The human touch

“Hey!”

I looked up past the bananas to the voice that hailed me at the deli counter. His smile was wide and he approached me as though we were old friends. I did a speed memory tracker. Did I know him? Where did we meet? My left brain had a mini-war with my right brain. The right won.  I greeted the young man as though we were old friends.

“Hello!” The deli counter staff tried to avert their eyes but could not resist listening. Our apparent differences intrigued them. Why would a guy wearing a bandana and a leather jacket talk to a woman wearing pearls?

The young man saw that I needed help to remember.

“You were the volunteer who said hello to me and touched my hand when I was on a stretcher in the emergency room. Remember? I was in a car accident and in a neck brace and waiting to see a doctor. You stopped to talk to me.”

My left brain jogged through the myriad patients that I meet in similar situations. Somewhere, the memory of my encounter with this fellow pushed its way to the forefront.  The young man had reached for my hand. He had been afraid. I had only stopped for a moment to speak with him on my way to care for several other patients who were waiting for assistance. Our encounter was very brief; I would estimate under a minute. So I was astounded that he recognized me at all. But he knew me immediately because  I had touched his hand. I had wished him well. And there he was, standing at the deli counter, remembering me and greeting me like an old friend.

In between his deli order, we caught up on his health. He was well and thanked me for asking and thanked me again for my work. “You’re really good at what you do,” he called out as I pushed my cart to continue my pilgrimage through the grocery aisles. “Keep it up.” He grinned and went back to the deli counter, a sacred meeting ground standing over the cole slaw and sliced cheese. 

Several days ago, a young waitress had waited for several weeks for me to walk into one my favorite local bistros for a bite to eat (and drink) after work.  She pushed her way through the crowd at the bar to reach me.

“I’ve been waiting for two weeks for you to come in!” she said as she hugged me. I was stunned.

“You were? Really?  Why?” Again, some faint recognition stirred in the caboose of my memory but I couldn’t for the life of me put it together.

“You brought my husband blankets and pillows when he was in the emergency room,” she said. “We were so grateful for your kindness. It made all the difference in the world. I’ve been waiting to say thank you and so glad that you came in tonight. Thank you so much for your kindness." 

Last week, a woman trekked in through sleet to bring me a gift for giving her ice chips and frequently checking in on her long stay as she was evaluated and treated. The woman was still sick but needed me to know that she found my continued presence in my rounding throughout the day a great consolation. 

On the same day, another man and his little son brought me a rose because I seen to the comfort of his wife when she was ill in the emergency department and provided their four year old son with something to eat and coloring books while the mom was being seen. Father and son returned several hours later to find me in the emergency department. The little boy handed me a single rose in a vase with a note: “Thank you for your kindness.” (The really crazy thing was that I had prayed to St. Therese of Lisieux on behalf of a close friend experience critical illness and asked if the Little Flower could provide me with a tiny spot of hope on his behalf. A few hours later, this little tike turned up with a rose. Okay. I’ve got it. Heaven’s with me.)

The human touch

Why do people migrate to Pope Francis? What was it about Mother Teresa that drew worldwide attention? What is everyone looking for and finds when they see it, locate it, touch it and respond to it in someone that moves them?  What is it that draws people in?  

Jesus provides the model to that question in today’s Gospel of John 13: 1-15. “You call me teacher and master and rightly so, for indeed I am. If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another’s feet. I have given you a model to follow, so that as I have done for you, you should also do.”

What does that mean?

Be fully human. Be kind. Smile. Anticipate what people may need and meet those needs before they ask. Bend down to lift others up, even if the encounter lasts for a ephemeral moment of time. Touch people physically, even when they’re ugly, dirty, desperate, scary, sad and desperate. Practice compassion without judgment, even though some people’s actions may test your patience to the last molecule of your being. That’s the dangerous call of the Gospel – to set everything else aside and take care of one another.

Jesus warns Peter – “Unless I wash you, you can have no share in me.” Then Jesus gives us the example of a lifetime and tells us that we should do for one another what he has done for us. Take care of one another. Build the reign of God here, now, in this time and place. “This is my command: that you love one another as I have loved you.”

