Mindfulness: More Than Physical Presence by Gene Ciarlo

Earlier this month I stood on the lawn of the state capital in Honolulu where thousands of people had gathered, courtesy of the Hands Off! initiative, to express their feelings and opinions about the US government under the leadership of President Trump and his henchman and co-operator, Elon Musk.

It was a carnival atmosphere as the portable PA system blasted, “Hey, hey, ho, ho, Trump and Elon got to go.” The message and apparent mayhem did not move me; the crowd did. All of a sudden, I felt alone and had tears in my eyes—yes, I was near the point of crying, because of what this cast of several thousand people was communicating to me about how we gather for a common cause, for this common cause. I talked to people whom I had never met, and even though the subject matter of the event was deadly serious, there was a festive, communal atmosphere about all of it, captured by a plane flying overhead.

Were they people of one mind, one heart, and one affection? Definitely not. Yes, of one mind broadly, that Trump and Elon had to go; but as for the understanding about why they had to go, it seemed that the placards and posters manifested almost as many reasons as there were participants in the event. The point: a democracy, the democracy, is being threatened.

Fast forward to the next day. As I write these words it is Sunday morning and I am about to leave for Mass at the Cathedral Basilica of Our Lady of Peace. The liturgy there is overly active, verbal, musical, seemingly alive and vibrant. But is it prayerful and mindful, one in mind, heart, and affection? That is dubious, at best. There is hardly time for quiet reflection, since the public recitation of the rosary immediately precedes the Mass.

I found something in the very secular gathering at the “government cathedral” in Honolulu that I did not, could not, and will not find at the place of gathering to celebrate Eucharist at the Catholic cathedral. Missing is a common cause, a common unspoken but felt understanding, a common sense of unity and belonging, a we-are-all-here-together-for-the-same-reason understanding. Body and voice are there, but they are not enough. Heart and soul are missing. The medium is the message, as Marshall McLuhan wrote in 1964. The medium rather than the external words, music, and human chatter and clatter are central; the medium bears depth and unspoken intuition. The gathering is the medium-message. The gathering in an unspoken sense of belonging, commonality, and unity of mind, heart, and will. Unity and common understanding are felt long before they are ever expressed in words.

We don’t find that very often in our Catholic Christian gatherings to celebrate Eucharist, or just to be and pray together. Generally, people have a “me-and-God” mentality, perhaps not even a “me-and-Jesus” mentality, which, to me, is more real and sensible than relationship with an impersonal, hidden, unrealistic God.

What happened to the earliest days of Christianity, in which people were committed to Jesus and to each other in heart and soul, mind and affection? The principles of sociology entered upon the scene. Simply put, it went the way of all movements that are ignited and enlivened by a charismatic figure like Jesus who breathes life into those who catch the Spirit and say “Yes” to the movement and the man. The flame is ignited and roars into an unstoppable firestorm, like the windblown fires in California this past winter. No one and nothing can stop them, not pagan emperors, not lions and gladiators, not Huns and barbarians. That is what happens when hearts and minds are captivated as much by the man as the message.

That, in sum, is my point. Down through the annals of Christianity, the messianic man has not been captured by the heart that is ready and willing to commit to Christianity and The Way. In the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA), the constant, unceasing emphasis has to be on the person of Jesus and definitely not on doctrine and structure. Unfortunately, for the most part it has been a matter of imparting to the catechumens the teachings and rubrics of the Catholic Church. The mistake, in my opinion, is learning to become Catholic. Even if Jesus, the Christ, cannot once again be with us in the flesh, his spirit can and must come alive in the initiates. That is the reason for an RCIA format that tries so hard to make the original spirit of commitment and enthusiasm come alive.

It is a difficult and frustrating adventure, but the catechists have to be totally committed to Jesus and his message or the willing and ready disciples will never catch nor come alive with his spirit. It takes fire to create fire. We can see what happens when the doctrines and literal words of Scripture take precedence over the spirit and message of the Christ. One is left with Christian fundamentalism and an Evangelical Christianity that says nothing about the real Jesus and everything about the literal words of Scripture, which are poor, halting, and incomplete ideas, along with the transcription of events that were composed by men who tried very hard to capture the person and message of Jesus. As a result, the would-be and want-to-be believers devour the words of Scripture and spit out those which do not fit their agenda. It is not religion nor spirituality. Applied to secular realities it is called politics, plain and simple. We witness time and again the ravings of the crowd who have already decided what they pick and choose to believe about Jesus and Christianity. It ends up being idolatry, worshipping words and concepts rather than the Person and personality of Christ.

I witness at the cathedral on these recent Sunday mornings the sole catechumen, the would-be Catholic, who comes before the celebrant at the conclusion of the Liturgy of the Word. The directives from the RCIA signify a prayer and a blessing, after which the prospective new Catholic is led out of the assembly of the faithful, to be baptized during the Eucharist on Holy Thursday evening. Then, as a new Catholic Christian, she will take part in the Breaking of the Bread. It is a thought-initiating moment for me. What does it mean to the Catholics who are witnessing this event, this stage on the way to becoming another member of the Gathering? What is it saying to this young person who has come forward to be welcomed into the local Catholic community? I hope for the best; I wonder about the road that led this person to this moment. All of the forms are in place; the program has been followed to witness and welcome a new member of the community.

I have one question to ask her, and I hope I get the opportunity: “What do you think of Jesus?” Or, as Jesus himself inquired among his disciples, “Who do people say that I am? . . . But who do you say that I am?” (Matt 13:13-16). ♦

Gene Ciarlo is a priest no longer active in the ministry. Ordained from the American College, University of Louvain, Belgium, he spent most of his ministry in parish life. After receiving a master’s degree in liturgical studies from Notre Dame University he returned to his alma mater in Louvain as director of liturgy and homiletics. Gene lives in Vermont, where everything is gracefully green when it is not solemnly white.  

Image: Easter Vigil in Chartres, France, 2005. Laurent Jerry / Wikimedia Commons / CC BY-SA 4.0