The Church and Her Invisible Members

I have entered an interesting phase of my life – a life of invisibility.

My late mother warned me about this; when she was about 80 years old she began to notice that people looked past her to whoever was standing next to her.  Oftentimes a complete stranger was mistaken as her companion by a store clerk or a workman.  Being a feisty Italian woman, she had no difficulty correcting them and getting their attention but it still annoyed her.  “It is going to happen to you”, she told me, over and over again.

And it has begun.

Now I can handle the behavior in a grocery store or when I am at the doctor’s office.  Like my mother, I can firmly but politely regain control of the situation and have them look at me rather than continue searching for the person that should BE with me.  But when I am in the pew at Mass, alone, not holding a grandchild or sitting next to a man and my friendly smile is overlooked by those around me, it can be hurtful. 

To be a part of the Body of Christ is a privilege and not to be taken lightly.  It is dependent upon my Baptism, not whether I am liked or popular at my parish.  However, we cannot overlook that we belong to a Church that emphasizes the importance of families and children.  When one has neither, one can feel like the odd one out.

Telling people like me to ‘just get involved’ isn’t always the answer.  I have served at various apostolates as well as a paid employee.  I am a Third Order Dominican.  However, I am old by society’s standards and am often told that we need to get younger people involved in the parish. After 25 years of service, it may be time to step aside. Stepping aside means I stand alone in the pew without a visible connection to the people around me.

So, what do we do?

This time in my life has been an opportunity to deepen my prayer life and, thus, my connection to God.  My relationship with my patron saints – both my Confirmation Saint and the Saint I chose as my patron when I joined the Dominican Order – has deepened and grown.  I find myself talking with God more and more throughout the day and my dependence upon people, places and things has lessened.  Sure, I would like to be one of those Catholics in the pew beaming over the large family of my own filling the seats, but that was not God’s Will for me.  Instead, God has allowed me to decide whether I want to be Catholic without the twenty grandchildren and everyone over for Christmas dinner.  And the answer is yes.

I am Catholic because The Church is where I find Truth.  Truth gives me comfort, Truth gives me strength, Truth gives me the grace I need to endure an otherwise quiet and solitary life.  While I am far from being a hermit, I have had to cling fast to the love of Truth in times when everything seems so dark.  Doing so allows me to be okay when I leave Mass and no one smiles at me, or nods, or says good-bye.

If I was writing the homilies today, I would emphasize Truth as the reason we should stay in The Church.  What I know is that staying solid, staying real and clinging to Truth is what will allow me to continue to walk towards heaven.

Because, as we know, that is where Truth lies – and where I hope to live in eternity.