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Misneach

NOT LONG AGO MY HUSBAND AND I ACQUIRED a little boat — a 1973 Swedish-built 25-foot fiberglass troller that has a reputation for being unsinkable. Cruising at a modest 6 to 7 knots, her 33-horsepower diesel engine sips one-half gallon per hour.

Maybe it’s in my blood, the influence of my merchant marine sailor father (although he died early in my life). Or, perhaps it’s the result of living on Puget Sound for ten years, with the intoxicating aroma of salt water wafting in the breeze. But I suspect a bit of what has drawn me to this boat is one of the earliest symbols for the church, scratched out with a few simple lines: a little hull and a cross for the mast.

Centuries later, the middle section of the sanctuary (where the congregation sits) was designated the nave, from the Latin word navis meaning “ship” (“boat” is navicula). Glance up at the great Gothic ceiling high above and you’ll see it resembles the bottom of an inverted ship or boat.

It may come as no surprise that the church has been likened to Noah’s Ark, because, as Frederick Buechner points out, both have “just about everything imaginable on board, the clean and the unclean both … ” resulting in, um, messes everywhere. And yet, “even at its worst, there’s at least one thing that makes it bearable within, and that is the storm without … ”

In the Gospel of Mark the fishermen’s lowly fishing boat is more than a modest mode of transportation for Jesus and his disciples: it is a potent metaphor for the fledgling community of faith. When the disciples get in the boat-church they find it to be, paradoxically, both a place of testing and fear, and a place of safety and protection from the storm. It is the fundamental environment where the disciples’ faith is built, where they are challenged to trust in Jesus — although most of the time they continue to be confused and even terrified. Note to self: the presence and power of Jesus is not always comforting or clarifying! Even when Jesus calms the sea, he is rocking the boat!

The Gospel of Mark also shows us that what Jesus is about is bigger than the boat itself. With Jesus on board they head to “the other side.” He sets out in the direction of the unfamiliar; he crosses boundaries; he takes the disciples outside their comfort zones. The little boat-church is clearly a means to a greater end (Jesus’ wider ministry). Jesus intends for this little community to get somewhere, to do something, to search for opportunities to respond to the needs of others and get out of the boat!

I will admit as a pastor I have often felt overwhelmed and at my wits’ end in the boat-church. I recall the 14th century saint, Catherine of Siena, who in the last years of her life had a dream (or was it a nightmare?!) where the church-boat (a huge ship) landed on her shoulder! Is it any surprise that the brilliant, irenic and deeply spiritual Catherine woke up paralyzed, and died a few months later? She remains the patron saint for all who feel crushed by the weighty burden of the church. Even still, it’s not all on our shoulders. We are carried.

So, we haven’t named our little boat yet, but one strong contender is Misneach (pronounced “Mish-knock”), an Irish Gaelic word meaning “courage.” Don’t lose heart. Don’t quit. Stay with the boat! It reminds me that when the boat-church is navigating troubled waters, or isn’t making headway, or has even lost its way, Jesus says: Misneach! Courage! Take heart! It’s me. I’m here. Don’t be afraid (Mark 6:50).

Christ alone floats our boat. And he promises never to abandon ship

Heidi H Armstrong NarrowHEIDI HUSTED ARMSTRONG serves as an interim pastor in the Pacific Northwest.

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