If the Roman Catholic Church is a family,she has a lot of stepchildren. These are the folks who hand around, Cinderella-like, on the periphery. They sit in the back of the church. They may come to Mass only for major life events, or holidays. They don’t know where they fit.
Who are these people? They may be LGBTQ. They may be divorced and remarried. They may be at odds with one or more of the official church teachings.
For some people, these are not reasons to feel like stepchildren. Some people have a vision of church that allows them to take what makes sense to them , leave the rest, and still have a sense of belonging.
The Church’s stepchildren aren’t like that. Her stepchildren take the Church at her word. They think that if they don’t believe a certain way and act a certain way, they’re not really part of the family. They’re second class, at best.
If the institutional Church is a family, why can’t she be more like a blended family? In a blended family, there are still blood ties, but they aren’t the only ties, and they aren’t the most important ties. The most importany ties are those of shared life and love.
This image of Church-as-blended family doesn’t say that doctrine and dogma and teaching aren’t important commonalities; it just says they’re not the most important commonalities. For the Church to be a blended family, its leaders and teachers don’t have to change an iota of doctrine or dogma. They can adhere to all of the creeds and councils and codes.
What they would do, however, is act as if the most important bonds are those of common life and love. The Church lives a common life most visibly at the Sunday Eucharist. Receiving Eucharist is a significant aspect of Roman Catholic life. What if leaders communicated this, but also communicated that worthy reception of the Eucharist is a matter of conscience, and conscience is first of all between the individual and God?
This is not a devaluing of the Eucharist, but rather a re-valuing of it. Instead of people receiving Eucharist outside of theirhome parishes so as to avoid the priest who know they are divorced and remarried, they could join their parish family at the table, and deal with God about the divorce and remarriage. Instead of LGBTQ people deciding to stay int he closet rather than forgo receiving Eucharist, they could deal with God about their sexual orientation and practice.
This is a time-honored tradition in Roman Catholicism. It’s called the the primacy of conscience. “Primacy of conscience” doesn’t mean “anything goes.” It means I stand before God in the transparency of who I am. What is the truth about me and my actions? Is my heart open to God, and am I willing to continue opening it, no matter what that costs me? If we are God’s children, we have a right and a responsibility to stand before God in just this way. And there is no fooling God.
If the Church taught openly about the primacy of conscience and encouraged people to form and honor their consciences, she would have many fewer people who feel like stepchildren. The weekly family gathering would be messier. There would be a much greater variety of people there. Some would be those whom others consider “unworthy.”
Some might feel they have earned their place at the table. They’ve kept all of the rules since they reached the age of reason. They were married “in the Church” and they used Natural Family Planning. They’ve dotted their i’s and crossed their t’s.
When Jesus said, “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone” to those about to execute the woman caught in adultery, all of her accusers walked away. Like them, each of us, when we lie awake in the wee hours of the morning, knows that we are not without sin; our sin may just be less visible than someone else’s.
One of the hallmarks of Roman Catholicism is that the institutional church doesn’t change with every shift in society and culture. She establishes a benchmark. At a time and place in history when so much is left to how an individual “feels” about something, establishing and holding to a benchmark is valuable. Let it stand.
But realize that, in one way or another, we all fall short of that benchmark. None of us is “worthy” to be God’s child and to sit at God’s table. Let each of us trust God as the only One who has the right to judge, and welcome each other to God’s table.