In “The Joy of the Gospel” Pope Francis speaks about what he calls “the informal preaching which takes place in the middle of a conversation, something along the lines of what a missionary does when visiting a home” (No. 127). Inside every conversation, there is the opportunity to proclaim the Gospel and to teach as Jesus did.

Not too long ago I had a conversation with a family member. We were talking about Sunday Mass. Now, please know that I do not view myself as the liturgical police, especially with family. I was not looking for “proof” that they attended holy Mass. My motives were honest and pure. I was simply trying to make conversation with someone who I know deeply loves Jesus and the Church. When I asked them what Mass they attended on the most recent Sunday, the family member said, “Oh, we watched Mass on livestream this past weekend.”

When I asked them why they did not go to Church for an in-person Mass, they said, “We were busy.”

I humbly mentioned that since the pandemic is over, these Masses, which were such a blessing during the time that our churches were closed, do not fulfill one’s obligation to attend Sunday or holy day Mass.

The family member said, “But Dave, it was so moving.”

I replied by saying, “What could be more moving than being with a community in God’s house and receiving our Lord Jesus in the holy Eucharist?” I tried to convey the fact that our faith is a communal faith centered on Jesus and that the Church obligates us to attend holy Mass so that we are led and fed accordingly. While these virtual Masses remain a blessing for the sick and shut-ins, they do not suffice for those who are well.

I suspect that perhaps you might have had similar conversations in which family members or parishioners have spoken about the convenience and “moving” aspects of these televised Masses, now available at any time from ecclesial venues throughout the world. The fact of the matter is that even while our churches are open and offer an array of Mass times, some of our faithful are choosing to remain in the comforts of their home for Sunday Mass. This certainly adds a whole new sense to “roaming Catholics.” It is not just churches that have become the object of this roaming, but it is now websites and channels. Technology has its advantages, but there is nothing quite like being present in the real moment.

As I continue to reflect upon what I thought was a benign conversation with a family member, I have come to see the revelatory nature of that moment. More and more, it seems we live in a culture driven by busyness. Thomas Merton once described busyness as a form of violence. But what is more important than God and the Sabbath? Is the issue really busyness as much as it might be misplaced priorities that have rendered us idolatrous and higher than God himself?

I think that there is more to unpack and understand here. Sadly, it seems our culture is driven more by convenience and less by commitment. Years ago, when I was the director of vocations, I remember my predecessor saying, “We don’t have a vocation crisis, we have a commitment crisis.” I believe that there is indeed a commitment crisis, but it is centered on a convenience crisis in which the “me” is winning out over the “we,” “us” and “ours.”

What I find most unsettling in this is that the whole sense of belonging to a community is subtly slipping away. Our faith is indeed a communal faith. Jesus said, “Where two or three gather in my name, there am I in the midst of them” (Mt 18:20). The pandemic is over, but unfortunately the social distancing from God and one another continues.

The Book of Genesis, describing the story of creation, notes that God rested on the seventh day. As Catholics, it is our custom to not only rest on the seventh day but also to do this together in God’s house, where we come together as brothers and sisters to hear God’s Word and receive the holy Eucharist.