What does it mean to be Catholic but not Roman Catholic? This is a question that many at Spirit of Grace are contemplating since the local archbishop has forbidden any Catholic priest from saying Mass at Spirit of Grace, which up until December 10th, 2023 was possibly the only Catholic-Lutheran ecumenical community of its kind. Both Catholics and Lutherans have worshiped together here for the last 37 years. And now, the Catholic side of the community is being forced to either attend a local Catholic church by decree of the archbishop or stay with the church community they have known and loved and have made their spiritual home, the latter of which is an act of rebellion against the archbishop.
So what does it mean to be Catholic?
As most Christians know, the word itself comes from a Greek word meaning 'universal.' It means that, in the words of St. Ignatius of Antioch, "wherever Jesus is present, we have the Catholic Church." And this idea of universalism is most explicitly stated by Paul in Galatians 3:28: "There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free person, there is not male and female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus." Catholic, therefore, means unity, communion, community, a kin-dom where all who are baptized, love God, and love their neighbour are invited and welcomed. And for me, Spirit of Grace has been a warm, welcoming community that, in its own small way, represents the open arms of the universal Church.
Of course, on the tree of the universal Church are many branches, each with their own history and culture and traditions that one should respect. And many of those branches don't see eye to eye with the others. Nevertheless, we are all created in the image of God (Gen 1:26-27), and despite our failings and frailties and stubbornness, in God's promise to Abraham and his descendents, the world will be blessed and reunited with God (Gen 22:15-18). And the life and teachings of Jesus connect many of us to that tradition and that promise. Jesus invites us to take this promise seriously and be participants in it, not just spectators. But Jesus was oftentimes rebellious, breaking religious rules and challenging the authority of both religious and political leaders when they strayed from loving God and loving their neighbour as themselves. And should we not follow Jesus and his example?
The local archbishop has put an official end to this ecumenical partnership by forbidding Catholic priests from saying mass at Spirit of Grace and ordering its Catholic parishioners to go elsewhere in his discernment of "the needs of the Catholic faithful of the Archdiocese, the key principles governing the sacred liturgy, and how best to promote Christian unity." But I fail to see how splitting up this ecumenical community of almost four decades does anything to help promote Christian unity, nor do I see a reason to seek out another church and community when this one has been so welcoming and supportive and has become my home.
The Catholic priest who baptized me and welcomed me into the Catholic Church once said, "If Jesus calls you to the table, who am I to turn you away?" And every person, regardless of who they are or where they come from, is invited and welcomed at God's table; so everyone at that table is part of the universal Church—hence wherever Jesus is present, we have the Catholic Church. My Catholic identity, then, is based on wherever I find Jesus. And Jesus is not absent from Spirit of Grace.
This blog is primarily meant to act as a sort of journal, documenting my spiritual journey as I explore my growing interest in Christianity in conjunction with my ongoing Buddhist practice. The title, "submitting to the unknown," was inspired by James 4, which I thought was surprisingly relevant to what I'd been thinking and feeling as of late—I was looking for guidance regarding the ongoing conflict inside of myself between living in the world and the pull of monastic life.
Sunday, January 21, 2024
Friday, January 12, 2024
1/12/24
I started reading the Bible all the way through with The Magnificast discord group and a question came up about how to view some of the more difficult passages while still being faithful to one's religious tradition and not anachronistically insert one's personal preferences and values into those texts. It got me thinking about my own approach.
Coming from a non-religious background and growing into a perennialist, my approach is to treat sacred texts on a whole as historical, mythological, and mystical texts. I see in them stories used to express certain ideas, point in certain directions, and provide certain justifications for what was happening in the present.
From the historical POV, I see some of their culture and beliefs and what they were trying to do and say in a particular period in time, which was often the voice of a certain priestly caste that had authority or which became an authority. I see them as they see themselves. From the mythological POV, I see some of their explanations for the hows and whys, the logic underlying their particular religious beliefs and practices, as well as justifications for them. I see their expressions of the connection between the divine and us. And in the mystical, I see the deeper underlying threads, the places where people have touched or glimpsed ultimate reality, where God is heard most clearly. And in all of these texts, including the Torah, there are multiple voices all weaved together presenting a tapestry of thousands of years of culture, history, and evolving thoughts as people deal with the contradictions they face, finding new syntheses and ways through into new ideas and experiences and contradictions.
I see a dialectical relationship. And these texts are all of these things presented to us in a relatively linear narrative meant to preserve the past, remind the present, and inspire the future. In all of these texts, from every religious tradition, there are difficult things, ugly things, that are hard to reconcile with the beautiful parts. But they reflect us and what we're struggling with and trying to overcome as human beings, what some call our sinful nature, our shadow self, or what others would call the poisons of greed, hatred, and delusion. So of course, in our attempts to reach towards the divine or be touched by it, we make mistakes and misunderstand and even do harm in the name of the good. And even though these texts may be inspired by God and contain truth, they're written by people that know both good and evil, who speak both truth and lies, who have their own agendas and desires which aren't necessarily pointing towards God but to their own worldly power and control.
These texts and our relationship to them are rich and complicated, and I feel comfortable finding in them what touches me and help nurtures/deepens my 'theology' without necessarily forcing my theology into them and vice versa. I accept them and learn from them, but I'm also far removed from many of these times and places and certain things may not be as relevant as they once were.
Coming from a non-religious background and growing into a perennialist, my approach is to treat sacred texts on a whole as historical, mythological, and mystical texts. I see in them stories used to express certain ideas, point in certain directions, and provide certain justifications for what was happening in the present.
From the historical POV, I see some of their culture and beliefs and what they were trying to do and say in a particular period in time, which was often the voice of a certain priestly caste that had authority or which became an authority. I see them as they see themselves. From the mythological POV, I see some of their explanations for the hows and whys, the logic underlying their particular religious beliefs and practices, as well as justifications for them. I see their expressions of the connection between the divine and us. And in the mystical, I see the deeper underlying threads, the places where people have touched or glimpsed ultimate reality, where God is heard most clearly. And in all of these texts, including the Torah, there are multiple voices all weaved together presenting a tapestry of thousands of years of culture, history, and evolving thoughts as people deal with the contradictions they face, finding new syntheses and ways through into new ideas and experiences and contradictions.
I see a dialectical relationship. And these texts are all of these things presented to us in a relatively linear narrative meant to preserve the past, remind the present, and inspire the future. In all of these texts, from every religious tradition, there are difficult things, ugly things, that are hard to reconcile with the beautiful parts. But they reflect us and what we're struggling with and trying to overcome as human beings, what some call our sinful nature, our shadow self, or what others would call the poisons of greed, hatred, and delusion. So of course, in our attempts to reach towards the divine or be touched by it, we make mistakes and misunderstand and even do harm in the name of the good. And even though these texts may be inspired by God and contain truth, they're written by people that know both good and evil, who speak both truth and lies, who have their own agendas and desires which aren't necessarily pointing towards God but to their own worldly power and control.
These texts and our relationship to them are rich and complicated, and I feel comfortable finding in them what touches me and help nurtures/deepens my 'theology' without necessarily forcing my theology into them and vice versa. I accept them and learn from them, but I'm also far removed from many of these times and places and certain things may not be as relevant as they once were.
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