The profession of faith—the Creed—when we celebrate Mass falls into the category of experience which we term “ritualistic”—meaning, it is something which we sometimes recite automatically so much so that we think nothing of it. But the reality is, we stand or fall on the profession of faith.In the Gospel, in conducting an opinion poll, Jesus seemed to be unsure of himself. The fact was that Jesus’ question was a challenge to faith as it prompted the 12, led by Peter into a profession of faith. In asking about himself, Jesus is asking us about ourselves. In a sense, the question “Who do you say I am?” is at once a question about who Jesus is and who we are—a question which brings us directly into the heart of the Church.
The definition of Church is thus bound inextricably or inseparably to the question that Jesus asked of the 12 and the answer given by them. In this way, one can say that the Church exists in order to answer the question of Jesus: Who do you say I am? And the only answer that the Church can give is simply, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God”. Anything less is not the Church.
Only then, does it make sense that Jesus promises to Peter: You are Peter and upon you, I will build my Church and no power of hell can prevail over you. This is an assurance which is accepted by faith but is now challenged. What challenges our faith is the “Church”. If you like, let’s call the challenge or properly the “obstacle” to our faith, the “Institutional Church”.
This obstacle to faith which we term as the institutional Church may be derived from our experiences of powerlessness. How so? A good example is our country. The growing phenomenon of “gated communities” is testimony to the powerlessness of the police force to provide ample security for the citizen. [1] When an institution is empowered to carry out a duty and is powerless to do so, people begin to lose confidence. When people are powerless, they look for alternative sources of security. It is not just a crisis of authority but also a crisis of confidence in authority.
This lack of confidence in authority is in a way transposed to the Church. And it happens on many levels. For example, in the experience of poverty, a form of powerlessness, the Church is seen to be favouring the rich and has no compassion for the poor. It may not be our experience but it seems to be the experience in some Latin American countries. But, what is more damaging to confidence comes from the witness of people in authority—people in power who have betrayed our trust. Was that not one of the reasons for the loss of the 2/3 majority in Parliament by the ruling coalition? Ask yourself what the perception is of the “integrity” of the government? The point is that it does not take much to cross from the integrity of the government to that of the Church. Catholics witnessed the failure of those tasked to take care of the Lord’s vineyard in the horrors of the sex scandals that erupted across some parts of the Church. And we are still paying for that.
When human credibility fails, it does not take much to lose confidence in the institution, more so in an institution like the Church. In our case, this damaging loss of confidence is translated into a lack of confidence in the teaching of the Church; a lack of trust in the governance of the Church; and finally a lack of faith of the Sacraments of the Church—a loss of confidence in the creed, code and the cult. So much so that we now hear people say: I believe in Jesus, but I don’t believe in the Church—spirituality is in but religion or organised religion is out.
However, the Gospel shows that this position is inconceivable with the intention of Christ because there is a necessary connexion between Christology and Ecclesiology. Christology is the understanding of who Jesus Christ is and Ecclesiology is the understanding of what the Church is. We cannot have Christ without the Church. Christ set up the Church so that in and through the Church, he continues to shepherd, teach and sanctify. For Christ to be present, the Church must exist. [2]
What I have said may or may not make sense to you. But, it does to me because a crisis of confidence in the Church is ultimately a crisis not of the Church but about the promise of Christ. Since there is this link between Christ and the Church, the question is, can Christ be present in a structure so peopled by sin? Looking at the “apostolic succession”, looking at the bishop surrounded by his priests, do you believe in the promise of Christ to be with us?
I am standing here on the promise of Christ himself. Christ is with us not because of who we are or what we are capable of but because of who He is—God with us and God for us. In a sense this gospel is relevant to people who are disappointed or angry with the Church, people who believe that any church is the same or people who are on the fence. It is a challenge to faith in Christ. Despite the failure of witnessing in the Church—and you see weaknesses always in the Church—one soldiers on because of the promise of Christ—God with us. When we experience failure, we criticise. Check this out in your own experience. Your husband fails you and you criticise... your wife, your children etc. Criticism that is constructive is important but what is equally important is also to pray for those who fail, particularly those who fail in shouldering the responsibility of their office.
In conclusion, I love the Church because She is the Bride of Christ, the promise of Christ to be with us. Despite the imperfection of the members of Christ’s Body, the Church remains to be the womb and the freedom where I can live out Christ’s question to me: “Who do you say I am?” [3] This is important because in a world buffeted by the winds of relativism, “You are the Christ” is the Church’s resounding answer, the Church’s unequivocal identity. Anything less (than “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God, the Saviour of the World) is not the Church.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] In a sense, the acceptance of gated communities is capitulation to our powerlessness, a retreat from civil society and a return to the “wild, wild west”. The implication may not be fully realised as we celebrate the security of being in a “gated” community. Even in the most “civilised” societies, there is such a thing as gated community living. But that’s not a sign of failure or retreat from civil society but could be a testimony to “paranoia” or just the insecure need to be a class above others.
[2] Between the Son of God-made-flesh and his Church there is a profound, unbreakable and mysterious continuity by which Christ is present continuously in and to his people. He is always with us; always with the Church, built on the foundation of the Apostles and alive in the succession of the Apostles.
[3] Where Christ is the Church must also be. “Who am I?” is really a question about “Who we are”. The first words of the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (Lumen gentium) give us a clue: “Christ is the light of all nations”. It means that the Church, the question who we are is answered by talking about Christ, not about ourselves, not about “who we are”.
