fellow pilgrims

The credibility of the Christian message would be much
greater if Christians could overcome their divisions and
the Church could realize “the fullness of catholicity proper
to her in those of her children who, though joined to her
by baptism, are yet separated from full communion with
her.” We must never forget that we are pilgrims journeying
alongside one another. This means that we must have
sincere trust in our fellow pilgrims, putting aside all
suspicion or mistrust, and turn our gaze to what we are all
seeking: the radiant peace of God’s face.

Pope Francis, Evangelii Gaudium, 244

Ilia Delio on catholicity

A beautiful little book arrived in the mail to me the other day from Amazon.com.  I am not sure if it was ordered for me by my Dad or by his friend Nelson.  The book is Making All Things New: Catholicity, Cosmology and Consciousness, by Franciscan sister, Ilia Delio.  Dr. Delio is Director of the Catholic Studies Program and Visiting Professor at Georgetown University.  She holds doctorates in pharmcology and historical theology.

So far I have only read the introduction, and I am thoroughly intrigued.  She presents the term catholicity as derived from the Greek work katholicos, meaning "of the whole," or "a sense of wholeness," describing attunement to the universe, in harmony with both the physical and spiritual order of the world.  Early Christians later adopted the word catholic to describe the Church as disciples gathered in the name of Christ.  Only over time did the emphasis of the word shift from wholeness to orthodoxy.  Delio states "Catholicity does not mean that everyone is to become Catholic;  rather to be catholic is to be aware of belonging  to a whole and to act according to the whole, including the galaxies, stars, earth, animals, plants and human life."

My favorite part of the introduction to the book is an extended quote from a letter from Pope John Paul II to Father George Coyne, S.J., Director of the Vatican Observatory.  Saint John Paul II wrote "Science develops best when its concepts and conclusions can be integrated into the wider human culture and its concerns for ultimate meaning and value."  Sister Delio adds to this, the observation that "Religion, too, develops best when its doctrines are not abstract and fixed in an ancient past, but integrated into the wider stream of life."

The quote from Pope John Paul II continues,

The church does not propose that science should become religion or religion science.  On the contrary, unity always presupposes the diversity and integrity of its elements.  Each of these elements should become not less itself but more itself in a dynamic interchange, for a unity in which one of the elements is reduced to the other is destructive, false in its promises of harmony, and ruinous of the integrity of its components.  We are asked to become one. We are not asked to become each other. ... Unity involves the drive of the human mind towards understanding and the desire of the human spirit for love. ... We move towards unity as we move towards meaning in our lives.  Unity is also the consequence of love.  If love is genuine, it moves not toward the assimilation of the other, but toward union with the other.  Human community begins in desire when that union has not been achieved, and it is completed in joy when those who have been apart are now united.

Although the late pope was speaking of science and religion, my mind turns toward the application of his words to Christian unity.  Ever since I began thinking about requesting reception into the Catholic Church, I have struggled with a sense of how to embrace the goal of wholeness represented by the word "catholic", without compromising the integrity of my existing Christian life, formed in a variety of Protestant Churches.  There is not yet a path, as far as I can tell, for a Protestant Christian to become united to the Catholic Church without becoming Catholic, that is without "becoming the other,"  which Pope John Paul II describes as ruinous.  I did, in fact, experience a sense of ruin in my spiritual life--a disconnectedness from my true self, from that part of myself that was able to pray.  My goal was not to "convert" to a different strand of Christianity but to broaden my understanding of what it means to be Christian.  My motivation was very much like what John Paul II describes as "the drive of the human mind towards understanding and the desire of the human spirit for love."  As John Paul II explains, genuine love moves toward union rather than assimilation.  My experience of the Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults (RCIA) in the Catholic Church was that it was designed for assimilation rather than for union.  I wonder what a program designed for growth in mutual understanding and love would look like?  Could there be a ritual by which Protestant Christians who desire greater unity with the Catholic Church could be formally recognized and welcomed by that Church while continuing their ongoing conversion to Christ both within the context of their original church, and also in communion with the Catholic Church?

intercession through the communion of saints, yes! (but for the right reasons)

This year's Bridgefolk conference (grass roots Mennonite-Catholic dialog) focused on the theme of the communion of saints and intercessory prayer.  Over the course of the weekend we heard multiple perspectives on the story of a Japanese Mennonite man, Jun Yamada, studying at a Catholic university in Japan, who was miraculously healed of leukemia a quarter-century ago, following the combined prayers of Mennonites and Catholics together.  This miracle was investigated and validated by the Vatican, leading to the canonization of St. Joseph Freinadametz (a 19th century Catholic missionary in China), whose intercession for Jun had been invoked by Jun's professor, Fr. Fauzone.  Both Fr. Fauzone, and Jun's brother, Nozomu Yamada were present at this year's Bridgefolk conference, enabling us to hear the story first hand.  The conference was held at Anabaptist Mennonite Biblical Seminary (AMBS), in Elkhart, Indiana, where NozomuYamada had been a student when he received the call communicating the expected, imminent death of his brother, Jun.  We learned that at the canonization ceremony, Pope John Paul II remarked that "we should have this type of miracle more often," referring to the ecumenical nature of the prayer that led to the miracle. 

