As a pastor for over 25 years, I have seen many people experience hardship in life. Some pass through the storm, coming out the other side with an even stronger faith in Christ. Others shipwreck and walk away from Christ and His Church entirely. What makes the difference? Spiritual ballast. To understand what I mean, let me tell you a story about an explorer who almost died.
Ernest Shackleton was a skilled captain and explorer in the early 1900s. Among the most heroic sea voyages ever successfully navigated was the one led by Shackleton in May of 1916 across the Drake Passage, a treacherous portion of the southern oceans joining the Atlantic and Pacific. Many regard this as the most dangerous swath of water on the planet. Yet Shackleton and five fellow sailors somehow managed successfully to cross it with only a compass, the stars, and the scarcest of provisions, even as the Antarctic winter fast approached. Making it all the more daring, their vessel was a 22-foot wooden lifeboat that had been salvaged from their main ship.
This was Shackleton’s third quest to the Antarctic continent. This time, his goal was to traverse the continent and cross over the South Pole. As with his two previous expeditions, this one would also end in failure. Yet, as many have noted, there was never a more successful failure in all of history.[1]
The “failure” began in January 1915 when The Endurance, their expedition ship, became trapped in ice forming in the Weddell Sea, only a few miles from their planned departure point on the continent. Eventually, the crew had to abandon The Endurance, which was subsequently crushed under the pressure and weight of the surrounding ice. This led to months of lonely exile on the floating ice during which the 28-man crew had to endure the lightless Antarctic winter. As the ice drifted north and began to open, Shackleton and his men felt that a few islands off the coast of Antarctica were reachable by boat. They set sail in three salvaged lifeboats and after a week made landfall on Elephant Island, a tiny spit of land at the tip of the Antarctic Peninsula. It was a victory of sorts, but the crew was tired, hungry, and cold; their survival remained tenuous. And they were still a sea away from the safety of civilization.
It was quickly determined that the closest reachable (using the term loosely) outpost was a whaling station on South Georgia Island from which they had departed more than a year earlier. It was more than 800 miles away and on the opposite side of the dreaded Drake Passage.
The men readied the tattered lifeboat determined to be the most seaworthy. Without a doubt, the most important preparation for their journey was laying ballast stones in the bottom of the vessel that had been gathered from the island. Ballast is heavy material such as gravel, sand, rocks, iron, lead, or even water that is placed low in a vessel to improve its stability and prevent it from capsizing in the open sea. Even though it meant taking up precious space that might otherwise have been used to store provisions or protect the sailors from the bitter cold, howling winds and icy precipitation, Shackleton knew ballast was not something that could be compromised.
Amazingly, Shackleton and his men were successful. They made it to South Georgia Island.
As a pastor and ministry leader, I have long been fascinated by Shackleton’s story, and no part is more interesting to me than their navigation of the Drake Passage. To be sure, God’s kind providence shined upon them. Yet it is also certain that they would never have been successful without the leadership of Shackleton, the skill of their navigator, and the tireless efforts of the remaining crew.
But even these were not enough. At one point during the journey, the sea became especially stormy. Shackleton wrote about it in his journal,
At midnight I was at the tiller and suddenly noticed a line of clear sky between the south and south-west. I called to the other men that the sky was clearing, and then a moment later I realized that what I had seen was not a rift in the clouds but the white crest of an enormous wave.[2]
This wave, known as a Cape Horn Roller, whose heights can sometimes reach more than 100 feet, was larger than any Shackleton had seen. He noted that the boat was “lifted and flung forward like a cork in breaking surf.”[3] What enabled their boat to stay upright? Ballast. Those heavy stones lining the bottom of their vessel were the stuff of their salvation.
It’s impossible to know for sure, but I think it’s likely that Paul had something like ballast[4] in mind when he wrote to the Ephesians,
And he gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, so that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes (Eph. 4:11-14).
