The Week of June 23, 2024

Of all the things my parents taught me for which I’m grateful, I may be most grateful for their teaching me to go to church. We went every Sunday, unless we were sick. Admittedly, my feelings about going to church have developed and deepened since I was twelve years old. I enjoy church much more now than I did then, but this demonstrates the point I’m trying to make. I’m thankful that my parents taught me to go to church even when I didn’t want to go or “get something out of it.”

This summer, I’m leading a book study between Sunday Masses, from 9:30 to 10:15 a.m., and we’re reading Why Go to Church?: The Drama of the Eucharist by Timothy Radcliffe. Fr. Radcliffe is a Roman Catholic Dominican brother who lives in England. The book we’re reading was selected by former Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams as a 2009 Lent Book. I admit that there is direct intentionality in reading this particular book during the summer. The summer is when attendance at church drops rapidly. Some of that is understandable, as people travel more during the summer months. But it seems that there’s a growing sense in our culture that summer is a time for “breaks,” including breaks from church. Summer is rightly a time for breaks from work and the busyness of life that typically drags us down and that often is not lifegiving. Summer, however, is not a time for breaks from church! In reading Fr. Radcliffe’s book this summer, during what can seem the most desultory ecclesial months, I want to explore the reason why going to church is so important.

This past Sunday, we held our first meeting of the book study. But don’t worry, it’s not too late to join! You can sign up here or simply show up. Even if you can’t attend all meetings due to travel, please come when you can. During last Sunday’s meeting, participants shared why attending church is so important to them. We agreed that going to church is an obligation in the best sense of the word, rather than in a mere perfunctory, legalistic sense. Going to church is an obligation to God so that we can experience, in a salutary, salvific way, the joy of God’s love, mercy, and compassion, and so we can be fed by God. It’s also an obligation, in the best sense of the word, to one another as member’s of Christ’s Body. We’re accountable to one another. We need one another. By being before God in person in worship, we hold each other in love and prayer and we’re visibly reminded of St. Paul’s theology of the Body of Christ: all of us matter, all of our gifts matter, we are needed in the Church, and we need God and one another.

We also touched on another profound reason for going to church, something that Fr. Radcliffe highlights effectively in his book. Going to church, even when and especially when we don’t “feel like it,” are tired, or “want a break,” is crucial to our spiritual growth. Indeed, it’s bound up with the very way in which the Eucharist is transformative. Radcliffe says that “the Eucharist works in our lives in ways that are profound but often barely noticeable and hardly register as experiences at all” (p. 6). This is the meaning of the Mass, and this is a direct counter to modern sensibilities. We inhabit an age in which we are consumers. We buy what we want. We do what we want to do, and we opt out of what we don’t want to do. Obligations and honoring commitments are shallow. But the Mass doesn’t work through immediate gratification. The Mass works on our lives and hearts in ways that are rarely perceptible in the moment. Of course, we may delight in the music or feel a sense of peace in a church building (and I hope you do!), but our reason for being at Mass is not because “we feel like it” or because we think our prayer will be instantly answered or that we’ll even feel changed after Mass. Our reason for being there is because it’s the most natural and appropriate response of our lives to the infinitely loving and creative act of the God who made us and continues to give us life.

Fr. Radcliffe suggests that at the most unexpected moments and in the most subtle ways, the Mass will work on our lives. By faithful attendance, and particularly in those moments when we’d prefer to sleep in on a Sunday, the healing power of the Eucharist rubs away our rough edges and shapes us into the people God is calling us to be. While God is always present with us and while we encounter God in a myriad of places, there’s no place like the Eucharist for us to be molded more and more into the likeness of God. There we are accountable to one another and to God. In the pews, we’re not let off the hook for bad behavior. At the Communion rail, we learn to relinquish control and receive God’s sublime gifts of the Body and Blood of Christ. Going to church is what it means to be a Christian, honoring our baptismal promises in which we said we would devote ourselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers (Acts 2:42).

So, this summer, if you’re in town, come to church. Even if you “don’t feel like it,” you will find, over time, I suspect, that being in church is a great joy. But even if it doesn’t seem so, it’s good for you. If you’re out of town traveling, go to church. Find a nearby Episcopal Church. It’s essential that we are occasionally reminded that we are not “Good Shepherd, Rosemont, Christians” but simply Christians. Worshipping in other parishes when we’re out of town reminds us of the catholicity of the Church. We are accountable to something much larger than ourselves.

Our Rector’s Warden, Don McCown, has told me of a pithy saying by our former rector Fr. Andrew Mead. He used to say, “run to Mass.” In the vein of Fr. Mead, I’d like to suggest the following. When you feel like you don’t have enough time in your day for anything, run to Mass. When you’re flustered, upset, and worried, run to Mass. When your job is eating you alive, run to Mass. When you have family or friends in town, run to Mass and take them! When you’re filled with joy and when you’re deeply sad, run to Mass. This is not cheap obligation. It’s a recognition that the Mass gives us something far greater than we can imagine. Putting the Eucharist at the center of our lives means an intentional, sometimes taxing, reprioritization of our lives.

This Sunday, I hope to see you running to Mass! Following Sung Mass, we will have a reception welcoming our new parish administrator, Renee Barrick. Run to Mass this Sunday, and then stop by the retreat house to introduce yourself to Renee and welcome her to Good Shepherd.

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle