Today at mass I was asked to be one of the Eucharistic ministers, which was a bit of a surprise. They were short a person, and I'd attended the minister training last Saturday, so they asked me to fill in. I said yes, happy to help serve during mass, "the source and summit of Christian life." I went up immediately after the sign of peace, joining Fr. Charlie and the other ministers on the altar for the breaking of bread and communion, and then was given one of the chalices filled with the consecrated wine to be offered to each parishioner in the procession with the solemn yet joyful declaration, "the blood of Christ."
It was a really nice experience being a more active apart of the liturgy, and I was a lot less nervous than I thought I'd be despite not feeling worthy to hold in my hands the "blood of the covenant, which will be shed on behalf of many for the forgiveness of sins" (Mt 26:28), one of the icons of sacrifice and reconciliation. It made me feel closer to the community, and I went up again at the end of mass to be blessed along with some of the other young adults, being encouraged by Fr. Charlie to help share our lives of faith with others.
After mass, Fr. Bill invited me to join the parish staff and the young adult group at the parish breakfast to talk about ways to reach out to other young adults, as well as discuss any of the challenges we have and the things about the Church that draw us towards it. I mentioned that what initially drew me to the Church was its contemplative and mystical tradition, which might not interest many young adults but certainly interested me, and the sense of community I discovered at St. Philip, which has been a great source of support in difficult times and a source of joy in happier ones.
As for challenges, I offered that many young adults, especially those like myself who haven't grown up in a Catholic household, seem to have trouble seeing the relevance of the Church and what it has to offer. It took me a long time to see through the traditions and superficialities that put me off and glimpse the depth of Catholic spirituality. What I hesitated to offer was my opinion that the Church needs to do some deep soul-searching and evolve when it comes to fully accepting LGBTQ people and women; and by that I mean accepting the reality of same-sex unions and the ability of women to be priests.
All in all, though, it was a good discussion; and one of the ideas I really liked was that of the young adult group volunteering some of their time to a charity or soup kitchen, anything that helps others. I agree with James, one of the twelve apostles, that "a person is justified by works and not by faith alone" (James 2:24) and that "faith without works is dead" (James 2:26). Or as Fr. Michael said during one of our last B- meetings, orthopraxy (right doing) is just as important as orthodoxy (right thinking), the two go hand in hand. But it also brought to mind a growing worry I have about engaging with other religious people.
Many of those involved in the young adult group that I've met are far more traditional and conservative than I; and with Chris, I've already experienced the kinds of conflicts that can arise between those who are more progressive vs. those who are more traditional. Chris has since decided to attend another parish because he feels that St. Philip isn't 'Roman Catholic' enough and that newly baptized members (like myself, obviously) display a shocking lack of knowledge and regard for church precepts. I've tried to be supportive and invited him out to lunch, saying that I still want to be his friend despite our disagreements about same-sex marriage, but he doesn't seem all that interested.
I'm not really sure what to do when it comes to these things. On the one hand, I don't want to alienate people or get my parish into trouble for having opinions that contradict Church doctrine. So when I'm asked about my thoughts on how the Church can better reach out to young people, for example, I'm afraid to say what I really think. I conceive of the Church as a place of safety characterized by communities that are full of love and understanding. I don't want to antagonize anyone or make them feel unwelcome simply because we don't see eye-to-eye on certain things.
On the other hand, some of these issues are very important to me, and I often feel the need to express my point of view even if it might not be well received. Part of me thinks that the little voice in my heart telling me things like same-sex relationships are OK and women should be able to be priests is the Holy Spirit at work trying to open the doors of the Church to everyone, making the kingdom of heaven a more complete, fully-expressed reality here on earth. I feel it's my duty, as a Christian and a decent human being, to proclaim and work towards the equality of all.
In some ways, this kind of dilemma is a lot like my inner conflict between living a worldly life and the pull of monasticism. On the one hand, I'm drawn towards monasticism, a contemplative way of life characterized by silence, renunciation, and living in harmony with fellow seekers, just as I am towards keeping certain things to myself out of dispassion or when I think it may cause discord and conflict. On the other, I'm drawn towards the joys of living a worldly life, just as I am towards supporting things I believe will ultimately make this world a better place. It feels like no matter where I turn, I can't seem to escape this struggle.
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