The article entitled, “Clericalism isn’t the only thing stopping the Catholic Church from embracing synodality, ” argued that the major challenge for synodality was to embrace co-responsibility for the mission of the Church and to act on it. What holds us back from this? In the above article, I described a pervasive mindset among Catholic people that leads them to view the Church as an institution that provides spiritual resources they can consume (think of the way we speak about “getting” sacraments).
In the wider society, we can multiply instances of religion (without much grounding in real faith) as a program of personal enhancement or as a comforting tranquilizer to help get us through the troubles of life. In our own Catholic context, there is also a kind of passivity born from reliance on the religious professionals (priests, bishops, other ministers) to get things done. Of course, there are times when those religious professionals are quite happy to take charge and even stifle initiatives that might begin in the community.
And here, clericalism can feed into the resistance to synodality. In collating responses to the preparatory gatherings for the synod in my diocese, I also saw that people most often spoke to the Church (as if it were a reality outside of themselves) rather than from the Church for which they would assume agency. Again, the challenge of synodality is to embrace co-responsibility for the mission. The whole people of God is summoned to take up the mission. Lay people in a particular way have the responsibility and the unique opportunity to bring what Pope St. John XXIII called the vivifying power of the Gospel into the world in all its dimensions—family, community, workplace, and civic society.
Now I wish to address the subject of “rediscovering co-responsibility in mission,” showing that co-responsibility in the mission is not some recent invention, but that it has been with us, actually, from the very beginning in the Gospels.
The Church in Mission
But first, a bit of more recent history, some of which may be familiar. The modern emergence or re-emergence of co-responsibility in mission finds its roots in Pope Leo XIII at the end of the nineteenth century and in the teachings of popes in the first part of the twentieth century, particularly Pope Pius XI. They spoke of “Catholic Action,” the movement of the laity to help the bishops and priests to carry on the mission. By the time of the Second Vatican Council, there was an important shift. If you read (and I highly recommend this) chapter four of the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (Lumen Gentium) on the laity, you begin to see that those who are “in the world” on their own have the right and the mandate to carry the mission forward.
All along the way, the implied question that continues to haunt us even today is: who really has ownership for the mission? Is it really the bishops and priests? Is it the entire people of God? To explore these questions in detail is beyond us in this essay, but I want to point out a decisive passage from Lumen Gentium that casts a light on the whole matter: “Though they differ essentially and not only in degree, the common priesthood of the faithful and the ministerial or hierarchical priesthood are nonetheless ordered to each other; each in its own way shares in the one priesthood of Christ” (§10).
Clearly, we are not talking about competing groups that can claim a greater or lesser share in the priesthood and, therefore, the mission of Christ. They are different, but they also depend on each other, so that it would make no sense to have one without the other. Nearly sixty years since the end of the Second Vatican Council, we are still probing the meaning of this and trying to understand it. For our present purposes, I would suggest that it undergirds a strong affirmation of co-responsibility for the mission and in the mission of the Church.
With that in mind, let us consider this Church that is in mission. Obviously, we cannot and need not explore the full nature of the Church, a task well beyond us. There is, however, a basic set of distinctions which I believe will be very helpful for us to consider how we share co-responsibility in and for the mission of the Church.
From the great French patrologist and specialist in the Didache, Jean-Paul Audet, I came to understand three interpenetrating dimensions of the reality of the Church as community, structured institution, and movement. These are not models of the Church but genuine dimensions that interpenetrate each other in the reality of the Church. The Church is a community, a people gathered, a reality of persons, a communion. The Church is a structured institution, visibly organized to support the community and its mission. Finally, the Church is a movement, that is, a force of mobilization that brings forward and continues what Jesus began, as the transforming salt, light, and leaven that opens up a way for the reign of God to take hold of this world. It is particularly in this third dimension of the Church as a movement that we can grasp the mission.
Co-responsibility in the Gospels
At this point, I think it would be helpful to move back to the Gospels and rediscover co-responsibility in mission there, at the very beginnings of the Church. Several years ago, I saw something in the Gospels that I had not previously noticed. In all four Gospels—in different ways—almost as soon as Jesus calls his disciples, he makes them sharers in his mission and ministry. From the very beginning, Jesus calls and forms his followers as co-responsible with him in his own mission. I do not think we can over-emphasize this extraordinary pattern which establishes our own call and mission. Let me offer a couple of examples.
Notice what happens near the beginning of Mark’s Gospel, when Jesus calls his disciples. It is not simply a call to follow him but a call to share with him in his extraordinary mission. This passage is taken from Mark 3:13-15, and, by the way, it was a favorite of Pope Benedict XVI, who wrote about it as a theologian and cited it with some frequency in his preaching:
Jesus went up the mountain and called to him those whom he wanted, and they came to him. And he appointed twelve whom he also named apostles, to be with him and to be sent out to proclaim the message and to have authority to cast out demons.
Notice a few important elements of this passage. “He called to him those whom he wanted”: it is by grace that they are called. “And they came to him”: they must freely respond to that graced call. And the purpose of this call? It is twofold: to be with him (disciples, followers, companions) and to be sent out (in mission). That mission is the very same one that Jesus embraces and enacts in his life: to proclaim the message—the kingdom of God is at hand, repent and believe in the Good News—and to have authority to cast out demons, which in Mark’s context encompasses the great work of reconciliation, healing, and transformation.
A similar call and sending/sharing in Jesus’s mission occurs in Luke’s Gospel in chapter five. And this was a favorite passage of Pope St. John Paul II, who cited it as he became pope. There is a miraculous catch of fish that stirs a sense of amazement, fear, and unworthiness among these early disciples. Having called them and now sensing their reluctance, he speaks to Peter but really to all of them.
Then Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid, from now on you will be catching people.” When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.
Again, notice how from the very beginning of the public ministry of Jesus, he gathers his disciples, calls them to follow him, and then shares with them the mission that has been entrusted to him.
These Scripture passages are so important. They tell us that co-responsibility in the mission is not our invention. It comes to us from the Lord who began his ministry by calling disciples and making them responsible with him in the mission. And it is not only at the beginning of his ministry that he shares the mission. The Gospels recount many times how Jesus involved his followers in the unfolding of his mission. Take, for example, chapter ten of Matthew’s Gospel. Commentators have described it as a kind of missionary handbook for the early Church. It collects sayings of Jesus about the mission that his disciples are to carry out. Notice the very beginning of chapter ten:
Then Jesus summoned his twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to cure every disease and every sickness (Matt 10:1).
You see how what the disciples were to do was exactly what Jesus had been doing. They share in a common mission.
The Common Mission
This takes us to a next step in our reflection, and that is a consideration of the mission. What exactly is the mission for which disciples share a co-responsibility with the Lord and with each other?
The general contours of Jesus’s mission, the mission that we share co-responsibly with him and each other, are clear enough in the Gospels. He proclaimed the coming and the closeness of God’s kingdom, and coupled with that proclamation he summoned those who want to be a part of the kingdom to repent or be converted and believe in this Good News. As the kingdom or reign of God takes hold of the world, it signaled in the deepest possible transformations, for example, from sickness to health, from sin to merciful forgiveness, from injustice to justice, from hostile alienation and division to peaceful reconciliation, from indifference to compassion and love, and from death to life. Jesus’s particular teachings, healings, and exorcisms are the activities that manifest in particular ways the general contours of his mission or purpose. Peter preaching in the home of Cornelius gives a summary of the mission in action:
Then Peter began to speak to them: “I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him. You know the message he sent to the people of Israel, preaching peace by Jesus Christ—he is the Lord of all. That message spread throughout Judea, beginning in Galilee after the baptism that John announced: how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power; how he went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him. We are witnesses to all that he did both in Judea and in Jerusalem. They put him to death by hanging him on a tree; but God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear, not to all the people but to us who were chosen by God as witnesses, and who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead. He commanded us to preach to the people and to testify that he is the one ordained by God as judge of the living and the dead. All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name (Acts 10:34-43).
I cite this passage at length, because it captures both Jesus carrying on his mission and his disciples—through their testimony—continuing that mission. Notice, however, that although their mission closely follows that of Jesus in its basic direction, it has its own specificity in light of new circumstances and new experiences. Peter’s discourse takes place in the house of Cornelius, who is described earlier as “a centurion of the Italian cohort” (10:1)—in other words, a Gentile. This community of faith, these followers of Jesus, are coming to terms with a mission that must necessarily widen their horizons to incorporate those who are not Jews. The mission has a fundamental and unchanging core, but it also develops. This is extraordinarily instructive for us today.
If we take co-responsibility for the mission today, we must build, of course, on the enduring mission of Jesus Christ. At the same time, each generation will carry on that mission in a time- and context-specific way. Co-responsibility in the mission means identifying what shape the perennial mission of Jesus Christ takes in our circumstances. But how exactly do we arrive at that identification?
Because this is a work of the Spirit, we will not come to understand the nature of our co-responsible mission just by applying our minds and power of analysis. What is called for here is discernment. That is a process of discovery rooted in close attention and listening. The truth or shape of the mission will emerge not as a product of our reasoning but as given by the Lord. Discernment as the discovery of where the Spirit is leading us in mission requires our attention and listening: in contemplating God’s word, in listening to each other, and in watching the experiences of our sisters and brothers who are in need of the saving power of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The recent synod’s conversations in the Spirit are an example of this kind of attentive listening to discover the movement of God that clarifies our mission in our time and circumstances.
As we claim co-responsibility in the mission and as we discern and discover the shape of that God-given mission, what sustains us, the people of God? Some things are clear: contact with the Word of God, the sacramental life of worship, and our life together in community. I would also add to these resources a retrieval of our history, our holy memory, that encompasses our tradition not only evident in what we have believed across time but also in the lives of holy men and women who have gone before us.
This memory of the past for future mission relies in a particular way on the bishops and priests of the Church who have the task of reminding the Church of its legacy. This memory of the past for future mission also relies on an exercise of imagination. We do not simply replay the past, or, at least, we ought not to. What we have been given should stir our imaginations and creativity as we go into the future. This imaginative-creative task belongs to the charismatic side of Church life. If the hierarchy have a special responsibility to remind us of our Holy Tradition, then the women and men who are engaged in daily life and in bringing the salt, light, and leaven of the Gospel into the world need to imagine new ways of doing that.
The Mission in Concreto
At this point, permit me to shift gears a bit. Perhaps what I have said so far has an abstract or theoretical ring to it. The fact is that co-responsibility in mission is quite specific and concrete. I mentioned earlier that we are not dealing with an entirely new reality. In so many ways, it is a matter of rediscovery. Some of the movements of the twentieth century inspired by Cardinal Cardijn anticipated what we and the synodal process mean by co-responsibility in mission. I would like to speak from my own experience.
In the late 70s and through most of the 80s, I met and helped a Christian Family Movement group of about a dozen couples in one of our Chicago suburbs, a rather affluent suburb. We met regularly, prayed, talked, listened, and tried as best we could to move forward. In a general way, we followed the method of “observe, judge, and act.” The group did not depend on me as the priest to tell them what to do. I served as a resource, a kind of reminder, as I mentioned earlier. On occasion, I directed them to relevant Scripture or Church teaching. But the process was in their hands. And the material of their dialogues or conversations was their experience in the world and a clearer determination of how they could shape their Christian commitment in life as they found it.
Across the years, obviously, we spoke of many things. I would like to point out four challenges as examples of the participants taking hold of their responsibility in extending the mission of Jesus Christ in the world.
First, the participants were relatively affluent as successful business people and professionals. They were clearly conscious of their “privileged” positions in society. But faith prompted them not simply to stay content and parked in those positions. Dialogue followed about how to share and achieve a better distribution of material goods. Their connection with a poor parish in Chicago’s inner city kept them grounded in this mission.
A second example. The participants in this CFM group were politically aware and many of them active in politics. They were both Republicans and Democrats—and this was a time when people of different parties actually spoke with each other! Obviously, they had different takes on policy directions, but they had a common faith and set of values. They struggled and tried to discern how to link what they believed as followers of Jesus Christ and how that faith might inform particular decisions.
A third example. The suburb where they lived had a significant Jewish population. They discovered and were troubled by a strong current of anti-Semitism in their community. They spent time observing what was happening, determining in light of the Gospel what they could do, and tried to do it. Observe, judge, act.
A fourth and final example. Many of the participants were business people who were responsible for significant numbers of workers. In the light of faith, they tried to determine not only what it meant to be a good manager but what it meant to be a good leader, who led people with compassion and justice, especially in an environment that often framed labor and management in adversarial terms—which are wholly unacceptable in the context of the Gospel.
I hope these examples offer some specificity and concreteness to this notion of co-responsibility in mission. This is a sacred task that links our sharing in the mystery of Jesus Christ with the stuff of everyday life. It is crucial.
