Among the symbols found in ancient Judaeo-Christian ossuaries is the ship.  And this ship is just what we should expect, with the transverse yard on the mast giving it the form of a cross; in this way the ship with its rigging becomes a figure of the saving cross.  This seems to be the oldest form of the ship's salvation symbolism.  And it persisted, for even when the ship became identified with the church, the mast remained a symbol of the cross.

--Jean Danielou

One Sunday morning at the church Elizabeth and I attended in Taipei, Taiwan while serving as missionaries in 2008, there was a "special presentation" intended to kick off a series of sermons on the theme of evangelism.  The centerpiece of the special presentation was a short film that depicted a ship journeying across the Pacific Ocean.  Not soon after embarking on the voyage, the ship was caught in a squall, sending the crew into a panic, tying down equipment, sending passengers below deck, and doing their best to stay upright. 

The strength of the storm was too much for some sailors, and they were cast overboard into the swirling sea.  A few intrepid sailors began a rescue operation, sending down life preservers and readying a life raft for those in imminent danger of drowning. 

The analogy in the film was quite simple: salvation is the ship, we are saved by the cross, and those in the ship are obligated to save those outside the ship, or watch them drown. 

After Taiwan, we moved to North Carolina where I began studying at Duke Divinity School.  Lo and behold, the logo of Duke Divinity School is the ship described by Danielou.  The same ship I saw in the video in Taiwan. 

I've never really liked the logo.  The arc over the ship looks too idyllic, like a rainbow has come over the cross, calmed the waters, and from here on out everything is smooth sailing.  In fact, most stories involving boats in the Bible are anything but leisure cruises:  Jonah is thrown overboard, the disciples' boat is at the breaking point before Jesus calms the waves, and Paul is shipwrecked in the book of Acts. 

It seems that life in the boat is just as perilous as life in the swirling waves. 

Simon Peter steps out onto the water to walk toward Jesus, faltering as his fear gets the best of him.  Perhaps this is a better analogy for the Christian life: recognizing that life "in the boat" guarantees little safety, we step out into the water, into the world, and figure out that we aren't the ones on the boat doing the saving, and once in the water we don't save ourselves, so the best option is to float - in hope of a current of grace.