Walking Together

I have been reading and thinking about the preparatory documents for the synod on the synod on the synod (wait….was that right?) and will be writing a bit about it at some point. But I want to toss something out there for folks to think about, inspired by Pope Francis’ words today to a gathering in Rome. He spoke to them about the synod on the synod – oh, forget it – on synodality – and what this is all about, and it’s a useful jumping off point. Succinct, if you’ve not yet dipped into these waters.

The great concerns that course through the surface of these documents are inclusion and listening. If you’ve been paying attention to Pope Francis over the years, this will be no surprise. No one should feel left out. God loves everyone, and the Church must be a witness to this in word, action and structure.

The centering of this message and the almost palpable anxiety that frames it interests me a great deal, historically. I have spent a lot of time pondering the before-and-after situations, the framing and the straw men arguments. There’s a lot to unpack, and it’s not just about Church – it’s about culture, too.

But I won’t do that here. Much. I’ll just share, as a bare beginning, what flashed through my head just now as I read this article. First, the Pope’s words:

The first stage of the process (October 2021 – April 2022) is the one concerning the individual diocesan Churches. “That is why I am here, as your bishop, to share, because it is very important that the Diocese of Rome commits itself with conviction to this journey”, said the Pope.

He explained that “synodality expresses the nature of the Church, its form, its style, its mission”. The word “synod”, in fact, contains everything we need to understand: “walking together”.

Referring to the book of Acts as “the first and most import ‘manual’ of ecclesiology”, the Pope noted that it recounts the story of a road that starts in Jerusalem and after a long journey ends in Rome. This road, he said, tells the story in which the Word of God and the people who turn their attention and faith to that Word walk together. “Everyone is a protagonist,” said the Pope, “no one can be considered a mere extra”. At times it may be necessary to leave, to change direction, to overcome convictions that hold us back and prevent us from moving and walking together.

I was immediately reminded of this, from – regular readers will sigh, oh, this again – from a 7th-grade religion textbook published mid-century – published in 1935 by MacMillan, part of The Christ Life Series in Religion.  Authors are the famed liturgist Dom Virgil Michel OSB, another Benedictine, and Dominican sisters.

It’s from the introduction to the section on Lent-Pentecost, preparing the – twelve-year old– for the spiritual journey ahead.

Perhaps you’ll see why the Pope’s words brought these words to mind.

On the eve of Septuagesima, with Vespers, the solemn evening prayer of the Church, all the members of the Mystical Body of Christ, bidding farewell to the Alleluia, suggestive of the joys of the Christmas Period, turn their steps toward the mountainous paths which lead to Easter. Thousands and thousands of people upon the stage of life are adjusting themselves to their roles in this drama—this drama which is real life. Old men are there and old women, youths and maidens, and even little children. From all parts of the world they come and from all walks of life—kings and queens, merchants and laborers, teachers and students, bankers and beggars, religious of all orders, cardinals, bishops, and parish priests, and leading them all the Vicar of Christ on earth. All are quietly taking their places, for all are actors in the sublime mystery drama of our redemption.

We, too, have our own parts to play in this living drama. And there is no rehearsal. We begin now, on Septuagesima, following as faithfully as we can the guidance of the Holy Spirit, which comes to us particularly in the Mass and the sacraments.

I will point out, too, that this drama which is real life is not an individualistic effort about one’s own salvation. As the rest of the catechesis makes clear, it is about taking on the mind and heart of Christ, which forms one for a life of sacrificial love – caritas.

So what is this about? Obviously the traditional Catholic sensibility has always been, well, universal – aware of one’s ties to others, of one’s responsibility to live out the greatest commandment. That yes, where ever you are, you are, indeed, journeying together with all the baptized, all over the world.

So what’s the reason for this emphasis in this moment?

I have two basic thoughts, currently thrashing about in my head. Might was well lay them out here.

First is related to how the reforms of the Second Vatican Council, together with cultural and social currents, actually worked to diminish Catholics’ sense of solidarity and understanding of “journeying together.”

The temptation to division and individualism is always present, but when you toss in innumerable other factors, ranging from an elevation of individual political rights over the common good, the centering of individual experience in the determination of truth and authenticity, the collapse of traditional, less socially divided communities, and, in the Catholic context, the elevation of individual experience and local cultural factors over the universally-accessible objective and transcendent, and then throw in decades of intra-Church fighting, ideological positioning, category-establishing and head scratching – well, it seems, you have a recipe for atomization. Fullproof.

Secondly, the possibility that this isn’t only about deepening a sense of global solidarity and journeying together. It’s about, as usual, intra-church political issues and doctrinal …. elasticity.

More to come.