How Do We Live as House Churches When We Live Alone?

Dear Sister, how is it a person living alone can be part of a "house church" or "domestic church"? Our parish has a lot of people who live alone. How is it they can feel part of the church when they are isolated because of COVID-19? Are you suggesting people should think of themselves as hermits?

Really good question! This problem of living alone and still being an integral part of the faith community is something hermits have had to deal with throughout the history of eremitical life. It is a constant tension in the eremitical life, and something every Christian hermit learns to live well, or cease to be a true hermit. (They might instead be a lone individual, but not a hermit.) One of the Saints associated with Camaldolese Benedictinism is Peter Damian and he wrote a really significant letter (#28) in response to a very similar question. It is sometimes called "The Lord Be With You" (Dominus Vobiscum) letter because it was occasioned by someone asking what they did with certain prayers during liturgy when they referred or were actually directed to other people. While the question was prompted by a narrowly defined situation it really leads to considerations of the validity of eremitical life, the ecclesiality of such a life, and also more general questions on the nature of being church when physical isolation is required. As you can imagine given your own questions, while Peter Damian wrote during the 11th and 12th centuries, this specific issue is quite contemporary.

Peter Damian's response is summarized in the following statement: [[(11) Truly the Church of Christ is so joined together by the bond of love that in many it is one, and in each it is mystically complete. Thus we at once observe that the whole Church is rightly called the one and only bride of Christ, and we believe each individual soul, by the mystery of baptism, to be the whole Church.]] A bit later, Damian writes, [[(13) And so we can conclude from what was said above that since the whole Church is symbolized in the person of one individual, and since, moreover, the Church is said to be a virgin, holy Church is both one in all and complete in each of them; that is to say, simple in many by reason of the unity of faith, and multiple in each through the bond of love and the various charismatic gifts, since all are from one, and all are one. . . .  (15) If they are one who believe in Christ, then wherever an individual member is physically present, there too the whole body is present, there too the whole body is present by reason of the sacramental mystery. And whatever is fitting for the whole, is in some way fitting for each part, so that it is not out of the question for an individual to say what the assembly of the Church says together, just as that which an individual properly utters may also be voiced by many without reproach.]] 

Some folks  may want to think of themselves as hermits for the time being, but since being a hermit really includes a commitment to long-term silence and solitude (and even to growing to reach fullness of humanity in and even as the silence of solitude) most will not find this fits for them. Still, what does fit universally is that each person by virtue of their baptism/Christian initiation is called to come to see themselves as Church, and to allow themselves to live from the same sources the Church lives, especially the Scriptures, liturgical (liturgy of the hours) and private prayer, and mealtimes celebrated as Eucharistic moments.

One of the dimensions of my own eremitical life I write about a lot is its ecclesial character. Because I am consecrated by God through the mediation of the Church, this partly has to do with its canonical nature and the fact that I am called and missioned by the Church to live eremitical life in her Name. Still, given the current pandemic and the fact that each and all of us are called by the Church to shelter-in-place and to be Church in enforced solitude, we must be able to see this ecclesial dimension as a call coming with our own baptism. While this does not mean folks are necessarily called to be hermits, and especially not consecrated/canonical hermits, nevertheless the call is profoundly ecclesial in its own way: if we live alone each of us is called, at this time and place, to live solitude in the name of the Church by virtue of our Lay/baptismal standing.

Every home in our parish, for instance, (and in fact, in our diocese), is called to represent the life of the Church in the fullest way possible without access to Eucharist. This is a challenge Vatican II stressed in its valuing of Lay life. The catch-phrase, "We ARE Church!" was meant to capture this sense in opposition to standard usage identifying the clergy/hierarchy as "the Church". Today, when ordained clergy have been rendered much less effective given our mandatory social-distancing and inability to come together for Mass, we are truly challenged to take on the call that Vatican II identified as integral to our baptized state and dignity as a "priestly people". It is not merely that each of us is part of the Church, though that is certainly true; it is also that each of us is called to be Church, to grow in faith, to do all that any disciple of Christ must do to come to recognize and know the Risen Christ, and allow Him to be recognized in/through us by others.

