Will you do what love does?

"He will make his home among them; they shall be his people, and he will be their God; his name is God-with-them."

St. John's apocalyptic vision in the second reading, which comes from the very end of the Bible, should be one of profound consolation for the Church, and for those of us who make up the Body of Christ, which is the Church. If ever you are feeling down about the state of Christianity, I do recommend turning to the last page of the Bible, and there you will see that we do win in the end. As Catholics, this should be our confidence.

However, it is not just a reality for an eschatological future. The future reality when God will make His home with among His people, has already begun to take shape. Sure, we are not in the new heavens or the new earth yet - but whenever we make our spiritual home around the Tabernacle, where Jesus dwells, we should know that He has begun to fulfil this promise already. 

Citing this passage from the Apocalypse, the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches:

[T]he church has an eschatological significance. To enter into the house of God, we must cross a threshold, which symbolizes passing from the world wounded by sin to the world of the new Life to which all men are called. The visible church is a symbol of the Father's house toward which the People of God is journeying and where the Father "will wipe every tear from their eyes." (Catechism of the Catholic Church, §1186)

Our churches are holy places, because it is here, par excellence, where the Risen Christ dwells upon earth among His people. And it is here that the Sacred Liturgy, the worship willed by God takes place. When we celebrate Mass we are not going through a service which we have invented - we are participating in a Liturgy which we have received from God, a Liturgy which is celebrated in union with the eternal Liturgy of heaven. Sure, it feels very earthly, very man-made sometimes; Liturgy is human because of our participation. However, it is also Divine because of God's participation, and it is therefore truly the place where heaven touches earth. This is why it matters that we come to Church on Sundays.

It was above all on "the first day of the week," Sunday, the day of Jesus' resurrection, that the Christians met "to break bread." From that time on down to our own day the celebration of the Eucharist has been continued so that today we encounter it everywhere in the Church with the same fundamental structure. It remains the center of the Church's life. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, §1343)

The Sunday celebration of the Lord's Day and his Eucharist is at the heart of the Church's life. "Sunday is the day on which the paschal mystery is celebrated in light of the apostolic tradition and is to be observed as the foremost holy day of obligation in the universal Church." (Catechism of the Catholic Church, §2177)

The Sunday Eucharist is the foundation and confirmation of all Christian practice. For this reason the faithful are obliged to participate in the Eucharist on days of obligation, unless excused for a serious reason (for example, illness, the care of infants) or dispensed by their own pastor.119 Those who deliberately fail in this obligation commit a grave sin. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, §2181)

As many of you will have heard by now, the Bishops of England and Wales have decided that the situation with the Covid-19 pandemic has improved enough, now, that the ordinary obligation for Catholics to attend Mass on Sundays can safely be restored on Pentecost Sunday. I want to emphasise, that it remains the case that if anyone is avoiding crowds or meeting others because of serious concerns for their health, or for another serious reason, then the obligation to attend Mass is dispensed. They should, in this case find some other appropriate way to keep the Sabbath Holy. For those, however, who have returned to normal life, the Bishops are suggesting this is an important moment to resume normal Catholic practice, as well.

I want to point out something obvious, though. When we speak of the Bishop's restoring the Sunday obligation, what we are not talking about is them 'making people go to Mass.' The Bishops, in our free democracy, have absolutely no power whatsoever to force anyone to come to Mass. I, as one of your pastors, cannot make you come to Mass. In the end, we are as free after Pentecost Sunday as before. But how will we choose to use that freedom?

While the Church cannot force anyone to Church on Sunday, She does, nevertheless, have a duty to point out the reality of the spiritual situation. God, from the earliest days of the Church, asked His people to gather around Him on a Sunday. If I choose to put something else ahead of this, then logically, I am putting something else ahead of God's will. What is greater in my life than God? God is, by definition, the highest and greatest value that there is - if I am putting something else ahead of Him, then something has gone skew-whiff in my spiritual life.

Let me be clear, there are times when we are inhibited, against our wills, from attending Mass. We may be sick, or caring for someone who is sick; we may have tried to get to Mass, honestly, but failed due to circumstances beyond our control; or, we may have found ourselves bound by employment obligations which we cannot escape. In these situations, we are not making a free choice to disobey God. On the other hand, there may be times when, perhaps with some inconvenience, we could go to Mass, but choose not to.

Brothers and sisters, at times one gets the sense today that Christians expect following Christ to be easy and convenient. If this is you, please urgently read any one of the four Gospels. 

As Paul and Barnabus put it to the people of Antioch:

‘We all have to experience many hardships before we enter the kingdom of God.’

Our forefathers, and indeed foremothers, in the faith willingly embraced Christianity, knowing that martyrdom was a really, quite likely consequence. If the worst we have to suffer is missing some Sunday hobbies or social activities, then we really should count ourselves fortunate, indeed. And, if we choose to put those things ahead of God, we need really to ask ourselves some searching questions about whether God is in the right place in our hearts and lives.

