The Voyage of the Santa Evangelista

By Rev. William C. Mack

The Voyage of the Santa Evangelista is an adventurous, thrilling allegory about the Biblical teachings of vocation and evangelism—how they are a part of, and complement, each Christian. The ship represents the Church, and those on board represent the various vocations within the body of Christ and how their callings were made to proclaim the Good News of Jesus Christ.

In The Voyage of the Santa Evangelista, Rev. Mack has creatively and effectively intertwined the thoughts and lives of fictional characters with the doctrine of vocation and evangelism. Set in the time following the discovery of the New World and the Reformation, the reader sets sail with the captain, crew, and passengers of the Santa Evangelista on a voyage of self-examination. Through the characters he has imagined, Rev. Mack teaches a Biblical understanding of Christian purpose in every action of life that is inextricably linked to the mission of God and His final goal for His elect children to enter into heaven.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Feb 9, 2016
• ISBN: 9781483444482

Book preview

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1

It was September in the year 1550. Seagulls shrieked in the bright-blue morning sky on the coast of Spain. Captain Juan Fernando looked out from his beloved new ship, the Santa Evangelista. He, his family, his crew, and all the passengers that would board that morning were heading toward the New World across the Atlantic Ocean to start new lives. He shivered as excitement coursed through him.

King Charles V, the Holy Roman Emperor himself, had commissioned Juan and his ship to make the voyage to where Christopher Columbus had made the remarkable discovery far across the sea almost six decades before. Juan knew what the now famous explorer had said upon seeing island natives in the New Word: I could see that they were people who would be more easily converted to our Holy Faith by love than by coercion. … I believe they would readily become Christians.

While the king’s dreams were of new sources of gold and silver, Juan’s riches found their source elsewhere. Hopes were high as the captain, his crew, and brave souls from every imaginable walk of life began to take their place on board.

It was not going to be an easy voyage. The New World was open to every conceivable nation looking for worldly wealth. Attacks from foreign ships were common.

But the Santa Evangelista was not just any ship. She was a Spanish galleon made of oak from northern Spain. It had taken two years to build her. She would carry fifty-five crewmembers, sixty soldiers, and dozens of other passengers. It had taken almost two months to get the three hundred tons of provisions on board for the seven-week trip: animals, barrels of water, food, powder, muskets, shot, etc.—everything needed to keep them alive and healthy. In addition, she had twenty cannons on board to discourage pirates and other unwanted company. The lives of all aboard were directly dependent on her.

Juan was very proud to be sailing her and humbled that he had been chosen for such an awesome vocation as captain. He had not come from a seafaring family. His father was a cobbler in the town of Elena. And yet, from as far back as he could remember, the thought of sailing a great ship at sea had consumed him. It was as if an invisible hand had guided him from the time he was baptized as a small child.

Father Renaldo, his parish priest, saw how Juan was fascinated with sailing and had made sure that he heard all the mind-boggling stories that the sailors who came to worship would tell. Tales of battles, storms, treasure, sharks, and adventure filled and excited his young mind.

But the greatest treasure known to mankind was what Juan wanted to deliver to the New World. How could he get it to souls across the sea? He had been blessed with faith from the time he was an infant, but he had never considered the priesthood. He wanted a family, and the mere thought of standing in front of a congregation of people scared him to death. But did a common layman like him have the right, the authority, to speak the Gospel to others?

The church made it clear that the responsibility of proclaiming the Gospel was never given to laymen but only to a special class of believers called priests. He was given the impression early in life that they were in a higher class. The townspeople virtually never talked about religion, but they made sure that they attended Mass, especially on the holy days.

So why did the thought of—and the unrelenting desire to—get the good news of Christ’s death and resurrection to others burn within him? Was it from the devil? Was it fleshly pride? These thoughts had tormented Juan for years until one day a priest, Father Martin de la Cruz, came to his parish from Madrid. Juan listened intently to him speak, and a new fire burned within him from that moment on. He was stunned as Father Martin said that all believers were priests and that all Christians had the light of Christ inside them through their baptism and through the message of the cross in which they trusted.

This had incensed Father Renaldo, and it was rumored that Father Martin had been punished soon after by being banished to a remote corner of Spain for following the heresies of someone called Luther.