On the Road to Emmaus During a Pandemic: Finding New Old Ways of Being Church

As we approach today’s readings I think we all have a much clearer, more vivid sense of how it is a single Event can change our entire world so that there is simply no going back to what we once knew and perhaps even took for granted. We know what it is like to have our usual assumptions and expectations upended, to have everyday routines and priorities thrown into disarray, and -- at least for the time being -- --- to have been robbed of many of the things that gave our lives value and purpose including relationships, school, work, and even forms of ministry and ways of "being Church".

We know what it means to be frightened: frightened of illness, frightened of death, frightened even of life itself, frightened for ourselves, frightened for others, frightened the virus will leave us in a world without a meaningful future. At the same time we know the experience of "seeing with new eyes" what has been true and right in front of us all along: Family members we are, perhaps, only now spending quality time with and coming to know; friends who, in the midst of it all, are showing us new depths of compassion and caring; people we may take for granted or otherwise marginalize: they have become "essential" while we are sidelined; they are "heroes" to us and we marvel at their self-sacrifice, generosity, and courage.

Retelling the Story:

Today's gospel lection is meant to speak to people in precisely our predicament. I would like to retell it in a way that, I hope, will let us hear it afresh. These disciples have experienced the arrest, brutalization, and execution of a Man whom they loved, followed, and trusted in, a man whom they thought held the key to any real future. But the One they thought was God's own anointed one and their hope for a new and meaningful world, was instead determined to be a godless and godforsaken blasphemer and  political terrorist. He was executed in the most shameful way possible --- a way which underscored the lie his life must really have been --- and his last cry from the cross was one which pleaded with the God of Israel who had apparently also abandoned him. Like us, these disciples had experienced a world-shattering loss.

On the road to Emmaus we find them disoriented and fearful as they make their way home where they will shelter in place -- in hiding from the authorities who will be coming for them as well. On the way they take some comfort from the keenness  of their confusion and pain in conversation and debate --- yes, about the events in Jerusalem, but also they talk about the Jewish Scriptures and what they have taught and promised. Perhaps some of these stories, stories they have lived with and from their whole lives, can ease their grief a little and make sense of the tragedy they have just suffered.

When they meet a stranger who wonders why they are so distraught, so angry and uncertain, we can hear the edge in their response: "What!? Have you been living in a hole somewhere? Are you the only one in the entire civilized world who does not know what happened in Jerusalem?!! We were so sure he was God's. . . ; and, God forgive us, we were so wrong!! The One we thought was God's own Messiah was convicted by our own religious leaders and [shudder] crucified by the Romans. We know now therefore, he could not have been the one we hoped for. The God he supposedly "revealed" and taught us to believe in was powerless to save him; the kingdom he proclaimed, the realm of his God's putative "sovereignty", was apparently just another lie!!

A bit further along the road they continue to fill the stranger in on what he seems to have missed. We can hear their anger and their anguish: "You know, some women from our group told us Jesus was really alive (we had not seen the crucifixion ourselves), and they recounted stories of meeting angels --- Foolish Women! You know what kind of witnesses they make! When we checked out their story others from our group found only an empty tomb --- no heavenly messengers, no Jesus alive and well (or even alive and battered), not even his dead body --- just an empty tomb!! Some are saying the Romans stole the body to prevent the grave from becoming a focus for a martyr cult. Maybe it's true that the crucifixion of an apparently unbalanced Galilean peasant changed very little in the world at large --- but God help us!! Nothing at all is the same now. What are we to do??

