The King of Love My Shepherd Is

– Art: Vicki Shuck

This morning I gave the homily at Spirit Catholic Community (formerly Spirit of St. Stephen’s Catholic Community) in Minneapolis.

It had been twelve years since I last delivered a homily. And, yes, it felt good to be able to do so again. Following is what I shared.

___________________

The King of Love My Shepherd Is

A Homily by Michael J. Bayly
for
The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ,
King of the Universe

Spirit Catholic Community
November 26, 2023


First Reading: Ezekiel 34: 11-12, 15-17
Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 15: 20-26, 28
Gospel: Matthew 25: 31-46

Good morning. . . . My name is Michael Bayly and it is a great honor to be here with you all and share some thoughts and perspectives on our readings for today. I appreciate the invitation to do so, and hope I will do justice to both the readings and the long and storied history of Spirit community members sharing and “breaking open the word.”

The Roman Church’s designated name for today, this last Sunday of Ordinary Time, is quite the mouthful: The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe.

Now, like many within our community I balk at titles such as “Lord” and “King” and their connotations of imperialism, hierarchy and institutionalized oppression – all of which, it seems to many of us, are the antithesis of the egalitarian message and example of Jesus of Nazareth. Our community even goes so far as to substitute the word “kindom” for “kingdom” in an effort to distance ourselves from these connotations and to center ourselves instead in what we recognize and celebrate as the radical hospitality and inclusiveness of Jesus.

I trust that these qualities of Jesus supersede the themes of judgment and condemnation that, for whatever reason, found their way into the writings of the early church.

So where did today’s theme of Jesus as King of the Universe come from? Well, even though various royal titles have been attributed to Jesus since the time of the early church, it was only relatively recently, in 1925, that Pope Pius XI dedicated this Sunday to “Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe.” At first, this might seem like an irrelevant factoid. But this date actually tells us much about the rationale behind this particular action of the Vatican.

Nineteen-twenty-five was just seven years after the end of the First World War, a conflict that saw the overthrow of no less than three royal houses of Europe. In Germany, Austria-Hungary and Russia, imperial empires and their autocratic rulers were deposed.

These were all monarchs long held to have been ordained by God to rule. They represented the centuries-old tradition of the divine right of kings, a tradition reflected in the structure of the papacy. The earthly order of sovereignty of these kings, kaisers, emperors and tsars was believed to mirror the heavenly order of God’s sovereignty. Yet in 1918 they were all swept away by a rising tide of what we would now call “people power,” a power that in the aftermath of World War One was in some cases expressed by democracy but in other cases by regimes just as autocratic and despotic as the ones they had deposed.

It’s not surprising then that the Roman Church, itself modeled on the imperial order of the Roman empire, and thus hostile to democracy, would wish to reassert the primacy of kingship both in heaven and on earth by declaring Jesus as King – and “King of the Universe,” no less.

To its credit, the Vatican, in declaring Christ “King of the Universe,” was also attempting to counter the rise of fascism in 1920s Europe – in Italy especially. As Allison Connelly, a self-identifying queer Catholic points out, the feast of Christ the King serves as “a reminder to people of good faith that nationalism and fascism are not our moral authorities,” and that that such ideologies should not control “the world’s narrative.”

Still, the emphasis on kingship remains problematic for many. But here’s the thing I find fascinating – and rather subversive. Although today’s readings lift up the kingly characteristics of judgment and punishment, they also present to us the image of the shepherd, one of the lowliest figures in biblical times and indeed throughout history, and one that is not generally associated with imperial rule. I like to think that whoever selected the readings for today was quietly yet purposely doing their best to make an important point, one that involves the lifting up of the lowly shepherd as an alternative model of leadership to that of an absolute monarch.

It reminds me of Jesus’ own subversive actions on Palm Sunday when, in an effort to turn upside down the residents of Jerusalem’s notion of kingship, chose to enter the city on a donkey. Similarly, the writers of the resurrection narratives subversively have Mary Magdalene mistake the risen Jesus for a gardener; not the owner of the garden but a lowly gardener, a laborer.

The message I get from all of this is that Jesus is our brother, one who calls us to share in his Christic level of awareness and compassion, and thus follow him in the work of shepherding our thoughts and actions into an embodied life that ensures all are taken care of materially, emotionally and spiritually.

It’s a taking care of that in the past an ideal king or queen would have been expected to do for their subjects. Yet now in this vision I’m proposing, we’re all called to be kingly and queenly in this way.

Such an embodied life of care and justice is one that I trust we are called to live both individually and communally.

Author Marianne Williamson has written that we’re living in a “silent emergency of uncaring times” where unnecessary human suffering is being normalized. “No amount of private charity,” Williamson writes, “can compensate for a basic lack of social justice.”

Here at Spirit, we have long understood this, and our history as a community is defined by efforts, programs and endeavors that seek to ignite and embody works of care, justice and peace. And what inspires and sustains such work? It is, quite simply, love.

Which brings me to my concluding thought. When preparing this homily I took a break one afternoon last weekend and perused the bargain CD shelves of Half Priced Books. A title caught my eye: Be Still My Soul. It’s a collection of centuries-old hymns recorded by Erin Bode, including, I discovered, one that puts Psalm 23 to music.

Interestingly – dare I say, subversively – the title and first line of this particular interpretation of Psalm 23 is not “The Lord Is My Shepherd” but rather, “The King of Love My Shepherd Is.”

Notice that the actual subject of this poetically-written phrase is not the king but the shepherd. It’s saying “My Shepherd is the King of Love.” The shepherd and their work come first, and it’s this work of care and gathering and, by extension, our work of justice-making and peace-building, that makes the shepherd a king (or queen) of love.

The King of Love My Shepherd Is. . . . Friends, let us carry this beautiful expression, thought and image into our day and our week, as we continue to strive to embody lives of care and justice, both individually and communally.

May it be so.

– Michael J. Bayly
Spirit Catholic Community
November 26, 2023

Previous Homilies:
The Soul of a Dancer – Spirit of St. Stephen’s Catholic Community, May 22, 2011.
Liberated to Be Together – Spirit of St. Stephen’s Catholic Community, October 4, 2009.
"More Lovely Than the Dawn": God as Divine Lover – Spirit of the Lakes United Church of Christ, August 30, 2009.
Dispatches from the Periphery – Spirit of St. Stephen’s Catholic Community, October 5, 2008.
Somewhere In Between – St. Joan of Arc Catholic Church, January 15, 2006.
The Harvest Within the Heart – Spirit of the Lakes United Church of Christ, July 17, 2005.
Disarming the Weapons Within – Spirit of the Lakes United Church of Christ, November 29, 2004.
Soul Deep – Spirit of the Lakes United Church of Christ, June 20, 2004.
Something We Dare Call Hope – Spirit of the Lakes United Church of Christ, November 9, 2003.
On the Road with Punk Rockers and Homeless Mothers – Spirit of the Lakes United Church of Christ, October 19, 2003.
Praying for George W. Bush – Spirit of the Lakes United Church of Christ, January 2003.
What We Learn From the Story of the Magi – St. Stephen’s Catholic Church, January 2, 2000.

