Great discoveries often happen by chance. It was Sunday, Jan. 19, 1986, the beginning of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. It also happened to be my first pulpit exchange at the neighboring Evangelical Lutheran Church.

The path to what would eventually lead me to a key awakening in my life began even sooner when I arrived at my new parish assignment at St. Christine Church six months prior. The pastor informed me that I was to be the parish representative of the local Ecumenical Ministerial Association. That role charged me with all ecumenical concerns — whatever that meant. I had only been ordained a short six years and, as a young priest, had no real experience or formal training in ecumenical concerns or activity. Let’s face it, ecumenism, this movement toward Christian unity, was a profane word before the Second Vatican CouncilI. Even though I fashioned myself a student of Vatican II, I still had no idea what ecumenism was all about. But that January morning in a Lutheran church, I dove head first into the experience.

In essence, I was thrust into the same exploration the Church undertook with the Vatican II ecumenical document and interfaith declaration, Unitatis Redintegratio (“Restoration of Unity”) and Nostra Aetate (“In Our Times),” respectively. As a Church, we were thrust with little direction and even less know-how into a movement that would strive to bring us closer to the great prayer of Jesus recorded in John 17:21, “That they may all be one.”

Who would have thought that, when I was charged with the role of parish representative on that local ministerial association, I would be a partner in a great movement of the Church, one which would lead me to a lifelong passion for ecumenical attitudes and interfaith dialogue?

Preparation and Preaching

To this day, I can still remember how nervous I was when I first entered the Lutheran church that winter day for my first pulpit exchange. The Gospel that Sunday was the wedding feast at Cana. What would a Catholic priest say that was relevant to a Lutheran community? I didn’t want to be inappropriate or insensitive, and I was always taught that, in preaching, one had to grab the congregation’s attention from the start. As a result, and in preparation, I thought and prayed for guidance. I began my homily by welcoming the Blessed Mother into the local Lutheran church, knowing it was a gamble. But I wanted to grab their attention, and I’m certain I did just that. After all, she was part of the Cana story that we just read and heard seconds before. She turned to Jesus in that hour of need on behalf of the bride and groom and the wedding guests.

Similarly, I thought that she could turn our attention to what was important in the Gospel story. But immediately, when I mentioned her name, I could sense an uneasiness among the congregation. Talking about Mary and the saints was not the way I should have started. That gut feeling was made clear when a gentleman approached me after the service, remarking, “As soon as you mentioned Mary, I turned you off.” His disapproval threw me to my knees. In later years, I would recall words of the late French Dominican and theologian Yves Congar: “The way through the door of unity is on our knees.”

Lessons Learned

That pulpit exchange taught me many things. First and foremost, I came to learn the fundamental lesson that ecumenism is not necessarily about changing someone’s heart — it’s about changing your own heart. It is the human heart in all of us that needs to be changed when we engage in ecumenical activity and interfaith dialogue.

Second, I learned that I needed to take a good look at my local church and parish. Remember that togetherness is not so much a matter of organization as it is of spirit and attitude. But that doesn’t mean that we all have to agree, or that we all have to think or look alike. It means that we accept one another and respect one another for our differences. Is my local church and parish living out the spirit of togetherness or am I contributing to the existing brokenness? This is a question that I regularly ponder.

Third, I gained an understanding that I have to be concerned with the universal Church and the world, which represents the biggest challenge. How do we begin and where do we start? Jesus seemed to think that prayer was a good starting point, and I wholeheartedly agree. Remember that prayer changes hearts, and it is also vital for Christian unity. That is the main reason we celebrate this Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, so that the Lord Jesus’ great prayer to the Father may be answered. Even though his prayer has not yet been answered, we must pray regularly for Christian unity. I am certain that Jesus’ great prayer for unity will be answered in God’s own time and in God’s own way.

Personal Experience

In addition to these key lessons, that day’s experience began my journey of ecumenical attitudes and interfaith dialogue which has spanned the 45 years of my priesthood. My association with members of the Protestant, Orthodox and Jewish communities has been a blessing, and, like a beacon, have led me to discoveries both in my faith and within myself.

By recognizing that Christian unity must begin with my own life, I now work every day to embrace it. A major emphasis of the ministry and life of Jesus was that he helped people, not all at once, but one at a time. That’s how I, too, must approach ecumenism and interfaith activity, working with my ecumenical and interfaith partners — one at a time. Let’s face it, there is a brokenness and a divide in the world community that needs to be addressed. We need to commit to healing that which divides us, one congregation at a time, and one person at a time. But to truly heal the Christian community of its brokenness, one must first look within.

Throughout my priesthood, I have been attempting to do just that, navigating a daily journey of faith while striving for ecumenical and interfaith honesty. I have tried to put at the forefront of my thoughts and prayers Jesus’ words that all may be one. That message represents the ongoing struggle of a divided world amid Jesus’ grand plan that his Church is a lasting symbol of people united in faith and love. Achieving that unity is rooted in a culture of mutual respect and a level of trust. Most importantly, it also involves listening to one another. Only in that environment can the kingdom of God advance.

With that knowledge in mind, and as I continue my faith journey, I often return to that Sunday morning in 1986, specifically to the gentleman who expressed dissatisfaction with my mere mention of Mary. It was what he said right after, though, that was most impactful. He indicated that once he began to listen to what I had to say, he was drawn into my homily and appreciated my words. That is the core of ecumenical activity and interfaith dialogue. In essence, if we close our ears, we can never hear with our hearts.

There is beauty and power in unity — if only we choose to listen.

FATHER JAMES KORDA is president emeritus of Catholic Television Network of Youngstown and the radio host of the podcast “Wineskins.”