Discipline

Back in March, I wrote about the impending change in priestly leadership at my parish of St. Paul the Apostle, from the Oblates of St. Francis de Sales to priests of the Diocese of Charlotte. As I wrote then:

It is an emotional time of transition, and one of fear and anxiety for some, as we have not faced a change like this in a long time. The parish has been staffed by order priests for its first 35 years, first the Paulists, then the Oblates. This is a step into the unknown.

At the time I quoted Jeremiah ("Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD, whose hope is the LORD...") as I firmly believed the hand of God was shaping the course of events in our parish life, and that our prayer for vibrant new leadership would be answered. I had already noted a change in the parish as if in anticipation of what was to come:

Our parish has been through a lot over the past ten years, including the removal of a beloved pastor due to accusations of sexual abuse and a severe financial crisis. I don't need to recount all the particulars, as they are all part of a past we can't change. Over that time we watched our numbers wither by a quarter or even a third.

But we have also watched a miracle take hold. Our finances bounced back, and in spite of the strains of the recession are still better than they were. Our numbers have bounced back. There is a renewed sense of who we are as a community, and the role we play in the larger community of Greensboro.

As so often happens when we trust the Lord, our trials have become a beautiful gift. Because I believe we now see that our faith community at St. Paul's is much more than our priestly leadership, more than the homily on Sunday or even the Mass itself. We are here for each other, and we are here for others we don't even know -- the homeless who stay in our church as part of the Greensboro Interfaith Hospitality Network, the Muslim family whose house we helped build through Habitat for Humanity and the people whose houses we'll work on in Honduras, the people of our sister parish in Ecuador, and the people who come through our doors every day to find help to get through these hard times.

We are now about two weeks into the new "administration", and I can honestly say that I couldn't be more delighted. Fr. John Allen and Fr. Benjamin Roberts have already injected new and positive energy through their wonderful interpersonal and communication skills as well as their great love and reverence for the celebration of the Eucharist. I myself feel renewed in my faith after feeling for such a long time like I was struggling to put one foot in front of the other in my parish life. I am now filled with optimism and hope -- and gratitude.

Which leads me to yet another personal Emmaus moment, one that perhaps my fellow parishioners share. Looking back, and seeing for the first time the new possibilities that lie ahead, I feel as if our community at St. Paul's was being disciplined, in the sense of training as opposed to punishment, for even greater service to God and our community through our trials the last few years. St. Paul himself uses the same imagery, of both the training of a runner and the discipline of a son by his father, in Hebrews 12:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us and persevere in running the race that lies before us while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith. For the sake of the joy that lay before him he endured the cross, despising its shame, and has taken his seat at the right of the throne of God. Consider how he endured such opposition from sinners, in order that you may not grow weary and lose heart. In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood. You have also forgotten the exhortation addressed to you as sons:
"My son, do not disdain the discipline of the Lord or lose heart when reproved by him;for whom the Lord loves, he disciplines; he scourges every son he acknowledges."
Endure your trials as "discipline"; God treats you as sons. For what "son" is there whom his father does not discipline?...At the time, all discipline seems a cause not for joy but for pain, yet later it brings the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who are trained by it.

Through the love and grace of Jesus Christ, and by the power of prayer in His name, our trials and frustrations, our hurts and failures, are being transformed into new life in our parish. Hallelujah!