(This homily was delivered to the Bloomington
Inclusive Mass, An Old Catholic Parish, in Bloomington, Indiana on November 2,
2014)
The original Star Trek series and
its successor The Next Generation
begins with the respective captains of the U.S.S. Enterprise saying, “Space,
the final frontier . . .”
“Space” is one of those words that have multiple meanings: It can refer to
the region beyond the earth’s atmosphere, the “final frontier” as the Star Trek captains explained. It can be
the unlimited three-dimensional expanse in which all material objects are
located, the distance between two or more objects, or just an empty or
unoccupied area.
Space can be a particular place, such as a seat at a table or in a pew.
“Sir, you are in my space” we might overhear someone say to an unsuspecting
guest worshiper.
Some people just need their space. We have a special needs daughter on the
autism spectrum who loves to inch up to people and get as close as she possibly
can. We often have to tell her, “Megan, give them some space.”
Space can refer to someone who seems to have too much emptiness between the
ears. So-and-so is spacey, spaced out, or a space cadet, we might say.
In the world of religion we have our own notion of space. Specifically, we
have our sacred space—an altar or a
chancel area or the sanctuary itself.
One of the best things we can do as religious institutions, however, is to give people their space. The church
needs to be an institution of space and
grace. The church needs to give people the space—the freedom—to grow
spiritually, to relate to God, to work out their salvation, to fulfill their
calling. The church needs to give people the space to succeed or fail, to
evolve in their practice of love, to develop their own sense of right and
wrong, and to make their own choices about theology and church doctrine.
At its best the church is a spacious garden
of freedom, love, and grace; at its worst it is a suffocating swampland that cripples
souls and dehydrates spirits. The church is suffocating when it places
unnecessary burdens on people, which is a way of taking away space and grace.
When the church places unnecessary burdens on people, the people perish.
In Matthew 23, Jesus tells his listeners not to follow the leaders of his
place and time because they did just that: They overburdened people and, at the
same time, were unwilling to carry the same burdens. Rather than nourishing
people with the banquet of God, Jesus accused them of packaging what God has to
offer “in bundles and rules,” loading them down like pack animals.
Even today, the greatest obstacle to a church of space and grace is the
tendency of church leaders (of all denominations) to occupy their own space as if they were anointed
royalty. They love name recognition, titles, honorary degrees, places of honor,
and prominent positions. They love their
space and their place while ignoring God’s grace.
At its best the church removes the ecclesiastical mirage of the space
between the ordained and the laity, recognizing that the burdens to bring
justice and peace to this chaotic world are shared burdens. We are all in the
same fishbowl. We occupy the same space and we all stand equally at the center
of our known universe.
The church needs to give you and me some space—space to breathe, space to grow,
space to love—without being overly encumbered. But how do we go forward
gracefully in this space that God wants us to have?
Thomas Paine once said, “Lead, follow, or get out of the way.” This makes
for a great bumper sticker, although when I see it my first thought is always,
“I’m obviously following this car, so
why the lecture?” This slogan accurately describes three different types of
people in the world: those who lead, those who follow, and those who just get
out of the way. People don’t always fit
just one of these types. We occupy these three roles at different times and for
different reasons.
For example, I have been a leader
in my life. I am a mother and grandmother and a former school teacher, all of
which require leadership skills. I have led various groups, including the
formation of an annual special needs art show in Kentucky.
I have also been a follower. I am
someone’s daughter, I have been a student on several levels, and I was a nun
for several years. You can’t be a nun if you don’t follow orders!
And then there are times when I have simply gotten out of the way, when
something didn’t concern me, when something was none of my business, when I
felt that my involvement in something was not good for me or others. These are
the times when my gift to others is space
and grace, nothing more, nothing less.
Most of us have had opportunities to lead,
obligations to follow, and occasions to
get out of the way. As someone
studying for the priesthood in the Women’s Priest movement, I have had to
decide which choice is best for me. The first choice I had to make was whether
or not to get out of the way—to give it—the movement—some space! When I first
heard about the movement, my natural inclination was to step aside and not be
involved. I knew instinctively that if I didn’t get out of the way of this
movement, a giant can of worms would open in my life and I would never get the
opportunity to get out of the way again. I knew this would follow me my entire
life, even more so than my few years in the convent as a younger woman. Once
you get on the bandwagon of an alternative, inclusive Catholic community, there
is no getting out of the way!
I chose not to get out of the way.
I chose to occupy the space known as the Roman Catholic Women’s Priest
movement. That leaves only the other two choices: lead or follow. For now,
thankfully, I am a follower more than
a leader. I have a lot yet to learn. I have had to voluntarily place my trust
in certain leaders in my movement, especially my bishop and my mentors.
My personal goal, however, is ultimately to be a leader in the Women’s Priest movement. This is what I am called to
do. And yet, if and when I get there I will have to learn a very valuable
lesson, one that all those in leadership in the church needs to learn and
practice: to get out of the way—in an
active way rather than a passive way—to facilitate and provide space and grace for those who are on the
same journey, although maybe in a different place.
Getting out of the way and offering people space and grace may be the greatest gift we can bring to our faith communities.
There is a graceful wisdom in knowing when to get out of the way, to allow
others the space to grow, make decisions, and even make mistakes.
I call on the church of Jesus Christ, in all its many
manifestations, to employ this gift generously. Let us work to make the church
a spacious garden of freedom, love, and grace
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