29:: Saint Peter Catholic Church

Today I attended Mass at Saint Peter Catholic Church in uptown Charlotte. This church is in the middle of the city, so it's about a five-minute walk from where I live. Additionally, it is a Jesuit Church, meaning the Priests of this church are part of the Jesuit Order, which is formally named The Society of Jesus. This Order was founded by St. Ignatius of Loyola. 

This church has one Mass on Saturday night, three Sunday morning and one Sunday evening. I attended the 9 am Mass. It was so full that I was told to join the overflow crowd in the basement of the church. This overflow situation was not due to the main sanctuary being completely full - it was because it was limited to 200 people.

Because I was ushered into the basement, I had to go to the main sanctuary after Mass ended. I took many pictures after the church had cleared out, which explains why I have pictures of an empty church. 

Here are those pictures, which include some of the outside, as well as a statue of Loyola, a columbarium and the church's manse:

The Mass is a service that I have become a bit accustomed to by now. This is my fourth Catholic Mass and I have a general sense of what to do - when to stand, when to make the sign of the cross, when to say "And unto you..." and when to pretend that I am saying things that Catholics say. I respect that I am forbidden from the communion elements that are served at Mass, so that is a missing piece for me.

Today, I paid closer attention to the music at this Mass. It is like all of the other music that I have heard in similar Mass services - beautiful song sung by a soprano, liturgical words and a vague sense that the music is without era. It could have been sung five hundred years ago or today. 

Have a listen...

I have nothing good or bad to say about taking Mass in a basement of a Catholic Church. It was unique and this journey is one in which I am inherently open to the unexpected.

Here are some pictures from the basement:

The homily (what non-Catholics might call a sermon) was the part that provoked thought in me. The Priest said a few things in a very clear order:

1) Our individual gifts are from God
2) We are obligated to use our gifts to help others and repair a broken world
3) In the use of gifts, the "we" is to be seen as greater than the "I"

This third point was mentioned as something that Pope Francis recently reiterated in a Papal Encyclical, the idea of putting "tribe above self" is a valid interpretation of the Gospel.

It caught my attention. My initial instinct was to believe that this is a problematic statement. My political philosophy is that the locus of power must rest with the individual and move to the "we" only when there is a compelling case made for that change. But my theological construct around "we" above "I" is pretty immature. And I had the good sense not to insert my political philosophy into my theology.

I backed away and contemplated this idea of "we above "I". For hours. I also had a conversation with my wise and insightful girlfriend during which she raised some excellent insights. And then, as is best done with any theological reckoning, I took the question to the Cross.

First, it makes perfect sense that this would be a Catholic teaching. Conversely, it makes perfect sense that I might have had a slight recoil from the same idea. Catholicism is very much grounded in having their members think as part of a "we." The very word Catholic includes the definition "Including or concerning all humankind; universal." This is "we" to the very core of what it means to be Catholic.

I, a man raised as a Protestant, have been more exposed to a religious milieu in which there is some emphasis put on your personal story of faith. We say things that sound more like this... 

"When I knew I needed the Lord..." 

"On the day that I got saved..." 

"My journey to the foot of the Cross started when..."

In addition to the specific reasons why the Priest's homily and I didn't match up, there are more layers to it.

In reality, the term "we" arises from an aggregate of the "I" state. The two words only mean something when taken into account against the other. So, there is a linguistic dimension that made me see that these words are inextricably bound in each other.

Finally, how can we approach this question by bringing it to the Cross? It's always the right place to go. Once I did that, the question became much clearer.

The Cross itself is the ultimate example of "we" above "I" for this world. The logos, the "I" that was present at the inception of the universe (John 1:1-3), handed Himself over to the Romans and the Jewish religious leaders to face certain death (plot twist later, but you already know that). 

That death was the divine expression of the "I" subverted to the "we" of the addled world that we live in.

I own my "I" and am entrusted with overseeing only that. It has proven to be a sufficient challenge! I do not want to control, change, manage or influence other people. Give guidance? Sure. Use my talents and resources to help others? Yes.

I concede that in a theological pondering, "we" can absolutely go above the "I" in many or most cases. Politically, I am more skeptical of this same idea.

With all of that said, what would this sense of collective obligation to each other mean in the current environment? 

I think it would mean many things, and we are perhaps falling short in most of them. 

A great example of where our obligation to our neighbors isn't being fulfilled in in the burgeoning homeless problem in Charlotte. Yesterday, Beth and I were driving around and I got a glimpse of the scale of the problem by seeing the tent city that has spun up on the edge of uptown. 

I had no idea how serious the problem is. To learn more - click this link. 

To have talents that enable you to produce some abundance is a gift. A gift from God. And if it is theologically sound that "we " can go above "I" in many cases, then we can reasonably feel that we are falling short in our Christian obligations. That this level of poverty is proliferating in the shadows of a skyline with so many busy cranes and shining (currently empty) office towers is an indictment of how we are as Charlotteans, North Carolinians and Americans. 

And I personally don't know what to do about it. In addition to the structural questions we can ask about a society that often prizes profits above people, we can ask individual questions around what we value and where our treasure is. I can be counted as one of those who isn't quick to have an answer on what to do.

Most importantly, the image of God - what Catholic teaching calls Imago Dei - is within each and every individual that lives in that tent camp that is now numbered at one hundred and fifty. Which is all the more reason that we are falling short in our obligations to one another.

So much to think about and so much to do.

I enjoyed my time at Saint Peter Catholic Church this morning. It changed my thinking on an important question and for that I am grateful.

Amen.