Our first child seemed reluctant to be born. The baby (we didn't yet know whether boy or girl) was almost two weeks overdue, however, when we went to Mass one Sunday in March, so we knew that we would have a newborn child in our home before the Lord's day came around again. We heard this first reading at that Mass:
And Jesse made seven of his sons pass before Samuel. And Samuel said to Jesse, "The LORD has not chosen these." And Samuel said to Jesse, "Are all your sons here?" And he said, "There remains yet the youngest, but behold, he is keeping the sheep." And Samuel said to Jesse, "Send and fetch him; for we will not sit down till he comes here."
And he sent, and brought him in. Now he was ruddy, and had beautiful eyes, and was handsome. And the LORD said, "Arise, anoint him; for this is he."
Then Samuel took the horn of oil, and anointed him in the midst of his brothers; and the Spirit of the LORD came mightily upon David from that day forward. And Samuel rose up, and went to Ramah. (1 Samuel 16:10-13)
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| St. Frances X. Cabrini Church, Scituate, MA (Boston Globe photo) |
We had not yet settled on a name for our baby, although "David" was on the short list. Now we were sure that our child would be a boy, and that we would name him David (as an aside, we heard the same reading six years later before the birth of our youngest son, whom we had already decided would be named Samuel if he were a boy).
Now, almost twenty years later and several states away, I see this same little church is in the news, but the news is not as happy as it was for us and our son David. Granted, if you look at the Friends of St. Frances X. Cabrini website, you see all the signs of thriving, vibrant parish: a wide range of charitable works and causes, parish activities such as craft fairs and picnics, prayer services, etc. Most pastors would be ecstatic to have such involved, committed parishioners, except . . . there is no pastor. There is, in fact, no parish any longer. St. Francis X. Cabrini was one of several dozen parishes ordered closed by the Archdiocese of Boston 11 years ago, and the people devoting so much time and energy to their local church in Scituate have been occupying the property all these years in direct defiance of their bishop.
This is, quite simply, a heart- breaking story. For Catholics, as I explain in an earlier post (“A Church is Much, Much More Than A Building”):
Churches are much more than just buildings. They are enormous sacramentals, consecrated objects that can help connect us to the Grace of a God who is pure Spirit; they are iconic representations that teach us at an unconscious level about an ordered Universe with God at the apex, or at least they used to be (see here and here). They are also places closely connected to some of the deepest experiences of our lives, such as baptisms, weddings and funerals, as well as being places where communities gather. Sometimes these connections are formed over the course of generations. That’s why the closing of a church is so much more traumatic than the closing of a movie theater, for instance, or a department store. The local church is, for most people, their concrete connection to transcendent realities.
The local church is both a connection to transcendent realities, and also a beloved part of the personal history of thousands of people. Even if it weren't for my own brief connection to this particular church a couple decades ago, my heart would go out to these people; and yet . . .
And yet, for all of us, following Christ often means saying “no” to ourselves, of picking up our cross and following him. Some of those crosses can be in the form of obedience to proper authority, even when we think he is wrong, even when he might in all truth actually be wrong. In his letter to the Smyrnaeans c. 110 A.D., St. Ignatius of Antioch wrote:
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| Icon of St. Ignatius of Antioch |
See that ye all follow the bishop, even as Jesus Christ does the Father, and the presbytery as ye would the apostles; and reverence the deacons, as being the institution of God. Let no man do anything connected with the Church without the bishop. Let that be deemed a proper Eucharist, which is [administered] either by the bishop, or by one to whom he has entrusted it. Wherever the bishop shall appear, there let the multitude [of the people] also be; even as, wherever Jesus Christ is, there is the Catholic Church. It is not lawful without the bishop either to baptize or to celebrate a love-feast; but whatsoever he shall approve of, that is also pleasing to God, so that everything that is done may be secure and valid. (Letter to the Smyrnaeans 8)
The Bishop in this case has made it quite clear where he stands. St. Ignatius of Antioch, who allowed himself to be devoured by lions for the sake of the Church of Jesus Christ, would not approve of the people occupying the de-commissioned church in Scituate.