I honestly do not mean to sound flippant about this. I do appreciate and understand that there are very difficult family and personal circumstances for many Catholics today. However, if our Sunday practice is a little ropey, we do need to ask ourselves searching questions about whether my situation is one of genuine impossibility, or whether, with a little heroism, I might be able to love God that little bit more.

As a celibate priest I look on new mothers, rising several times a night to care for their babies, as a little bit heroic. However, whilst I'm sure many would appreciate the recognition, I'm equally sure that all would say that that is just what love does - it goes the extra mile. In a certain sense new mothers are obliged by law to care for their children - but that is not what gets them up at 3am; love does. 

As the Bishops restore the obligation to go to Mass in this country at Pentecost, perhaps we need to hear God saying the Church in England and Wales - will you commit afresh to doing what love does, for me?

I'm Catholic... but

Listening to the Voice of the Good Shepherd

"The sheep that belong to me listen to my voice; I know them and they follow me. I give them eternal life; they will never be lost."

It is possible to hear sound, without listening to it. It is possible to hear the sound-waves made by a person speaking, and yet afterwards but unable to say the meaning or words the person was trying to communicate. Listening - really taking in the meaning of words - requires effort.

The analogy that Jesus uses today relates to the pastoral - that is shepherding - context, with which his audience were presumably familiar; otherwise he would have used another analogy. In Jesus' day the shepherd would have been, quite frankly, rather intimate with his flock. There were not stable divisions of secure fields where shepherds left their sheep contained overnight, safe. The shepherd stayed with them pretty much all the time - think, Whilst Shepherds Watch Their Flock By Night. Not infrequently, of course, shepherds would come together, to trade, or simply for company and security in numbers and then the flocks would become somewhat mixed up. But they could not always stay like this, for there would not be enough pasture. The shepherds would often need to separate to find enough food for their own flock without competing with others. At this point, it seems, the sheep would - generally, at least - simply follow after the voice of their own shepherd. Such was the familiarity between them.

This is the analogy that Jesus uses for the calling of His faithful - for calling to Him those He will give eternal life. 

In today's modern society, it can increasingly feel like we live in a great swarm of different flocks coming together. Different religions, different political ideologies, different social identities. And, in quite a similar way, from that body, Jesus Christ the Good Shepherd calls to His own, knowing that His own will listen to His voice, recognise and follow as He leads them to pasture.

There are so many voices today in our society, calling out for followers, calling out for sheep. Our culture invites us to treat all the voices as equal, and go after the one that takes our fancy. However, for the authentic Christian there can be no choice, no mistake - he or she must follow after the voice of the Good Shepherd. And yet... those other voices can be tempting.

How often do we hear Catholics today say things like - 'I'm Catholic but... I don't believe XYZ' or 'I'm Catholic... but I think the Church should take the teaching about...'? It is hard to escape the reality that even within the Church, some have begun to see Christian teaching as simply one voice among many in the public square, from which they can choose their favourite. 

And, yet, in doing so they are missing the voice of the Lord. 

When He was establishing His Church, Jesus told those He was commissioning to go out in His name "he who hears you, hears me" (Luke 10.16; cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, 87). When the Church, drawing on the accumulated wisdom of the People of God down through the millennia, teaches authoritatively, it is not the Church we hear, but Jesus Christ, teaching anew in our day. And, as His voice rings out, He is drawing those who really belong to Him to follow Him to the pasture, which is eternal life.

I know it can be really hard, at times, to listen to teachings from priests and Bishops - even Popes - when their lives do not model what they are teaching. "The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat; so practise and observe whatever they tell you, but not what they do; for they preach, but do not practice." It is a sad and shocking thing that ministers of the Church are anything less than holy; but this is a Church made up of sinners - like you and me. And God has chosen to work with it, to make His truth known.

In the end, brothers and sisters, I wonder how many of those Catholics who struggle and compromise in following the voice of Christ as He teaches through the Church have actually really tuned in to listen to that teaching? How many Catholics in Western Europe who have chosen to live together before marriage, have actually sought to understand the beauty of the Church's teaching on chastity? How many Catholics in Africa, living in polygamous marriages, have really interiorised the profound image of Christ's love for the Church that true Christian marriage embodies? How many American Catholics, who may have embraced the death penalty, have really examined their consciences to see if they believe in Christian forgiveness? How many married couples embracing artificial birth control stopped to consider why the Church teaches what She teaches?

When I treat the accumulated wisdom of Judeo-Christian tradition as simply one voice among many in the background of my life to choose from, then I am not hearing it for what it is - the voice of the Good Shepherd. And I am allowing the voice of the Good Shepherd to be something which I hear, but to which I do not listen, or listen deeply. 

Let that not be us, brothers and sisters. Let us rather be like sheep who hear the familiar voice, and listen to it attentively - and listening, even if it challenges us, follow His voice; for His is the only one that leads us to the pasture of eternal life.