How we as a community have arrived in a new land
On the day before the blessing of the chapel and altar, our church community moved in a procession from our former location on Marxergasse to our new home in the Praterstraße. During the evening of prayer that ensued, Fr. George spoke about how we as a community have now “arrived in a new land.” These are his remarks.
Of course in a moment like this, one asks oneself what one would like to share with the community…on this first evening together here. Earlier this week I asked the Lord for some word or some idea. I could simply repeat the old stories about the why of this step. But this quotation came to mind, which David (Schwarzbauer) read today in the Marxergasse – Genesis 12:1, a beautiful passage with a beautiful promise: The Lord said to Abram: Go forth from your land, from your kindred and from your father’s house to the land that I will show you! I will make of you a great nation, I will bless you and make your name great. You shall be a blessing. […] Through you all the families of the earth shall find blessing (Gen 12:1–3)
Go forth to a land that I will show you
And it was this promise to Abram that the Israelites would have a prophetic mission for the whole world. Not only for themselves. And this going forth, go to a land that I will show you, is precisely what we have just done. We crossed over our Jordan River, the Danube Canal, and have arrived here in a new land.
What does the land stand for? Three thoughts came to me this week about what this land might represent. On the one hand, it refers to this house itself, but beyond that, what this land wants to tell us.
The first thought came to me last Wednesday when I was doing my night adoration (during our 7 day, 24 hour/day adoration „24/7), where we placed this move into our new home before the Lord in prayer. In the First Letter to the Corinthians I read the following words of St. Paul: Rather, we proclaim God’s wisdom, mysterious and hidden, which God predetermined before the ages for our glory. None of the rulers of this age understood it; for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory (1 Cor 2:7–8). And then comes this sentence that struck me: But, as it is written: What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him (1 Cor 2:9). That means: of course, the land or this going forth is, first of all for Abraham, a metaphor for the true promised land. The glory destined for humanity is ultimately heaven. It is eternal communion with God. Nothing else will satisfy the human person. Not honor, not money, not power, not recognition, not fame, not pleasure. In the end, the hole that we have in our hearts can only be filled by one. The goal of the human person is heaven. And heaven is God. In him we live and move and have our being. Humanity’s horizon is no small horizon. The human being is not simply someone who is born into the world, grows up, eventually marries, builds a house, has a good job, finally pays off debts, spends a few years in retirement, and then dies – and that’s it. The human person is created for eternal life. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly (John 10:10).
When we ask ourselves why we are doing all of this here, it is because we are convinced that this is the goal of the human person and that it is worth striving and fighting for, and giving everything for, ultimately, even for a single human being. It is not about numbers; it is about each individual person. Because every single human being is an image of God, has an infinite destiny, and possesses an immeasurable dignity. Whether small or great, sick or healthy, old or young, whatever skin color: we believe in the greatness of the human person because we believe in the greatness of God. Christianity is the greatest humanism of all time. Because it ascribes to the human being an infinite dignity, with an infinite goal, not like some piece of matter that can be thrown away when it is no longer needed. And that is why it is worthwhile even to suffer for the sake of another fellow human being, to take something upon oneself, to serve another person, to wash his feet. For the Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many (Mark 10:45).
When we ask ourselves why we are doing this, it is because we want to serve people. Because the measure of love for God is the measure of love for our fellow human beings (St. Edith Stein). Because he has loved humanity with his infinite love, and we want more and more to align ourselves with this love. That, ultimately, is what moves us. It is this vision from 10,000 meters up that shows us why we are doing this – and it also brings in the other two meanings of land, of its deeper significance.
The voice that calls me upward
The second meaning of the land – Adam is called to leave the place where he is. This is a metaphor for what each person is personally invited to: it may sound a bit old-fashioned, but it is to become holy. The human person is made for great heights and for deep waters, not for the shallow shore, not for the puddle on land. He is made for the sea. For the greatness and vastness of God. And we believe in this human capacity for greatness because we believe in the greatness of God. We ascribe much to the human person, which means: the human being is called to holiness. We do not want to live a bland Christianity in our community.
One of our core values is zeal, that too may sound a bit old-fashioned. Zeal is another way of speaking about the fire that burns in our hearts. Holiness only makes sense if we have truly made a decision for Jesus. If Jesus Christ is the criterion by which I make all my other decisions. That means that God truly comes first. Tomorrow, Sunday, we will hear a challenging Gospel (Luke 14:25–33). Jesus says: whoever does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, is not worthy of me. That is a hard word. Does he mean to promote that we should hate our spouses or our children? Certainly not! The problem is not the spouse, but my attachment or unhealthy dependency, or expectation.