This passage is foundational to the work of ministry leaders, who, Paul explains, have been charged with equipping believers to carry out the “work of ministry.” Paul also notes a preventative measure that derives from this work. He asserts that sound doctrine is a fundamental, stabilizing force in the Christian’s life, which protects the Christian from being tossed about by the angry waves of this world that churn and crash. According to Paul, without sound doctrine and the corresponding fruit of maturity, Christians are susceptible to dangerous teachers practicing craftiness and trickery, which are the genesis of those turbulent waters.
In our contemporary, social media-saturated, and radically pluralistic age, I can think of few things more important for the Christian’s formation than having ballast. Indeed, Christians must be able to discern true and Christ-filled doctrines, those born of the Word of God, from wayward and destructive doctrinal winds that arise hither and thither from the cultural moment’s latest celebrity preacher.
Sound doctrine: the Christian ballast
While there is certainly more to what Paul envisions, it is not less than those benefits stemming from a Reformed and Biblical systematic theology. Theologian John Murray writes, “The task of systematic theology is to set forth in orderly and coherent manner the truth respecting God and His revelations to men and the world.” I would argue implicit in this task is the summons to Christian maturity that Paul writes about in Ephesians 4. When Christians are equipped with sound teaching that’s centered on Jesus Christ and rooted in His Word, they will grow up into “mature manhood, to the full measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ.”[5] Theologian Kevin Vanhoozer captures this applied element in his definition of the task of theology when he writes, “Doctrine is direction for the fitting participation of individuals and communities [the Church] in the drama of redemption.”[6]
Where can we find ballast?
Knowing how to apply Biblical doctrine to every area of life can seem overwhelming. Thankfully, however, that task is not before us. In fact, in both the creeds of the Church and the countless volumes of theology that have been handed down to us throughout church history, we have multiple iterations to help us in this work.
What is more, as those who happily inhabit the Reformed and Presbyterian stream of Protestantism, our particular inheritance is the beautifully Biblical and remarkably timely expression of the system of doctrine contained in the Scriptures known to us as The Westminster Standards. This confession was formulated in the middle of the 17th century and is currently subscribed to by every officer in the Presbyterian Church in America.
Make no mistake, the church’s relationship to The Westminster Standards is both important and complicated. This article is not the place for a deep dive into either the particularities or conflictual aspects of that discussion. Suffice it to say, at times the Standards can be revered so much that they are treated as having the same level of authority as the Scriptures. Ironically, when we do, we fail to heed the wisdom provided for us in the Confession, which notes, “All synods or councils, since the Apostles’ times, whether general or particular, may err; and many have erred. Therefore, they are not to be made the rule of faith or practice; but to be used as a help in both” (WCF 31.4).
At the other extreme, however, is indifference. Some are tempted to dismiss the Standards’ insights as dusty relics or products of a bygone age with little relevance for the church today. This conclusion is lamentable and indicates how our professed theological confession has gotten dangerously separated from our ministry practice in the church and life. Indeed, if the Standard’s value is reduced to screening for the orthodoxy of ordinands in credentialing committees, then its application to the wider church has likely already been lost.
What does ballast provide?
Lying between these extremes, however, is a positive role for the Standards. A clear, biblical, and systematic formulation of Christian doctrine gives believers stability amidst an ever-changing world and wisdom for living out a Christ-honoring and fitting response to this world. Let’s consider both.
A) Stability
By stability, I refer to the most immediate benefit of ballast. The basic purpose of ballast is to prevent capsizing, whether due to stormy seas, top-heavy rigging, or excess cargo stored in the higher decks of the ship. Ballast provides anchorage within the boat.
In the same way, a ready summary of Christian doctrine provides anchorage for the Christian amidst this tumultuous world by giving us clear and Biblical answers to the question, “What do we believe?” That is not merely one question either, but many: What do we believe about God? What do we believe about ourselves? For what reason(s) do we have dignity? What do we believe about this world? What do we believe about what’s right and what’s wrong? By the way, what is wrong with this world, and what’s wrong with me? Where are we going? And when are we going to get there?
Of course, there are still many more questions needing to be asked and answered. How can we not ask them? The blessing of the Confessional Standards, however, is that our Christian forebears asked these same questions and provided us with excellent answers, all of which are carefully informed by God’s inerrant Word. In case you’ve forgotten, there are 33 chapters in the Westminster Confession of Faith, 196 questions and answers in The Larger Catechism, and 107 questions and answers in The Shorter Catechism. The Standards are nothing if not thorough!
