The Church: St. Peter’s Ship

If you look up at the ceiling of St. Mary of Redford, you will see that it looks like the hull of a ship. This is not accidental. Recall that when we St. Peter was out fishing, the Lord Jesus got into his boat. At Jesus' word, Peter lowered his net on the other side of the boat and caught so many fish that the boat almost sank. What was the point of this miracle? There were more fish than Peter could eat. It was a sign. Jesus told Peter in that moment, "From now on, you will be a fisher of men." Just as Peter had been casting out, trying to bring fish into his boat, he would spend the rest of his life trying to bring souls into the Church. Just as Peter's boat was tossed by the wind and the waves crossing the Lake of Gennessaret, so too would the Church be tossed about by the attacks of sin, the devil, and the world. Just as Peter sat at the helm of his ship, so too he and his successors would sit at the helm of the Church. Peter's boat is an image (or as they say in theology, a "type") of the Church.

If you want to understand what the Church is, how it operates, and why it is the way it is, it is worth digging into this analogy with the barque (i.e. ship) of Peter.

So imagine for a moment that you are living in occupied territory. A cruel tyrant has taken over your homeland and, while life under him is unbearable, it is all you know. One day you are going about your business, when someone tells you that the rightful king is organizing and preparing to retake the territory. Unlike the tyrant, He is generous, merciful and kind. He still reigns supreme in a kingdom on the other shore. You can join Him, leave the tyrant and live in happiness in this supremely just kingdom. The ship is waiting to take you there. You just have to get on board. This ship is the Church and the journey is to God's kingdom in Heaven.

Despite the invitation, you find that entrance the ship is guarded. One must swear allegiance to the king and be branded with His mark before you can cross that plank. You must swear to obey His laws and to His commands. You must allow Him to mark you as one of His own and no longer the tyrants'. Once you have been branded, there is no erasing that mark. You can leave the ship, but you will always be known as a citizen of the King. Your ties to the tyrant are definitively from this moment on. This is baptism, it is the means by which you enter the Church, are marked for Christ, and begin the journey to Heaven.

When you board the ship, you discover that the King has loaded it generously with provisions. After all, the journey is long and without them, the passengers will not survive. He has given miraculous bread (the Eucharist) that has within it all the nutrients they need to satisfy their hunger and more. He has given them medicine to heal them (anointing) and a tribunal by which faults are acquitted and order restored (confession.) Everything need for survival, for binding wounds, for strengthening the ship's company and for crossing the ocean has been provided. There are also gifts given by the King, accumulated after many visits to His Kingdom. Beautiful works of art, music, comforts that make the ship more livable. With all these things, the ship is heavily laden, and yet it all too valuable to throw overboard. It is better that she move slowly and have all she needs to reach the other shore than that she be quick and the passengers starve.

For a moment, there's a brief spasm of fear that no one knows how to get to this Kingdom. After all, you have never seen it and many of those on the ship have at best known people who have seen it but few have seen it themselves. Feeling somewhat emboldened, you decide to knock on the captain's door and inquire about the navigational plan. After all, if this sails aimlessly, then you will be doomed to a watery grave stranded on the high seas and such a fate is not one you want to be part of.

The captain is very gracious and invites you in and asks you what the matter is. You explain to him that you are worried that no one knows how to get to this kingdom and you would prefer to leave the ship rather than begin a blind journey out into dangerous waters. He has you sit down and he pulls out an old map (the Bible.) He explains that he is not the first captain of this ship. Others came before him and they have passed on their wisdom as they've traversed this route (Tradition.) More importantly, however, they passed on what the original crew was given by the King (the deposit of faith.)

The King, who gave them their great store of provisions, told them the secrets of preparing them and making them last. He didn't write it down, but the servants in the kitchen have handed this recipe on ever since and know how to do it without making the food spoil. This is the Mass. He also gave them a map by which they would know the way. This is sacred Scripture. Further, the King taught them how to find the north star. So long as they kept their eyes fixed on that star, they would know they were going in the right direction. This star is Christ.

You leave the captain's cabin feeling well assured. This is not the ship's first journey nor will it be her last. The captain has been provided with all he needs to navigate well and the ship has all the provisions it needs to make the long journey. All will be well.

The anchor is raised, the sails are dropped and the wind of the Holy Ghost blows and drive the ship forward, leaving behind the kingdom of Satan and sailing on to Heaven, the Kingdom of Christ.

