
Of note, among the many images that moved me deeply in the aftermath of the Annunciation tragedy, was the large congregation that gathered for Mass at the Saturday evening vigil of Aug. 30.
While unable to gather in the church itself for obvious and terrible reasons, the congregation assembled in its own auditorium. Within that room, the congregation heard the news of salvation, announced into the darkness of grief and bewilderment. They wept and hoped and mourned, waiting for the promise of the resurrection to come to full and glorious fulfillment.
The gathering of that heroic group of believers and supporters was an act of great courage and defiance. It was a communal no to the power of evil and sin, and a great yes to our need to stand together as a single people, united in our belief in the power of God and his salvation.
Gathering as the Church is the essence of what it means to be the people of God. We need each other, and we need Jesus. Jesus is found when two or more are physically gathered in his name, united around the altar of praise that is the heart of every sanctuary. But the candid fact is that whenever we gather together, we face danger. This is the price of a free society, and we do well to remember as we assemble the many Christians around the world who, every single day, must make a choice between physical safety and gathering with fellow believers. But just as real as any physical danger, we face the danger of being changed, a change that will inevitably happen when we seek to love others. And that is exactly what the Mass does — it puts us elbow to elbow with other pilgrims of life, travelers on the road to heaven.
One of the effects of our mobile society is that where we worship is now a very personal choice. For the most part, the neighborhood parish is a thing of the past, at least in most metropolitan cities. If you don’t like the “flavor” of the church down the street, you can always just get in your car and drive to a site much more accommodating to your taste.
Of course, people should have the right to worship where they want, and parents have a great responsibility to find communities that will best support them in the raising of their children in the Catholic faith. But one of the costs of so much choice is that very often parishes and dioceses become just as fragmented as our society as a whole. And this is a scandal, which leads many to believe that ultimately, church is just like politics — tribal. In fact, if we are honest, at times the cable news channel you choose at night could be a pretty good determining factor as to what church you will attend on Sunday.
But what if we were to actually embrace the truth that in Jesus, all are one. That there is no east or west, slave or free person, male or female? What if in the face of the Gospel we all were to repent of our selfishness and strive to see “the other,” whatever their background, party affiliation or personality, as a son or daughter of God? This will change us, and change is hard. But if we want to make the world a better place for our children, let alone save our souls, we must attempt to die to self and to live for unity and peace with fellow believers.
This call for unity should not be interpreted as a shirking from serious debate and significant differences that are real. Part of real love is the willingness to talk about difficult things. But it needs to be rooted in a willingness to make the effort to also see what unites us rather than to harp on those things that separate us. This is especially important in the Christian faith.
Talking to “the other” takes courage. Listening takes even more. But if we can start by worshiping together on Sundays, I think we will have made a significant start.
May our gatherings together, Sunday after Sunday, bear witness to our unity as believers. May we be willing to let down the walls that divide us and cling to the Christ who is the only source of lasting peace in a fallen world. May we announce the good news that all are one in Christ and bring hope and healing to all who will listen.
Behold, we are the servants of the Lord. Fiat!
Father Erickson is parochial vicar of Nativity of Our Lord in St. Paul and interim chairman of the Archdiocesan Liturgical Commission.