His is not a lonely voice in the history of the Church. Fourteen centuries later another St. Ignatius wrote:
The superior is to be obeyed not because he is prudent, or good, or qualified by any other gift of God, but because he holds the place and the authority of God, as Eternal Truth has said: He who hears you, hears me; and he who rejects you, rejects me [Luke 10:16] . . . This will appear less strange to you if you keep in mind that Saint Paul, writing to the Ephesians, bids us obey even temporal and pagan superiors as Christ, from whom all well-ordered authority descends . . . (St. Ignatius Loyola, On Perfect Obedience 2)
That is not to say that Catholics whose church is slated for closure should not have any recourse. In the same letter this St. Ignatius says:
But this does not mean that you should not feel free to propose a difficulty, should something occur to you different from his opinion, provided you pray over it, and it seems to you in God's presence that you ought to make the representation to the superior. If you wish to proceed in this matter without suspicion of attachment to your own judgment, you must maintain indifference both before and after making this representation, not only as to undertaking or relinquishing the matter in question, but you must even go so far as to be better satisfied with, and to consider as better, whatever the superior shall ordain. (On Perfect Obedience 6)
By all means make an appropriate appeal through proper channels, St. Ignatius says, but one needs to accept the final decision with Christian humility.
The parishioners of St. Francis X. Cabrini had such an opportunity. Theirs was one of a number of parishes whose members protested its closure by the Archdiocese of Boston in 2004, as was the church where David was baptized, St. Albert the Great in Weymouth, MA. The Archdiocese reversed its decision the following year in the case of St. Albert’s, but no reprieve came for the parishioners of St. Francis X. Cabrini, not from their local ordinary, and not from the Vatican when they sought relief from that quarter (on occasion Rome has sided with the local parish: see here). The church remains officially closed, and now the Massachusetts Court of Appeals has upheld a lower court’s ruling that the occupiers, after 11 years, are to be evicted.
Representatives of the St. Frances occupiers held a press conference last week to respond to the court’s ruling. Spokesman Jon Rogers said:
There is a lot of anger in this room. For 24 hours a day, seven days a week, we have protected our spiritual home from the powers that would destroy it . . . We’re in the process of exploring the options of filing an appeal, we’re going to remain in vigil until someone tells us we can’t.
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| The Mystical Press and Christ in Glory (dal Pino) |
I can certainly understand their anger, but I would like to take issue, gently, with Mr. Rogers on two points. First, the spiritual home for Catholics in this world is not one particular church, it is the Universal Church that is the Mystical Body of Christ (and our ultimate spiritual home is before the Throne of God in Heaven, if he so wills). Second, Rogers and his companions have been told, repeatedly, that they can’t remain “in vigil”, most recently by the civil authorities, but even more importantly by their Bishop, without whom St.Ignatius of Antioch says nothing "connected with the Church” can be done. I am reminded of the passage from Luke’s Gospel where Jesus says:
If any one comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me, cannot be my disciple. (Luke 14:26-27)
The point, of course, is not that we should literally hate our nearest and dearest, but that following Christ takes priority over even our closest earthly attachments. In the same way, our commitment to the Universal Church (and the word Catholic means “universal”) overrides our loyalty to our local church, however much we might love it.
This can be a very hard teaching indeed, but that is part of the price of discipleship. We read in John’s Gospel of a time when many of Jesus’ disciples left him because of a hard teaching; then,
Jesus said to the twelve, "Do you also wish to go away?" Simon Peter answered him, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:67-68)
It wouldn’t hurt to say a prayer for the people of St. Frances X. Cabrini in Scituate as they bear their cross, and for all Catholics, as we bear the cross in our own lives as well.
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