by Msgr. Joseph Calise
I LIVE IN Williamsburg, which is an exciting neighborhood.
As pastor of the Shrine Church of Our Lady of Mount Carmel and administrator of the Church of the Annunciation, I have the opportunity to watch the incredible merge of cultures that is taking place daily. Of course, there is the old guard – there are those whose families have been part of this neighborhood for over a century. Mount Carmel is well known for the summer feast in honor of Our Lady of Mount Carmel and St. Paulinus, the patron of Nola, Italy. This feast is highlighted by the dancing of the giglio in re-enactment of the return of the saint to his homeland and the welcome of his people. The giglio has been danced in the streets of Williamsburg for over 100 years. But that is not where the old-town charm of this neighborhood ends. The people of Teggiano celebrate their patron, St. Cono, and the faithful with roots in Fontana Rosa have their celebration of La Madonna di Misericordia.
A church as historic as Annunciation brings its own celebrations. The long standing Lithuanian community celebrates both Our Lady of Siluva and St. Casimir in style, and there is no limit to the energy the Spanish-speaking community exudes in honor of Our Lady of Guadalupe.
There is a real Old World flavor into which a whole new culture is gentrifying. Moving in rapidly and in great numbers is a young, diverse population. Bedford Avenue becomes a great mixture of languages and styles. Where once people were afraid to walk after 8 p.m., there is music and laughter into the early morning hours. Street musicians and artists present their work with pride, and restaurants always have a special on the menu that reflects the talent of the chef.
This is a great place to live, but I am sure that you can imagine how challenging it is to evangelize to such diverse communities at the same time.
Outside of the Church, people get along surprisingly well. There is a deep respect and openness that some very different populations offer one another. There are occasional mistakes, but the atmosphere is generally peaceful. The challenge is bringing both groups together inside the Church. Many newcomers are not Catholic or even associated with any organized religion. They are not necessarily against it but often have simply never been taught what the Catholic Church, or any organized religion, holds to be true and salvific. The days of opening the Church doors and presuming the pews will be filled are gone. This neighborhood, like many others, has long-time faithful living side-by-side with others who simply do not know who or where we are.
The process of evangelization begins with going out to where the people are and inviting them to at least come and see. It does no good to complain to those in church that there are too many empty seats. Those who are there need to be empowered to go out and invite those whom the Lord loves so they can experience that love. Each of the faithful, nourished on the Eucharist, must see himself as a minister of the new evangelization by virtue of Baptism and Confirmation.
The Gospel offers three parables to illustrate this point: the lost coin, the lost sheep and the prodigal son. Aware of the value of a lost coin, a woman searches until she finds it and, finding it, rejoices. Knowing the value of the lost sheep, the shepherd searches until he finds it, puts it on his shoulders and carries it back to the flock triumphantly. They were joyful because something valuable and important was brought home.
The sadness of the Parable of the Prodigal Son is that the older brother cannot understand his father’s joy. He is so concerned about maintaining his own place in the family that he feels no joy at the return of his repentant brother. The contrast between the father’s joy and the older brother’s resistance becomes a lesson in evangelization. Who made the prodigal feel more welcome or, to be more precise in this case, more welcomed back? Was it the one who simply said, “You are valuable. You are loved. You are here. Let us rejoice,” or the one who pouted, “I am here. I have always been here. Why are you welcoming him?”
In the father’s house and heart, there was room for both. The only one we never see enter is the one who cannot welcome his brother.
Williamsburg is not unique to the diocese or to the city. Many neighborhoods are experiencing the influx of new cultures, attitudes and lifestyles, which brands them as changing, developing and gentrifying. There are valuable strangers in our midst. The Gospel message is clear. All of us who call any church our “home” are challenged to welcome, or welcome back, those who appear lost but are simply waiting to be found. Welcoming those loved by the Father can only make our joy more complete.[hr]
Readings for the 24th Sunday of Ordinary Time
Exodus 32: 7-11, 13-14
Psalm 51: 3-4, 12-13, 17, 19
1 Timothy 1: 12-17
Luke 15: 1-32 or
Luke 15: 1-10[hr]
Msgr. Joseph Calise is the pastor of Our Lady of Mount Carmel parish, Williamsburg.