guide it.

Remind us, always, loving God, that you are the ballast of our souls, the center whose even keel will bring us safely to our port one day. We trust you and our boat to bring us there. Amen.