Third Sunday in Ordinary Time A
America magazine
was first published by the Jesuits in New York back in 1909. I haven’t been reading it all that
time, but I have subscribed for about 15 years now. I rarely agree with everything between its covers, but I do always
find it well written and quite thought provoking.
So I was happy when the latest issue appeared in my mailbox
the other day, and brought it along to lunch to look through it. I was just a few pages into it when I
groaned: they had changed my magazine. Right there on page 3, the editor
explained that they’d spent the past year working on this redesign—their entire
staff in consultation with experts in the field—and they were quite certain
that the result was a far better publication. I was not so sure.
Before I’d finished lunch, I had concluded that I didn’t like
the new layout (it’s hard to distinguish the articles from the advertisements),
I didn’t like the new font (it’s more difficult to read, and my eyes aren’t
getting any younger), and I didn’t like some changes they’d made to the contents
(one of my favorite features of America
has always been the letters to the editor, since they often print many of them
and they’re usually a bit juicy…but in this issue at least, they seemed to have
been cut by more than half).
While I was grimacing over the changes made to America the magazine this week, others
were reacting to possible changes to America the nation as a new President was
inaugurated. Some, of course, are
very hopeful and rejoicing at a victory…but others are quite unsettled, and
even fearful about what changes may lay ahead.
Change is never easy.
The older I get, the less I like it. And yet, with more experience under my belt, the more I’ve
come to realize that the alternative to change is actually death. When a living thing stops changing, it is because it has
died. Blessed John Henry Newman once
put it so well: “To live is to change, and to be perfect is to have changed often.” No, change isn’t ever easy, but it’s
part of the very essence of life.
I realize that America
magazine started to contemplate making a few changes right about the same time
that we did the same here at St. André’s.
It was a year ago that the Pastoral Council and I began a lengthy,
detailed process of long range, strategic planning for the parish. We prayed a lot. We talked a lot. We gathered all kinds of information
and studied it a lot. We met twice
as much as usual so that we could give enough time and attention to a project
as important as this. In November,
we shared with you the first fruits of our labors, mailing out to all our parishioners
our Proposed Pastoral Plan.
And because our work was not done, we asked you to come to a
listening session; between 125-150 parishioners came, and 21 of them spoke that
evening—making comments, asking questions, and expressing concerns. And in the two months since then, we’ve
been gathering your written responses; we’ve received 20 of them to date. (To be precise: we’ve received 18; one
was sent to The Malone Telegram, and one
was sent to Bishop LaValley…but those comments eventually found their way to
us, too.) The Pastoral Council and
I are carefully considering all of this input as we continue to work on the Pastoral
Plan.
It seems to me that now is a good time to share with you
some observations, based on what’s been shared with us these past couple of
months. In reviewing the letters
that have come in and the transcripts of the listening session, there are five
themes, five common threads, that I want to highlight today.
(1) There seems to be a general impression that the Pastoral
Plan is a done deal—and that we’re rushing into it irresponsibly. I’m not sure how many more ways I can
say it, or how to make it more convincing, but no final decisions have been made. We wouldn’t be putting either you or ourselves through this
process if everything were already figured out. The Plan remains a work in progress. And as far as rushing—one of our
Pastoral Council members addressed this head on at our meeting last
Monday. He’s the longest serving
member of the Council, and has a lot of not-for-profit and administrative experience. His observation wasn’t that we’re
moving too fast, but that we’ve gone too slow. He pointed out that we’ve been at this for 15 years already
(the first meetings to form Malone Catholic Parishes began all the way back in
2002). It breaks his heart to
think of the opportunities and resources that have been squandered because we’ve
been overly cautious.
(2) There is also quite a lot of misinformation out
there. I suspect most of it is
innocent. People remember things
partially, or misremember them.
Many are forming opinions based on a limited amount of information—what
they’ve personally seen, heard, or experienced—which is only natural. A plan for our entire parish, however,
must take in the full breadth of the big picture. Unfortunately, however, there also seem to be some folks who
are quick to jump to false conclusions, or who prefer to rely on the word on
the street rather than the facts on the ground. Please don’t get swept up in what’s churching out from the
rumor mill. If you’re looking for
information, ask me, or ask a member of our parish staff, or ask a member of
the Pastoral Council, and we’ll get you the answers you’re looking for. We have nothing to hide.
(3) If there’s any consensus out there about the Pastoral
Plan, it seems to be this: “Fr. Joe, leave everything alone! Don’t change a thing!” No one, of course, has come out and said
that in so many words…but several folks have said, “I really don’t want my church to close since I have so many
memories there…and the folks at that church have said they feel the same way…and
I’ve heard it from the other churches, too…” I certainly appreciate this heartfelt sentiment. It would actually be the easiest option
for both you and me to change nothing at all. But the status quo isn’t really an option. We don’t have the people in the pews we
once had. And we don’t have the
money in the collection basket that we once had, either. And the community around us and its
needs are changing, too. Change is
part of staying alive.
These last two are the core of what I want to speak to this
Sunday.
