Catholics who enjoy foreign travel often comment on their delight in attending Mass in a foreign country, in its native language. It is a true mark of the Church’s catholicity that while the travelers do not know the language, they know what is happening. The simple gestures, rites and rubrics of the Mass connect travelers to the Church as if it is their home church.

This connectedness transcends differences in customs, culture and language. One simple but vivid image that portrays this connectedness is in the Exsultet, in reference to the paschal candle (many flames, one candle): “‘We know the praises of this pillar, which glowing fire ignites for God’s honor, a fire into many flames divided, yet never dimmed by sharing of its light.”

As the Exsultet is prayed on the Easter Vigil, parishioners stand there, holding their flickering candles taken from the one flame, which is still as bright as ever. A related image is the flame above the heads of the disciples on Pentecost. No matter how many people are filled with the Spirit, there is still Spirit to be poured out.

Then imagine all the places and people that the Pauls, Peters, Timothys, Tituses, Jameses and Johns visited as the early Church was founded. The more churches they planted did not diminish the churches that were already established.

The People of God stand during each Easter Vigil night holding the light of Christ and later professing, “one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church.”

While the word Catholic is professed, people too often are thinking parochial. Poll any diocese across the nation that is suppressing some of its parishes. “Catholic” may be accepted in theory as a mark of the Church, understood intellectually, but certainly often not lived in the moment. The phrase from the Exsultet is easily understood and praised when spreading the “church” not so much when suppressing churches.

A parochial mindset often supplants the mark of being Catholic. Parochialism, to be fair, is not new. Our ancestors in the apostolic age were already falling into it as well. Paul wrote to the Corinthians: “I urge you, brothers, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ … that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and in the same purpose. … Each of you is saying, ‘I belong to Paul,’ or ‘I belong to Apollos,’ or ‘I belong to Cephas,’ or ‘I belong to Christ’” (1 Cor 1:10-12).

When parishes are reorganized, unfortunately, it seems the thinking becomes, I will not belong to St. (fill in the blank) Church, naming the church that is only a mile away. Experiencing the church’s catholicity and oneness seems to be easier when traveling a thousand miles away, not so much a mile away. People are less likely to travel a few miles to a different church, which sings the same songs with the same instruments in the same language. Human nature, being what it is, at times in difficult times and bitterness, is expressed when lamenting, “Why are they able to stay open, and we don’t?”

So quickly and sadly, the meaning of that divided flame is not remembered as much. One moment the Church celebrates with grandeur at the vigil and professes its four marks weekly in the Nicene Creed, but in future circumstances in a particular time, the flame begins to dim.

As dioceses suppress churches, adopting the practice of the Catholic Church when a whole diocese is even suppressed might present some wisdom to consider. Suppressed dioceses are kept alive by assigning that diocese to a newly ordained bishop when he is not yet an ordinary. He is asked to pray for, and to, the people who were in that diocese, even though long deceased. The practice keeps that diocese, its history and tradition, its flame of faith still flickering in the heart of that newly ordained bishop.

This tradition and connection between titular churches and an auxiliary bishop might be considered appropriate for a newly ordained priest. The priest could be given the name of a parish that was recently suppressed, inviting him to pray for the parishioners who lost their church and feel as if they lost some of their faith, too. The prayers for them might keep that flame of faith alive in their hearts, never to be extinguished, no matter where they might worship. 

FATHER PATRICK CARRION is pastor of five parishes in East Baltimore, Maryland, and director of the Office of Cemetery Management for the Archdiocese of Baltimore.