People always listen when they hear others talking about their faith experiences.
I was at home in Kerry for the Easter break a few years ago and went along to the Good Friday Stations of the Cross in our local church. Afterwards I called to visit a neighbour whom I hadn’t seen in several months.
Now, this man might be considered the backbone of the Catholic Church in Ireland: early 60s, never misses Sunday Mass, stewards the car park on the day of a big funeral and a stalwart GAA man to boot. He is the dependable Irish Catholic.
We chatted away that evening, paying no attention to the television, switched on, out of habit, in the corner of the room. During a lull in the conversation our eyes wandered to the screen. Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ was on and it had reached the moment of the crucifixion.
My friend turned to me and asked, “Did that happen at all, I wonder?”
Unknown to himself, he had just provided me with more information about the state of Catholicism in Ireland than any opinion poll or survey.
Great doubt
This man had never read Richard Dawkins’ The God Delusion or seen The Da Vinci Code. But he had picked up in the ether that there is now some great doubt about the Christian story. After a lifetime of religious practice, he can’t be sure anymore that Christ ever existed, or was crucified or rose from the dead.
Keep in mind this man had just returned from the Stations of the Cross.
He reminded me of St Peter who, on Holy Thursday night, followed the arrested Christ from Gethsemane “at a distance”.
A culture of doubt encourages us to hedge our bets, to follow “at a distance”. We begin to worry that it might all be a waste of time. And when people think like this just watch the evangelical energy evaporate.
My travels around the country over the last few years have led me to conclude that this man is representative of a large number of people. So, even among regular churchgoers, there is a great need for people to hear that, despite other voices, the Christian story is true.
One of the most powerful ways this is achieved is by personal testimonies of faith. People always listen when they hear others talking about their faith experiences.
When the risen Christ appears to the disciples at the Sea of Galilee, it is John, the disciple Jesus loved, who recognises Christ and says: “It is the Lord.” It is only when Peter hears this does he jump into the water to reach Him. The man who previously followed at a distance now leads the charge.
In the current climate and culture we need people who can help us to recognise Christ, who tell us with humble confidence, “Yes, it is the Lord!”
We need these people to encourage us to jump out of our boats and move again towards Christ.
We need people today with the eyes and faith of John.
Clerical cutbacks
I was listening to a local radio station during the week and the issue of cuts to Mass times was being discussed. A man had contacted the programme to complain about a change to the local schedule: the Sunday Mass had been dropped and the Vigil Mass time had been changed.
He was up in arms, blaming priests and bishops. His daughter, he added, was not going to Mass anymore because Saturday evening didnít ësuití her. The fact that the church is only 15 minutes from a nearby town, which the locals visit regularly for shopping, wasnít mentioned. Worthy heirs indeed to the Irish who kept their Eucharistic devotion in spite of ëdungeon, fire and swordí.
Reduction of Masses, in an ideal world, should be an opportunity for a sober but fruitful reflection on the nature of the Eucharist, the life of the local Christian community, the role of the ordained priest and the priesthood of all baptised. In some places such a discussion is already happening.
However, the danger is that the issue will find its greatest airing on radio phone-ins with irate callers showing no consideration for the reality of an already stretched clergy and radio presenters discussing the Eucharist no differently to the closure of the local post office. We can do better.