See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
• The Model of Leadership Offered by Jesus: “More Like the Gardener Than the Owner of the Garden”
• Jesus Our Guide to Mystical Love – Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
• Revolution and Mysticism
• Jesus: Path-Blazer of Radical Transformation
• Adam Eriksen on the Subversive Politics of Palm Sunday
• Palm Sunday: “A Planned Political Demonstration”
• Why Jesus is My Man

For more on Spirit Catholic Community, see the following chronologically-ordered posts:
• The Shrinking Catholic Tent (2008)
• A Profound and Devastating Loss
• All You Holy Men and Women
• A Catholic “Crisis and Opportunity” in South Minneapolis (2009)
• Alive and Well . . . and Flourishing
• The Challenge of Eucharist (2011)
• A Big Gay “Yay!” for the Catholics (2012)
• Troubling the Waters: Brad R. Braxton on Baptism and Black Lives Matter (2021)

Images 1 and 3: Vicki Shuck.
Image 2: Artist unknown.
Image 4: Spirit Catholic Community.

Troubling the Waters: Brad R. Braxton on Baptism and Black Lives Matter

A Facebook friend recently reminded my that many of the African-American spirituals contained explicit instructions to fugitive slaves on how to avoid capture as they made their way to freedom.

The website Pathways to Freedom: Maryland and the Underground Railroad, notes, for instance, that Harriet Tubman used the spiritual “Wade in the Water” to tell escaping slaves to get off the trail and into the water so as to throw the slave-catchers’ dogs off their scent.

In the Christian liturgical calendar, this past Sunday was the first Sunday after the Epiphany, also known as the Baptism of the Lord. One of my New Year resolutions is to get back into attending the Sunday services of my faith community, Spirit Catholic Community (formerly Spirit of St. Stephen’s Catholic Community). Of course, given the pandemic, Spirit, like the vast majority of faith communities, is meeting via Zoom.

The contemporary reading at Spirit on Sunday was an excerpt from an essay by scholar Brad R. Braxton (right) entitled “Troubling the Waters: Baptism and Black Lives Matter.”

In this essay, Braxton makes the compelling case that “our baptism services should be more politically provocative,” especially since the God of “Wade in the Water” is a “troublesome God,” or, as the late John Lewis would say, a “good trouble”-inspiring God.

It’s the “good trouble” of various forms of civil disobedience in the name of justice and compassion; the type of activism that can be seen today in movements such as Black Lives Matter and Idle No More.

Following is the part of “Troubling the Waters: Baptism and Black Lives Matter” that was shared yesterday at Spirit.

The African-American spiritual “Wade in the Water,” sung often in African-American baptism services, insists that God is “gonna trouble the water.” In the spirit of this troublesome God, our baptism services should be more politically provocative.

In other liturgical moments, we can soothe people’s “souls” with images of God, the Eternal shepherd, who leads us beside still waters (Psalm 23:2). Baptism, however, is an opportune time to remember a God who champions oppressed people and struggles alongside them. This God troubles the waters of the Red Sea in order to enable the oppressed to be free.

. . . To baptize people in the name of this God is to immerse them in politically turbulent waters. Baptism services should not be polite. On the contrary, they should create a guttural awareness in those about to be baptized, and in those already baptized, that following God will at times be costly. A major currency for payment of that cost is struggle, and this struggle may exact a toll from our bodies.

. . . It is incumbent upon me pastorally to puncture the politeness of the moment with politics. I remind families, or the candidates for baptism if they are old enough to comprehend, that when Jesus stepped into the Jordan River to be baptized, he signed his death certificate. I then tell the families, or the baptism candidates, that in addition to baptism certificates we also should provide them with death certificates. To serve God is to be willing to struggle for our freedom and the freedom of others, even to the point of death. Baptism is not a cleansing of our souls from sin; it is a marking of our bodies for struggle.

– Brad R. Braxton
Excerpted from “Troubling the Waters: Baptism and Black Lives Matter”
via The Berkley Center for Religion, Peace and World Affairs
June 15, 2020

See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
• Rita Larivee on Being “Authorized by Baptism”
• Why Jesus Is My Man
• A Very Intentional First Day of the Year
• Honoring George Floyd
• Helpful Rebuttals for Racist Talking Points
• Emma Jordan-Simpson: “There Will Be No Peace Without Justice”
• Trevor Noah on the “Dominoes of Racial Injustice”
• James Baldwin's Potent Interweavings of Race, Homoeroticism, and the Spiritual
• Remembering Philando Castile and Demanding Abolition of the System That Targets and Kills People of Color
• Carin Mrotz: Quote of the Day – November 25, 2015
• In Minneapolis, Rallying in Solidarity with Black Lives in Baltimore
• “And Still We Rise” (Part I)
• “And Still We Rise” (Part II)
• Tim Wise: Quote of the Day – November 25, 2014

Opening image: “Harriet on the Underground Railroad” by Paul Collins.
Closing image: Johnny Myers.

Prayer of the Week

The following is adapted from a prayer that was shared earlier today at the Spirit of St. Stephen’s Catholic Community, Minneapolis.

We pray in sorrow, anger, and determination in the aftermath of the murders in Orlando; we pray for wisdom to discern what action to take.

We pray with survivors, family, friends, and neighbors whose grief is unimaginable.

We pray with the gunman's family, the SWAT team and law enforcement officials, first responders, medical personnel, funeral officiants and all who mourn.

We pray with all who are consumed by fear, anger, and blame.

We pray with all who suffer mental illness and all who love them.

We pray with all who insist upon perpetuating distinctions between peoples.

We pray with the tragedies of the world that we may have missed or ignored while focusing on Orlando.

We pray with all who need God's spirit of kindness and prayer poured out over them.

. . . We pray to our God.

