Bishop Michael McKenna's Pastoral Letter 2020

WHO LONGS TO SEE GOD’S FACE

Dear Friends in Christ,

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am writing this year’s pastoral letter midway through a visitation of each of the seventeen parishes that make up the Diocese of Bathurst. In a normal year, I would have visited, at least once, every parish and many of the Eucharistic communities that comprise them; as well as a large number of our schools. However, this has not been a normal year. So, now that we can (and while we can), it was important to re-connect in person.

The wisest word about the experience of this past year is that we should use the slowdown to evaluate more deeply what we have been accustomed to practise; and to take the opportunity to envisage a post Covid future that is not merely a return to the old normal, but a turn to new ways of seeing, judging and acting.

It has been heartening to meet with the priests and people who have kept our parishes going through the trials of 2020 and to have found among them the joyful hope that is a fruit of fidelity. As one parishioner in Gulgong said, “This year my faith has been tested - and strengthened.”

He gave great witness to the promise expressed by St Peter: “This is a great joy to you, even though for a short time yet you must bear all sorts of trials; so that the worth of your faith, more valuable than gold, which is perishable even if it has been tested by fire, may be proved - to your praise and honour when Jesus Christ is revealed.” (1 Pt 1:6-7; cf 1Cor 3:13) In each parish, we have celebrated Mass and prayed together as far as current restrictions allowed.

Although it has not been possible to meet everyone, the Parish Priest in every place has gathered members of the pastoral council and finance committee, along with the school principals, to share our stories of the year that has been and our hopes for next year and the years to come. In parishes blessed with Word and Faith groups, I have had valuable time with them, too: these small groups are truly mustard seeds which, in the coming year, we will nurture to grow into a large plant. (Mk 4:30-32) i

Mission and Maintenance

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hen I was named as Bishop of Bathurst, in Easter Week of 2009, the priests of the Diocese were due to gather in Mudgee, so I went there to meet them. The first thing that one of them asked me was “Are you a mission man or a maintenance man?” I answered “Both, I hope.”

To launch and sustain the work of mission, we need the practicalities of a base to operate from. But we have to take care that the necessary work of maintenance does not become an end in itself, that we do not lose sight of the mission we are here to serve. That mission is to make Jesus Christ known, and help people to come to him, as we bear witness that he is alive in the community that bears his name.

To help, not hinder. Both Mark’s and Luke’s Gospels tell the instructive story of the paralysed man whose friends carry him on a stretcher to be healed by Jesus, but cannot get in because “there was no more room, even at the door” (Mk 2:2). The persevering and resourceful friends open up the roof and lower the stretcher down to Jesus from there. Not everyone has such friends: as church communities, do we make it easier or harder for people to come close to their Saviour? And how persevering and resourceful are we in helping people to meet him?

When mission looks like maintenance

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ometimes, it is not easy to distinguish mission from maintenance. Mission is not always spectacular or innovative, but it is always faithful to what God wants. I learnt about a great example of this in Vietnam, when I presided at the funeral of an old man in Nghe An who had been a catechist during the days of heavy persecution of the Church there, more than half a century ago.

The priests and religious had been driven away, some imprisoned, some killed. This quietly heroic farmer was the head catechist in his parish and found himself left in charge. Every morning, he opened the church and rang the bell, to gather the people for prayer; every evening, he rang the bell again, gathered the people, and afterwards closed the church for the night. He and his fellow catechists did their best to give the children basic religious instruction; and, whenever he heard there was a priest travelling nearby, he got word around so that people could come to Mass and celebrate the other sacraments.

It looked like routine, and so it was, but it was certainly mission. God does not measure success the way the world does: he measures according to how faithful we are to his call and promise, especially when we cannot see instant results. ii

We rang the bell, but no-one came

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here is a haunting parable that Jesus tells in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke:

“But to what shall I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplace and calling to their playmates, ‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not mourn.’” (Mt 11:16-17; cf Lk 7:31-32) Pandemic or no pandemic, we know that the numbers of Catholics in our parishes who regularly come to Mass has been falling. Those who have stopped attending because of old age, or because they are now celebrating the Eucharist in eternity, have not been replaced on the same scale with younger parishioners. We see the same decline in the numbers supporting their local church with voluntary service and financially.

We should not focus on these numbers as if they were an end in themselves; but we should pay attention to what they may say about how well we are living our mission.

The Bishop Emeritus of Darwin, Eugene Hurley, used to tell a story of his days as a young priest in the Diocese of Port Pirie. He got to know one of the Protestant ministers in town and asked him one day why his church celebrated Holy Communion so infrequently. The minister explained that it was because his congregation did not share the same beliefs in the Eucharist that Catholics had. “I know that you believe that Jesus Christ is truly present in the Mass. I don’t believe that, but if I did, I’d crawl over broken glass to get to it.”

This story reminds us that, as Catholics, we can be very casual and neglectful of this great gift, despite what we profess to believe about it. And, if we are honest, those of us responsible for teaching the Catholic faith must admit that we have not done a great job of communicating to our people and children the fullness and depth of all that the Holy Mass really is.

But I have also reflected on something more to the story. The minister would not have said those words unless Jesus Christ meant a lot to him. Once again, we are brought back to the true focus of our mission: to make Jesus known, to help people meet him, to grow in knowledge and love of him together as a community of Word, Sacrament and Service.

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Lord, this is the People who longs to see your face

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arly on in my journey around the parishes, I was reflecting on the readings for the following day’s Mass, and was struck by the response to the Psalm: Lord, this is the People that longs to see your face.

It made me think first of the people across our Diocese who are drawn together in each Eucharistic community in our parishes by exactly that longing: to see God’s face.

But we do not come together only to benefit ourselves. The people we live among, whether or not they might think it or say it, have all been created in love by God and, deep in their being, long to see his face. And it is our mission to be the Church who shows Christ’s face to this world.

Early next year, our Cathedral of St Michael and St John will reopen after years of careful repair and renewal. The oldest Catholic cathedral in New South Wales (and the second oldest in the Commonwealth) will again be a tangible symbol, for all to see, of the faith community that built and has restored it. A church building is not the Church, but it is a visible witness to the world, of the people who dedicate it to God and worship him there.

The demanding work of renewing the Cathedral will soon be completed. The work that it symbolises - the renewal of our community of faith - will take longer: in fact, it will not be completed until Christ comes again. But, let us ask the Holy Spirit to teach us each day how to be persevering and resourceful, remembering that the only true measure of our success will be our fidelity to God’s will. +Michael McKenna Bishop of Bathurst Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica 2020

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