“Church is Too Long!” by Fr. Evan Armatas
On Easter Sunday, the first one that I served as a clergyman, I visited my aunt’s house, as has been my families’ custom on Easter day, for our Paschal dinner. My Uncle George had a beautiful lamb on the spit, roasting over the coals, and a crowd of people spilled out of my aunt’s house into the back yard. After eating our fill, the family settled into its wonderful and familiar patterns of small group conversations. People settled onto couches, stood in circles, or paired up to visit about things important and trivial. I happened to be situated in the living room with my aunts, my mother, and my grandmother. This is one of my favorite things to do, listen to, and sometimes, join in with their lively conversation, otherwise known in Greek as “kouvenda.”
On that day, the topic was the services of the Church. Very quickly I knew they would be turning to me. I was, after all, the closest they had to an insider. Like many of us, they began to critique our services with the often-repeated complaint, “they are so long and repetitive. Why can’t you guys trim some of it?”
In my conversations with many of our faithful, I hear the same sentiment repeated time and time again. I would have to admit that I too have voiced my own frustration at the length of our Sunday service.
Recently we read, in one of the Sunday Gospels, the story of a woman who had a flow of blood for twelve years. This too is a long time. In the passage, we are told how she approached Jesus in secret in order to touch the fringe of his garment, which immediately healed her. The Lord perceived that power had gone out from him, and he questioned the crowd surrounding him saying, “”Who was it that touched me?’ When all had denied it, Peter said, ‘Master, the multitudes surround you and press upon you!’ But Jesus said, ‘Someone touched me; for I perceive that power has gone forth from me.’”
Today, more often than you would think, our own Church is indeed very crowded. And many even claim Christ as their Lord and Savior. Christianity, after all, is still the world’s largest religion. Similarly, we read how, on that day, a great crowd surrounded Jesus. In fact, we are told that the crowd was so large that the people even pressed upon Him.
A few weeks ago, I attended a Bronco game, and the experience of being in a large crowd can be exhilarating. I am sure many of you can relate to the excitement of being caught up in a crowd. It can make you feel like you are part of something bigger than yourself. A crowd can even have its own identity, and a crowd can literally move you in a certain direction.
Yet, being in a crowd can be a lonely experience. You can quickly become just “one” of the crowd, nameless, faceless, unknown, and unknowable. By being in the crowd, you can lose your identity – the crowd can end up being how you are identified. More to the point, being in a crowd, or following the crowd can keep us from being clear about who we are and what we truly need to be alive and well. The Church would say that being in the crowd can keep us from reaching out in order to be known and in order to be healed.
My own sense of the woman in the Gospel passage is that she wanted to be healed, and this ultimately led to her being known. The great mystery or wonder of this story is that in a crowd, she became herself again. Who she was became clear, was recognized, and restored. Jesus was not okay with leaving her alone. Rather, he wanted to know who she was. True healing, then, seems to be wrapped up in this concept of being known, and knowing others.
To remain in the crowd, being nameless and faceless, is safe, but it is also a path devoid life. Knowing this, it was not okay with Jesus that this woman just slip back into the crowd. Once she came forward, Jesus drew her towards him by desiring to know whom she was.
Ask yourself why was it that power only left Jesus for this one woman? For we know that many people pressed upon and came into contact with Him. Incredibly, only this woman was healed by touching the fringe of his garment. As for the crowd, it was not affected; she was the only the person.
Like her illness of twelve years, Church is long. And sometimes when we are ill-prepared to be in Church, we quickly get distracted and even resentful. Even when we crowd the chalice to receive the Body and Blood of Christ, we find that no power is imparted onto us; we remain unaffected, still sick. Yet, something greater than the fringe of Jesus’ garment is available to us.
Beginning with myself, I question my reasons for pressing forward to receive Communion. Do I act as one of the crowd, or am I a person willing to enter into relationship with Jesus? Like this faithful woman, am I desiring to be healed, do I approach in fear and trembling, ready to come forward to be known by the Lord? Have I the faith to approach with confidence? Have I set aside the length of my illness? And have I gone against the crowd? Am I looking to take something or encounter Someone?
In reality, Church isn’t too long for us, just as twelve years wasn’t too long for this woman. We just need to understand what is happening. Meeting the Lord, however long it takes, is worth the wait. Just think of that woman who waited twelve years to be healed and, like her, simply observe the masses and do the opposite. Avoid going with the flow and instead, chart a path to Christ.