See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
• "I Pray, I Pray"
• Discerning and Embodying Sacred Presence in Times of Violence and Strife
• Thoughts on Prayer in a "Summer of Strife"
• Prayer and the Experience of God in an Ever-Unfolding Universe
• Questioning God's Benevolence in the Face of Tragedy
• Two Powerful Calls for the Catholic Hierarchy to Fully Acknowledge the LGBT Victims of Anti-LGBT Violence
• Day of Silence Prayer
• The Ashes of Our Martyrs
• The Most Sacred and Simple Mystery of All

Related Off-site Links:
World Responds to Orlando Mass Shooting – Yahoo! News, June 13, 2016).
Nearly 2,000 Pack Dupont Circle for Orlando Vigil – Lou Chibbaro Jr. (The Washington Blade, June 16, 2016).
We Will Be In Mourning For A Long Time. Please, Let Us Have Our Grief – James Michael Nichols (HuffPost Queer Voices, June 15, 2016).
These Are the Victims of the Orlando Massacre – Jack Mirkinson and Casey Tolan (Fusion, June 12, 2016).

Image: A man lays down flowers during a vigil in front of the United States embassy in Berlin, German, Monday, June 13, 2016 to honor the victims of the attack on Pulse, a gay nightclub in Orlando, Florida. The vigil was organized by a Berlin's lesbian and gay organization. (Photo: AP Photo/Markus Schreiber)

Celebrating the Coming of the Sun and the Son

The winter solstice occurs tonight . . . which is a perfect time to share the following from a recent homily delivered by Loretta at Spirit of St. Stephen's Catholic Community.

Several years ago while visiting in Ireland, the coming of the Sun, our wonderful star in the sky which sustains our earthly life, was concretely illustrated to me. This happened in Newgrange, the site of a 5000 year old civilization. At Newgrange there is a burial mound that was constructed to celebrate the coming of the Sun which occurs on or about December 21st, the time of the winter solstice, which is the shortest day of the year, and after which the days begin to grow longer. Hence, the coming of the Sun.

The early Celtic architects constructed an entrance into the burial mound which consists of a doorway with a rather small opening at the top and then a long, narrow passageway beyond that leading to the rear of the burial mound. At the time of the solstice, the sun, if it is bright enough, and that can be questionable on any given day in Ireland, the sun will direct its light through this small opening and illuminate the narrow passageway all the way to the back of the burial site.

It is no coincidence that Christmas, the coming of the Son, Jesus the Christ, and the Celtic pagan festival of the coming of our star Sun, fall at the same time of the year. Many of our Christian holy days occur at times similar to much older pagan festivals. So, there is a very long tradition of celebrating the coming of the Sun and the Son, and the “concept” of Advent, of watchful waiting, predates the birth of Jesus and is tied to the cycles of our earth. I like this concept of continuity in our world.

I am glad that I am a woman who has lived many years on this planet because I have found that with age comes a certain amount of wisdom and understanding, particularly as it relates to my own spirituality. There was a time when my God was a “sky God” a God who lived up in the heavens while I resided way down here. Suffice it to say, there was a chasm between God and me.

Over the years, that concept of God, the sky God, has changed for me. I now understand that God is not floating around somewhere out there or sitting up in the heavens upon a throne but rather God is in me, and in every living thing, and in every molecule in the Universe.

So, I now welcome Advent as a time to contemplate who and what Jesus is in my life and as an opportunity to deepen my own spirituality rather than a time of waiting for Jesus to make his arrival on December 25th or waiting for Him to show up on Judgment Day riding in on a cloud of glory as our Gospel reading predicted for our ancestors in faith. He’s already here just waiting upon me to notice Him in the tiniest of cells and all the way to the Milky Way and beyond and inviting me to grow in love and in relationship with Him in ever newer and exciting ways.

The season of Advent reminds me of the question that Jesus asked of his disciples, “Who do you say I am?” I have asked myself that question many times over, and my answers today are not the same answers that I would have given at various times in the past.

This radical Jesus I have come to know really shook up the status quo. He welcomed and embraced everyone regardless of their status in life, the dreaded tax collector, the prostitute, women, lepers. He suggested that there was but one law, the law of LOVE – Love of God, Love of self, Love of neighbor, and EVERYONE is my neighbor. Wherever we are connected in “love”, there is the Christ. So, for me, this is another answer to the question, “Who do you say I am?”

I believe that, sort of like me, Jesus grew in knowledge and wisdom and understanding of God, though it seems like he caught on much quicker than I. I love the message of Jesus Christ that provides me with a map for my life. I think this message is both exquisitely simple as well as challenging.

I believe that God’s love is so incredibly expansive that it EXPLODED the Universe into being and that Jesus is part of that explosion of love right from the beginning. So this, too, is who Jesus is for me, the Cosmic Jesus.

So, during this Advent season, I will be striving to “put on the mind of Christ” as l continue to ponder the question, “Who do you say I am?” I am hoping that by Christmas Day I will be one step closer to answering this question for myself, although I know this will continue to be an ongoing question throughout my life.

During Advent, I would like to invite you to ask yourself the question “Who do you say I am?” as you prepare for the coming of the Sun and the Son.

"Gaia's Winter Rest" by Wendy Andrew.

Related Off-site Links:
What Christians And Pagans Have In Common During The Holidays – Carol Kuruvilla (HuffPost Religion, December 17, 2015).
Monday's Winter Solstice Marks the Longest Night – Doyle Rice (USA Today, December 21, 2015).
Winter Solstice: Honoring the Longest Night of the Year – T. Thorn Coyle (HuffPost Religion, December 21, 2012).
Celebrating Winter Solstice Around the World – Connie Ricca (MSN, December 22, 2015).
Magic and Genius of Newgrange Never Fails to Astound on the Winter Solstice – Kate Hickey (Irish Central, December 21, 2015).

See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
• Christmastide Approaches
• The Pagan Roots of All Saints Day
• "I Caught a Glimpse of a God"
• The Most Sacred and Simple Mystery of All

Advent: The Season of Blessed Paradox

Yesterday marked the beginning of Advent, that season of the liturgical year full of paradox.

Why do I say this? Well, think about it: Advent is all about waiting while journeying; being centered while engaged in preparations; and retreating inwards in anticipation of revolutionary transformation!

Now that Thanksgiving has past it's also that time of year for putting up Christmas decorations, which is exactly what my friend and housemate Tim and I did on Saturday afternoon when we set up and decorated our Christmas tree!

I therefore share in this post today some of the Advent thoughts I heard articulated yesterday at the Spirit of St. Stephen's Catholic Community . . . and some images of the Christmas tree that Tim and I decorated.

I start with the following reflection by Sr. Joan Chittister.

God is not in the whirlwind, not in blustering and show, Scripture teaches us. God is in the breeze, in the very atmosphere around us, in the little things that shape our lives.