Juan had wondered if he would ever see the priest again. And who was this Luther? When he asked Father Renaldo, the priest told him that Martin Luther was nothing more than a rogue priest who had been excommunicated, died, and was undoubtedly burning in hell.

Juan wondered why Luther had been excommunicated almost three decades before. Surely, as a priest, he had the right to proclaim the message of the Bible. Was he, Juan Fernando, guilty of the same crime as Luther in wanting to ensure that souls everywhere knew the Savior’s love and free grace? Was the proclamation of spiritual truth limited to a special class in the Christian church? Was the Christian life to be lived out only by attendance at worship? Where could he go to find the truth?

Even according to Father Renaldo, the church had changed its teachings over the centuries. He said that now a greater light had come into the holy church, shining more brightly than before. Purgatory, celibacy for priests, and Communion wine only for the priests were all ideas that the early church knew nothing of, according to his priest, but now the clergy enthusiastically embraced them because of new divine revelations to the holy church.

Did the truth change? Where could one find a true, unchanging spiritual rudder in life? If God was his spiritual Father and the church was his spiritual mother, how did she feed and guide her children?

Just attend Mass, make confession, give offerings, and say your prayers, Father Renaldo told him. But there had to be more. Something inside Juan told him—assured him—there was more.

The Lord had provided for Juan’s education by sending a benefactor who had been overjoyed at his father’s work on a special order of shoes for a party. He took a liking to Juan and offered to pay for his schooling if his father would agree to be his private shoemaker. The agreement was made, to the joy of Juan, and before he knew it, he was graduating from the Casa in Seville, Spain’s very first naval academy.

God, being who He is, walked with Juan every step of his life, masked, it seemed, to do all for his good without being seen. Instruments of His work were being forged daily without the awareness of human souls. Juan could see why God would choose to wear a mask in society. The world was filled with evil, and sinful wisdom filled the earth. And yet God was working through all, the good and the bad, to fulfill His divine will—a concealed will that was formed ultimately to bless His body, the church.

It was all so amazing to Juan. A divine hand had led him to faith at the baptismal font through Father Renaldo; God concealing Himself, but nonetheless working through this headstrong priest. There, in those holy waters, Juan received membership into God’s kingdom. That same unseen hand had kept him from drowning the day he fell from the pier as a small child. And when food was scarce, work had miraculously presented itself to his father, staving them from starvation. Yes, God was masked, but He was there working in everything. Juan’s God was an awesome God indeed.

While Juan was not the top student in his naval academy class, he managed to get good grades. He and his parents were amazed at the ability he had been given to grasp difficult mathematical problems and apply them to navigation. Juan realized that this was not originating from inside him but came from above. God had a plan, and Juan was humbled at the thought of being a part of it.

His first assignment after the naval academy was the Santa Evangelista. He had been asked if he would take a military commission for the navy, but he had said that he preferred exploratory sailing for the crown with religious intent. Finding adventure and reaping bounty for his king while serving the Lord of lords was Juan’s dream.

That bounty did not include slavery, however. Not only did he have no interest in slaves, he was repulsed by the thought of men enslaving others for profit. Yes, it was profitable and thought to be a normal part of the shipping business, but he would have no part of it. His vocation was to glorify God and serve his neighbors out of love. He would deliver the greatest treasure to souls on the other side of the world while fulfilling his calling as ship’s captain. God is so good, he thought, smiling. That goodness was proven to me on the cross of Jesus Christ.

***

One day, soon after the formal commissioning of the Santa Evangelista, Juan was informed that the priest coming with him to the New World was none other than Father Martin, the one who had spoken so wonderfully at his church and who had been punished with banishment by the archbishop. However, Father Martin had been taken under the wing of the bishop and protected from any further discipline under his care. They had become good friends. And so, as a last resort, before Father Martin could be excommunicated and burned at the stake, Bishop Hernando Mojarro had convinced the archbishop to send him to the New World with Captain Juan Fernando.

