Religion Without Ritual is Like Love Without Touch — But Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
#BeTheChurch movement: The Church isn’t empty — It’s been deployed
Confession: I’ve always been drawn to magnificent cathedrals. They leave us awe-struck. They show me my life and troubles are small compared to the enormity of God, His Universe and His Church.
It took me years to join the simpler, more modern parish down the road: it literally resembles a giant house, designed to encourage a sense of community and “at home’’ feeling. Brighton’s St. Patrick is a super-welcoming parish.
Pandemic reminder: the Church is the Body of Christ: you and me…
My friends love a new meme: “The church is not empty. The church has been deployed. #BeTheChurch.’’ Yes, the Church includes the most impressive real estate portfolio in the world.
But the Church is more: It’s the Body of Christ…
Jesus, founder of the Church, is the head and we are the Body of Christ Each and every baptized Catholic is a cell within the living body of His Church. Even when we are spread us out, kept at a “safe distance,’’ we remain cells of His body, His Church.
Christianity went “went viral’’:
Viruses are contagious and spread fast, we all now know (now more than ever). Christianity itself began this way, going viral: from Christ to His followers to the world.
The mighty Roman Empire? Toppled by the spread of Christianity:
The Romans tried to stop Christianity by banning it, suppressing it, murdering and martyring people, forcing believers underground, into caves and homes. We now know what it means to be forced to be in our homes. Lock them up? The ideas spread even more.
Rome accepted the Church — the viral idea overwhelmed the world
Rome and its old system fell, replaced by “Christian Civilization’’ now known as “Western Civilization.’’ Now as it was then, “the system,’’ is “shut down.’’
The Body is spread out — but we refuse to be isolated…
The secular world bows to the false idol of “technology.’’ Christians are using that technology to share the Word as they never have before. It’s the same way the first Christians harnessed the “newest thing” of their era, Roman highways, to spread the Word.
Our parish just began airing Sunday Mass online. Sacraments are participatory, given and received in person. Watching relationships is nothing like participating in one personally. We miss the closeness. But the Word remains:
“This illness is not to end in death but is for the glory of God,” (John 11:4).
Our crisis has coincided with Lent, the time we honor Christ’s sacrifices for us. Lent began February 26. The fifth Sunday of Lent marked one month since the first American died on February 29. The virus is likely to peak near us on or around April 10, Good Friday, the day Christ died.
Easter marks Christ’s resurrection…
“You are what you listen to,’’ Father Mathias Thelen taught us. “No matter how bad this virus gets, it cannot infect the soul. As Christians, the world can fall apart but we can live in peace… The fact is, each of us is going to die and we live in a kind of make belief avoiding thoughts of death but now we see, ‘This life is not all there is.’’’
Our first online Mass (broadcast on Facebook) was a sacrifice for all involved. Connecting online beats “no contact” so we enjoyed it, knowing it’s not nearly as meaningful as being there in person, to:
“Taste and see the Goodness of the Lord.’’
Before the pandemic, I happened to see our granddaughter, the child of divorce, walk about our house talking to her father via FaceTime. It is totally normal for her and has been for most of her short life. This vision made me cry and smile at once:
She couldn’t be with her father — yet she WAS with him (and us)
Watching this 7-year-old so casually be with us and her father at once struck me as miraculous. The Diary of St. Maria Faustina Kowalska includes a 1930s vision of our century: Faustina saw her congregation in Poland and the people in Rome together celebrating her beatification, all together, yet apart. They were totally allowed to do so by 21st century big screen simulcast technology.
“Nothing in the world explains itself,’’ Bishop Robert Barron says. As a Church, we seek to find answers to the greatest questions.
Sacrifices are actually gifts:
Missing your beloved makes you learn more about that person and yourself. Absence does, indeed, make the heart grow fonder and you experience things you couldn’t experience otherwise.
For example, my friend Tom, is 60 miles away. He is at his parish each Sunday while I’m at mine. But this week, Facebook allowed him and many others to “pop in’’ and be part of our online Mass. Seeds are spreading throughout the world, going viral.
Yesterday, our men’s group met online — a record 32 guys showed up
Every other meeting was “in person,’’ whoever could get to St. Paul on the Lake in Grosse Pointe Farms, Michigan by 7 a.m. participated (that’s usually about 20 great guys). Yesterday 32 men from three states were there interacting in a new way. Next week there should be more.
Each of these men takes what he learns out into his own world…
Our friend Richard Hass felt called to spread the Word. He joined St. Paul Street Evangelization, a locally-based global movement spreading Catholicism around the world. With Michigan in lockdown, he shares faith in different ways:
“We have to minister to the people we know locally,’’ Hass said. “Even if you’re in front of Jesus for five minutes, it makes a difference.’’
Richard and his wife, Kristine, have been ministering to people 65 and older. Working through their parish to make deliveries of food, medicine, “and of course, prayer,’’ they are running errands for elderly parishioners who are most susceptible to the coronavirus.
They’re also helping live stream Masses and funerals and Eucharistic Adoration at St. Joan of Arc parish in St. Clair Shores, reaching people they never would have reached before.
“It’s like Holy Saturday,’’ Hass said of the current pause: no public Masses, people spread out, quiet and at home — but then the Savior returns.
On February 22, we gathered with 1,500 Catholic men…
We gathered at the Accept the Challenge men’s conference at the University of Michigan, where Father Mark Rutherford organized a Eucharistic Procession around an indoor football facility. On Saturday, Rutherford did a Eucharistic Procession in the sky, flying in an airplane. The faithful watched via online flight trackers.
Father Mark and our friend Rory Clark were “the spark’’ that made that conference explode. They told us we were called together for a purpose, to take what we were learning and take it into our own homes and families.
And now all of us are called to do exactly that.
Our rituals and routines have been taken from us…
Without our daily routines and rituals, we can forget what day it is. So everything is new, someplace we’ve never been before. Questions are all around.
So we must now interact with each other in new ways, interacting with people we hadn’t listened to before. Instead of daily Mass, we see daily briefings from President Trump and New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo, a Catholic, just asked what he learned from his father, the late Gov. Mario Cuomo:
“He taught me to trust in love — we need love now,’’ Cuomo said. “It’s about doing the right thing. It’s about love… Eventually, you go through the darkness and you find the light. We’re going to find the light.’’