We are to hate whatever keeps us from placing God first. Whatever is off-kilter in our hearts. Making idols out of other things. Motivations of power, wealth, honor, pride, and pleasure – that is easy enough to recognize. But even my child, my husband, my wife, my work – anything can become an idol, even if that not so easily recognized. And we destroy these things when there is not a right ordering of them. That means: a saint is, first of all, someone who is inwardly free. Because he says no to everything that robs him of this true freedom, which is ultimately found in God. When God is in first place, I am truly free, because I will not bow down before anything else. And holiness also means living a life according to the Word of God, which says to me: Go forth out of yourself. You are called to something greater and higher. Do not be satisfied with mediocrity! When I ask what distinguishes the voice of God from other voices, it is this: the voice that calls me upward. The voice that calls me to greater love, to greater surrender.
When we have understood this and to the extent that we have understood it, then the third way of understanding the land truly makes sense as well.
Creating a place that tastes of heaven
It is called: the new land. Yesterday, Friday, we heard the Gospel about wine in old wineskins (Luke 5:33–39). Sometimes you have to stop repairing the old and do something new. For example, when you have been in Marxergasse for a long time and seeing it´s state, you realize that it is good for us to do something new.
This renewal through the grace of Christ is personal, yes. But it also refers to us as a community. The Christian is never alone. We, as the people of God, are set on a pathway, we are taking possession of a new land, a new way of thinking about doing Church.
Last week I tried to open my heart a little and told the story of how exactly ten years ago I was frustrated. At the end of August 2015, we had founded the John Paul II. Center, and I was frustrated because I had already been in Austria for ten years, and we as a community for twenty years and after twenty years of work, we had three dysfunctional small groups to show for. Three. It’s a bit exaggerated to paint everything bleek and grim, because there were also beautiful pastoral experiences. But we had not really built anything institutionally.
One night in the summer of 2015, I read a book by an American priest. He said: “The problem of the Church is a problem of culture.” And he began to explain what he meant. He spoke so directly to my heart, and suddenly I realized: I need a pastoral conversion, I must be converted – not because I was beset by an incongruent will, I didn’t have bad intentions, but I was completely mistaken in my understanding of what the Church is supposed to be.
Back then I had understood myself as a service provider. I offer my preaching, I offer a blessing, I offer confession, I offer some teaching – and you get to consume and be the consumer. And I had even fostered that through my way of doing things, in the sense of: here are the priests in the front, they are the professionals; here we are, the passive laypeople, watching.
I do not want to put the blame on the people who were journeying with me. It was my fault, I had encouraged a wrong way of understanding doing church. Back then you would typically hear: We’ll help Father with his things. But it’s not about helping the Father or the Fathers with their things, it’s about us journeying together as the Church, to bring this city back to Jesus. Each of us has a different role in this, but we are all in the same boat. We have a shared responsibility.
That was an impressive moment, when I realized that I had to take responsibility for this, to stand up and to preach it. At the end of August 2015, there were about ten people in Marxergasse. I quoted a Protestant, just to make it a little less embarrassing for me, to shift a bit of the blame, and then I put it into Catholic terms and said, very provocatively: If you are here from other parishes or other Christian communities in Vienna, then you should know: from now on, this place is no longer for you, but for people who do not know the Lord.
There are 100 Sunday Masses within a half-hour walking distance of this place. Our problem in Vienna is not a lack of Masses. There is wonderful teaching, there are wonderful lectures, there are wonderful ways to deepen one’s faith. If you are ready to serve the people who do not know the Lord, then you are more than welcome here. But if not … That was my Hernan Cortez burn the ships moment on the beaches of Mexico. I thought, either I go back to Canada and feed my cows, or I don’t know… something has to change.
At that moment I thought everyone would start throwing rotten tomatoes at me or just walk out. I certainly didn’t mean to be offensive, but it was a Holy Spirit moment, because afterwards everyone (all 10 people) came up to me and said: Father George, that’s right! We go here and there, but there is no commitment, no ownership of a shared vision to bring this city back to Jesus.
We were inward focussed on maintaining the flock instead of outward focussed on mission. In fact we seemed to be quite happy not having to worry about fish that smelled, dressed, believed, thought and spoke differently than were were used to. We were supposed to fish, we just didnt like the fish we were supposed to catch. Changing that has been key in bringing us where we are today.
When we think about what we are doing here on Praterstraße: we do not want to make ourselves comfortable. Yes, we are furnishing the house beautifully, but not for ourselves. Rather, we want to create a place that reflects something of the taste of heaven. What matters first is not the outward appearance, but hopefully the way we are, how we present ourselves, and how we treat one another. How we live love among us. How we serve the people of this city.
And I would be very glad if you continue to be part of this. And who knows where the journey will lead us.