Celebrating Mass at Sea

Much of the ordinary life we enjoy in South Texas depends on workers most of us never see. Our homes are supplied, industries move, fuel arrives, and the rhythm of daily life continues. But behind that normal life are seafarers whose labor helps keep cities functioning, even while they themselves often remain out of sight.

That reality is especially clear here in Corpus Christi. The Port of Corpus Christi is one of the most important ports in the United States. City records describe it as the third-largest U.S. port by total waterborne tonnage, the nation’s largest energy export gateway, and the largest U.S. export port for crude oil. The same report says that the Port and its customers moved 206.5 million tons in 2024, marking a seventh consecutive record year, and that the Port exports roughly 60% of all U.S. oil exports.

This is not only a local matter. The U.S. Bureau of Transportation Statistics reports that waterborne vessels moved 41.5% of the value of U.S. international trade in goods in 2023, or $2.1 trillion. Behind such numbers are human beings whose work supports homes, businesses, hospitals, industries, and communities across this country.

Recently, I had the privilege of visiting the vessel Spring Jasmine at the Port of Corpus Christi. It was more than a visit to a ship. It was an encounter with men whose hidden labor sustains the everyday life many of us take for granted. In speaking with some of the crew, I was reminded that behind cargo, fuel, supplies, and the steady movement of commerce, there are human beings carrying fatigue, sacrifice, distance, and often loneliness.
That is why this ministry matters.

As Chaplain of the Port of Corpus Christi, in collaboration with Stella Maris and the Corpus Christi International Seafarers Center, I have become more aware that seafarers are among the hidden workers of our world. Many spend long months away from their families, their home countries, and their faith communities. During my visit, one crew member shared that they had been away from family for about nine months. That kind of separation is not small. It carries emotional, spiritual, and human weight.
While many of us return home at the end of the day, they remain at sea. While many of us worship in our churches on Sunday, people of the sea are often far from any church. While many of us are surrounded by family and friendship, they continue their journey with duty, endurance, and hope.

And yet, only a few remember them. That should matter to us as Christians.

In the Gospels, Jesus never ignored those whom society overlooked. He touched the leper no one wanted to come near (Mk 1:40–45), stopped for blind Bartimaeus when others tried to silence him (Mk 10:46–52), spoke with the Samaritan woman across social and religious boundaries (Jn 4:1–42), and called Zacchaeus down from the tree when many saw only a sinner (Lk 19:1–10). Again and again, Jesus restored dignity to those pushed to the margins. He saw not a burden, but a person. That same Christ still calls His Church to see the person, not just the function; the soul, not just the service.

Seafarers are not only part of a supply chain or an economic system. They are persons made in the image of God (Gen 1:26 – 27). They are sons and daughters, fathers and husbands, believers and seekers. They are not machines moving goods from one place to another. They are human beings who also need prayer, encouragement, attention, and spiritual care.
During the visit to Spring Jasmine, the ministry was not limited to conversation. The crew requested the sacraments. It was a profound grace not only to listen to their stories, but also to celebrate the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass with them on the ship.
That moment stays with me.

For a brief time, that vessel became more than a place of labor. It became a place of prayer, communion, and grace. Christ came to meet men who had been far from home and far from their ordinary faith communities, yet who still carried a hunger for God.
That is one of the beautiful truths of the Catholic faith: the Church goes where her people are. She does not remain only within parish walls. She crosses distances. She enters places of labor and struggles. She brings Christ to those whose hidden sacrifices help sustain the lives of others.

Sometimes the Gospel is preached from the pulpit. Other times, it is preached at sea.
This ministry also says something important to us here in South Texas. Corpus Christi is a port city. The life of the port is part of the life of this community. Yet many of us may not realize how closely our daily lives are connected to those who labor on the sea. The men aboard these vessels may never sit in our pews on a given Sunday, but they are still our brothers in humanity, and often our brothers in faith.

Their struggles may be hidden from us, but they are not hidden from God. And they should not be hidden from the Church.

To be Catholic is to be universal. It means the heart of the Church must stretch beyond her buildings and reach those who are unseen, forgotten, or far from home. It means being present wherever human beings carry burdens that others do not notice.
That is why the port ministry is both pastoral and deeply human. It reminds us that faith is not an escape from the world. Faith teaches us how to see the world rightly. It teaches us to notice dignity where others see only labor. It teaches us to honor persons where others notice only products. It teaches us to bring Christ to places where He may be deeply desired, even if quietly.
My visit to Spring Jasmine left me with a simple conviction: we cannot claim to love the world Christ died for if we only notice the people the world already notices.

Seafarers help keep our cities running. They help sustain the ordinary life many of us take for granted. They deserve more than our dependence on their labor. They deserve our prayer, our gratitude, our attention, and our care.

So when we benefit from anything in our lives that their labor makes possible, perhaps we should ask: do we receive only what they carry, or do we also remember and acknowledge the people who carry it?