Growing up in the Roman Catholic Church, I was used to hearing about the Sunday “obligation” to attend Mass. The same was true for Holy Days of obligation. I have written before that I don’t find the term “obligation” especially inspiring. On the other hand, I’m deeply sympathetic to what it intends to encourage. The risk of wielding a stick (“the obligation”) in order to get people to church can create an unholy fear, so that people then treat attendance at Mass as a punch card for salvation. So, what if we reframed the idea of “obligation” in the Christian life?
I want to reframe it, not dispense with it, because I believe that duties and practices (which include attendance at Mass) are essential to the Christian life. I believe that the Church in certain corners of the world is experiencing some spiritual atrophy after decades of eschewing demands on Christian discipleship. Perhaps we have not taken seriously enough the necessity of duty and obligation. Simply put: to be a Christian means to be faithful in doing certain things, whether prayer, works of charity and mercy, but most importantly, in attending church. This is not works righteousness because we don’t do things to earn anything. We do them because they visibly express our spiritual posture as followers of the risen Christ.
I’d rather call Sundays and Holy Days days of rejoicing, for that’s really what they are. In an ideal universe, we would get up on a Sunday and leap out of bed because we’re so excited to go to church. But although I’m an idealist, I’m also practical. And I know that each of us has days where we’re just not “feeling it.” The beauty of Christian discipleship is that we need not feel guilty if we’re not “feeling it.” We just know what we need to do: say our prayers, go to church, treat people with kindness, live generously. Sometimes doing those things (especially when we don’t “feel it”) will transform us and get us out of our ruts of malaise or apathy. And often the fruit of what we do is realized in some mysterious way in our lives, later when we least expect it.
Years ago, when I was serving as a musician in a church, I was greeted each day when I showed up for work by an office volunteer, who answered the phone each Wednesday and helped with tasks. She showed up faithfully each week for her volunteer shift, but she never came to church on the Lord’s Day. She said something to the effect of “I can worship God elsewhere.” She was lovely and dedicated in her own way, but I disagreed with her understanding of Christian worship. One is a Christian simply by virtue of being baptized; that is a fact. But to live as a Christian, one must always be connected to a worshipping community to be held accountable to one’s baptismal promises. And while it’s true that there are non-Christians who are more Christlike than Christians who attend Mass every week, this doesn’t mean that we are excused from going to church. Sunday worship is the center of our lives. We can be good people without the Mass, but to forego the Mass means foregoing the spiritual benefits and grace of the sacrament of the altar, which works on us objectively regardless of our feelings. It’s not a magic pill or a vaccine; it’s a mysterious and certain source of grace. And if we also subjectively begin to understand its significance in our lives, then hopefully we are changed, too.
As we move towards a new liturgical year with the start of the season of Advent on December 3, I invite us all to consider making the Lord’s Day (and Holy Days, also called “red letter days”) the heart of our lives of faith. Try it. Try stretching yourself to attend even when you don’t “feel it.” I suspect you will be changed, not out of fear, but out of love.
I have begun to see that the joy many of us experience at coffee hour (or potlucks) following Masses is more than just “fellowship.” That joy springs from a deep bond of love that forms among us when we routinely worship together. Coffee hour is almost a visible extension of the joy fostered and bred during each Mass. Consider the Mass as the source of your life’s joy. The Mass is primarily an act of thanksgiving. When you get out of bed each Sunday (or on Major Holy Days), take a minute to think of all for which you’re grateful. Then go to Mass, because it’s the epitome of thanksgiving.
Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle