Light in the Darkness
I remember a story that captures our relationship toward tradition.
Understanding our progressive society's relationship with tradition is challenging. The following urban legend, which I use in the Path of Manliness book, helps illuminate the dynamic.
An American aircraft carrier was conducting night exercises in the Mediterranean. The sea was calm, but visibility was poor. As the massive ship cut through the waters, a watchman spotted a light in the distance, directly in their path.
The captain immediately ordered the communications officer to send a message: "This is the United States Navy. You are on a direct collision course with us. Alter your course 15 degrees north immediately."
After an unusually long pause, a crackling, barely intelligible reply came through: "Huh? No Mister. You changing course."
The captain looked incredulously at his communications officer. The response wasn't just defiant—it was delivered in broken English with a thick accent.
"Is this some kind of joke?" the captain asked. "Try again and make sure they understand who they're dealing with."
The communications officer sent another message: "This is Captain James Williams of the United States Navy. I repeat, alter your course immediately."
The reply came back even more firmly: "I say no. YOU change course."
By now, the captain was furious. Here was the pinnacle of modern naval technology—a multi-billion-dollar vessel representing the most progressive military force in history—being challenged by what sounded like some confused old man who probably shouldn't even be out on the water alone.
"This is the aircraft carrier USS Enterprise," he barked into the radio. "We are a sovereign extension of the United States of America. We are accompanied by three destroyers, three cruisers, and numerous support vessels. I demand that you change your course 15 degrees north, or countermeasures will be undertaken to ensure the safety of this ship. We possess the firepower to level an entire coastline. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
A moment of silence followed. The bridge crew exchanged glances, wondering what fool would still resist after such a warning.
Then a calm, measured voice responded, still with that heavy Greek accent but now perfectly clear: "This is Papas Gerasimus. I alone here with lantern. I am lighthouse keeper. Have watched these waters for forty-three years. Lighthouse has stood on this rock for thirteen centuries. I cannot move. You must change course."
The bridge fell silent. The captain's expression shifted from anger to somewhat sheepish understanding. What he had perceived as stubborn ignorance was the quiet confidence of someone who stood firmly on hard reality.
The captain quietly ordered the course change.
The lighthouse keeper stands as the embodiment of tradition—humble yet unmoving, ancient yet an essential guide. The aircraft carrier represents our progressive society—powerful, impressive, and utterly convinced of its superiority.
Just as the captain eventually changed course despite his initial arrogance, I have realised that no amount of progress can change the fundamental realities of human nature. There are spiritual laws that are the rocks upon which many lives have been wrecked.
The lighthouse doesn't move because the rocks don't move. True progress isn't found in demanding reality conform to our latest theories, but in humbly learning to navigate the waters of human existence with the aid of those who have safely guided others before us.
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