God is in the contradictions that assail us, in the circumstances that challenge us . . . in the life goals that demonstrate our real aspirations, in the burdens that wear us down, in the actions that give witness to the values in our hearts.

God is in the stuff of life . . . God is where we are, including in the very weaknesses that vie for our souls.

God is not a mystery to be sought in strange places and arcane ways.

God is a mystery to be discovered within us and around us.

And savored.

Also shared yesterday at the Spirit of St. Stephen's was a wonderfully insightful and inspiring homily by one of our community members. Here's part of what was shared:

There are multiple references to the image of a thief breaking into a home throughout Scripture. It must have been a big problem and a bigger worry. Just the thought of it can bring an apprehensive shiver—that feeling of invasion, vulnerability and eroded trust. We who are blessed with wealth know that things can be replaced but feeling safe is harder to come by.

So, is God a thief, wanting to break in and startle us? Does God want us to be afraid? Of course not. God wants us to pay attention, to prepare, to be ready and awake.

Is God a thief? Of course. God is the thief who wants to break into our barricaded hearts and souls to shine the light of day on the treasures there. God is the thief who wants to steal our economy of war and death and dazzle us with the light of peace with justice. God is the thief who can wait no longer for an invitation but must be an intimate part of our lives—right now.

Joan Chittister says God is in the contradictions, the challenges, the burdens and the actions that give witness to the values in our heart. Simply put: God is where we are.

. . . Megan McKenna calls Advent the “guard dog” rousing us from our sound sleep. There is an intruder in our midst—wake up!

And do what?—Grab a weapon to defend ourselves, our loved ones? Run and hide? Melt into a puddle of fear?

No, the revolutionary call is to fling open all of the doors and the windows, light the lanterns and roll out the red carpet in welcome.

The intruder is the One we have been waiting for.

We would have missed it without the barking of Advent and our prophets and those who beg us to raise our voices with them for living wages and dignified working conditions, for just immigration processes, for housing that feels like home.

Come . . . let us walk in the light of hope and promise. Let us open the home of our heart willingly, putting thieves out of business. Let us be the evidence of peace for pilgrims climbing the holy mountain. Let us be always ready—more than ready, let us be longing—to approach the burning bush of God’s inviting presence.

Better still, let us light the fire of God’s glory and wisdom so that others are drawn to the Holy One’s warm love through our prayers and actions, through our lives of peace with justice.

Welcome to the revolution, fellow pilgrims! Blessed Advent to you.

See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
Something to Cherish
Rejoice? (Advent 2012)
Advent 2011: Thoughts and Reflections (Part 1)
Advent 2011: Thoughts and Reflections (Part 2)
Advent 2011: Thoughts and Reflections (Part 3)
Advent 2011: Thoughts and Reflections (Part 4)
Thoughts on Waiting . . . and a Resolution
Advent: Renewing Our Connection with the Sacred
The Centered Life as an Advent Life
My Advent Prayer for the Church
Advent Thoughts
Letting God Loose
Mystics Full of God
Thoughts on Transformation (Part 1)
Thoughts on Transformation (Part 2)
Thoughts on Transformation (Part 3)
Christmas Baubles

A Big Gay 'Yay!' for the Catholics

Above: Members of Catholics for Marriage Equality MN, Dignity Twin Cities and Spirit of St. Stephen's Catholic Community receive an enthusiastic response from the thousands who gathered to watch the annual Twin Cities Gay Pride parade – Sunday, June 24, 2012.

More photos and commentary coming soon!


In the meantime, check out:
A Catholic Presence at Gay Pride – 2011
A Catholic Presence at Gay Pride – 2010
LGBT Catholics Celebrate Being "Wonderfully Made"
A Catholic Presence at Gay Pride – 2009
A Catholic Presence at Gay Pride – 2008
Inclusive Catholics Celebrate Gay Pride (2007)
300+ People Vigil at the Cathedral in Solidarity with LGBT Catholics
A Catholic Statement of Support for Marriage Equality
At UST, a Rousing and Very Catholic Show of Support for Marriage Equality
Sharing the Good News of Marriage Equality at the Basilica Block Party
Tips on Speaking as a Catholic in Support of Marriage Equality

Image: Michael J. Bayly

The Challenge of Eucharist

Yesterday was Corpus Christi Sunday, the Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ.

And on this day at the worship service of my faith community, the Spirit of St. Stephen's Catholic Community, two young people, including Jonatan, pictured at right, made their First Communion. It was a very inspiring ritual – full of beauty, meaning and the presence of our loving God.

The homily that day, too, was very inspiring. Following are excerpts.

Relationships and community . . . [are] the difference between just attending Mass and celebrating Eucharist. In this gathering of people [we call Eucharist], Jesus becomes truly present to be consumed, absorbed, made one with each of us. And we, consciously, knowingly, willingly open ourselves to that presence within us and among us . . . and what that means when we leave this gathering.

Eucharist is not just Jesus' body and blood. It is Jesus, as he did at the Last Supper, saying, "This is my body, broken for you; this is my blood poured out for the world. Do this in memory of me. Gather for a meal, for community, for mutual support and encouragement. Then go give your body and shed your blood in the service of others." Gathering for this Eucharistic meal, we are blessed to eat the bread prepared by the hands of one of our community members, the bread consecrated by our community. In the context of this community, we are challenged to be the bread of life, to do for one another what Jesus did, namely to be nourishment for one another's lives and being, to care for one another as for oneself, to be for one another manna in the wilderness.

Father Ron Rohlheiser says that , "The Eucharist invites us to become like the kernels of wheat that make up the bread and the clusters of grapes that make up the wine, broken down and crushed so that we can become part of a communal loaf and single cup.

Occasionally when St. Augustine was giving the Eucharist to a communicant, instead of saying, "The Body of Christ", he would say: "Receive what you are." That puts things correctly. What is supposed to happen at the Eucharist is that we, by sacrificing the things that divide us, should become the body and blood of Christ. More so than the bread and wine, we, the people, are meant to be changed" into the Body and Blood of Christ. That is the real transubstantiation!

. . . Today, as we celebrate First Communion with Jonatan and Noah, as we celebrate Eucharist, let us renew our own commitment to be Eucharistic people, willing to be bread that is blessed, broken and given for each other and for the life of the world.

