Wood Doors And A Stone Ship

These are the front doors of Newark’s Wright Memorial United Methodist Church. I was there on a Saturday morning so they were locked but I lingered a moment to consider the ship or boat imagery above the door.

I studied just enough art history in college to know that boats of all kinds have long been associated with Christianity in a few ways- from Noah’s Ark to fishing boats and ideas of a spiritual journey on the sea of life.

Boats have also been used to symbolize the Church itself, reaching a safe haven with souls on board. Look carefully at a mast and it resembles a cross.

Yet, you don’t see a lot of boats presented so prominently in architecture choices around here. That’s not to say it isn’t there but it’s not commonly the first thing you see in this area.

Incidentally, the central seating area of a church is called the Nave. This word derives from navis, the Latin word for ship.

This church is impressive but resembles a fortress with its small windows, stone walls and heavy wood doors. I think the ship drew me in because it’s so delicate in comparison.

It reminded me of the Martin Luther King Jr quote “we may all have come on different ships but we’re in the same boat now.”

I continued on my own journey that fall day, encountering several more churches but none with this particular symbolism in the architecture. It seemed all the more special for that reason.

Aboard the USS Requin

USS Requiem

Walking aboard the USS Requin is a little like stepping into another time and place. It’s now a part of the Carnegie Science Center in Pittsburgh but was once a very active submarine and home to eighty men at a time.

Commissioned in 1945, she entered service just days after the war ended and remained in service until the early seventies. Today she’s a floating museum and was manned by a very informative veteran the day I visited last year. He gave us a nice tour and overview of life aboard a submarine. If my memory is correct – he had served on a similar ship but not this specific one.

To say that the quarters are tight is an understatement. Let’s just say that I wouldn’t fare well in the Navy. My goodness, everything is so small! I can’t imagine sharing this space with ten people that I know well – much less 79 shipmates. But that’s exactly what went on here for more than 25 years.

You get a glimpse of life in the kitchen, in the captain’s quarters and in the life of the sailors who kept the ship running for each mission.

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It made me appreciate our nation’s veterans more than ever. Those active duty men and women who voluntarily put themselves in harm’s way every single day deserve better than our nation and our people give them.

After leaving the submarine, I felt bad that I didn’t have more questions for our host but, frankly, I was overwhelmed by the atmosphere and the close quarters. I was in awe of anyone who could live under the sea in this tin can for weeks and months at a time. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t imagine volunteering to serve here or in any number of dangerous and uncomfortable places that our nation’s military go everyday. Worse yet, I also can’t remember if I thought to thank him for his service to our country.

If you are a veteran, please know that I am grateful for your service. Thank you.

And if you talk to a veteran today, be sure to say thanks.

Want to touch a piece of military history? Click here to visit the USS Requin.