Thar she goes
Sea travel has faded from our lives much like train travel, though both were at their times the normal way to cover great distances. This did not diminish the drama of boarding and sailing, with its slow-motion separation and setting out for the open unknown, and similar scenes played out on railroad platforms as well. Automobile and air travel are the most common now, and neither offers parting travelers nor those being left behind that stage for farewells.
Boats and ships are still around, though not used for getting from point A to point B so often anymore. Just up I-95 from us is the Maryland Cruise Terminal, where people board ships to depart and then be returned to their starting point. They can leave their cars in the parking lot there to await their return. On a recent visit to Fort McHenry, as I approached I had the chance to see a cruise ship docked and boarding, then watch it set out to sea past the fort while I was touring there. The parking lot for that cruise line was full of cars, an indication that a cruise was underway.
Right here in Four Corners, we have a ship that most people do not notice. The long part of a church where all the people assemble is called the nave, which is the Latin word for ship. The universal church is referred to as the Barque of Peter, or Peter’s Boat, in yet another nautical reference that calls to mind Christ climbing into Peter’s boat to preach to the crowd on shore. It is also reassuring to remember the Peter and all the disciples were safe during the storm when Christ was in the boat with them.
The ship reference is not only to past moments recalled in the Gospels, but also describes a reality in our moment. We can find safety no matter the raging tempest about us when we remain in the vessel with Christ aboard, that Peter steers, and we our need for a vessel arises because we are on a journey, from where we are to where we want to be. The ship of the Church carries us through the perils of life and across the boundary of death into new life, and as such delivers us to our destination. Having our lives conform to the Church and her teaching, participating in the sacraments that fill us and re-fill us with divine life, is how we remain “on board” this ship.
When we enter the passenger section of the ship of Saint Bernadette, the nave of our church building, it is a participation in the larger life of the universal Church, but it is also a journey in its own right. More like a cruise than crossing the seas, we set out knowing we will return to the same place from which we set out, but also knowing that like all travel, this will change us. We are borne to the presence of the Living God, and we cross the threshold of Heaven to enjoy the Communion of the Holy Trinity. After this blissful visit comes the call “All ashore,” and we must debark once again into this valley of tears.
Aside from a few parishioners who are driven to Mass by family members who deliver them to the door, there is not even a perfunctory farewell from those who remain ashore. Does anybody see you set off for Mass, and then return? Is there anything in your manner, in your words upon your return that would make them wish to travel with you?
Our parking lot provides a wealth of information, as I have recently discussed here, and the large number of cars here indicates a ship has set sail filled with travelers on Sundays as well as Holy Days that are unknown to the uninformed. Does that arouse curiosity or interest, I wonder?
When the rains came and lifted the ark that Noah had built to the derision of his neighbors, how long did it take for them to regret that they had failed to join him? Our God has a history of providing the vessel that will save His people from destruction. It is good to keep this in mind as we board our own, local rescue craft. There will always be perils and storms, but we know in whom we have put our trust. And even though we more commonly cover distances by airplane or automobile these days, we know that our best hope for our biggest trip is to remain in the boat.
Monsignor Smith