See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
Celebrating and Embodying Divine Hospitality
"Receive What You Are, the Body of Christ"
Trusting God's Generous Invitation
Take This Bread
Reflections on Corpus Christi Sunday (2009)
"Take, All of You, and Eat": Communion and the Rainbow Sash (Part 1)
"Take, All of You, and Eat": Communion and the Rainbow Sash (Part 2)
"Take, All of You, and Eat": Communion and the Rainbow Sash (Part 3)
My Rainbow Sash Experience
"Homodevotion" to the Body of Christ
Corpus Christ (2007)

Prayer of the Week

The following prayer is adapted from one shared earlier today, the Fifth Sunday of Lent, at the Spirit of St. Stephen’s Catholic Community.

We pray with all who receive another chance at life.
We pray with all who have been in the tomb of Lazarus.
We pray with all who have been lifeless, imprisoned by a stone,
tightly bound or in the dark.

We pray with all who know the sorrow of Martha and Mary
yet are not graced with physical resurrection.
We pray with all who have responded to the call from Jesus to "Come out!"
We pray with all who have heard the call but are too bound to respond.

We pray in gratitude for the gifts of community
that unbind us when we cannot do so for ourselves.
We pray for all who weep.
We pray with all who must see to believe
and all who have difficulty with such seeing.
We pray in gratitude for the many gifts of deep friendships,
such as the one Jesus and Lazarus shared.

See also the previous Wild Reed post:
The Raising of Lazarus and the Gay Experience of Coming Out

Image: "Jesus at the Bethany Home" by Hanna Cheriyan Varghese (from the "Jesus Laughing" exhibition. Says Vargheses: "The painting depicts a relaxed and happy Jesus in the company of Mary, Martha and Lazarus. When Lazarus died 'Jesus wept.' To weep for him meant that Jesus had great times of joy in sharing and laughter with the siblings – Mary, Martha and Lazarus. These three gave Jesus the welcome and sense of family and companionship, and an oasis in His busy ministry of teaching, healing and journeying. He could relax from His weariness and enjoy the hospitality of good food and conversation. They loved each other and shared jokes that must have provoked much laughter and smiles. A loving God gave us the emotional gifts of joy, love and laughter. Surely Jesus is no exception.

Prayer of the Week

The following prayer is adapted from one shared earlier today, Transfiguration Sunday, at the Spirit of St. Stephen’s Catholic Community.

We pray with all who know transfiguring change.
We pray with all whose lives have been changed
by a vision, a dream or a teacher.
We pray with all for whom a physical challenge
has changed their lives.
We pray with all parents whose lives are changed forever
with the arrival of a child.
With pray with all partners, lovers, husbands and wives
whose lives are changed forever in the presence of unearned love.
We pray with all whose lives are transformed by friendship.
We pray with all who know the transforming power of Mother Earth.
We pray with all who mourn the loss of anything, especially loved ones.
We pray in hope that our transfigured hearts will lead to transformed actions
in restoring the treasure of our beautiful, fragile planet.
We pray with all who consciously make transfiguring choices
and all who are surprised by the consequences of their choices.
We pray in gratitude for the Holy Spirit who opens our hearts
to the possibility of change over and over again.
We pray in gratitude for the wisdom of our elders,
those who have lived long enough to reflect
on the magnitude of transformation.
We pray with all who thrive on change
and all who fear the very thought of it.
We pray with all who abuse substances
in an attempt to deny or ignore change.
We pray with all whose mental capacity or illness
makes even small changes so very difficult.
We pray with all who love someone difficult to love;
may that love change the world.

Image: "Transfiguration" by Lewis Bowman.

Letting God Loose

Following is an excerpt from the homily delivered last Sunday at the Spirit of St. Stephen’s Catholic Community by my friend Kathleen.

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Advent reminds us of change, of deep paradigm change as happened in the religious world during the era of Jesus, at the time of the Protestant Reformation in the 16th century, and after the Second Vatican Council in the 20th century. Our world is in constant evolution which we experience daily through ecological, social, economical and political change. As anthropologist Jean Huston said at a world forum on ecology, “We find ourselves at present in the midst of the most massive shift of perspective humankind has ever known.” It is an exciting time to be alive and to be an active part of this change on many different levels.

As members of the Spirit of St. Stephen’s Catholic Community we are immersed in evolution within the Catholic Church as a phenomenon we did not wish for but we recognize as a movement of the Spirit who has involved us as “Emerging Church” and “will never let us go” as we state [every Sunday] in our final blessing. We rejoice that this renewal, although bittersweet, is widespread throughout the United States and in many parts of the world. I see this as part of what is unfolding in the large universe story and it does not end with us.

When John the Baptist was calling out for change quoting from Isaiah, “Prepare the way of the Lord, clear a straight path,” and when he pointed to Jesus who was turning unjust social and religious norms upside down, his message was met with strong resistance; so strong that it led to John's beheading and Jesus' crucifixion.

In Liberation Theology, Gustavo Gutierrez defines a prophet as one who “announces the good (God with us - Emmanuel) as justice through right relationships, harmony, peace and joy, and denounces evil as injustice seen through systems of oppression and exploitation.” In [our second reading today] Rabbi Heschel says: “To us, a single act of injustice – cheating in business, exploitation of the poor – is slight; to the prophets a disaster.”

Was Jesus really understood when he proclaimed the beatitudes as guidelines to a religion in transition? Did the people catch the depth of his transformative teaching? “Blessed are you who are poor, hungry, who weep now. Blessed are you when people hate you and exclude you; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets. But I say to you that listen, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you. Do to others as you would have them do to you.” (Luke 6: 20-27)

A significant rebirth is taking place in many parts of the world and I would like to draw attention to Latin America, especially as we remember our four women martyrs in El Salvador. This year Cuba celebrates 50 years of resistance to the Goliath of the North. That was a paradigm shift that is still barely accepted in the North. Other nations such as Venezuela, Ecuador, Bolivia, Chile, Argentina, Paraguay, Uruguay, Brazil, El Salvador, Nicaragua, and, until recently Honduras, are embracing their own destinies as they link with other cultures to tap into the potential of their unique histories and cultural riches many of which are indigenous. This paradigm shift is in great contrast to the policies of Manifest Destiny which gave the U.S. the presumed right to exploit the resources of Latin America, building up a lucrative first world society and leaving Latin America in poverty and ignorance.

On a personal level we can also see paradigm shifts in our lives and those of our friends and families as we pass through multiple experiences of birth, death and rebirth. It is not so much that God comes to us, rather we discover God present deep within us and in our life-giving experiences with others. During Advent and Christmas we bring God forth and even give birth to God through our acts of kindness and reaching out to others close to home or in other lands.

