Pastor’s Corner

Greetings fellow Pilgrims!

May 6, 2012

5 Easter B ’12

I am the vine, you are the branches.

Every branch is pruned so that you may bear more fruit.

“A white granite boulder had some time ago tumbled down the mountain, lodging itself into the side of a sapling. The wound of the impact was still visible. Over time, the tree had accommodated itself to that rock by growing around it so that the rock is now embraced by the tree. In spite of the wound, the tree has continued to grow straight and tall, its branches forming part of the forest canopy as it reaches toward the light.

“I am the vine, you are the branches.”

What an amazing statement: Christ with us is like a vine to the branches. There is no separation. We are “in” Christ; we are one. The life within us is the very life of God. The Greek Fathers in the early centuries of the Church described the life within the Trinity with the Greek word, “pericoresis,” which means, “dancing.” They didn’t say God is the dancer, they said God is dancing - the flow of life moving through all things. The dancing of God’s life is flowing through all creation. All is one. Isn’t that what Christ kept trying to tell us - that we are one with him as he is one with his Father. Isn’t this saying it is not possible to separate the branches from the vine, us from the Divine.

Sometimes this unity is so clear. All we need do is look at the community here at St. Mary Church by the Sea. The spirit of oneness and love is so evident. This community, the branches, are connected to the Christ, the Vine.

Sometimes this oneness between us and Christ is not so visible. I give a recent example of this - the statement by the Vatican strongly criticizing the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), the umbrella group for most of the American sisters. This statement came as a great shock to them - these sisters who built the educational system in this country, who built the health care system in this country, who built the social service programs in this country. And they are still on the forefront of ministering to the forgotten in our own day, from the homeless, to the abandoned, to immigrants who are so marginalized today. And then this statement.

The criticism was that the sisters are speaking out on issues the Vatican has declared off limits, such as women’s ordination, and for not speaking out enough on issues of concern to the Vatican, such as abortion and gay marriage. The sisters are addressing other issues of today, which the Vatican considers disobedience.

There is clearly tension in our church today, and not just regarding the sisters. The “Religious Service” section in the Washington Post, April 12, 2012, states,

“In countries like Ireland, Austria and Germany, hundreds of priests are forming organizations aimed at explicitly opening debate on - or overturning - church teachings on priestly celibacy, women’s ordination and other topics the Vatican considers off limits.”

Something is happening in our Church; something is changing. Before the Second Vatican Council in the early sixties, the Church was stable and unchanging, a source of clear guidance and direction. It never occurred to its members to question anything. That is certainly changing. It’s hard to imagine the Church, or the world, ever going back to the way it used to be.

Transitions are difficult, and the bigger they are, the more chaotic they are. St. Brendan, the 6th century Irish saint said, “One doesn’t discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore.” The Church is leaving familiar shores, and it does not yet see new lands.

How do we handle such times? What can we do to help us remain connected to the Vine? One suggestion is to avoid thinking that a particular belief system will be what resolves this confusion and tension. Belief systems are helpful, they help us articulate our inner experiences. The difficulty is that as soon as one surfaces, competing ones emerge, each claiming to be right and all the others wrong. And there we are - right back to more confusion and tension.

The other suggestion is simply to go for what is life-giving and hopeful, especially when nothing seems life-giving and hopeful. Faith begins when we have exhausted all our inner resources and have nothing left. It’s not “right thinking” that will keep us connected to the Vine, it is handing ourselves over, with all our differing certainties and uncertainties, to Christ. It isn’t that we attach ourselves to the Vine, it’s that the Vine attaches itself to us.

This removes competition and Ego control. You see a good example of this in the Gonzaga University Alumni Men’s Glee Club, members of which are sitting here before you this morning. The Basses aren’t upset because the Second Tenors aren’t Basses, and the Top Tenors aren’t upset because the Baritones aren’t Tenors. They complement each other, together they produce harmony.

It is the same with Church. Different members of Christ’s Church have different parts to sing, and we want to believe that everyone is doing their best. The pope is doing the best he can, the laity are doing the best they can, the bishops and priests are doing the best they can. Sometimes we bump into each other and sing the wrong notes. But here we remain - clumsy, awkward, resilient and hopeful. The Church with all its warts and failures remains something beautiful to behold. Look around - - see what I mean. You are the Church, you are beautiful, you are something to celebrate.

“I am the vine, you are the branches.

Every branch is pruned so that you may bear more fruit.”

You are the Church, that tree into which white granite boulders keep tumbling down the mountains, lodging themselves into her side. The wounds of these impacts are still visible. For two thousands years, this tree has accommodated herself to these rocks by growing around them so that the rocks are now embraced by the tree. In spite of her wounds, the tree continues to grow, its branches reaching upwards, forming part of the forest canopy

as it reaches toward the light.

Thanks be to God -- for you!