“The walls you build on earth do not reach to heaven.” So said Mother Mary to her listeners in Medjugorje when they inquired about the myriad divisions of the Christian faith.
No matter what your opinion may be about the reported appearances of Mary around the world, we surely have to admit this response reveals both the wisdom characteristic of her Son, and the open-ended possibility for further development of unity among all Jesus’ brothers and sisters here on earth.
We’re all familiar with both the historical and current denials of Christian unity: the ugly facts of the Crusades, the Inquisition and, more recently, the bloody conflicts between Irish Catholics and Protestants.
But the Spirit of God has been weaving the filaments of love for God and true unity into the fabric of the Church’s life down through the centuries.
At the last supper, Jesus’ prayer with his disciples was that they should be one in the same way that He and his Father were one, so that the world might believe He had been sent by God. Would the Father not be moving to answer his own Son’s final, impassioned prayer? Would this prayer be ineffective after all?
One outstanding example of the Church’s effort for Christian unity is the work of Taizé, the ecumenical community started around the outset of World War II in a small French village just outside German-occupied France.
Roger Schutz-Marsauche, the son of a Swiss Protestant minister, throughout a prolonged period of tuberculosis and extended convalescence, conceived the idea of an ecumenical community as a “sign of unity in the Church and in the human family.”
At age 25, he felt God calling him to minister to desperate refugees fleeing the war, and also to help Jews escaping impending Nazi imprisonment. He bought an old, abandoned house and, through farming, pottery-making and various activities, began to make a living for himself, and also to shelter refugees.
Gradually, other young men of varying Christian orientations began to join him. This eventually led to the founding of an ecumenical community now composed of 80-100 celibate brothers from around 30 different countries, all making lifelong commitments to live out their days as a tangible sign of unity among Christ’s followers.
The stretching adjustments, difficult tensions and deep sacrifices that are integral to such a living situation has certainly borne fruit: tens of thousands of visitors, predominately young people, have come to Taizé from all parts of the world searching for something, or Someone, loving, yet solid, around whom they can build their lives. They participate in the day-to-day life of the community — prayer, meditation, scripture reflection, labor and fellowship.
The formation of such a Christian multidenominational community that has endured since 1940 — 86 years — is unprecedented in history.
Now we read of Catholic nuns and priests laboring side by side with various humanitarian faith groups worldwide.
Along the U.S.-Mexican border, the American Bible Society and Catholic nuns work together to heal the shattered lives of victims of sex trafficking. These examples, and many others, are the results of the Spirit’s drawing together the strands of interfaith dialog and Christian cooperation for the broader good promoted by the Second Vatican Counsel and various Protestant groups, especially throughout the last half century.
Closer to home, in 2003, three church communities initiated the formation of the Pagosa Outreach Community to offer a onetime hand-up for local people; they assist with rent, mortgages, car repairs, utilities, etc. to enable those in financial crisis not to drop even further into fiscal ruin. And, more recently, another ecumenical group, Friends and Neighbors in Need, was formed to help the working poor, local families, even visitors with basic needs: food, gasoline, lodging, etc.
In the end, one of the most poignant demonstrations of Christian unity was in the WWII martyrdom of Dietrich Bonhoffer, a Lutheran pastor, and Maximilian Kolbe, a Catholic priest. Each gave his life to save others: Bonhoffer was hanged for his complicity in a plot to kill Hitler, and Kolbe accepted starvation in place of one of his prison mates. A Lutheran and a Catholic — often arch opposers, but each willing to give the ultimate sacrifice for the love of Christ and his people.
So, let us dance and serve together, along city streets and country lanes as we wait for Mary’s deep knowing to flood across all earth and sky.
This column may include both fiction and nonfiction, and views expressed do not necessarily represent those of The SUN. Submissions can be sent to editor@pagosasun.com.
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