Sometimes God has lain dormant within us for years as we refuse to forgive old hurts or relate to others. Why do we choose to connect with others at this time with a card, a visit, a gift, or a telephone call? Is it that we are searching for a deeper union, a communion with those we love and who love us? Is it a time to level the rough paths and let God be known and seen through us? We oftentimes describe it as frenzy when we get caught up in the consumer society but might we think of it as ecstatic as we push ourselves to “let God loose” in all her generosity with special foods and music, decorations in the home and neighborhood. And then afterward there will be the quieting down, the return to the ordinary. We cannot sustain the intensity of this season for long, just as we cannot sustain ecstasy in our frail bodies.

St. Augustine has said: “The glory of God is the human person fully alive.” Isn’t that exactly what we attempt to live during this season more than at any other time of year?




For previous Wild Reed posts about the Spirit of St. Stephen’s Catholic Community, click here.


See also the previous Wild Reed posts
• Thoughts of Waiting and a Resolution
• Advent Thoughts
• My Advent Prayer for the Church
• Thomas Merton on “the Advent Mystery”
• The Centered Life as an Advent Life
• Advent: Renewing Our Connection to the Sacred

Image: “Paradigm Shift” (2007) by Mike Bougher.

Alive and Well . . . and Flourishing!

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Fellow Spirit of St. Stephen’s Catholic Community member, John Koller, has the following letter in today’s Star Tribune.

It Was Never a Building but Rather a Community

Both the Feb. 15 column by Jon Tevlin on St. Stephen’s parish and the Feb. 22 letters in response describe a parish in decline, a sad story, a dying community. But there is another side to the story.

A larger portion of the former St. Stephen’s parish is alive, well and, indeed, flourishing. This group made a concerted decision a year ago to stay together to continue the fully inclusive and evolving form of worship that had nurtured it over recent decades. It has created the community structures needed to sustain us in its identity, prayer and in its work for justice and care of the poor and needy of our larger neighborhood. We have had to find a new place for our worship and mission, but we are still here in south Minneapolis and very much alive. The spirit of St. Stephen’s lives!

John Koller
St. Louis Park, MN


Recommended Off-site Link:
Spirit of St. Stephen’s Catholic Community

The Spirit of St. Stephen’s Video Documentary:
Introduction
Part 1 – The Early Years

See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
The Shrinking Catholic Tent
A Catholic “Crisis and Opportunity” in South Minneapolis
Of Mustard Seeds and Walled Gardens
Dispatches from the Periphery
The “Underground Church”

Opening Image: “We Are the Church” banner by Anne C. Brink.

A Catholic “Crisis and Opportunity” in South Minneapolis

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While some see the situation at the parish of St. Stephen’s in South Minneapolis as a crisis, others see it as an opportunity to embody the reform and renewal so desperately needed in the Church. It’s an opportunity that many members of the parish have seized upon in their decision to leave and establish the Spirit of St. Stephen’s Catholic Community.


The faith community that I worship with every Sunday, the Spirit of St. Stephen’s Catholic Community, was mentioned today in a rather choppily written piece by Jon Tevlin in the Star Tribune.

Tevlin writes about growing up opposite the parish of St. Stephen’s in South Minneapolis, and the current crisis and opportunity that the parish is facing given last year’s mass exodus of parishioners in response to the chancery’s order that the parish conform its various liturgies to the rubrics of the General Instruction of the Roman Missal (GIRM).

As I note in a previous Wild Reed post, I’m sure that for many Catholic parishes, the rubrics of GIRM serve well to express and reflect their faith and community life. Yet over the course of 40 years, St. Stephen’s had developed its liturgy in ways that reflected the presence of the Spirit as discerned in the unique gifts and needs of its members and in their shared life together.

This development was a very intentional and faith-filled embodiment of the Second Vatican Council’s call for “full and active participation” of the laity in “liturgical celebrations” (Sacrosanctum Concilium, 1963). Yet many now feel that, in one fell swoop, this embodiment – along with the Spirit that nurtured and inspired it – was discounted by the chancery’s demand that it be abandoned for the rubrics of GIRM.



Those who left St. Stephen’s, myself included, have formed the Spirit of St. Stephen’s Catholic Community. We gather every Sunday morning at Park House (which, ironically, is owned by the archdiocese) to “share and break open the Word” and to celebrate the Eucharist. Attendance on any given Sunday is always around 200. Partly for this reason, we’re currently in negotiations to move to a larger space.

It was during the time of the chancery’s directive to the parish and the subsequent exodus of parishioners, that a new pastor, Rev. Joseph Williams, was appointed to St. Stephen’s. Tevlin’s commentary, in large part, focuses on how the 34-year-old Williams is dealing with the situation at St. Stephen’s. In doing so, Tevlin misses a great opportunity to explore and discuss the bigger, underlying issues at play here:

How is church understood by the various players?

Can conflicting models of church be discerned in all of this?

How do these differing models understand the mission of the church?

In determining this mission, what should be our inspiration and guide?

From my perspective, this “inspiration and guide” should be the life and ministry of Jesus of Nazareth. It was a life and ministry that was all about two interrelated and quite revolutionary things: 1) God’s loving presence in our lives, here and now; and 2) liberation from oppressive forces and limiting mindsets that prevent us from recognizing and embodying this presence, and living lives of consciousness and compassion, i.e., that “abundant life” that Jesus invites all to participate in. (And, of course, intrinsic to all of this is the radical hospitality of Jesus that is reflective of God’s extravagant welcome to all.)

The question now becomes: which model of church – the chancery’s or the Spirit of St. Stephen’s – best embodies Jesus’ life and ministry?

Is it possible that aspects of both models can have a role to play in this embodiment?

How best can we come together to dialogue and discern these aspects and roles?

Exploring these types of questions would make for a compelling article, don’t you think?

Anyway, below is Tevlin’s column in its entirety (accompanied by a few of my own observations and thoughts), followed by some further reflections of mine on this situation.

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“We’re Taking on Water,”
and New Priest Knows He Can’t Walk on It

By Jon Tevlin
Star Tribune
February 15, 2009

Father Joseph Williams came “from the farm to the hood” less than a year ago, to a congregation in a spiritual crisis and a neighborhood riddled with poverty and crime. He is only 34, but as he sits in a low-ceilinged office in the basement of St. Stephen’s Catholic Church, it seems like the weight of the 110-year-old structure, and the centuries-old institution itself, sit squarely on his shoulders.

When Williams arrived in April, there were 350 families at the church, maybe more. On a recent Sunday, during the only remaining mass in English, coughs echoed off the empty pews as a couple of dozen people mumbled through the service.

That’s it, he said.

The rest have fled, or just given up.

