One Year Out At Sea
A Reflection for The One Year Anniversary of The Broken Binnacle
Dear crew,
It is with joy and gratitude that we celebrate the one-year anniversary of The Broken Binnacle, today marking one year since the poem A Whisper was published on our Substack. Upon rereading it recently, I thought it fitting that such a poem christened this endeavor we call The Broken Binnacle. Although short, and hopefully sweet to those who read it, the poem seeks to capture an attitude we ‘Boys of the Binnacle’ strive to live out—that is, openness to the glimpses of the Mystery.
We’re not special in this way, after all, every person has glimpses of the Mystery to which only he or she is privy. Unfortunately, some people have blinded themselves to this vision, have ignored it, or do not seek to do anything about it, even though such glimpses affect all of us deeply whether we like it or not. At The Broken Binnacle, we have committed to incarnating such glimpses through the written word, whether it be through philosophical nuggets, poetic musings, or other forms of writing. Failure to incarnate such glimpses, failure to even attempt incarnating unspeakable things (which is the task of the artist, yes?), was an evil to someone like G.K. Chesterton, who wrote, and we agree:
“It is perfectly true that there is something in all good things that is beyond all speech or figure of speech. But it is also true that there is in all good things a perpetual desire for expression and concrete embodiment; and though the attempt to embody it is always inadequate, the attempt is always made. If the idea does not seek to be the word, the chances are that it is an evil idea. If the word is not made flesh it is a bad word” (emphasis added).[1]
Contained in Chesterton’s words is a mindset that must be unlocked and lived—we are not simply people of a book, or of a cold system, or just ephemeral emotions: we are a people of the Living Word, which encompasses all things, and which became Incarnate for the salvation of the world, as truly scandalous as this is to the sensibilities of fallen men. Incapable as we of the Broken Binnacle are, we, in some small analogous way, seek to incarnate the Word, infinite in depth and breadth, in our own limited words and diminutive deeds. We do not do this because we are special. We do this because we are Christian and this necessarily invites—demands, I daresay—becoming Christ-bearers, in imitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the prime exemplar whom the Greeks call Theotokos, which literally means “God-bearer.”
Furthermore, we see ourselves as inheritors and stewards of a great gift; the gift of true education, found, for us, in our education at Christendom College. By education, we mean not so much that we were given a rigorous intellectual training with discursive thinking and systems of fact, great as they are, but that we were formed. Formed in both mind and soul by countless blessings; and, seeing as we are still quite imperfect, we have not only been formed but are being formed. Whatever dwindling flame of faith we had before Christendom, our common education serves as an endless source of fuel and as a founding soil. Somewhere, at some point during Christendom, the seeds of this endeavor were planted. Who are we to hoard fruits intended for all? It is not our truths but our discoveries of Truth that we wish to share.
That said, The Broken Binnacle is not just an endeavor: it is a mission. A mission of faith brought about by the means of a few weak, inexperienced young men who are, nonetheless, deeply convicted of the truth, beauty, and goodness of our Catholic faith, which is a deep faith in Christ; a faith which, through imperfect men inspired by the Holy Spirit, has played a real part in history—a great drama of saints and sinners, wheat and chaff—that no other religion has played since Christ’s Resurrection.
Our faith, as manifest through this incredibly rich and wild tradition, and taught to us by our education and formation, is our great inheritance, “and from the one to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be demanded” (LK12:48). Whatever storms may come, let them break upon us. Broken men that we are, we have set our house upon the rock, striving, by God’s grace, to attain the fullness for which we were made. We have set our minds on eternity, for, in the words of St. Prosper of Aquitaine, “even if the wounds of this shattered world enmesh you, and the sea in turmoil bears you along in one surviving ship, it would still befit you to maintain your enthusiasm for liberal studies unimpaired. Why should lasting values tremble if transient things fall?”
We’re honored and blessed to have you onboard with us—here’s to another year of opportunities, trials, blessings, growth, glimpses, and grace.
In mysterium Verbi,
The Boys from The Broken Binnacle
[1] “The Mystagogue,” found in A Miscellany of Men by G.K. Chesterton
Well said! Onto another year!
Congratulations and may God bless you in 2023 and beyond.