When running a 5k obstacle race, the first heat is always dedicated to the serious runners. People who will complete all the obstacles and do so in record time. People who run independently. People who probably trained.
And then there are the rest of us. We don’t have the training and skills. We will probably fail at least one obstacle. We just do the best we can. And we run together. Some obstacles are designed to be a solo challenge, but there are others where those at the top turn and help those behind them who likewise help those who follow.
St. Paul writes, “The community of believers was of one heart and one mind” (Acts 4:32). Christianity is not a race to heaven. There is no elite heat that knows and understands more and does everything better and is therefore superior to others. There is just the body of Christ, comprised of all of us—the erudite to the ignorant, the devout to the lapsed, the whole to the broken. Jesus desires unity and love. We are called to help others, not look down on them. To walk with them, not to race past.
If we turn our backs on those who do not practice their faith according to our standards, who will walk with them and help them grow? If we avoid those who act in ignorance, who will lovingly teach them? Is it every man for himself? Find a church and service that satisfies your preferences and expectations and shun the rest? Where is unity? Where is love? Do you not know that Jesus is there waiting for you? In the Eucharist, yes, but also in the least of His people. Do not cross to the other side of the road when you see your wounded brethren. Tend first to them, as you are able, then worry about the minutiae.
There is nothing wrong with moving toward beautiful liturgies and increased reverence. There is something wrong in doing so with pride and turning your back on your brethren. Jesus didn’t spend three years teaching about the order of the Mass. He taught about humility and love for God and one another. The details that help you grow in the likeness of Christ are good. The ones that you think set you apart and make you superior are dangerous.
I am one of the many who are drawn to beautiful churches and reverent liturgies. They have helped me grow; they have helped me worship. But I am truly grateful for the times I attend Mass at a church with unpalatable music, poor homilies, or other somewhat disconcerting things. Because then I am reminded of why I am really there, of what is truly important, and why it is worth every uncomfortable moment. Being there I am obeying God’s command to worship Him; I am hearing His words and receiving His very self in the Eucharist. And it is also a chance for me to grow in love of those around me. To practice charitable thoughts and humility. To recognize again how unworthy I am to even be there.
Strive to be Christ to others, and to recognize Him in them. If you are in obedience to the Church, then change is a choice, not a necessity. I do not speak against choosing change, but caution that we should never lose sight of the basic tenets of our faith in our efforts to improve how we practice it. Do you think Jesus is filled with joy that you want to show Him more reverence when you criticize and condemn others in the process? Do you not think He instead cries out, “Why do you persecute me?” or sadly asks, “Do you also want to leave me?” as we turn away from those in need of compassion and education?
We cannot solve every problem. We cannot walk with every person. We change the world one encounter, one moment at a time. We must be attentive to what the Lord asks of us. We must recognize that we are on the mission of love, given to us by Jesus, at every moment of our day in the very situations we find ourselves in. We may be called simply to give alms to the poor; we may also be called to give hope and direction to those suffering spiritual poverty. We may not be called to avoid or “fix” a parish or its practices; we may be called simply to bear witness to the real presence of God by how we act toward Him in the Eucharist and how we treat those around us. We may not be called to try to force people to join in our level of devotion; we may be called rather to meet them where they are at, and walk with them. Let us pray that we can learn “how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity” (Ps. 133:1).
Photo by Philip Strong on Unsplash
