I haven’t eaten beef or pork in about 15 years, give or take. I didn’t mark the occasion, so I don’t have even a good idea of the year, but it’s definitely over half my adult life now. It’s partially for health reasons (there’s lots of cardiovascular disease in my family), partially for moral reasons (I can get by just fine without eating mammals, so I don’t have a particularly compelling reason for them to give their lives), and partially as an interesting challenge to my own complacency and desire to live deliberately (I’ve eaten a lot more interesting, delicious fish and chicken dinners than I ever did in my 20s). As a Catholic, I also don’t eat meat on all Fridays; whether I need to is actually a bit murky, but it’s a fine reminder in memory of our Lord’s sacrifice regardless.
So, I have some strange eating habits, which – in practice – really don’t affect me at all. And I definitely don’t enforce my eating customs on those I’m with. I’ll make gentle queries when I’m eating with friends to make sure that I’m living up to my own way of life as best I can, and – if anyone asks – I’ll usually explain the above. But I certainly don’t think any less of those who enjoy steak or bacon . . . and I suspect there are more American Catholics who eat meat on Fridays than those who don’t, so I’d need to muster way more disapproval than I have in me.
I was reminded of all the above as I tried to make sense of todays readings. I pored over the reading from the Letter to the Galatians a half-dozen times, trying to make sense of it. I read the rest of the chapter, and the introductory explanation at the letter’s beginning (in my New American Bible). And it all seems to be about circumcision or uncircumcision, who’s eating with whom, whether Gentiles and Jews should associate together, and . . . I’m all a bit lost.
How refreshing, then, was the Gospel selection from Luke! There, Jesus gives us what we came to know as the Lord’s Prayer: “Father, hallowed be your name, your Kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread and forgive us our sins for we ourselves forgive everyone in debt to us, and do not subject us to the final test.”
A light began to dawn on me as I reflected on that. And it continues to glow as I reread today’s Psalm, one of the shortest I’ve ever seen in a daily reading: “Go out to all the world, and tell the Good News. Praise the LORD, all you nations, glorify him, all you peoples! For steadfast is his kindness toward us, and the fidelity of the LORD endures forever.” Not counting responsorial repetition, that’s the whole thing.
When living a life of faith and deliberation, it’s easy to get bogged down in the minutia: Am I praying correctly? Do I have my hands folded the right way when I receive Holy Communion? Is it okay if I don’t understand the first reading at today’s Mass? Is my Lenten sacrifice sufficient?
Those are reasonable questions when we consider them for ourselves, but they can morph into judgment when applied to others. Look at how she’s folding her hands; is she worshipping right? Why is he eating meat on Fridays? Why didn’t they pray before their meal? Why didn’t they give more when the collection basket went around?
These trivialities can distract us from the simplicity of the faith. Jesus wants our hearts, not our slavish devotion to the law. He wants us to internalize the Lord’s Prayer, to make each syllable resonate in our hearts. He wants us to go out to all the world and tell the Good News.
Our Church actually gives us a lot of options in how we get closer to God. Daily Mass isn’t a requirement for our faith, but some people find it invaluable. We can pray for the intervention of saints, or we can appeal to God directly. We can go to Confession once a week, or once a year. We can sing at church, serve as greeters, work on the church bulletin, or be part of adoration. If you get closer to Christ by reading the Bible, great! If fasting, devotionals, or going door to door is helpful to your faith, the Church is probably okay with it. Obviously there are baselines in our beliefs, communal things we need to do, and certain aspects we should ensure we teach, but beyond that, there is a great deal of variety in how our paths can look. As an obvious example, look at the diversity of the lives of the saints!
So, we should take advantage of whatever options the Church offers that speak to us. We should live with such integrity and contentment in our lives with Christ that those around us can’t help but notice, and maybe they’ll even ask us what we’re doing and why . . . and that’s when we can spread the Good News. Your Kingdom come, Your will be done. It seems a much more peaceful path to me than trying to figure out if other would-be Christians are eating, acting, or associating in exactly the right way.