In today's pandemic we face a similar journey and we know the road in front of us is long. There are great difficulties and uncertainties; neither are there easy or facile answers to the questions which haunt us. Nor, on the road to Emmaus, does the stranger provide facile answers to the desperate questions the disciples there both ask and are. Instead, he continues to accompany them on their journey. He is and remains with them. He listens and continues to listen as they pour out their hearts to him: bewilderment, anger, shattered hopes, fragile faith, and sorrow,  such immense sorrow -- he receives them all. And he challenges them rather sharply, in fact, to greater faith and continuing trust. Especially he reminds them of their scriptures and the way God has worked throughout their history.

Eventually,  in a shared meal they watch and listen as he takes bread, blesses and breaks it with and for them. And in that moment, they SEE! They KNOW! The God of Jesus, the God of the Christ has been victorious over death and death-dealing powers. He has made them his own and they are irretrievably changed by his presence. Everything Jesus told them was, no, IS true!! He has been vindicated by God, and even more astonishingly, he has been raised to new life --- not at the end of time or at the end of the world --- but right here and now in the midst of human history! Heaven, the word we use for God's own life shared with others, has broken in on and is remaking the old world into a New Creation. Nothing at all can separate us from God's love -- not crucifixion, not godless death, and certainly not pandemic. In light of all this, the disciples now see with new eyes and celebrate the truth they lamented just a short time before: NOTHING AT ALL will ever be the same again.

 On Our Own Road to Emmaus Today:

During this time of finding our way on a disorienting and painful journey, and especially as we find new ways to "be Church" when ordained clergy have been made relatively ineffective, this gospel story tells us one main story: we are being accompanied by the Crucified Christ even when we fail to recognize him and it is imperative that we learn to recognize and come to know him if we are to be people of genuine Hope. One of the reasons this gospel lection is critical for us this Easter especially is because it is clear he is not only to be found in Church, nor is he recognized only in the Scriptures as they are read there, nor only in the Eucharist itself. Because ours is an incarnational God who has sundered the veil between sacred and profane, and because, similarly, our faith is a sacramental one,  the One who accompanies us -- often unrecognized -- is found in the unexpected and even in what we might deem the unacceptable place. Sister Macrina Wiederkehr, OSB, who died just last Friday**, said it this way:

(We) live in a world of theophanies.

Holiness comes wrapped in the ordinary.

There are burning bushes all around (us).

We will say more about this as the weeks of Easter go on and the parish will help provide suggestions and resources, but it is in the reading of Scripture and the breaking of bread in our own homes that we will encounter and learn to recognize the Crucified and Risen Christ. Yes, as Vatican II emphasized, we ourselves are the church, a pilgrim people finding our way in a new and transitory world, a priestly people (Laos) in and through whom God is alive and mediated to that same world. Today's gospel asks that we return to that time when the larger faith community lived and worshipped in domestic and house churches.

Especially it asks that we make of these, places of prayer and that we become people who regularly pour out our hearts to the  God who receives us in every situation. It asks that we make our homes places where the Scriptures are read and reflected on so that our stories and those of our ancestors in faith become inextricable and God is allowed to pour himself out to us as we learn to receive him. And finally, it asks that we allow our homes to become places where the meals we eat are taken together joyfully, and attentively as we allow them to become something Eucharistic despite not being the Eucharist itself. After all, the Lord was with his disciples as they fled Jerusalem for home; He did not abandon or disdain the disciples at any point on the road to Emmaus. He will acompany us in the same way if we will only take the steps needed to encounter and recognize him! Amen.
________________________________________

**N.B., Sister Macrina Wiederkehr, OSB wrote 8 wonderful books on spirituality. One powerful theme was finding God in the ordinary and another was living in the present moment (as an ever-flowing grace empowers us to do). The quote above is taken from A Treeful of Angels. Macrina died on 24. April. 2020 of a brain tumor. Condolences to her Sisters at St Scholastica Monastery, Fort Smith, AR. She has left the home she loved to return to the one for which she most deeply yearned. Alleluia!