People migrate toward something good. That’s what Christian discipleship is about - something so good, something so remarkable, something so joyful that people recognize it even when they can't put their proverbial finger on what or who that someone is or what that person does that changes them. St. Francis of Assisi got it right: "Preach the Gospel. Use words when necessary."

As I write this, an ambulance races by carrying someone vulnerable who needs the human touch. Christ in the world. 

Holy Thursday blessings. 

Hello, Church

A Catholic blogger recently posted about his disappointment in the lack of welcome and hospitality while he searches for a new parish to pitch his permanent tent in a faith community that resonates with him. I understand his journey. When I was writing A View from the Pew several years ago, I encountered a variety of ministries of hospitality or lack thereof. In my opinion, the ministry of hospitality belongs not only to particular ministry. Hospitality and welcome belong to the entire Church and rooted in sacred scripture. (...we must have our wits about us and have a determined focus on prayer, love, and hospitality. 1 Peter 4:7-11).

A well trained ministry of hospitality as the Church gathers to pray models Christian koinonia for its parish community and for anyone who has the courage to step through the doors of a parish church on a Sunday morning.

Phantom strangers

The ministers of hospitality may be the people we take the most for granted and prepare the least in lay ecclesial ministry. Yet, these people greet everyone, including newcomers at the door of the church. Often times, ministers of hospitality may be the first people we meet when and where we worship. Far more than the folks who hand out the worship aids, well trained ministers of hospitality convey the personality of a particular parish. How does your parish want to be known and remembered by the stranger? To the person who finds the guts to return after being away for many years? To someone seeking a faith life and decides to give Catholicism a try? How do you greet and receive them? Or are they phantom strangers that slip in and out and escape your notice?

Smile, greet, listen, anticipate, serve

A warm smile and a friendly greeting create a welcoming environment.  Well trained ministers of hospitality anticipate needs as they survey the landscape and search for available seating for families, single participants, the elderly, the newcomer, people with special needs. They listen well to anyone who may ask a question and well informed about the liturgy and their parish so that they can offer proper assistance.

A well trained ministry of hospitality models an exceptional experience the minute someone steps into a worship space. I’ve even seen ministers of hospitality who are so on their game that they make sure that the sidewalks leading up to the church doors are cleared of any litter and debris before they greet the first person who arrives for worship. The model permeates the worshipping community that takes its lead from this service of hospitality to generate a gracious welcome.

A well trained ministry of hospitality sets the bar high so that all members of the community become watchful for the stranger in its midst and provide assistance, including helping to guide returning Catholics or uninitiated Christians through worship that they might find new or unfamiliar. Hospitality and welcome is the work of the entire assembly; a healthy foundation may be found in a robust ministry of hospitality.

Begin now

Holy Week begins next Sunday and Triduum is upon us. Think of the guests who will enter your church to accompany their loved ones who will be initiated as Catholic Christians at the Easter Vigil. Consider all of those Catholics who come to worship only on Christmas, Ash Wednesday, Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday and never feel as though they quite ‘fit in’ with the people who worship faithfully. How will your receive them? Will they leave as phantoms? Or will you seek them out and invite faithful members of the assembly to step up and seek them out? What a perfect time to begin a new ministry of hospitality.

Yes, yes, I know – you have a lot to do between now and then and you just cannot possibly add one more thing to your plate. Hello, Church: What’s more important than welcoming people into the fold if they’ve been away for a long time? Home from college for Easter break? A newcomer looking for a home? People who may not have considered a faith life and there’s just something so welcoming about your parish that they might just decide to return? Here’s an opportunity to welcome the stranger among us. There’s no time like the present.

Here are great resources to shape a vibrant Ministry of Hospitality in your parish.

- Guide for Ushers and Greeters, Lawrence E. Mick (Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 1997).

- Liturgical Ministry: A Practical Guide to Spirituality, Donna M. Cole (San Jose: Resource Publications, Inc, 1996).

- The Ministry of Hospitality, James A. Comiskey (Collegeville: The Liturgical Press, 1985)

If you need help, we'll come to your parish and help you get started. Email us at roncallicenter@gmail.com or contact us through this website. We're here for you.  

