GIVING IT ALL WE HAVE

Which of you, wishing to construct a tower, does not first sit down and calculate the cost to see if there is enough for its completion? Otherwise, after laying the foundation and finding himself unable to finish the work, the onlookers should laugh at him and say, ‘This one began to build but did not have the resources to finish.’ Or what king marching into battle would not first sit down and decide whether with ten thousand troops he can successfully oppose another king advancing upon him with twenty thousand troops? But if not, while he is still far away, he will send a delegation to ask for peace terms. In the same way, every one of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple.

Lk.14, 28-33

Two truths have to be kept firmly in mind as we in the laity strive to contend with the crisis of church closings: 1) We truly are involved in a struggle against organized forces whose aims are markedly different than our own, and 2) We really are on the ‘right’ side to this struggle. When I talk about a right side, I mean to dispute the modern and cynical notion that any determination of a ‘good result’ in a conflict depends entirely upon the point of view from which that conflict is examined. A cynic would respond to my claim that it would be good for the laity to wrest some measure of control from a too-powerful Church hierarchy by stating that what is good for the laity is bad for the episcopacy. From the point of view of the chancery, according to a modern assessment of conflict, it would be good for the bishops to acquire even more control than they now have over Church affairs. There is, according to the cynic, no objectively good result.

The cynic is wrong. It would be objectively good for the laity to win this struggle. For one thing, there are other perspectives besides those of the bishop and the laywoman (or layman). There is the perspective of the archdiocese or the Church in its entirety; there is the perspective of the parish priest, caught between the two camps; there is the perspective of posterity; there is even the perspective of spiritual health for those people currently in authority who are actively feeding their addiction to power and control. What these individuals least want is what they most need. What they’re striving to prevent is the very thing that might save them.

At this very moment, the archbishop and his assistants are working to close my parish, Sacred Heart Parish in Lexington. Their efforts are being resisted by hundreds of parishioners, including myself. It’s a battle, and like any battle, there will be a result to this battle. The result will either be good, or it will be bad. If the parish is closed it will be bad – bad for me, bad for my fellow parishioners, bad for the archdiocese and bad for the future of the Church.

At this very moment, the battle over the future of Sacred Heart is being mirrored by battles fought over the futures of dozens of vibrant parishes throughout Greater Boston. At this very moment, these battles are being fought inside the minds and hearts of men caught in the crossfire – the pastors of vibrant parishes who’ve guided their congregations well. They’re conflicted because they’re entirely dependant on religious superiors who are making them undo the good work they’ve done.

All of these battles are part of a bigger war between those who support the Vatican II reforms which were implemented in order to allow the Church to survive into its third millennium and the reactionaries whose ideas about the relationship between Church administrators and the faithful they serve were repudiated by the Council forty years ago. Who’s going to win that war? One side will win, one side will lose, and the result will either be good or it will be bad. It will be bad if the reactionaries win.

One single battle won’t entirely determine the outcome of the war, but the course of every battle will contribute to the eventual result of the war. The battle to save Sacred Heart is worth fighting; but more than that, it’s worth winning. We’ve started the struggle, but are we going to end up like the general in Jesus’ illustration who has to sue for peace? Are we going to be like the builder who becomes a laughingstock to those around him; or, rather, are we going to succeed in our efforts so that later on we’ll be studied as an example of the right way to advance God’s kingdom?

We won’t win if we forget we’re in a battle. We won’t win if we don’t calculate the cost ahead of time. We won’t win if we don’t give it everything we’ve got. Jesus talked about “renouncing possessions” and that’s not merely hyperbole. We’re going to have to be willing to dig deep into our pockets if we want Sacred Heart to survive.

So far, we’ve been fighting our battle on a lot of fronts. We’ve written letters to the archbishop, we’ve contacted the media, we’ve studied cannon law, we’ve held prayer vigils, we’ve attended meetings, and we’ve planted signs on our lawns. All of that is good, but none of it will be good enough. We’ve got to put our money where our mouths are. Our adversaries in Brighton will wear us down simply by assuring us that they won’t deviate from their plan to close us. The only way to return their volley is to be certain that NOTHING THEY DO will alter our plan to stay open.

How can this happen? We have to assure ourselves, each other, and the chancery that we’re in it for the long haul. They say they have the power to suppress our parish but that’s an overstatement. What they have the power to do is limited to two things – they can deny us access to the property of the archdiocese and they can refuse to assign us a pastor. Those obstacles aren’t insurmountable to us if we’re willing to pay to overcome them. The gang on Commonwealth Avenue has challenged us to a game of high stakes poker. We know we’ve been dealt a good hand. Our good hand is our faith in God, our love for each other, and our conviction that our cause is right. We can win with the hand we’ve been dealt. We can continue as a faith community and be a beacon of hope to those who want the Church to be healed of its wounds. We can do God’s work, but we have to ante up.

While we’re doing everything else we’re doing, we have to start organizing liturgies after the fashion of a lay community. We have to do our own ‘heavy lifting’ and get used to the idea of getting by without the pastor that the archdiocese can withhold from us. We have to pass the basket at these liturgies and donate even more money than we’re used to donating. We have to ready ourselves for the day when we’re paying for our own worship space and employing our own staff. It’s going to cost more than it used to cost because we’re going to have to get by without support from Brighton. We’re going to have to find a way to welcome visiting priests, but these priests aren’t going to do our work for us. We’re going to have to do what our pastor used to do. We’re going to have to hire laywomen and laymen to fill the roles of a liturgical director, and a pastoral director, a financial administrator and so forth. It will be confusing and it will be tiring. It will also be exhilarating and faith-affirming. It will cost money, but it will be worth it.

Once we ‘calculate the cost’, once we know what needs to be done and we’ve assured ourselves that we’re ready to do it, we’re going to be a force to be reckoned with. Once the archbishop knows he can’t close us, he’ll be the one who’s backing down. He’ll be the one suing for peace. He’ll be the one scrambling to save face. That will be OK. That’s when we can afford to be generous. That’s when we can render to the archbishop the things that are the archbishop’s. That’s when we can say, “Pay your debts, we’ll be fine.” That’s when the battle will be over and the right side will have won.

Paul Bradford

July 10, 2004