(4) There is an awful lot of negativity and mistrust surrounding
the Pastoral Plan. Some pretty
serious accusations have been leveled against me personally and against the Pastoral
Council: that we have been intentionally deceiving parishioners; that this is
all about stealing money from one church in order to pay for things at another;
that the Proposed Plan is actually the end product of a long-term conspiracy of
the sort that would make Vladimir Putin jealous. (You folks give me far, far too much credit!) To give you a sense of how far this
goes: I was actually heckled while preaching this homily earlier today, when a
man in the back called out, “Liar! Liar!”
I can’t be sure where this attitude of mistrust is coming from, but I
know where it will lead—and that’s nowhere good. We cannot move forward into the future if we cannot trust
one another.
(5) This final theme has come up so often that there must be
some truth behind it: we keep hearing that our parish just isn’t as warm and
welcoming as it ought to be. Mind
you, I have never once heard this from a visitor to any of our churches; in
fact, they often say quite the opposite.
But a notable number of parishioners have commented on St. André’s being
inhospitable. When folks attend a different
Mass than usual, they get the impression that they’re an intruder in their own parish
church. That simply cannot be how
we treat one another. If this is
true, then we’re all a part of the problem, and we all must be a part of the
solution.
In our second reading this Sunday, we hear St. Paul writing
to the Corinthians—writing to a church that’s divided within itself. He really could be writing to Christians
in any age, and so I’ve taken the liberty to make a few updates to his words:
I
urge you, brothers and sisters, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ,
that
all of you agree in what you say,
and
that there be no divisions among you,
but
that you be united in the same mind and in the same purpose.
For
it has been reported to me about you, my brothers and sisters,
that
there are rivalries among you.
I
mean that each of you is saying,
"I
belong to St. John Bosco," or "I belong to St. Helen’s,"
or
"I belong to St. Joseph’s," or "I belong to Notre Dame."
Is
Our Lady divided?
Were
St. Joseph or St. John Bosco or St. André crucified for you?
Or
were you baptized in the name of St. Helen?
No. So carry on in such a way that the
cross of Christ
might
not be emptied of its meaning.
Now, neither I nor St. Paul are saying that Christians must
be in perfect agreement on absolutely everything. Where there is more than one person, there are bound to be differences
of opinion! And I am well aware
that there have been deep divisions among the Catholics of our community over
the years: between the French and the Irish, between the rich and the poor,
between the folks who lived in the village and those out in the country. My friends, those divisions must now be
a matter of our history, because our future is all tied up together. Of course we will disagree about some
things; such diversity—like change—is a sign of our life and vitality. The question isn’t whether or not we
disagree; it’s about how we disagree.
Our differences must never
be marked by animosity or suspicion, which only serve to further our
divisions. Instead, our differences
must always be marked by true Christian charity. Christ didn’t
die on the Cross that he might see his Body torn further apart; rather, he died
to give us an example of the sort of love which should mark us as belonging to
him even when we disagree.
The prophet Isaiah draws our attention to the fact that many
people walk in darkness, that some are dwelling in gloom and the shadow of
death. He does so in order to point
to the coming of the light: the arrival of a Savior who will banish the
darkness forever. This
Sunday’s sad anniversary of the legalization of abortion in our country is just
one of many such dark corners in our land as we recall the millions of innocent
lives that have been lost. As disciples
of Jesus, it falls to us to reflect his light into this darkness…but if we are
divided against one another, then we aren’t reflecting his light; we’re
actually spreading the darkness.
If we treat one another with cold suspicion, then who would ever believe
our witness to light and life?
Consider Jesus walking along the shores of the Sea of Galilee,
as he calls first Peter and Andrew, and then James and John. Do you think Jesus handed them a
complete, detailed plan before he said, “Come, follow me”? Of course not! They had no idea what changes were in
store for them—and for the whole world!
But these fishermen were able to trust that he had a plan, and that his
plan would be what was best. And it’s
because they trusted Jesus, and others trusted them, that we are here in this
church this morning. Don’t get me
wrong: I am not asking you to trust in me the way you ought to trust in Jesus
Christ! But we do have to trust
one another, and together put our complete trust in him, in order to move
ahead. Even more than listening to
each other, we need to be listening to Jesus and the plan he has for St. André’s Parish…without ever knowing everything he
has in store for us.
America magazine
has changed many times in the course of its 100+ years, making changes in order
to stay vital and relevant in a changing world. The fact that it’s still in print says that those changes have
been, by and large, good ones. When
I took the time to sit down with a cup of tea the other evening and actually
read through this new issue, I discovered something: it’s really pretty
good. No, not perfect, but much
better than I expected. I just
needed to give it a chance.
There have been Catholics here in Malone for just shy of 200
years now, and over the course of these past two centuries they have witnessed
many, many changes in the practice of their faith. And we’re still here, the Church is still alive, only because
it has continued to grow and change.
Let us grow in our trust for one another as we put our full
trust in the Lord and his plans for our future. Let us open our hearts and allow Christ to change us.
