Diocese of Liverpool

Thought for the Day, 3 November 2003

The Rt Rev. James Jones

Spare a thought for those passengers stranded in the Mediterranean on the Cruise Ship, The Aurora, afflicted by a virus and finally admitted to the Port of Gibraltar.

It's triggered in my mind a story I often tell.

Imagine one day a rich friend invites you to come on a cruise of a life-time – all expenses paid! You get to the Pier Head here in Liverpool and board a luxury liner. You're shown your suite on ‘A' deck and within hours you're sailing in the sun.

After six weeks of having the time of your life the questions pops into your head as to where you might be going. But you don't wish to appear ungrateful and you carry on enjoying yourself.

After a further six months of high living you can suppress the question no longer and ask your host where and when this amazing trip might be coming to an end. “Is there a problem?” he asks, “Something not to your liking?” “No” you reply “It's all wonderful!” “Then eat, drink and be merry” he says. So you do your best.

After 10 years of sailing around, this dream cruise has become a nightmare! “Please!” you beg your host “Just tell me. Where? When?”

Is this ridiculous? No! Here we are on this planet earth like a ship cruising through space, and every one of the passengers asks at least once on the journey about where and when it might all come to an end.

Well, imagine then, recovering your composure you ask another question: “How many are on this cruise?” He tells you there are 1,000 passengers!

“A thousand people?” You can't believe it! “It feels like only 200!” you protest.

“Oh yes” he says “I thought you'd say that! Because here on ‘A' deck there are only 200. But for the last 10 years in the hold of this ship there've been 800 – and they've been on bread and water”.

Ridiculous? No! For here on this ship called planet earth – cruising through space – 20% of us are on ‘A' deck and 80% are in the hold of the ship. And the water they're drinking isn't often pure.

This parable prompts many reflections – not least – how on earth, and how on this earth, can we build staircases between the decks of inequality which are such an offence to God?

After yesterday's Ordination of the Bishop of New Hampshire some commentators are saying – and even welcoming – that it spells the end of the Anglican Communion. If that proved to be so it would be the greatest pity.

The Communion is a unique international partnership in which the 80% actually get to meet with the 20% on an equal footing.

It's a staircase between the decks, and one of the few international alliances NOT based on either economics or trade, and where unity across cultures brings deeper understanding of the human condition.

Without such relationships, those of us on ‘A' deck can retire to our luxury cabins, less likely to be disturbed by the noise of death below decks, and deaf to the cries of injustice which God alone can hear.