A Little Church

There are times when I am not proud to be a Catholic. The film Spotlight, and its very real echo in the Australian clergy abuse scandals, sickens me. The uncharitableness of many Catholics in their communication with LGBTQ persons breaks my heart. The narrow-mindedness of church-goers who ignore the poor, the planet, and the outcast in the name of building big business make me wonder if we’re even worshipping the same God. There are moments every single day where I am not proud to be Catholic.

And thank goodness for that.

Because the worst thing I can do for my Church is to corrupt its striving for Christ with the self-sufficiency that stems from pride.

Dietrich von Hildebrand writes extensively on pride and humility in his work Transformation in Christ. Pride, he says, contaminates all intrinsically good dispositions. Pride makes us shun an encounter with the personal God wherein we would be forced to confront our own nothingness, debt, and dependence. Pride enslaves us to the constant attempt to enlighten God and other people as to our degree of worthiness. And pride makes us constantly anxious lest we should be dethroned, humiliated, or seen as incomplete, dependent, insignificant.

As a Christian today, I have experienced in myself and those around me a growing sense of uneasiness with the Church’s social status. We worry that Christianity will soon be seen as entirely irrelevant – or worse yet, something to be despised. We look for ways to re-assert the value of our faith either by keeping up with the culture or by highlighting our superiority to modern culture. We do what we can do avoid talking about the sins of clergy or fellow churchgoers – or strongly emphasize that we are not like them. And we glory in the things that we can: showcasing the merits of our Catholic schools and institutions; pointing out the work of the saints and servant-hearted; praising the contributions of artists, musicians, missionaries, volunteers; equipping ourselves in apologetics so we can have the final say in the argument.

Yet how willing are we as a Church to embrace the type of Suffering Servant in Isaiah 53? How willing are we as the Body of Christ to follow his pattern of descent: “Though He was in the form of God, He did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but rather emptied Himself” (Philippians 2)? How willing are we to be the grain of wheat that falls to the ground and dies?

“The path that leads man to his ultimate union with Christ is not the unfolding of his natural powers and of the wealth of his gifts, but his radical renunciation of self-assertion.” Dietrich von Hildebrand

The path that will lead the Church to its eternal hope of heaven is not proud self-defence, but rather the all-encompassing humility that leads us to understand our complete dependence on God.

A proud Church in a changing world operates out of insecurity, grasping to attain approval and prove itself to the world, to its members, or to God. A proud Church is discouraged by the sight of its losses, its failures, and its incapacity to control the course of society’s opinion. A proud Church refuses to be a pilgrim Church, preferring to present a façade of self-sufficiency rather than admit its deep need for Christ’s redeeming love. A proud Church meets the world in full armour, scared to be stripped back to the single garment of charity that Christ himself wore on the Cross.

His way was emptiness.

His way was to assume the role of the lowest servant in washing the feet of others.

His way was the manger, the hidden years, the donkey, the crown of thorns, the condemnation, the cross.

His way is always to scatter the proud in the imagination of their heart, to put down the mighty from their thrones, to exalt the humble and meek, to fill the starving with good things and send the rich away empty.

In my own life, so much of my proud and self-righteous behaviour comes from a perception of scarcity – that I am not enough, that I lack something fundamental, and must therefore improve and assert myself to be accepted. I become anxious at being found wanting, and avoid everything that makes me admit weakness, imperfection, or moral defect.

And you know what Christ says to me? “You’re right. You will never be enough. You lack something fundamental: you are weak and finite and sinful, with a limited understanding of Truth, a limited capacity to act with Love, a limited view of Justice. Your ego constantly clings to illusions, hoping that nobody will notice the collapse and corruption behind them. And you pass judgment on others because you yourself are insecure. You compete with the world rather than being a sign to contradict the times through meekness and humility of heart. Choose littleness, and in it know that you are precious in my sight, and honoured, and I love you.”

What would it look like to choose littleness as a Church?

What would it be to cease our efforts to compete, and instead be a sign to contradict the times through meekness and humility of heart?

It is when we admit what we are lacking that we are capable of encountering Christ. We will not become His beloved by our own efforts or attempts to prove ourselves. We are, each one of us, already His; He has claimed us in our misery, our incompleteness, our limitations, our ugly self-righteousness.

The Church exists to respond to the inconceivable Mercy of God with worship. The Church exists to be a pilgrim people constantly journeying in humility and joy towards union with Christ. The Church does not exist to be proud, self-satisfied, ego-maniacal, competitive, or despondent in the face of its declining social status.

The Church does not exist for its own glory, but to point out the glory of God.

“He must increase, but I must decrease.” John 3:30

AMDG