Williams, under the direction of a new pope and new archbishop, has steered one of the country’s most liberal churches in a more orthodox direction. No more services in the “egalitarian” school gym. No more laity saying mass or celebrating the eucharist. No more prayers to “our father and mother in heaven.”

The collection plate is down 90 percent. This spring, the priest who not long ago led a congregation in an idyllic small town, will tell the charter school known for a peace-and-justice curriculum that it must go because the church needs more rent.

Williams – smart, witty and likable – talks about providence, his faith that God is directing this drama. But when asked if the congregation could continue if it did not grow, he frowns.

“No,” he said. “We’re taking on water.”

Former St. Stephen’s priest Ed Flahavan says that two tsunamis have hit the church, which towers over the Whittier and Phillips neighborhood a half-mile from downtown Minneapolis. The first was in 1968, bringing with it the flotsam of the era.

I lived across the street, was an altar boy and graduated from the Catholic grade school. My first job was cleaning up the basement, where homeless people crashed on floor mats. I saw the first guitar mass, the start of the American Indian Movement and gay rights. We sang Bob Dylan songs instead of hymns. Except the answer, my friend, was living in all men.

In protest, the traditionalists handed out fliers, Defenders’ Trumpet, saying things had gone crazy. I sometimes had to squeeze through picket lines to serve mass, as barriers to worship came down, or went up, depending on your view.

Eventually, the church stopped being the center of the neighborhood, which crumbled. A man was killed in my back yard. The fourplex where I grew up became a crack house after my parents fled to Staples, seeking a different kind of sanctuary.

The second tsunami hit last winter, exactly 40 years later. Henry Bromelkamp was in the forefront of the new exodus, starting an offshoot called “The Spirit of St. Stephens” when the parish turned back to tradition.

Bromelkamp personally likes Williams, “but I think he thought what St. Stephen’s did for the poor was charity,” he said. “It’s a demand for justice, not just for the poor, but for all of us. Hierarchy acts like the route to God is only through its hierarchy. That doesn’t make us believe it.”

The new priest thought there was “no opposition between a shared liturgy and a radical passion for social services. Maybe I was naively optimistic to that end,” Williams said. “I began to realize the anger with the institution was deeper than I thought. They didn’t see that people were hurt by the liberties taken with the liturgy.” What people? The cranks who came and secretly took photos during liturgies so as to run to the chancery and report “abuses”?

“Some people said I was hand-picked by the bishops to dismantle the church,” he continued. “If I was, they didn’t tell me about it.” Whose ever decision it was to send the young Williams to St. Stephen’s, it was an irresponsible and misguided one. Look, I’ve met Williams and he is, as Tevlin notes, a “smart, witty, and likable” guy, but the situation at St. Stephen’s needed a more experienced individual. Then again, given the determination of Archbishop Nienstedt to “reign in” the parish, it would have taken quite a wise and courageous individual to attempt to argue the case that the liturgy that had developed at St. Stephen’s was the work of the Spirit, and that Catholicism should be broad enough and strong enough to handle diversity of this kind.

Dennis McGrath, spokesman for the Archdiocese of St. Paul and Minneapolis, is firm on that question: “Absolutely not.”

While McGrath has seen lots of rifts inside churches, “I can’t think of another situation like this. It’s not a conservative or liberal issue, though that’s part of it, it’s a question of the veracity of the church.” Actually, I think it’s all about differing understandings of church and what it means to be Catholic. Does being a Catholic mean unquestioning obedience to rubrics and to every utterance of the hierarchy? Or is it about viewing and engaging the world in a profoundly loving and sacramental way – a way that seeks and discerns God in ever new and unexpected places? Is the church a static entity, with revelation over and done with? Or is it possible to hold onto certain foundational traditions while still being open to God’s ongoing revelation in the lives and relationships of all? These are the crucial questions at the heart of what's going on at St. Stephen’s and in parishes across the globe.

“We knew we were drifting across the line,” Flahavan said. “Some who left kept going. They left Rome.”

I left the church, in both senses of the word, years ago. [Okay, just so you know,this is the author talking now, not Flahavan. The first time I read it, I thought this paragraph was a continuation of Flahaven’s remarks in the preceding paragraph.] I followed the prophets that seemed to speak to me at the time, whether it was Sartre, Rand or Hunter S. Thompson. My own Church of One. Unlike those who recently left, however, I never expected the church to come with me.

“This is more than I bargained for,” admits Williams, who again mentions providence.

He sees promise in the new influx of immigrants (Williams is fluent in Spanish) who can rejuvenate St. Stephen’s as the Irish did decades ago: “Lovely people.”

“While there is a sense of loss, there is also great hope for renewal,” Williams said. “Our doors are open.” From my perspective, the “great hope for renewal” that Williams refers to is being realized at the Spirit of St. Stephen’s Catholic Community.

– Jon Tevlin
Star Tribune (Minneapolis)
February 15, 2009

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Friends, here are a few more of my thoughts on this situation: As I said in my October 5, 2008 homily at the Spirit of St. Stephen’s Catholic Community, I’m convinced that if there’s any hope for the Catholic Church to be a sacrament of God’s unconditional love for all, it’s to be found within the myriad of “intentional faith” communities springing up throughout Catholicism – Spirit of St. Stephen’s in Minneapolis, St. Mary’s in Brisbane, Australia, Spiritus Christi Church in Rochester, New York, etc. – and within the various Catholic organizations and coalitions calling for renewal and reform.

What do these communities and organizations all have in common? They have moved, in a sense, to the periphery of the tradition and thus to a place where their members can be open to the Spirit beyond the life-denying clericalism and doctrinal fundamentalism that dominate and control the center.

I take great courage and hope in what theologian Leonardo Boff has to say about the periphery. He writes that: “It is on the periphery where life flourishes in all its exuberance and as a challenge, [it’s on the periphery] where those who hope and live at the margin of all organization, find the necessary soil for the creativity and emergence of what is new and not yet taught.” (1)

Using St. Francis of Assisi as an example, Boff observes that “the periphery is where the great prophets arise, where the reforming movements are born, and where the Spirit flourishes. The periphery possesses a theological privilege, because it is there that the Son of God was born.” (2)

I believe Christ continues to be born in the lives, relationships, and faith communities that find themselves, either by choice or by force, on the periphery. In this current time of crisis and opportunity within the Church, it’s no longer only women and gay people living and prophesizing from this holy place, but anyone and everyone who recognizes that the hallmark of our Catholic faith is not rigid adherence to church doctrine but the seeking and embodying of compassion and justice within the context of a pilgrim church still very much growing into truth.


1-2. Boff, Leonardo. Francis of Assisi: A Model for Human Liberation (Orbis Books, 2006), p. 101.

