From Trust to Trust
"Trust" is the starting point of evangelization -- so how do you evangelize when your own trust is fragile at best?
This morning I watched the press conference announcing the new bishop of Charleston, SC, my home diocese. Going into it, I knew of Fr. Jacques Fabre only what a manic scouring of the internet could cough up in the few short hours between my seeing the press release and the start of the livestreamed introduction. Now that I’ve watched it, those who know me closely will know that I can’t help but be absolutely charmed by our bishop-elect.
That’s good, I think. Of course he’s human, and so am I. Sooner or later we’ll give each other something to complain about. But it’s nice to just like somebody, even if it’s only a stranger on TV. It’s a good feeling. We’re made to love and be loved, so the experience of liking is good for us.
Also, since my return to the Church in late ‘90’s, I’ve seen an awful lot go down. I’ve learned about terrible crimes committed by major leaders in the US church; I’ve heard from Catholics and former-Catholics who’ve been deeply wounded by assaults on their faith from within the church, often coming at times when they were most vulnerable; and as someone who spent a lot of years active in parish ministry, I’ve seen the sausage get made. Even when nothing all-that-bad is happening, parish and diocesan life are still rife with the realities of sinful, imperfect humanity trying to do good even when “not half bad” is the best we can say about ourselves.
It’s a tough situation. Years ago, a close friend and ardent disciple confided that he was struggling to evangelize in his own community because he didn’t feel he had a parish he could trust with the formation of new or aspiring Catholics. I think that’s changed for him since then, in part through his own years and years of prayer, fasting, and perseverance in ministry.
The “thresholds of discipleship” are a model that helps us understand the experience of conversion. What we call “trust” is the necessary first step. In this model, we don’t mean by “trust” an all-encompassing, rock-solid, follow-you-anywhere confidence in God and His church. We mean by “trust” only a bare-minimum of willingness to believe it’s possible the Catholic faith offers something of value.
A bridge of trust could be:
Someone we know. A colleague, a neighbor, or a family member who is a faithful Catholic and who seems like a good person. Maybe this person cared for you when no else did.
An institution. You had a good experience at the Catholic hospital, or you were helped out by the food pantry, or you’ve read about a parish fundraising for a cause dear to your heart.
A feeling. You visited a historic church on vacation and felt calm and peace as you paced the ancient stone floors. When you’re stressed you listen to your chant playlist, and though you can’t understand a word of it, it helps you let go of your anxiety. You don’t think of yourself as religious, but nothing says Christmas like cramming into the pews for Midnight Mass.
It could be anything. It’s often small. You aren’t a believer, but you have found someone or something that makes you like the Catholic faith just enough to be in the same room with it.
Many practicing Catholics are operating at the level of “trust” even as they serve as parish leaders. For such stalwart parishioners, being Catholic is a source of great personal fulfillment.
Maybe that’s you. You might not be able to say that you have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior, but you do have a relationship with his Church.
If that’s where you are, it’s not a failure; it’s a necessary step in your on-going journey towards greater intimacy with God.
But sometimes, no matter where we are in our spiritual walk, even this minimal foundation of “trust” can be taken from us. People, even church people, sometimes do terrible things. If you see enough of that, suffer from enough of that, it will damage your ability to trust others.
Even if you remain absolutely steadfast in your faith, loss of trust in the institutions and people of the church is alienating and isolating.
And yet you still have a mission. You still have a command from God to go and make disciples.
I suppose this is another reason prayer and fasting are the means by which evangelization happens.
I should note here: Sometimes our own sin is what does us in. It might be that you aren’t so much lost in mistrust of others, or not only that . . . Maybe you’re reeling from the undeniable evidence that you can’t even trust your own self.
There’s not a method or a process for getting your trust back.
By the grace of God when the floor of trust is pulled from under you, either you’ll spin off wildly into a time of searching and self-examination, or you’ll find yourself floating in the faith, held up by the Sacred Heart when you no longer have any human foundation to support you.
Either way, the best I have to suggest is that you allow God to transform and redeem that alienation and isolation. When the human stones of the church are crumbling around you, grasp desperately for God your loving Father, who wants to catch you. Let Him hold you. Let Him be your rescuer. You’re allowed to be helpless in His arms.
After that?
Just when you thought God was no longer able to use you to make disciples?
He’ll be able to use you to make disciples.