Now have a good day

In England, today is Shrove Tuesday, derived from Shrovetide and "Shrive", a very old word that means having your sins forgiven. Some folks call today Carnival. From Butter Week (Russia) to Doughnut Day, Pancake (or crepes) Day to Ash Eve (Ireland) to Mardi Gras, also known as Fat Tuesday (French), the day before Lent connects Christians to our ancestors and ancient practices as we indulge in a bit of guilty pleasure before the disciplines of Lent begin. Tomorrow, our eyes turn to prayer, fasting and almsgiving that unite us in solidarity with the poor, ask for pardon for injustices great and small and walk together for 40 days and nights until we reach our destination - the celebration of the Paschal Triduum. 

Our Christian ancestors were way ahead of our current practice of eating veggan, a very 'now' trend. For ancient Christians and practices that lasted a thousand years, this was a way of life during Lent, to cleanse their bodies and their souls by eating lean - a physical cleansing for a fresh start during the season of Easter, springtime, a new beginning.

The days before Lent began meant using up all of the products that Christians would refrain from eating during Lent. Butter, cheese, meat, eggs -- everything derived from animals was used up before Ash Wednesday and particularly on the day before Lent. A carnival or festival took place in cities and towns. Christians literally ate, drank and made merry. And that custom still exists today. But does their rigour of Lent still exist as a way of life for us as it did for them? 

Today is a day of anticipation, of feasting and not fasting, of merry making and enjoying the gifts of life that God has given to us as blessings. So enjoy yourself today and have a good day. Tomorrow will come soon enough. 

Now have a good day, now have a good day.

I am Shrovetide, and now I go my way. 

But oftentimes I have heard say 

That one is loath to part away

That often biddeth "have a good day,"

Now have a good day. 

I take my leave of king and knight,

And earl, baron, and lady bright,

To wilderness I must be dight,

    Now have a good day.

And from teh good lord of this hall, 

I take my leave, and of guestes all:

Methinks I hear Lent doth call, 

   Now have a good day. 

Anonymous, Sixteenth century

Gel in or gel out? Questioning the new 'ritual' cleansing at Communion

Hand washing by ordinary and extraordinary ministers of Communion was instituted in 2009 with the worldwide outbreak of Swine Flu. Gelling up prior to the distribution of Eucharist served as a precaution to spreading the epidemic of a very serious virus that was a descendent to the pandemic influenza virus of 1918 that affected 500 million people across the world and responsible for the death of 50-100 million, (often healthy young adults), which equaled 3-5% percent of the entire world population. The 1918 epidemic lasted for two years.

When Swine Flu reared its ugly head in 2009, public health agencies became nervous that this strain of influenza would once again take a toll in a really big way on the internationally community. As a result, a push on hand washing was adopted as a safety measure  by public health agencies and adopted by many institutions on behalf of safeguarding people. The Catholic Church was no exception and instituted the practice of hand washing before the distribution of Communion.

communion wafer dispenserFive years later, the practice of "gelling up" by the extraordinary ministers of Communion appears to have become a ritual exercise as part of the Fraction Rite. In a recent on-line conversation with liturgical leaders, one shared that he was asked by a member of the worshipping community to sanitize his hands after he shares the Sign of Peace to avoid the spread of germs that might come from the altar. Another has experienced Communion ministers standing around the altar with their hands "raised in a communal slathering gesture," and listened as some communicants shared that the scent of the gel liquid that remains on communion ministers' hand smells unpleasant and may even taste unpleasant if that scent leaks on the altar bread. (For people undergoing particular medical treatments, this can actually make them sick because of their heightened sensitivities.)

One of the most extreme "cautionary" measures can be seen on a YouTube about Purity Communion Solutions.  A dispenser completely eliminates human contact with consecrated bread. The video shows a Communion minister clicking the handle into the recipient's hand. No touch, no germs, no risk of disease. A Communion minister adjacently holds a tray with mini-cups that contain pre-dispensed individual portions of the Precious Blood. No danger of human contact there. Step right up and help yourselves, folks. We deliver Jesus, not germs. 

