© 1992 Robert Stanley Bates
By Captain Robert S. Bates, Gales Ferry, Connecticut
“Jesus worked with Zebedee only a little more than one year, but during that time he created a new style of boat and established entirely new methods of boatmaking. By superior technique and greatly improved methods of steaming the boards, Jesus and Zebedee began to build boats of a very superior type, craft which were far more safe for sailing the lake than were the older types.” (UB 129:1.3) How important it is to trust in the seaworthiness of a vessel, especially if it is the one on which one embarks! As I look back over my thirty-three years in the maritime industry, years which involved sailing on the oceans of the world, crossing all major reference lines on Urantia and circumnavigating the globe, I am struck by these factual lines in The Urantia Book. A ship or a boat is a microcosm of a town, planet, local system, superuniverse, for it has all the administrative, engineering, sociological, political, architectural, supply, religious requirements and interpersonal relationships of any structured geographical subdivision. These are vital to all who sail in her. The integrity is not limited to the soundness of the hull or the reliability of the propelling machinery, but in all the life aspects of the small comunity afloat, not the least of which is the spiritual integrity of the captain and her crew.
My career began on a square rigged sailing ship with twenty-two sails plying the North Atlantic. It was sometime later in the middle of the Pacific Ocean that The Urantia Book found me; it was a year later that I assumed command of my first vessel. My good fortune was that The Urantia Book and captaincy arrived in my life in that order.
Seafaring men and women are quick to realize that, even in these United States, any vestiges of democracy disappear as a ship slips from its berth and proceeds to sea. The captain, or “master,” as he is called in the merchant marine, becomes the absolute authority, the monarch, the dictator. The responsibility for the safety of the crew and the success of the vessel’s mission becomes solely the master’s. Such a position, I thought in earlier years, would justify airs of superiority, self-aggrandizement, justifiable arrogance and much more. Needless to say, such airs do not lend themselves to a smoothly operating ship. Like the new designs that Jesus and Zebedee had in the building of safer vessels, I needed new attitudes and ideas, not about the skills of seamanship so much, but about my philosophical position aboard, to make the ship a safe place for all who labored in her. A role model was decidedly needed, and The Urantia Book provides many excellent candidates, the greatest of whom is Jesus. One cannot approach perfec- tion in the execution of the job as master, but there is much that can be done to weave the voyage into the time-space fabric of the religion of Jesus, for that is the safe place to sail.
Relieving an off-going master takes about ten hours of concentrated work. The paper shuffle, a thorough inspection of the ship, an accurate count of the ship cash, medicinal controlled substances, publications, charts, crew lists, medical records, food, fuel, etc., require careful attention. After the relieved master’s last suitcase goes ashore, the new master is left in silence as the dust settles. I seize this opportunity to close the cabin door, fall to my knees and formulate a prayer that goes something like this: “Heavenly Father, Christ Michael, and my Thought Adjuster, I more than welcome your presence aboard this vessel. I ask that the Father through the being of Christ Michael be the ‘Master in Fact’ of this vessel and that I be relegated the position of ‘servant master.’ As Christ Michael spent many hours of his sojourn in the person of Jesus of Nazareth on Urantia in boats, I will hope the invitation as ‘Master in Fact’ for the months to follow would be pleasing, and I as ‘servant master’ subordinate my actions to the Father’s will and the needs of your embarked children. I shall use this time to be fully in service to each crewmember on board, to the company I serve, and to the needs of other vessels as conditions require.” With that, my focus is on the numerous mundane and ordinary duties that cannot be delegated.
Having thus signified the intent of my philosophical position as “servant master” with brotherly love and service as the keys to my conduct, the next duty is to ask the crew if one of them would volunteer as a lay leader for weekly nondenominational services. Someone always does and Sunday services are then guided into the motif of a study group. Lay leader or captain, anyone can bring “their book” for reading aloud and discussion by the others. A unique welding occurs between “Master in Fact,” “servant master,” crew, and ship during these brief but important moments of the voyage. Some aboard can sense an etherial resonance of spiritual energy. I bring The Urantia Book and read from those parts that are traditionally seasonal or, if I can find them on a moment’s notice, those parts that relate to the immediate concerns of the crew. To many, the readings seem strangely familiar, possibly from the outpouring of the Spirit of Truth. Others recognize the new thoughts as revelations surprisingly consistent with their belief systems. Still others will inquire as to the name of the book.
There is a statement somewhere in a brochure from Chicago that the Urantia Papers are here for the purpose of attraction and not promotion. By virtue of that principle and by making a copy available at sea, the exhilarating discovery of truth is within the grasp of all on board, and the middle of the ocean need not be an unlikely place for such philosophical treasure. Perhaps the greatest shortterm gain in this spiritual pollination of shipboard personnel is the tuning of our receptivity to the “Master in Fact.” The resulting dynamics of interpersonal attitudes and ideas guide the course of the voyage directly into paths of time-space events that appear, if not occasionally miraculous, at least very remarkable.