This would get rid of the problem and calm the outbursts of those who had learned to love the rogue priest. Many threats not only to storm the manse (where the archbishop lived) but, even worse, to stop giving to the church got his attention. Archbishop Matias de la Vega hesitatingly agreed, but with dignified protest. Deep down inside, you see, he liked the young rebel of a priest but dared not publicly admit it. After all, his position, reputation, and future were on the line.

And so it was that Juan, a sea captain, and Father Martin were bound together for a new life. A greater friendship on earth would not be found.

As Juan looked out from the moored ship, he saw his beloved wife, Maria, coming with their two children. Their belongings had been put on board the day before, and he was overjoyed that his family was joining him on his first voyage.

2

As Maria approached the ship, she smiled, though with a little trepidation. She had been born and raised in the beautiful capital city of Toledo, born to wealthy parents who made sure she had all the advantages of life. Her parents were shocked when she announced that she had been seeing Juan Fernando, a naval academy student in Seville. After all, she had been groomed for the good life of aristocracy.

But even as a small child with a silver spoon in her mouth, Maria had looked up at the crucifix in the church where they worshipped, thinking, Jesus, You have done everything to forgive me and prepare me for Heaven. What can I do for You? How can I serve You, Lord? Such was the God-given attitude of self-sacrifice of this believer in Jesus Christ.

When Maria eventually shared these thoughts with her mother and father, they were stunned. Her father said to her, You are the daughter of nobility. Drive these crazy thoughts from your head. And for goodness’ sake, don’t say anything about them to Father Carlos de Sevilla! Surely God is not calling our daughter to be a nun, they thought. After all, they wanted grandchildren, and she had expressed time and again how much she wanted to be a wife and a mother.

So, in dutiful obedience to her parents, Maria said nothing to Father de Sevilla about her desire to share the cross and the empty tomb of Christ with others. But once, when she and her parents were on holiday in Paris, she had taken advantage of an opportunity that presented itself. Her parents had gone with their friends to tour the wineries in Bourdeaux, and they would be gone for several days. Her nanny seemed to understand when Maria told her that she must see a priest.

There, in the privacy of the confessional, she had revealed her innermost thoughts to the priest regarding her desire to share the Gospel. She remembered hearing him gasp and then reassure her, saying, These thoughts will pass. Just concentrate on worship and living a good, Christian life in society. She convinced herself she wasn’t technically breaking the Fourth Commandment because she had promised only not to tell Father de Sevilla about her spiritual desires.

But still Maria felt guilty. She asked God for forgiveness, and thankfully the cross was always there to remind her of divine grace and mercy. She certainly intended on continuing to worship, but the picture in her mind of taking the Gospel to others never ceased. She dreamed about it. But how could it happen without giving in to sin?

While Father de Sevilla answered some of her questions about the church and spiritual things in general, she desired to learn more. But how? The only Bible in the city was chained to the church’s altar. Having had a liberal education that included Latin, she had peeked at the open Bible for the first time and understood every word that came from God’s lips. It was opened to the Gospel of John, where she read, I am the resurrection and the life. He that believes in Me, though he shall die, yet shall he live.

Yet shall he live! The words had burned into her soul. Her heart had pounded with excitement. Oh, that I could continue to read this Holy Book for myself, she had said. Then I could get the answers I so long for.

The presence of God Himself within her heart, by His grace through faith, moved her as His Word empowered her every walk in life. The opportunity for growth in that Word had not yet come.

Maria’s childhood had been a pampered one with a private tutor and access to every imaginable musical instrument. She had chosen the cello, a recently invented instrument. While she was not quite orchestra material, as her music tutor put it, she was capable and loved playing. She especially loved the sacred music around Lent and Easter. What a blessing it was to her!

Maria and Juan had met at a ball at the Naval Academy. Her dress was handmade by Toledo’s finest seamstresses—a combination of silk from China and cotton from Egypt. The spiral patterns and light-blue color made her look like a princess.

Juan was so overwhelmed by her beauty and grace that he stumbled and fumbled his way through the various waltzes, even though he knew them exceedingly well. He found himself unable to speak intelligently on the safest of subjects around her, which she thought endearing.

It was love at first sight, at least for Maria. When they secretly agreed to meet in public, under the nanny’s watchful eye, she could think of marrying no one else.