A health care provider's perspective

"Gel in and gel out" is a common phrase among health care providers who care for the sick. All clinicians and staff who come in contact with patients are trained to wash their hands as they enter the presence of a patient and leave a patient within the patients' visible eyeshot. Patients are even encouraged to remind their health care providers to wash their hands if a clinician should happen to forget to gel in. 

"We care about you and take reasonable approaches to prevent the spread of infection," one health provider told me. "The Center for Disease Control and Infection provides guidelines, education strategies and a myriad of resources that assist health care providers insure the public's safety. Hand hygiene reduces the risk of infection and disease. During the flu season, which lasts from October 1 through March 31, care givers are mandated to either get a flu shot or wear a face mask for reasons of patient safety and the prevention of infectious disease." 

Liturgy is not meant to be safe

As much as I appreciate and agree with the rationale behind hand washing and the reasonable expectations of the CDC and the people who care for the sick, liturgy is not meant to be safe. Liturgy is dangerous. Liturgy is demanding. The very act of sharing Eucharist is an act of faith, not only in spiritual practice but as bodily persons who give ourselves entirely over in trust and surrender to the Paschal Mystery. When we blithely invoke the Holy in sacramental worship, do we really believe in the power of grace that protects, heals and strengthens? Or are we just pretending to believe and gelling in and worse, gelling out to lead sterile, conditioned and comfortable, safe lives? Adding sterilization rituals to its liturgical form diminishes the very nature of what the celebration of Eucharist requires of us as disciples of Jesus Christ.

A perfect time 

Flu and cold season will officially end during the season of Lent. What a perfect time for leaders of worship to restore the original Fraction Rite without a gel ritual in practical and at the same time thought-provoking ways. This paragraph from Constitution of the Sacred Liturgy provides the basis of such catechesis:

"It is very much the wish of the church that all the faithful should be led to take that full, conscious, and active part in liturgical celebrations which is demanded by the very nature of the liturgy, and which the Christ people, 'a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a redeemed people' (1Peter 2: 9, 4-5) have a right and to which they are bound by reason of their Baptism. SC #14

All the elements are right there. Our ancestors in faith (who probably did not use cleansing gel) fully, actively and consciously accompanied the elect throughout their process of Christian initiation to the font and beyond. We continue their practice of praying, fasting and giving alms throughout the season of Lent. Perhaps a parish bulletin that reads, "What are you giving up for Lent?" could read, "Let's give up gel for Lent," and plunge a parish into a counter-cultural understanding of the real challenge that confronts us when we celebrate the Eucharist. 

Believe it or not

Let's face it: germs exist. No one likes to be sick and no one wants to see anyone become sick. But believe or not, common sense is not so common. What we sometimes presume people know, they have no idea. So educate them. Here are a few helpful suggestions.

1. People transmit more airborne germs just by being surrounded by bodies of worship. Remind people that sneezing and coughing in a closed space like a church will transmit germs. Ask folks to sneeze and cough into their elbows instead of their hands. 

2. Invite people to refrain from physical contact at the Sign of Peace if they are sick. Handshakes (and beyond) at the Sign of Peace are far more likely to pass seasonal viruses than the distribution of Communion sans gel. 

3. Ask people to abstain from receiving Eucharist on their tongue and abstain from sharing the communal cup that contains the Precious Blood when they're sick. 

3. Stay home when you're sick. The only way to recover from a cold or virus is to drink plenty of fluids, stay in bed and rest. Tell people to stay home from Sunday worship if they're sick. That's when a ministry to the sick can kick in. If you're fortunate enough to have a parish nurse team, ask health care providers to check on missing members from Sunday worship, especially the elderly. Bring the Eucharist to the homebound. Deliver soup and foodstuffs from the ministry of hospitality. This is the way to be Church. 

4. Ask communion ministers (both ordinary and extraordinary) to refrain from distributing the Eucharist if they are sick. That's a common courtesy that people will very much appreciate. Find a substitute to replace you and practice self-care. That's good ministry. 

