by Fr. Richard Soo, SJ
One:
The child of my parishioners was killed last month. Their only child. Killed by Moscow. Killed defending his people. It’s an unspeakable, infinite loss. Every time I see them in church, I see their son.
In the Byzantine Churches, one Lenten practice we love is more holy Communion: two or three times more than the rest of the year.
However, the Church also encourages us to a second kind of communion — a “horizontal” kind. This is communion with our sisters and brothers here on Earth, especially those oppressed, victimized and suffering. “Solidarity” is a less churchy world to describe this kind of communion.
St. Dorotheos of Gaza said: “The more one is united to his neighbour, the more one is united with God.” Lent for us means both oneness with God above and oneness with our neighbour — whether beside us or on the other side of the planet. Jesus defines “neighbour” not by their geolocation, but by their pain.
The pain of my parishioners is also my pain … is also God’s pain … is Christ’s pain on the cross.
Two:
Fr. Mike, my friend, recently ordained in Ukraine, was almost killed. When he heard the air raid siren, he grabbed his young wife, their baby and his mom and ran outside. Immediately the rocket struck their apartment. They were alive but lost everything.
St. John Chrysostom said: “Feeding the hungry is a greater work than raising the dead.” “Horizontal communion” is one of the three pillars by which our Church traditionally lives Lent (prayer, fasting, helping the poor). I have photos of him, during Russian bombings, celebrating the Eucharist with his parishioners in a bomb shelter underground amidst sewer pipes.
The more I experience “churchly” Communion, the more it inspires me to unite with Christ in my neighbour who is suffering. And the more I find Christ in my serving and solidarity with the poor, the more I find myself closer to God.
St. Mother Teresa said: “I used to pray that God would feed the hungry … but now I pray that he will guide me to do whatever I’m supposed to do … I used to pray for answers, but now I’m praying for strength. I used to believe that prayer changes things, but now I know that prayer changes us and we change things.”
We move toward oneness with God by both partaking of the body of Christ from the altar and our serving and solidarity with the body of Christ in our neighbours, particularly those being victimized and attacked.
Three:
I cannot “unsee” the photo of my friend Matt, his back, the torture marks left there by Beijing’s “police.”
I want to unsee. I want to run away, to be in a happy place. Lent is also a place of spiritual warfare. God invites me to Communion, including the “horizontal” kind, love and solidarity to those in pain. God invites me to my own healing in embracing pain with his love. Fr. George Kosicki, CSB, said mercy is “having a pain in your heart for the pains of others and taking pains to do something about their pain.”
It’s a natural temptation to fear being overwhelmed by all the darkness in our world today. But let us take heart, remembering what the great Swiss theologian Karl Barth said on the eve of his death: “Yes, the world is dark. Don’t be downhearted! Never! For it is ruled not only in Moscow, or Washington, or in Peking, but from high above, from heaven.”