In the discussion that followed one of the presentations, one Catholic of Mennonite origin explained that seeking the intercession of saints had been one of the easiest of his initial objections to Catholicism for him to let go of.  In his view, the "cloud of witnesses" mentioned in Hebrews chapter 11, coupled with Protestant willingness to seek intercessory prayer from living Christians, especially from those one considers to be holy, laid ample foundation for seeking intercession from faithful Christian witnesses throughout the ages.  Another Mennonite responded that it was still important to him to affirm that Christians can go directly to God in prayer, without the aid of an intercessor.

I appreciated and could identify with both comments.  I like the idea that when we die and go to live with God eternally, joining the cloud of witnesses, that God allows us to continue to cooperate with his salvation of the world through our prayers for and with those still struggling on Earth.  I find that more appealing than the thought of having my individuality merely absorbed into God after I die.

The second comment touched on my own distaste, not for the practice itself of seeking intercession from the communion of saints, but for the way it is sometimes explained and defended, suggesting that God is more likely to answer our prayers if they go through someone important, through someone holier than us.  This seems to present an image of God as distant and difficult to access, which runs counter to Jesus's story about the prayers of the Pharisee and the publican, and to his teaching on prayer, which presents God as eager to give us what we need, as a Father would give his son a loaf of bread rather than a scorpion.  Nothing I can think of in the Bible, portrays God as someone who is reluctant to answer prayer and who needs to be sweet-talked by those who are close to him on behalf of ordinary Christians.  To encourage Christians to entrust their prayers to a saint because that saint is closer to God than we are seems to encourage us to cultivate a greater sense of our own distance from God, under the guise of greater reverence for God. 

I see intercession as a gift that Christians give to each other.  It is an expression of love.  Sometimes the only thing we are able to do to help someone we love is to pray for them.  When we ask a friend to pray for us, it is not because we think that God does not hear our own prayers, but because we want the support of our friends.  We want to know that they are one with us in what we are asking.  There may very well be some sense in which God's grace is able to flow more freely when Christians pray together, united in their desire for God's work.  This may be true whether it is Christians alive today who unite themselves in prayer, or whether it is Christians on Earth today uniting themselves to Christians who are living now in God's presence. 

I have found that in times of great distress or serious illness I sometimes feel too overwhelmed to pray myself, and it is a comfort in those times to know that others are praying for me.  This was especially true when I underwent a bone marrow transplant for leukemia in 1997.  I remember expressing concern to my family and friends as I lay in a hospital bed, facing an uncertain future, that I felt unable to pray.  I was quite disconcerted about this, for it seemed to me that of all the times in my life, this was a most important time to be deeply engaged in prayer.  I was reassured by the words of someone close to me who said, "That's ok.  This is a time when you can relax in the knowledge that we are all praying for you."  And I did gratefully relax into that knowledge.

In a similar manner, I have found comfort recently in entrusting difficult situations to the intercession of Mary, the Undoer of Knots.  Sometimes I find myself trapped in my own thoughts that go round and round without reaching clarity, unsure of how to move forward, and unsure, even, of how to pray.  In these situations, I may be unsure whether my prayers are genuine or self-deceiving, and I may be painfully aware of my own forgetfulness and inattentiveness to prayer throughout the day.  In these times, it can be comforting to entrust my need to the intercession of Mary or of some other saint I have read about who seems like they might understand my situation.  It's not that this replaces my own efforts to pray to the Holy Trinity, but it supports and complements my own prayer, and comforts me knowing that others are praying for me during those moments and hours when I am too distracted or angry or tired or bored or confused to pray to God myself.  It is my hope that the intercession of the saints helps to sustain and develop my relationship with God by praying, when I am unable to do so myself, for precisely those things that will draw me back into a direct relationship of prayer with God.

There was a time when I wanted to ask my Catholic friends, "How do you decide when to pray to Mary and when to pray to God?"  I never had the nerve to actually ask that question, but today I would answer it for myself, that I pray to God whenever I can and as much as I can, and I ask for the prayers of friends living and dead when I feel stymied, unmotivated, blocked or unable to sense God's presence in my life--not because God is, in fact, distant, but because I feel distant from God and desire the support of others to help facilitate my reunion with God.