In Praise of Parishes

When I served as a pastoral associate in my home parish, I came to enjoy attending Mass in different churches whenever I traveled. No matter the language, I felt at home. The universality of the Mass made each parish feel familiar. I felt like I belonged there.

Like a busman on holiday, I would dip my fingers in the holy water and take in the beauty of the church’s architecture and decor. I would look at the faces of the parishioners around me and wonder about their lives. I listened to the homily, received Communion, and read the bulletin. There was something light and simple about it. When Mass ended, so did my connection

When I attended Mass in my own parish, I did not just see faces. I saw stories. I knew who was struggling in a marriage, who was carrying grief, and who was facing illness. The experience of Mass at my home parish was about belonging to a real community over time, with all the joys and burdens that come with it.

A parish you visit connects you into the wider Church. A parish you belong to is where you live out your faith alongside others. In truth, every parish does both.

St. Paul reminds us, “Now you are the Body of Christ, and individually members of it” (1Cor 12:27).  For many of us, the parish may be the only place where we can live out Paul’s image of our union in Christ. In a world where community is often hard to find, the parish remains something rare and beautiful.

Parishes bring together all kinds of people. Young and old. The strong in faith and those who are barely holding on. People with different views, different backgrounds, and different hopes. We do not gather because we are alike, but because we are all drawn to Christ.

That kind of community is not easy. Some long for what once was. Others hope for something new. Some are deeply involved, while others slip in quietly and occasionally. Being part of a parish calls us to patience, to growth, and to love beyond our personal preferences. Sometimes it means staying when things are not as we would choose. Other times, it means receiving kindness from someone we hardly know.

We can take heart in the fact that the apostles and early disciples were also very different from one another, with his or her own struggles, and yet Christ called them into community. Christ does the same for us today.

At the Last Supper, Jesus said, “This is my body, given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” For two thousand years, in homes, in hidden places, in great cathedrals and makeshift chapels, believers have gathered to hear the Word and celebrate the Eucharist.

Let us give thanks for what we can easily take for granted: our parishes that gather us in, hold our stories, and help us live our faith together.  Where would we be without them?

If you enjoyed this post, you might also want to read Living Stones — a reflection on how each of us is called to take our place in building God's Church through the gifts we've been given. https://www.catholic-conversations.com/post/living-stones