Such an exercise in shipboard management provides some important mental and spiritual movement in the tiny community. It moves the captain, in full sight of the crew, from an egocentric position to a God-centered relationship with the crew. In so doing, there is an immediate sense of relief among the crew that nothing in the way of bizarre behavior will emanate from the captain’s cabin. The tremendously important message generated is that there will be consistency from the top, with concern for others and standards of dependability in place. A serious tone of morality, fairness, honesty, and integrity becomes pervasive, a tone not often sounded among some of the more encrusted seafarers! There is a sense at a level of consciousness, new for some, that a power of guidance has been summoned, which of course it has, that will steady and strengthen daily decisions, easing the burdens that characterize long voyages. At the end of the weekly get-together, another unlikely act among calloused seamen occurs as all present hold hands in a circle and recite a closing prayer, usually the Lord’s Prayer. In this way, seagoing brothers and sisters have exposure to the Fifth Epochal Revelation, and the servant master can be warmed by the possibility of being the instrumentality of conveyance.
A pitfall of exposure to The Urantia Book is one of intellectualizing the material that has been so generously heaped upon us. There are some recurring themes that, if repeated often enough throughout the voyage, will sometimes prompt personal search. From seeds of thought will come a harvest of attitudes. From attitudes will come the harvest of deeds, habits and responses. From the seeds of responses comes the harvest of character. A simple, yet profound thought that can be used as an example is: “When I see to it that enough people get all that they want, I will have all that I need.” Where, in the atmosphere of a declining American merchant marine, jobs are sparse, wages and benefits are deteriorating drastically, maritime union officials spout their own thesis of “better to have a small piece of pie than no pie at all,” and sailors grab out of necessity all they can from the carcass of a dying industry, that idea of selflessness runs contrary to the ebbing tide of our economic times. How difficult it is to put in practice the idea: “The more I take, the less I have; the more I give, the more I have.” However, in a closed society aboard ship, where nothing except attitudes, water and fresh air are replenished for months at a time, the necessity to give of oneself for the mere survival of the whole becomes manifestly clear. Intellectualizing concepts of charitable acts rarely affects a hardened seaman. The demands upon the eighteen or less adults performing all the tasks that it takes to keep a small city afloat emphasize the importance of individual behavior and attitudes, both quantitatively and qualitatively.
How absolutely exciting it is to be on the threshold of the Fifth Epochal Revelation! How marvelous it is to feel its spiritual uplifting by its practice! How very special it is to be able to move to a God-centered relationship with our fellows! But where are we individually with respect to The Urantia Book revelations? First, the feeling that The Urantia Book found us by mistake may not be within our belief systems. That immediately begs the question as to whether or not our responsibility as individuals changes because of the appearance of The Urantia Book in our lives. From one perspective it may be considered as an invitation for a commission, not unlike a commission to serve as a ship’s officer or to serve in the uniformed services of a particular country. If the commission is accepted, then certain responsibilities are also accepted for the term of the commission. Yes, the road of life suddenly gets narrower, much narrower, but the horizon becomes broader, immeasurably broader. Life becomes a new journey, far from the one that may have been perceived when thinking the thoughts of youth. Now we see the possibility, if not opportunity, of extending that commission past the threshold of mortal death into continued service, education, and worship as more responsibilities are made manifest in the morontial life form depending, of course, on the previously demonstrated performance. Earthly life can be an opportunity to utilize the material in The Urantia Book to establish a level of competence and conviction, service and example, responsibility and accountability so that we might increase our usefulness to the celestial administrators for whatever marching orders we may receive. Life can become an opportunity to rid oneself of those tragic flaws in character that may be more difficult to deal with in morontia form or, worse yet, that may lead to obliteration.
“The next morning Jesus went to the chest containing his personal effects, which had remained in Zebedee’s workshop, put on his apron, and presented himself for work, saying, ‘It behooves me to keep busy while I wait for my hour to come.’…
During this final period of Jesus’ work at the boatshop he spent most of his time on the interior finishing of some of the larger craft. He took great pains with all his handiwork and seemed to experience the satisfaction of human achievement when he had completed a commendable piece of work. Though he wasted little time upon trifles, he was a painstaking workman when it came to the essentials of any given undertaking.” (UB 134:9.6-7)
“Ship du Jour” is a reminder that on whatever ship we find ourselves, whether it be a ship of state or the houseboat of the home, that is where we are in the now, the today. We have neither yesterday nor tomorrow; we have today and we have it only where we are in our voyage. For the ship of life to be of superior design, suitable strength, and keen navigation, we invite our Mystery Monitors to put their footprints on our backs and pray: “Push!”
