Date: SUN 7:00pm 1st March 2026
Preacher: Rev. David McLaughlin
Bible Reference: Psalms 104:26
Podcast
Sermon Summary
Psalm 104 stands as one of the most majestic hymns of divine creation. It proclaims the glory, wisdom and providence of the living God who fashioned all things by His power and sustains them by His word. Within this sweeping vision of nature and redemption, verse 26 captures a simple yet profound phrase: “There go the ships.”
At first glance these four words may appear incidental, merely descriptive of the scene. But upon reflection they open to us a rich spiritual metaphor for human life, divine design and eternal destiny. The psalmist’s gaze from the shore upon the sea becomes a mirror for our own contemplation of existence: its origin, its purpose, its peril and its ultimate port.
The Voyage that is Portrayed
David, standing on the Mediterranean coast, watches the merchant vessels leave the harbour and make their way into the great and wide sea. The image is one of motion and direction. Ships are not meant to sit idle at the quay. They are constructed for travel; their timbers and sails exist for movement.
So it is with human life. We too were made for a purpose. Each of us has a beginning — the “birth dock,” as it were — and each of us sails through time upon the uncertain waters of life. The sea itself, with its hidden depths and shifting currents, aptly portrays existence with all its beauty and danger.
Scripture teaches that our lives are not random accidents. They are voyages under divine command. As the psalmist elsewhere reminds us, “The sea is His, and He made it.” The winds, the tides, and even the storms are under His authority. Those who imagine themselves self-guided soon learn that no one sails entirely independently of the Creator.
The storms of life — sickness, loss, fear, hardship — test the strength of each vessel and the faith of each sailor. The psalmist knew such experiences. Bereavement, uncertainty and pain have touched every life that belongs to God. Yet even in such trials there is purpose: the voyage itself shapes us, making us fit for the harbour that lies ahead.
Our years are brief. “The days of our years are threescore years and ten,” says Psalm 90, “and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow.” The question therefore presses us: do we know the Captain who governs the waters? Are we reconciled to Him? Have we trusted our lives to His command?
The Vessel that is Presented
When the psalmist speaks of “the ships”, he likely refers to the trading vessels common in his day. These ships were not built for pleasure cruises; they existed for service, commerce and the transport of precious cargo. Similarly, human beings were not created for idleness or vanity but for a divine mission: to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever.
Just as each ancient ship bore the signature of a skilled builder and an owner, so each human soul bears the imprint of its Maker. We are designed, not accidental; purposed, not purposeless.
Within that metaphor there are several vital features of the vessel.
- Every ship needs a captain.
No vessel navigates safely without an appointed commander. In the realm of the soul, Jesus Christ is that Captain — “the Captain of our salvation,” as Hebrews declares. When sailors ignore sound command, disaster follows; when we live without Christ’s authority, spiritual shipwreck is inevitable. - Every ship has a name and registration.
An unnamed ship is a vessel without belonging. Christ’s disciples rejoice that their names are written in heaven. To know that one’s name is recorded in the Lamb’s Book of Life is to know true security of ownership: we belong to Him. - Every ship requires a crew.
A ship never sails alone. So too, believers are called into fellowship — the shared labour, encouragement and accountability of the church. Christianity is not a solitary voyage but a fleet advancing together beneath one banner. - Every ship must have an anchor.
Without an anchor, a vessel drifts until ruin. Hebrews 6:19 calls hope in Christ “an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast.” Salvation itself is that anchor: fixed not in the shifting sands of man’s effort but in the enduring rock of Christ’s finished work.
Thus the vessel’s design teaches us something of spiritual discipline and order. We must not attempt to sail rudderless, nameless or without anchor.
The Power that Propels
In David’s day, ships moved not by mechanical engines but by the invisible power of the wind. The wind filled their sails, driving them toward their destination. In Scripture, wind often symbolises the Spirit of God. Jesus Himself said, “The wind bloweth where it listeth … so is every one that is born of the Spirit.”
The power of the Christian life is therefore not human effort but divine breath. The Holy Spirit regenerates, fills, equips and guides. He is both the energy and the navigation. Without His movement there is stagnation; without His direction there is drift.
In the days before modern navigation, sailors followed the coastline by maps and, later, by the North Star. The believer likewise follows the chart of Scripture. The Word of God is a lamp to the feet and a light to the path. True prosperity and blessing come only when the ship of life keeps to the biblical course. When the church neglects the Scriptures, apostasy and apathy soon set in, and the vessel loses her bearings.
The Peril that is Encountered
Every voyage brings storms. The ship will be tested: the winds will blow, the waters will rise and the crew will fear. Yet the Captain remains in command.
The disciples once cried, “Master, carest thou not that we perish?” as their boat filled with water. But Christ rebuked the wind and waves, and there was calm. Such is the lesson of faith: to trust that the Captain of salvation governs every current and tempest.
Mutiny and fear threaten the heart of every sailor, yet those who keep their trust in Christ will not sink beneath the waves. The life of faith is no harbour of ease but a sea of proving. Still, with Christ at the helm, the voyage leads safely home.
The Destination that is Pictured
The psalmist not only sees the ships departing the coast; he imagines them returning, laden with treasure. The ships of Tarshish, we are told, brought gold, silver, ivory, apes and peacocks after long voyages. Their journeys often took years, but their returns were celebrated.
So it is with life itself. Our time upon earth is but a brief passage. James reminds us, “What is your life? It is even a vapour that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.” The horizon closes quickly.
Each person sails toward one of two final ports: the harbour of heaven or the wreck of hell. The book of Revelation declares that nothing defiling shall enter the New Jerusalem, but only those whose names are written in the Lamb’s Book of Life. The ultimate destination depends entirely on whether one belongs to Christ.
Those who trust in Him sail toward a sure homeland, where the voyage ends in safety and joy. Those who reject Him face an eternity separated from His presence — an unending storm from which there is no return.
To witness the ships vanish over the horizon is to be reminded of mortality. One day our vessel too will disappear from earthly view. The only question that matters is this: to which harbour do we sail?
Conclusion
The psalmist’s brief observation, “There go the ships,” thus becomes a sermon in itself. It speaks of life’s divine design, its duty, its danger and its destiny. The voyage begins at birth and ends at eternity; the vessel is the soul; the sea is time; the wind is the Spirit; the Captain is Christ.
To live without acknowledging Him is to drift aimlessly until destruction. To yield to His command is to travel purposefully, anchored in salvation, guided by His Word and carried by the Spirit’s power toward the eternal port of peace.