It took Juan several months before he emboldened himself to ask for her hand in marriage. She said, Yes, and it’s about time!, to the chagrin of her new fiancé. She was about to begin a new vocation: that of being a wife, one that reflects the relationship Christ has with His church. But God had a plan that would tear her away from virtually everything she had known as a child—everything but her faith.

Fortunately, and to Juan’s amazement, he had won the hearts of Maria’s parents. They could not help loving him. The wedding was held in the St. Matthew Cathedral in Toledo. Thousands of people attended—most of whom Maria didn’t know. She could tell that Juan was overwhelmed with the upper crust of society fawning over her as if she were their very own daughter.

When at last Maria and Juan broke away from the reception, they were both relieved and ecstatic to begin their new life together.

And what a new experience it would prove to be! Maria found that cooking was delightful, and she and Juan loved the new spices brought from the ships. Her neighbor, Ana, was her senior and was one of the kindest women she’d ever met. Ana gave her tips and recipes that astounded even her husband.

While cleaning the house was tiresome, it proved to be rewarding. It was her house, and the ability to keep it spotless had been given to her by God Himself. Every heartbeat, every breath, everything used to clean their house was a gift from Him. The Creator had brought them together as man and wife, and she would try to praise Him through every common task.

Many people she knew claimed proudly that all good done was by their own power and design; they refused to see that special Someone working behind the scenes. Maria said to herself in righteous anger, What rubbish to think that man is in charge of his own destiny. God is God, and that is enough. Her life would be proof to her neighbors that spiritual life, by God’s grace, was alive and well in her Christian heart and soul.

Whenever Maria started down the path of complaining, especially when it came to washing clothes, she would whisk herself to the market, where she saw women beggars with virtually nothing. Some even had an arm or a leg missing. Several times she cried, quietly praying, Lord, I’m so sorry for not being content. You have blessed me with ever so much more than I am worthy of.

Shortly, the children came along—another blessing from God. First came Pedro and then, a year later, Pablo. They were brought to their Savior at the baptismal font and were soon a joy in the lives of their parents, something that Juan and Maria had never known before.

Not only were their boys cute and lovable, Maria and Juan found out quickly that they were also transgressors of God’s will. Those precious, cooing bundles of love were the most self-centered creatures on earth. Their entire infant lives were focused on being fed, nursed, changed, and held. But, Maria reminded herself, even changing their diapers is holy work.

While patience and care for others was not a part of their babies’ mindsets, the greatest gift Maria had was to pray with her children and share God’s love for them in Christ. Even though they were babies, she knew that the Word of the Lord’s promise was living and could reach down deep into their little hearts and souls.

Even though they could not yet respond to what she was saying, she knew that the peace of Christ and His comfort was being bestowed on them when she shared the Gospel with them. Her faith led her to believe that the promises of God, as taught by her priest, were connected to a divine ability to touch and change the very mind and soul—even those of her young children. Yes, God could do even that. In this she trusted.

While not technically a socialite anymore, Maria used her connections with friends and family in Toledo to help Juan find the best crew and families she could for the voyage of the Santa Evangelista. Many who would have normally rejected even the thought of going to a new world were overcome by her sincere Christian spirit and the ultimate goal of bringing souls to faith in Jesus Christ. They found their way to the master seaman of the Santa Evangelista, who checked them out.

Maria knew that she and Juan would use their vocations to bring praise to the true God, to strengthen the body of Christ, and to enlighten the hearts and minds of those living in spiritual darkness. They, too, would be a part of this exciting voyage.

3

The children of Captain Fernando, Pedro and Pablo, were amazed by the size of their father’s ship. As they approached the Santa Evangelista with their mother, they already had visions of storms at sea, the crew shooting pirates, and their father bringing them to a rich, new land full of Indians and unknown adventures.

Being children in sixteenth-century Spain had rewards, especially if one or more of your parents were aristocrats. The boys never worried for food or for protection from cold or storms. They had been born while Juan was in school in Seville. Grandfather Gomez took care of the housing, clothing, and food. They were, after all, the apples of his eye.

But Maria reminded them almost daily that all of the blessings of their lives came from above, from God Himself. It was not because of heritage or pagan luck that they never missed a meal and never