Like most of you, I am sure, I have been a part of numerous churches. As well as several synagogues, since I met Elise. And they each have their memories. My first parish was Our Lady of Mt. Carmel in Jersey City, New Jersey. I went to school at the Catholic school associated with the church, I received my sacraments of initiation there, and I served as an altar boy at OLMC. But the memory I recall the most is standing in a pew near the front of the church, in full view of our priest, and bringing up that morning’s breakfast on the pew in front of me. No, there was no parishioner present to receive my “gift”.
There was Queen of Peace parish in North Arlington, New Jersey where I went to mass with my cousins and, more importantly, my first girlfriend. Midnight mass with your first love. Magical place. Then there was St. John’s on the campus of the University of Illinois in Champaign, Illinois. It was here that I came back to the faith after dabbling a bit in an evangelical church. It was also here where I saw my first “throng” of Catholics. Five O’clock mass on Sunday is where I sang with the choir to a church packed with about 2,000 students singing and worshipping. It showed me with the Catholic faith could be.
St. Michael’s Church in Canton, Pa was our parish after graduating veterinary school and getting our first jobs. It was here that our first daughter, Danielle, was baptized and it is here that we have returned to after moving back to Pennsylvania. The circle of faith life, I guess.
And it has been Corpus Christi Parish in Carol Stream, Illinois where we have had the longest time being part of a faith community. 35 years and 3 pastors later we still are members along with being a part of St. Michael’s. No way we could completely walk away from a parish that baptized our youngest, administered the sacraments to both of them. Rededicated our marriage. And nurtured our faith to the point of being able to share it with others.
Today the Church celebrates the Basilica of St. John Lateran in Rome. The Pope’s Church. The Cathedral of Rome. And one of the 4 great churches in Rome (along with St. Peters, St. Mary Major and St. Paul Outside the Walls). St. John Lateran is the oldest of the Papal Basilica Churches, built in the 4th Century by Emperor Constantine. It is most definitely one of, if not THE, most important churches in Catholicism. It is also very beautiful. But here is the thing…it holds no more special place in the lives of Catholics then does each parish church we attend or have attended.
In today’s first reading, the prophet Ezekiel gives us an image of the temple in Jerusalem with water flowing out from the altar in all directions but particularly the stream flowing out to the east. Towards the Arabah. The desert between Jerusalem and the Dead Sea. The Dead Sea is exactly as it name suggests. Dead. So high a salt content that nothing can live in it. A person cannot swim in this sea with any cuts or inflammation anywhere on their bodies due to the “rubbing salt in your wounds” effect….Ask me how I know….But the image Ezekiel paints is ever deepening fresh water flowing into the desert, the Dead Sea and beyond. Diluting out the salt and giving life to its banks. Flowers, fruit trees and life for those who live near its waters.
Of course the image of the waters flowing out is a symbol of God’s grace that gives us life. But I would contend that those flowing waters can also be each of us. Flowing out from our own churches. Our own parishes. Whether it is a church in small town Pennsylvania or the large church in a college town brimming with students hungering for God’s word. The grace and mercy of God is ever present in our parishes in the form of the priests, deacons, those in the various ministries and its congregants. These are what give each of us life in Christ and give us the gifts to take God’s word out in to the world. We are the flowing waters that gives life to those that we touch each day.
In fact, today’s second reading from 1 Corinthians has St. Paul telling each of us that we are God’s building. His work laid the foundation and the countless churches we have belonged to have built on this foundation. And that foundation is not gold, silver, statues, choirs, or large numbers of attendees. It is a foundation that is Christ. It doesn’t matter the size of the church, the number of congregants, how good the homilies or the music is. What’s most important is a church built on the truth of Christ. Everything and everyone flows from there.
And in today’s Gospel from John, we hear the familiar story of Jesus using a whip to drive the money changers out of the temple area. Out of His Father’s house. Jesus did not stop and consider if he should risk losing people from the congregation because of Him saying some controversial, but true, things. He made it clear that His church would be built on the truth of the Kingdom. Of God’s truths and there was no place for those who would not follow His word. Remember, the door to the Kingdom is a narrow one.
So remember the foundation laid by Paul and the construction built on that foundation by each of the parishes you have been a member of throughout your life. Regardless of the size and beauty of that building, each and every one has a tabernacle that houses the one true God that is sending you out like water into the Arabah. As a matter of fact, I think it was this water that the sacristan used to cleanse the pew in front of me at OLMC all those years ago.
