Numbers
11:25-29; James 5:1-6; Mark 9:38-43, 45, 47-48
Words can be little devils. They sneak
around the place insinuating themselves into sentences they have no right to be
in, giving meanings they have no right to give. Naughty words! They spread
their deceiving odour like the nectar of a flesh-eating plant and gradually the
words properly appointed to guard clarity and truth slide into oblivion.
In the Church these little monsters have
infiltrated with remarkably destructive vigour. The otherwise harmless little
word 'our' for example, as in our faith, our parish, our
Church has, bit by bit, nudged the definite article into the trash can. 'Our'
faith is now far more important than 'the' Faith; and instead of us belonging
to this or that parish, or to the Church, they now belong to us - our parish,
our Church!
Another far more dangerous one is the
'all-things-bright-and-beautiful' word community. Like a Crown of Thorns
starfish on the Great Barrier Reef it has spread its tentacles over the word communion
leaving behind a meaningless collection of dead letters.
What makes it all so insidious is that to
the unaware it all seems so good and true. One now discredited parish programme
had as its mantra and aim: From Crowd to Community. Yes, of course,
community is good, and so much better than a crowd, so let's get to work, let's
build community! And we invest hours of time and loads of money on meetings and
structures and 'leadership training' and all the time we should be working, not
on building community, but on understanding and achieving communion.
Communion in the Church does not flow from
community, it's the other way round - first communion, then community. Anything
else is doomed to failure; a body without a soul.
Confusing words makes other errors
possible, errors which would not have been possible had we used the right
words. For example, the tiny word sin still stands with extraordinary
tenacity against the giant words psychological dysfunction. And speaking
of sin is only really meaningful when we speak of communion. Sin, by
definition, destroys communion, first with God and then with our brothers and
sisters in Christ. Community, on the other hand, does not challenge sin except
in its most destructive manifestations. In fact, community is quite comfortable
with sin; just witness the accolades accorded deceased public sinners by the
Australian community.
Then again, community is inclusive;
communion is exclusive.
I am compelled to admit that I am more than
weary of hearing the silly call to 'build welcoming and inclusive communities'
made by so many diocesan pastoral plans. I always thought this was the task of
the Bowling Club, the School Board and the local Shire Council. But, of course,
once we have fallen for the lie that we should be building up community in the
Church then it goes without saying that we should be building inclusive
communities.
Finally, since a community relies on the
qualities and achievements of its members to make it strong, it tends, when it
celebrates, to celebrate itself. I have attended Masses at which the priest
could have been most accurately described as leading the community in its
celebration of itself. Even the homily at some of these Masses could be said to
be an 'anointing' or affirmation of the community rather than a call to
attentiveness to and worship of God. How sad!
Christian community follows almost
effortlessly from real communion but can never substitute for it. Where it does
we get lots of bush dances, picnics and bingo nights, but very little relief
for the soul or the profound loneliness we all struggle with.
Eternal life, peace, true joy come from
communion with Christ in his Church on earth, with the suffering souls in
Purgatory, and with his angels and saints in heaven.