5. Start a conversation throughout this Lent and Easter with your worship communities about how our personal challenges, the dangers of our world and the wellness of family and friends can keep us in a perpetual state of fear that can even lead to obsessive frenzy. What does our worship say to people about what we believe as disciples of a man who was so subversive that they murdered him when we attempt to sterilize ourselves as a result of fear? (Hello, Christians.)  

A false confidence

Gelling up before we distribute the source and summit of our faith is a superfluous action that gives people false confidence in that sacrament. You cannot package sacred mystery in a bottle of cleanser. Presence - our full, conscious and active presence, even when it's dangerous is the Gospel at work. Do we have the courage to change a five-year-old cleansing practice that has now become part of a sacred ritual? 

Gel in or gel out?  

Thoughts and comments welcome. 

A long way to go

Before Christianity, Rome celebrated today as Ancestors Day. The community remembered their deceased parents and anyone who influenced them in their lives. Christians in Rome adapted the day to celebrate the memory of the person they considered their founding parent, St. Peter, whom Jesus called "blessed" and changed Simon bar Jonah's name to Peter (rock), on which Jesus would build his church. (Mt 16: 13-19)  Peter was the first bishop of Rome, where he had come because of Rome's location as the center of the Roman empire and the new Christian faith. 

Today, the Catholic Church celebrates today as a feast, The Chair of Peter. Each bishop seats a chair in his own diocese from where he preaches and presides. In Rome, that chair belongs to Rome's bishop, the pope. When Pope Francis I greeted the crowd immediately following his election from the balcony of the Vatican, he referred to himself not as a pontiff but as the Bishop of Rome. 

In St. Peter's Basilica, the chair of the Bishop of Rome, the bishop's chair is wooden and ancient and believed to belong to St. Peter. In Latin, the bishop's chair is cathedra, where the Church derives its word "cathedral," the home base for each bishop in his own diocese. The Feast of the Chair of Peter commemorates the "chair" as a symbol of Peter's role that united the whole church and speaks to the heart of the Gospel, which is clear in its priority of the poor.

Today, Pope Francis I who currently fills the Chair of Peter issued a message on the 50th anniversary of Sacrosanctum Concilium (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy), which was the first document released by the Second Vatican Council. Pope Francis called Sacrosanctum Concilium a cause for "gratitude for the profound and wide-ranging renewal of liturgical life."

At the same time, the pope urged both ordained and lay people to commit to welcoming and more fully implementing the teachings of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy. Pope Francis encouraged "a renewed willingness to go ahead on the path indicated by the Council Fathers, as there remains much to be done for a correct and complete assimilation of the Constitution of the Holy Liturgy on the part of the baptised and ecclesial communities. I refer, in particular, to the commitment to a solid and organic liturgical initiation and formation, both of lay faithful as well as clergy and consecrated persons.”

Today, on the Feast of the Chair of Peter, Paul H. Colloton, OSFS posted a reflection on Pope Francis' statement highlighting a section on being fully immersed in Christ and the transformation by the whole church that includes the head and all members. The pope reminded us that there is still a great deal of work ahead of us.

Paul Colloton writes, "I'm reminded of what Francis de Sales says about prayer: "We talk to God and God speaks to us, we aspire to God and God inspires us...and what do we talk about, like lovers, only he beloved, only God." If we let God inspire, in-spire, breathe in us, we will be one with God and the whole Christ, the rest of the Body. How different we would be and our world would be then. Yes, thank you Pope Francis, we still have a long way to go." 

We agree and we're in for the long haul. But we can't do the work without prayer, community and commitment. Just as Jesus called Peter to build a church, Christ continues to beckon us to give thanks to God what has been possible to achieve through these 50 years of effort since the launch of Sacrosanctum Concilium and to commit to “a renewed willingness to go ahead on the path indicated by the Council Fathers, as there remains much to be done for a correct and complete assimilation of the Constitution of the Holy Liturgy on the part of the baptised and ecclesial communities. I refer, in particular, to the commitment to a solid and organic liturgical initiation and formation, both of lay faithful as well as clergy and consecrated persons.” Pope Francis I, Address, 2014-02-21 18:33:46 

We do have a long way to go.