My Church, Your Church, Our Church, or The Church?

When asked about attending sister church for a special service (both shared the same pastor), a parishioner replied "No, I'm going to my church."  Innocent enough, that comment made a tiny hair on the back of my neck stand up, and I have learned not to ignore it.  Their reply triggered thoughts which led me to write this article, for their reply was indicative of an incorrect definition of the Church.

My cluster of six parishes is in a rural area that once upon a time had six pastors, and now we have one priest serving us.  Times have changed the spiritual landscape in both rural and urban areas.  Population shifts, lower attendance and a shortage of priests have negatively impacted many parishes.  Often buildings are being shuttered and, naturally, this upsets parishioners.  Many people love “their” church and hold memories of weddings and funerals, baptisms and confirmations.  In some cases it may have been the only place a person ever attended mass.  This emotional tie to a building is completely understandable from a human perspective.  Our old nature is strongly linked to the temporal and yet, that perspective clashes with God and what he desires of us. 

Consider how God was perfectly fine ruling the Hebrews from a tent in the Old Testament, but the people took issue with that. They wanted a human “king” to rule them (not God directly), so God gave them king Saul, then king David (who wanted to build a permanent dwelling for God), and finally king Solomon who built the first temple.  Though God acquiesced in both instances, allowing a mortal king and temporal building, neither lasted.  Fast forward to the time of Christ and we see two groups who clash on where to worship God; the Samaritans and the Jews.  These two groups both claimed Abraham as their spiritual father and were not on friendly terms.  Each claiming God, the Samaritans worshipped him on Mount Gerizim, while the Jews worshipped in the second temple at Jerusalem.  When Jesus - a Jew - held discourse with the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well (John 4), she asked him, “Are you greater than our father, Jacob, who gave us this well?  Our fathers worshipped on this mountain; and you say that in Jerusalem is the place where we ought to worship.”  To this Jesus replied, “Woman, the hour is coming when the Father will be worshipped at neither location. True worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and in truth; for the Father seeks such worship.  God is a Spirit; and those who worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.”   Now the words of Jesus were pregnant with meaning she could not, of course, understand.  For in his simple reply, Jesus foretold the destruction of the second temple at Jerusalem (which did occur in 70 A.D.), as well as the coming of the universal Church.  And what is the universal Church but the spiritual body of Christ found in heaven and on earth. 

A thrill for me as a convert is that I may travel anywhere in this world and formally worship God wherever a Catholic parish exists.  We are all and everywhere on the same spiritual page.  And though we have been abundantly blessed with gorgeous structures around the globe for gathering, the true spirit of what Christ said may be better reflected on the battlefield where soldiers received the holy Eucharist in tents or under a canopy of trees. 

I wish I could empathize with those who are possessive of a place or suffering personal disappointment when doors close behind so many memories; it is just not how I was raised. Attending sixteen schools in four states with a family always on the move did not allow the luxury of temporal bonding.  Oh, for certain, there was a time when I was growing up that I dreamed to have a family like the Walton’s on television.  Three generations raised on one family homestead.   How anchored they must have been!  Like Scarlet O’Hara who thought everything would work out if she could just get back to Tara.  Thankfully, however, I was glad my day dream was just that, and that I had no physical “home” to speak of.  It turned out that my home was wherever my parents were, and now that they are gone, I may truly sing that old hymn, “This world is not my home, I'm just passing through.  My treasures lay above, somewhere beyond the blue.”

As Catholics we should keep at the forefront of our mind that the things of this world are passing away.  Indeed, we are commanded to not become attached to places or things (I John 2:15-17), but to God and people (Mark 12:30-31).  It is not my, your or even our church, but the Church and it exists without walls.  Ground yourself on the eternal rock and you will never experience a foundation that gives way.