When Liturgy Isn’t Enough

“Normally,” (whatever that is) I live a very quiet life, not very different from the Sheltering in Place and all the other rules imposed on us over the past three months. But being required to stay away from the presence of friends, from Mass and from receiving Communion, seems more like a penalty imposed upon me, and for what, may I ask?  Yes, I know. It’s a noble purpose: to keep the virus away, to prevent its lethal spread.

But the result of obeying these rules is that it creates a sense of exile, so contrary to what humans prefer. Rules are rules. By their very definition they tell us to do what we’d rather not do. If I’d chosen them freely, I’d call them blessings.

Yes, we have the phone and Zoom and all the rest, but I know I’d prefer to see my friends without the separation created by spacial restrictions and masks.

I can’t help thinking about the lepers in the era when Jesus walked on this infected earth. They, in particular, were required to keep a safe distance from the uninfected, to make noises alerting unsuspecting passers-by.

Despite the rules, our Lord did not stay away from these people. Lepers, the blind, the deaf, the lame, the wounded,  the bleeding and the dead– these were the outcasts, the ones forbidden to mingle with the “pure.” Add to them the folks who flagrantly disobeyed the rules, like the upstart (Jesus) who cured on the Sabbath, who allowed his disciples to pick grain on the Sabbath. That rule-breaker (Jesus again) broke bread with sinners such as tax collectors and women of dubious reputation. How is it he wasn’t afraid to get near to these sinners, these people worse than physically infected? 

Don’t get me wrong. I followed the rules about wearing a mask at the supermarket, about sheltering in place, about keeping friends and strangers at a safe distance, but at least connected digitally. 

And speaking of digital, here’s another confession: Mass online left much to be desired. I don’t think that liturgy on its own is what our Mass is about. Sitting alone in front of that monitor; joining dutifully in the responses; no reception of the sacrament of the Body and Blood (feast to be celebrated this Sunday, by the way) — how cold is that? How far we are from Christ when we can’t witness and join our fellow parishioners in receiving this Sacrament! What use is liturgy without communion? Why isn’t there a rule that requires Christians to reach out at least once a week to offer assistance or a kind act to another human? 

Thankfully, many people have done this on their own, and notably for the past three months –no special rule required. Real Christians mostly respect the rules Jesus gave us: love God in one another; pay attention to our neighbors’ needs.

My soul can take just so much of separation. I look at those “kinds” of people I consider to be “the infected,” the ones Christ came to save. To be a Christian I’m required to obey the same rules that Christ followed and asked us to imitate. 

Oh ugh. This would mean loving just about everybody, not just the ones I like and agree with. Jesus didn’t say, “Agree with your enemy.” Nor did he say, “like” one another. No. Just love them as they are. Forgive them. Pray for them. Pray to be able to forgive and understand them. Be with them –at least in spirit — when you come to lay your gift on the altar.

That’s true Liturgy.

 

Author: Rosalie P. Krajci

Rosalie P. Krajci, Ph. D., is a Benedictine Oblate of Mt. Saviour Monastery in Pine City, NY. She is retired from two careers: as a language teacher and as a consultant in human resources management. Her third and most rewarding career is as a spiritual director and freelance writer. Rosalie and her husband Tom raised seven children. Now widowed, she lives in the Finger Lakes area in upstate New York.

One thought on “When Liturgy Isn’t Enough”

  1. Lovely thoughts. I miss being around my favorite people, too and take to heart what you wrote about forgiveness.

    Like

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