As noted earlier too, even in the first century Paul was concerned that believers might get tossed about due to false teaching. How much more important is this concern today when Christians are consuming vast hours of social media, political commentary, and incessant digital marketing? [7]. All of these are staking out their claim of truth, demanding our allegiance, and reducing our capacity to reason clearly. [8] Now more than ever before, it’s essential that Christians be saturated with both a knowledge of the Scriptures and the doctrines they pronounce.
This is also why Paul regards maturity in doctrine as a fundamental qualification for future leaders in the church. He writes to his apprentice, Titus, “He must hold firm to the trustworthy word as taught, so that he may be able to give instruction in sound doctrine and also to rebuke those who contradict it” (Titus 1:9). Precisely for this reason, for 19 years as the pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church in San Antonio, I led our future officers and ministry leaders through the Confession of Faith not primarily because of ordination requirements, but because its language is so deeply Biblical and pastoral. Friends, the theological dashboard warning light is on once more, reminding us just how important is ballast in the Christian life. So, let’s start gathering “stones of truth” found in the Scriptures and line the bottoms of our boats with them.
B) Wisdom for a fitting response
Doctrinal clarity, however, is only one-half of this discussion. In the early church, the role of theology was never just about informing the mind or arriving at a neat and orderly account of the Bible’s ideas. According to St. Augustine, the task of knowing is divided between knowledge, the inquiry of those things temporal or scientia, and wisdom, the contemplation of things eternal or sapientia.[9] At a bare minimum, Augustine signals that theology is never a mere theoretical activity or categorization of data, but ought to promote, aid, and align the Christian’s life in devotion to God and His eternal purpose for this world. The telos or end of Christian theology is not only to inform but to transform the life of the believer.[10]
This secondary aspect, which is by no means less important or less Biblical, corresponds with VanHoozer’s definition noted earlier that doctrine provides direction for the Christian’s fitting participation in God’s unfolding Kingdom purpose. This fitting response is what we refer to as Biblical wisdom.[11] Wisdom, then, is how the Christian puts theological conviction to work in the midst of present-day factors and constraints.
That effort calls to mind one of the fascinating aspects of the preparation Shackleton and his men made for the journey across the Drake Passage. Their uncompromised position on ballast stones introduced certain limitations that restricted the amount of water, food, and clothing they might have otherwise taken. More importantly, it meant that there would be less space underneath the thin strip of canvas that stretched across the front of the boat, protecting them from the elements. Listen to how biographer Alfred Lansing describes the discomfort the ballast stones made for the travelers:
They realized from the very beginning that even sleeping had a special brand of unpleasantness all its own. The sleeping bags were located in the bow, nominally the driest part of the boat. To reach them involved a tortuous crawl on hands and knees over the rocks (ballast) in the bottom. The closer the man got to the bow, the more restricted the space became, until finally he had to get down on his belly and slither forward, insinuating himself between the underside of the seats and the ballast.[12]
The point worth observing is that Shackleton’s choice to bring along 2,000 pounds of ballast affected the crew. They had to adjust to the ballast and the uncomfortable restraints it introduced. When compared to the possibility of failure, however, that was a small price to pay.
Similarly, when the Christian commits himself to the Bible’s clear teaching, no matter the topic or issue, certain practical implications are bound to follow. What is more, at times those implications will run afoul of personal preferences, culturally accepted norms, or both. To name only one example, this tension can be clearly seen today in the never-ending debates regarding sexuality, gender identity, and the meaning of marriage. I agree with you; these debates can be exhausting. But they are not without substance. The Scriptures and our theological Standards speak clearly to these issues. Though we might wish that the Biblical and traditional view of sexuality were more attractive to more people in this cultural moment, throwing out the ballast stones of Scriptural authority, Biblical anthropology, and Christian soteriology is short-sighted. Inevitably, it will shipwreck our own lives and any we seek to lead. Though unpopular and, at times, uncomfortable, it is better to wisely adjust our lives to Biblical authority so that we might offer a fitting response in this cultural moment.
