How to Change A Church

Yesterday I sat on the steps of Harvard Divinity School with Tim, a learned, enthusiastic lawyer who has returned to grad school to study church history.   Guided by Tim’s astoundingly well-rounded studies, our conversation weaved in and out of a number of topics, including our faith lives and religious traditions–he, a practicing Mormon, and I, a practicing Catholic.

In an effort to gain insight into my personal convictions, I think, Tim asked me an interesting question: “If you were instantly declared Pope, what would you change about the Catholic Church today?” I laughed along with Paul, another lawyer and fellow Catholic student at HDS who had joined in our conversation. What a question…

My response sort of surprised me.  Had Tim asked me what kinds of reform I would like to see in the Church, I would have confidently recited the well thought-out list. But that is not what he asked.  ”I couldn’t possibly initiate all the changes I’d like to see,” I told him. “And, honestly, I probably couldn’t initiate even one of them right away if I was magically elected Pope.”  I was being absolutely honest, and it was hard to admit this to Tim, and to myself.  

Do I have patience, even for this?

“When I lead retreats, a bell sounds to indicate our transition from one part of the day to the next. The bell sounds, and immediately we shift mental gears, moving from meditation to preparations for mealtime.  What will lunch be today? Where will I sit? The bell rings, and we shift from walking meditation to preparations for a sitting meditation. Where did I leave my seat cushion? Will my aching back be a distraction during this sit? So much of life is like this–we are so quick to escape the present moment with anticipation and anxiety about what’s coming next.”

On Tuesday evening I joined my cousin for a meditation class facilitated by the Seattle Insight Meditation Society.  The class commences with a 45 minute meditation sit, followed by a lesson by one of the society’s Meditation teachers. That night, the talk focused on patience, one of the ten paramis, or “qualities of character that can be developed to support the path of awakening,” in the Buddhist tradition practiced by the group.  The teacher used this illustration about the bell on his retreats to demonstrate how much impatience we often have for the present moment.  Mainstream perceptions of life have taught us that the present is to dismissed for what ever is next.  We so hastily move from one thing to the next.

The teacher said that he has begun to ask his students to pause when they hear this transition bell at the retreat. It is an exercise in patience.  Rather than eagerly fleeing the moment, they exercise attention to the present by remaining where they are while the impending transition awaits its proper time.  The teacher said this intentional pause between one thing and the next is incredibly difficult for the retreatants.

This does not surprise me, for the bell has rung and I also struggle to pause in the present as I await the major impending transition in my life.  

Dear Karl Rahner,

Dear Karl Rahner,

I realize that you are not a saint, and I’m not really sure how this whole “asking-for-intercessions-from-people-who-aren’t-saints” thing works in the Catholic tradition. But I’m asking, and I’m asking you for intercessions because you are a major contributing factor to my current situation: I started a summer of intensive German language study this morning, a course I am taking with aspirations of one day reading theological texts like yours in their original language. In other words, I’m taking this class so I can master your texts and spread your ideas to the masses, so I figure the least you could do is say a few prayers for me. Fair enough?

I’ve studied a few languages, but starting this German class is scary nonetheless. The intimidation partially stems from the fact that I have not been a student for a year now. As I reflected on my undergraduate studies during this year free of anxious tests and homework deadlines, I have often wondered, “how did I live like that?!” So little sleep. Stress and nerves. An undue amount of self-inflicted pressure to perform. A never ending checklist.

I like to think that this stress-free year has changed me as a person. I hope it has rid me of some of my up-tight tendencies, helped me put things in perspective, made me more patient with myself, more well-rounded. But when I flipped through my textbook last night, my eyes skimming those really really long German words, I became anxious: Can I do this? Will I have enough time to study? Will my hobbies and friends and work and other commitments interfere with all that work I will have to do to succeed in this class?

I tried to talk myself out of all this worrying, Karl. I told myself I was slipping back into all those unhelpful habits that accompanied me during the low-points of college. The very habits that I have tried to leave behind as I enter this new phase of study. I am trying to give myself grace. I am trying to take it one day at a time. I am trying to comfort myself by remembering that new modes of operation take time to develop. I’m trying.

So if you have some prayers, Rahner, I’d appreciate it. If all goes well we will be conversing in your native tongue in a couple short months.

Jessica