Recently I had an experience that highlighted some of the tensions in our beloved Catholic Church. On one Friday evening, our parish had scheduled an hour of Eucharistic Adoration followed directly by an annual Mass to Relieve Hunger.
The hour of Adoration went a bit over time, and as the time for the Hunger Mass approached, two different groups of people starting crossing paths in the sanctuary. The people who had participated in Adoration were still on their knees while people started arriving for the mass and bringing their bags of food up to the altar. The musicians for the Hunger Mass started setting up their sound equipment as quietly as they could, but then several members of the choir, believing Adoration was over, started crossing the altar to the choir area before they realized that the deacon was still in the process of replacing the Eucharist in the Tabernacle. Once adoration was over, a woman wearing a lace mantilla came over to the red-faced choir and berated them for “displeasing God.”
Perhaps the whole incident could be attributed to awkward scheduling, but it also felt like a culture clash. It reminded me of something a parish priest said to me a few years ago: “I’ve noticed that whenever I hold a prayer activity certain people always show up and whenever I hold a service activity certain people always show up—and they are not the same people.” On that Friday evening in my church, I wondered if the adoration people considered the hunger mass people irreverent, and if the hunger mass people considered the adoration people irrelevant.
I was left wondering whether it is possible for us to love each other a little bit more and to give each other the benefit of the doubt. Each of us is on his or her own journey, learning day by day how much God loves us and how to love Him, whether we are on our knees before the Eucharist or filling bags of food for the poor. St. Francis did both, giving us an inspiring example of a life combining prayer and service. As we look on our fellow Catholics, let us remember Francis’ humble, nonjudgmental words at the end of his life: “I have done what was mine to do; may God show you what is yours.