Weeks, months and years pass on the ship (the Church) and you have to confess your attitude towards it is not what it was at the beginning. At first you were just happy to be out of the tyrant's (the devil's) grasp. The food provided on the ship (the Eucharist) was the best you had tasted and you were starving before. The laws and structure of the ship, while they took a little getting used to, were welcome. You had seen what a lawless society was like and appreciated the structure and the harmony.

But in time, the novelty began wearing off and you started noticing things about the ship and the crew that were less than edifying. Some of the servants (the priests) were amazing and did their jobs with great joy and devotion. But some were less so and there were even some servants who were known to neglect serving the passengers at all. The ship was well appointed with food, but because of the failure of these servants, some passengers were hungry and some who were wounded were not tended to. There were also mixed reviews on the captain. There had been captains in the past (the popes) who were amazing. Their skill at commanding the ship and navigating all the problems that a voyage could bring were astonishing. The ship reached its destination with very few losses. Others were less impressive. Some were simply incompetent and had failed to heed the wisdom their predecessors passed on. Others were corrupt, much like the bad servants, and failed to steer the ship at all. Fortunately, there was usually a first mate around to take the helm while the captain was mismanaging, but those were dark and difficult times. Further, the other passengers (fellow Catholics) often didn't live up to their duties. In order to move forward, the ship needed rowers and when crew members neglected their responsibility, the burden became all the heavier on those who did row.

With all the problems on the ship, it can be tempting to think you were better off with the tyrant or would have a better shot getting there if you swam. Of course neither is true, but this ship promised to bring you to paradise and it is hard to accept that you are not there yet.

In the face of problems, everyone becomes an expert. Without other means of small talk, people begin pontificating about how they would solve all the ship's problems. "If we just stopped using specially appointed servants and had everyone take turns in the kitchen, that would solve the corruption" (anti-clericalism). "The captain just needs to beat the lazy crew members and then we would have everyone rowing the way they're supposed to" (rigorism). "The ship is simply too heavy. We need to throw some of the treasures overboard" (iconoclasm). "The map is outdated; we should chart our own course" (modernism). On and on the talk goes.

So long as the captain is addressing issues, it remains just talk. However, when the captain ignores the problems (or contributes to them), discontent grows among the crew. Eventually mutiny breaks out and the ship divides between those loyal to the captain and those who are trying to dislodge him. Needless to say, mutiny brings out the worst in everybody and the offenses committed on both sides during the rebellion leave bitter feelings that last a long time after the fact. While battles are being fought on the ship, guns are being fired, holes are inadvertently being blown in the hull, it can be tempting to think that the ship will surely founder. But by some miracle she never has and in the end, the mutineers take one of the life boats and try to make it to the Kingdom apart from the mother ship.

The lifeboat has its appeal at first. It is lighter, easier to navigate. With a smaller crew it lacks the politics and bureaucracy of the mother ship. But it also lacks her provisions (the sacraments), her wisdom, her map. The mutineers might take some provisions with them from the main ship, but they always leave something behind, and the King loaded His ship with everything necessary to reach the Kingdom. Without those provisions, they will be hard pressed to reach the other shore.

And so you come to the end of your journey. You did not get here alone and you did not get here by your own efforts. You were invited by the King on this journey. He supplied you with everything you needed. He told you the way. He gave you companions for the journey who would help you and for whom you would also be responsible for helping along the way.

Before you enter the Kingdom, accounts must be reckoned. The servants are asked to give an account of how they distributed the provisions of the ship. The captain is asked to give an account of how he navigated and governed. You are asked to give an account of your efforts to labor on the ship and to bring more souls into it during your journey.

As you give an account of yourself, you realize it was not enough to be on the ship in order to be admitted to the Kingdom. Your conduct was also a factor. The King is quick grant mercy to those who repent ask of it, but for those who justify their wrongdoing or try to hide it, justice is swift and they are sent into exile. You think of the mutineers, who thought they were going to the reach the Kingdom more quickly by leaving the mother ship. You wonder if they persevered in their journey and what they would say to the King when they have to tell Him that they left His ship and rebelled against His captain.

Now at long last, you enter into the Kingdom. It is nothing like the tyrants'. Here there is joy, here is this bountiful provisions, here the rightful King reigns supreme for ever and ever.

This is what the Christian life is like. It is a journey towards Heaven that can only be done within the Church established by Christ. It is not to say the journey within the Church is smooth. The barque of Peter is filled with human beings, and human beings are fallen. Nevertheless, we have to stay on the ship because it is our job to help those other human beings get to Heaven, and for them to help us. The ship has all the provisions need; it just needs a crew in order to reach its destination.