By Ashlie Miller

Recently, my family of seven embarked on a vacation to visit a couple of different sailing vessels, which anyone will tell you is more of a trip than a vacation. We had not planned to create a seafaring-themed adventure, but homeschool studies of the Titanic and a desire to revisit a familiar museum made a trip to the Titanic Museum in Tennessee and the Ark Encounter in Kentucky a workable plan.

It wasn’t until looking into the review mirror of our trip home that I realized the unexpected juxtaposition of these two tours within the same week. Both were feats of design and engineering but contrasted vastly in intent and responses.

We first visited The Titanic Museum. Although it was not a depressing tour, there were many elements of sadness. Upon entering the ship, we each received a ticket as a second- or third-class passenger who journeyed on that fateful voyage and a brief description of who they were. We took guesses based on information we gathered or surmised as to whether we would be among those who survived the tragedy or sank to a tragic demise.

Hosting 2,240 people, the size of the Titanic was astounding — much larger than the dimensions of Noah’s Ark, which housed a pair of each kind of known animal. This epitomized man’s skill, knowledge and experience, promising new hope for those moving across the sea. Rumors abounded of the ship’s indestructibility. Although the museum only presents a half-boat, one can imagine the opulence and luxury in the first-class decks and the more modest living quarters for the third-class passengers. One encounters the icy-cold waters and the steep incline of a sinking ship before the tour ends with passengers looking at the wall to see if they survived or drowned on that dreadful night. Then, you conveniently exit through the gift shop.

The Ark Encounter is built so you can experience the full-scale size and engineering wonders, which house so many animals and accommodate Noah’s family for those many months on the boat. For although it rained 40 days and nights, they lived onboard for over a year. As you look at the information and life-size models, you become a believer that an ark like this could be built and maintained by God’s design. It is a remarkable museum for an impressive boat — nothing had ever existed like this before in human history. But it did not promise the luxury and opulence that the Titanic would one day hold.

Did you know that the base ticket for a third-class passenger would exceed $1,000 in today’s money? That was a hefty fee for a typical Irish family coming out of the potato famine, looking for work being replaced in the industrial age and longing for a new opportunity. It would have taken many years and lots of intentional savings to afford passage for one, much less a small family. Yet, many did, with hopes of something better. Life was hard, and many wanted and needed hope.

One exhibit aboard the Ark Encounter shows life before the flood and why Noah prophesied a flood — “The Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually” (Genesis 6:5). But rather than a false promise for a chance at a new life, Noah ensured salvation from destruction — a rescue. It was an offer the people around Noah did not know nor believe they needed — salvation from themselves and wrath. It was a free passage — no strings attached. Yet they mocked and all refused. Every Ark tourist knows this, so there is no wall of remembrance to see if a historical character survived. Instead, sightseers are challenged on how they will live this life — as one pointed toward the promise of eternal life or as one choosing their own will and path, leading to future destruction.

We left our time on both ships with memories and deep reflections rather than sadness or hopelessness. You may never have a chance to take a cruise and wonder about your safety or even visit these museums. But we all have a choice to make regarding a great salvation that has been offered to us. Choose wisely, and don’t delay!

Ashlie Miller and her family live in Concord.