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Following are a sample of the comments that have been left on the Star Tribune website in response to Joe Tevlin’s column.

Sagewoman writes: For many people since the 1960’s, St. Stephen’s was the “Church of Last Resort,” a Catholic Church that kept all the vitality of Vatican II and inspired its members to act for justice, within the Church and outside it. Unquestionably its liturgies “crossed the line” of liturgical rules; unquestionably, those liturgies grew out of forty years of community prayer and seeking God’s will. Unquestionably, Archbishops Roach and Flynn knew exactly how liturgies were performed at St. Stephen’s, and apparently weren’t sufficiently worried about our souls or our creating scandal to do anything about it. I believe that Father Joseph is a good and sincere man, doing what he thinks is right. I think he and others in the hierarchy “have gotten it wrong,” but I can still have compassion for him and respect him and pray for him. I feel the same energy from Father Joseph. He cares about us and respects our doing what we feel is right, while being very clear that he thinks we “have gotten it wrong” and I am sure he prays for us. I only wish that those Catholic “conservatives” who are so sure they have the Truth that they can condemn others in letters to the editor and blogs could have some respect and compassion for those who believe they are following their God’s will and consider that we may be acting on our consciences.

Bill writes: The Catholic Church holds that the Pope is STILL infallible when he speaks on matters of core doctrine. But he is not infallible in day-to-day life; that is, he is not impeccable. As for the Church changing, I find that the Church is returning to its roots after its disastrous 40-year romance with modernity, and I say, not a moment too soon. Most of the younger priests I’ve seen in the past ten years are far more conservative than the flower-child, anything-goes hippie priests who were ordained in the 1960s and 1970s (no, not every priest ordained in the 1960s or 70s was like that). They will soon be gone and the Church will be better for it. As far as social justice is concerned, the Church is in favor if it; they just mean something different by it than radicals such as [those] mentioned in [this] story. As for inclusion/exclusion, the church includes everyone but those who are defiant of its teachings in a public way, and these people are always welcome back if they repent. It does this so that its followers develop an understanding that a person cannot behave however he wishes and still get to Heaven. (For those who don’t believe Jesus ever spoke about sinners ending up in Hell, please read one of the Gospels. It takes less time than you think.)

A Spirit of St. Stephen’s member writes: St. Stephen’s new driving force, the hierarchy, is driving a once vibrant parish, one of many I believe that truly took the gospel of justice in action seriously (which is why I gravitated to it 20 years ago), right into the ground. All this for the sake of not God’s truth but for an idea of that truth held to veraciously by a bunch of men in Rome who are no longer listening to God speaking through God’s people. It is the typical path of any institution that grows large – the rules that it needs to operate well become an end unto themselves and everyone forgets what it was all for in the first place. Eventually it either finds a way to evolve or it dies. And one can easily see this one is dying. Funny you didn’t even mention that the Spirit of St. Stephen’s community that marched out on that cold day last Winter is a 300+ member strong and vibrant community only a few blocks away. And we have come to learn that there are many communities just like us around the nation that have been forced to declare their independence. You say, fine, don’t let the door hit you on the way out because you’re not truly catholic, but your words are starting to bounce against the walls of an empty sanctuary. When will you decide that your rules might be the problem and you should start listening again to what God might be telling you in all this?

Joe writes: I believe that this had to happen. Things had gone way off course. I certainly believe the causes and feelings for the most part were Catholic. But you can’t just decide your going to make up your own rules and expect the Church to be able to bend to that extent. It is very sad, a failure that hurts all. But, it is never to late to rally back and be one with Jesus again.

Denis writes: My sense is that [Father Joseph Williams] wants to be a good pastor and that ideology is not his focus. Unfortunately the Church is judged by the very public actions of the hierarchy. Rewarding Bernard Law with a plush assignment in Rome when he disgraced himself and scandalized the world is bad enough. But for the Pope to take a week to recognize that welcoming a Holocaust denier back to the Church (and then only after a Lutheran, Chancellor Merkel, forced his hand) establishes beyond any reasonable debate that the institutional church has abandoned all moral sense in favor of an institutional ideology. The tens of thousands of good priests have their work undone by the hierarchy’s disposition to ignore the needs of the flock in favor of the needs of the shepherd’s association. “Jesus wept.”

Modesta26 writes: Fr. Willaims and Deacon Ruby, Thank you for your dedication to the Church. Thank you for providing the Sacraments to us. Thank you for your courage, may the Good Lord grant you perseverance and reward you greatly for your dedication to Him. Keep up the good work. God Bless you.

Tom writes: I don’t want to argue with Fr. Joseph when he says, “They didn’t see that people were hurt by the liberties taken with the liturgy.” But I will say that the actions taken by the archdiocese ignored the tremendous amount of healing that I saw at St. Stephen’s in the 26 years I attended mass there. People found healing in our liturgies and these people, working for social justice as demanded by the gospel, worked to bring healing to the neighborhood and our city. The Catholic Church managed just fine during the 40 years our liturgy evolved at St. Stephen’s. The new archbishop took a different path from his two predecessors, and reacted with power instead of healing. His actions have hurt both the parish and the greater Church.

And finally, in a letter-to-the-editor published on February 18, Richard Cousins writes: In his Feb. 15 column about St. Stephen’s Parish, Jon Tevlin wrote compassionately about the demise of the parish under the leadership of the Rev. Joseph Williams. As a former parishioner, I was glad that the greater community could learn a bit about what had happened at St. Stephen’s. Williams was quoted in the article: “They [former St. Stephen’s parishioners] didn’t see that people were hurt by the liberties taken with the liturgy.” What Williams fails to admit, however, is that he did not come to minister to the congregation of St. Stephens but to end these “liberties” and bring St. Stephen’s in line with the more regressive inclinations of the current hierarchy of the Roman Catholic Church. Williams was an agent of change in the dismantling of a vibrant faith community, regardless of his age or admitted naivety.

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See also the previous Wild Reed post:
• Dispatches from the Periphery
• The Shrinking Catholic Tent
• The “Underground Church”
• A “Catholic Moment” in Brisbane
• What It Means to Be Catholic
• “The Real Battle”
• Choosing to Stay
• Thoughts on Authority and Fidelity
• The Holarchical Church: Not a Pyramid But a Web of Relationships
• Benedict’s Understanding of Church
• Clearing Away the Debris

Images: Michael Bayly (with the exception of the photograph of Joseph Williams at St. Stephen’s, which is by Star Tribune photographer Carlos Gonzalez).

“We Are the Church” Banner: Anne C. Brink.