Having the capacity to identity and make those wise adjustments is also why the Confessional Standards are so helpful They are not just packed with theological insights, but practical wisdom that orients the Christian to precisely these sorts of issues. Though the language might be unfamiliar at first, the extended discussion on the wise application of The Ten Commandments (LC 91-148; SC 39-82) and prayer (LC 178-196; SC 98-107) in the Larger and Shorter Catechisms are excellent guides for how the ballast of Scriptural truth illuminates and ought to shape the Christian’s heart and habits in this world. We ignore these insights to our peril.
If successfully crossing the Drake Passage weren’t enough, when Shackleton and his crew landed on South Georgia island, their mission was not over. They were on the opposite side of the island from the whaling station. Three of the crew then had to hike in the dark over precarious, snowy mountains that bisected the island (another part of this incredible story). Eventually though, they made it to Stromness whaling station. From there, a Chilean vessel was secured, and the remaining men on Elephant Island were rescued. All 28 men survived the ordeal. Yet how important was ballast for the most dangerous part of the journey.
Surely, we must never replace the authority of the Scriptures with any manmade creed, no matter how comprehensive or sublime. At the same time, however, I know of no other theological creed given to us in history that provides more ballast than The Westminster Standards.
No matter how carefully we attempt to navigate our course through life, storms will always arise. Inevitably, these moments shrink our field of view, stir fear in our hearts, and expose the foundations upon which we depend. In the severest of hardships, storms can strip away everything except the core beliefs to which we hold.
If we don’t have something rock solid — ballast — in the bottom of the boat, something we’ve known for years and have developed through prayer, Bible study and meditating upon the truth, then our faith can capsize because it wasn’t weighty enough to stabilize us amidst the stormy waves. So then, let’s study, teach, and celebrate our core doctrines as taught in the Westminster Standards. These are gifts to the church and ought to be passed on to the next generation of believers and ministry leaders.
Tom Gibbs is the president of Covenant Theological Seminary.
[1] Patricia Brennan, “Shackleton’s Successful Failure,” The Washington Post, 3/24/2002, accessed 8/2/2022, https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/lifestyle/tv/2002/03/24/shackletons-successful-failure/4c72b4b9-da9f-4bc4-93cc-ed4626d79509/.
[2] Ernest Shackleton, South!: The Story of Shackleton’s Last Expedition 1914-1917. (n.p.: American History Classics, 2017), 149.
[3] Shackleton, South, 149.
[4] To ballast, steerage can be added. Cf. F. F. Bruce, The Epistles to the Colossians, to Philemon, and to the Ephesians. The New International Commentary on the New Testament, Edited by F. F. Bruce, (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmanns, 1984), 351.
[5] John Murray, “Systematic Theology,” Collected Writings of John Murray 4: Studies in Theology. (Philadelphia: The Banner of Truth Trust, 1982), 1.
[6] Kevin Vanhoozer, The Drama of Doctrine: A Canonical-Linguistic Approach to Christian Theology. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2005), 102.
[7] Peter Succiu, “Americans Spent On Average More Than 1,300 Hours On Social Media Last Year,” Forbes.com, 6/24/21, accessed 7/29/22, https://www.forbes.com/sites/petersuciu/2021/06/24/americans-spent-more-than-1300-hours-on-social-media/?sh=764f2e442547.
[8] Jonathan Haidt, “Why the Past Ten Years Have Been Uniquely Stupid,” The Atlantic, May 2022, accessed 7/29/22, https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2022/05/social-media-democracy-trust-babel/629369/.
[9] St. Augustine, On the Trinity. (trans. Arthur W. Hadden in A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church [ed. Philip Schaff, 8 vols., First Series, St. Augustine; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1956]), the distinction elucidated in Book XII, Ch. 14.
[10] Vanhoozer, Drama, 255.
[11] Vanhoozer, Drama, 13, 21, 252ff.
[12] Alfred Lansing, Endurance: Shackleton’s Incredible Voyage. (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1959; New York: Basic Books, 2014), 283.