My non-Christian friend, (let’s call him Harry), sat me down in a charming Roman pizzeria. Not until a steaming margherita pizza was set before me did I realize how hungry I was.
Engrossed in my plate, I didn’t really tune into Harry’s reflection until he said, “Yeah, I admire Jesus, the man, but institutions like the Church are not my thing. Man-made institutions”—he said this word like kids say vegetables—“tend to depart from their roots over time. I don’t need them. I’m only interested in the original Jesus.”
Suddenly, I set down the slice. How could I make my friend hungry for Christianity?
My knee-jerk reaction was to address the logical inconsistencies of his objection. As he picked up his pizza, I began:
“But, Harry, it doesn’t make any sense to cast aside the institute for love of the instituter. When Jesus said, ‘Do this in memory of me,’ he intentionally instituted the priesthood which would perpetuate the gift of the Eucharist. Plus, Jesus solemnly declared—Amen, amen, I say to you—that on the Rock, Peter, he would build his Church. Remember? You can’t cling to Christ in one breath and oust the institution he so desired in the next.”
But Harry was more interested in his pepperoni than my logic, and I could hardly blame him. After all, it wasn’t a syllogism that made me a Christian. I would have to appeal now to his appetite. So I tried again:
“What is our vision of God, Harry? Is he locked up in the distant past, out of reach? Am I to believe that he cared so much just for a small batch of men, who happened to live around Jerusalem two millennia ago? Does he who loved them so passionately have no interest in the rest of us?”
I could see from the look in his eye and the fire in my heart that my words were having more of an impact. Encouraged, I went on:
“Who is this Jesus? He wanted to draw close to his first followers so badly that he came down from heaven. To them he preached that the Kingdom of heaven was now here. For them he “eagerly desired” to become their Paschal lamb (Lk 22:15). For them he returned from the shadows of death that they might have a new life in him. Is this the kind of person who simply abandons human history, satisfied with a job well done?”
Our pizza sat on our plates, getting cold. Harry seemed to want to hear more.
“God cares about us here and now! He wants to live inside me just as he lived inside his mother Mary. In the Eucharist, the Bread of Life, he does! But if there is no Church, no priesthood, no institution (that word!), then how will his burning desire to draw all men to himself be realized? The Church, Harry, is simply the prolongation of his Incarnation throughout history; it makes the King present here and now to all who embrace him in faith!”
My friend smiled at me. He told me that he admired me for my conviction and that if one day he found himself with my same faith, I would be the first to know.
Satisfied with Harry’s baby step in the right direction, that nibble at the banquet of faith, we turned to our tepid pizza. Hopefully next time he’ll want the main course. If I am not there to make him hungry, I hope you will.
I have friends and extended family with the same "institution" comments. Your blog gave me some tools for when I don't know how to respond. As Catholic's, we tend to accept our faith on face value and I don't spend much time questioning certain aspects. I forget that what I believe isn't the same as others. Your responses were clear and concise yet charitable. im a convert and I know that it can take time to absorb all the facets of Christ's church but when we get it, its a beautiful thing!
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