There was a gargantuan Eucharistic procession through New York City a few days ago, led by a bishop and joined by hundreds of habited sisters and clergy in flowing vestments, replete with candles and incense and song, and followed by thousands of lay people. It was immense.
I love Eucharistic processions—not because they trigger some kind of fond nostalgia for the good old days (how old do you think I am?), but because it is literally Jesus and people following him. What’s not to love?
Plenty, it turns out. I found out about the procession by scrolling through social media, and then instantly found out how many people didn’t like it.
Let me pause here and say that I don’t know much of the context of the procession. It was, I gather, organized by the Napa Institute as part of the National Eucharistic Revival. I have been avoiding learning very much about either the Napa Institute or the Eucharistic Revival because every time these topics come up, people start getting nasty. I’m a slow student, but one thing I’ve finally learned is that Jesus and nastiness do not mix. If I can’t stop being a jerk, at the very least I can try not to be a jerk to people about Jesus. So I stay away from certain conversations. I have made a choice to de-contextualize certain spiritual things. This means I’m less well-informed about some current events, but my prayer life is stronger, and I’m okay with that trade-off.
That being said, I was taken aback by just how mad people were about this Eucharistic procession. I like processions so much, I guess I naively assumed everybody did. I had forgotten that sometimes, people use processions as a power move, as sorties in the culture war. Apparently, people will sometimes organize a Eucharistic procession as a way of saying “This is the old school church, and we’re taking back this space from you filthy modernists” or ”suck it, secularists; we’re gonna stop traffic and you’re gonna take it” or . . . something. And that is not very Christlike.
And I gather that some people objected to the procession because it strikes them as tone-deaf for the church to do something so showy and ceremoniously, publicly pious while several dioceses in New York state have filed bankruptcy because of lawsuits from victims of sex abuse by priests; but there they go, walking by slowly in their pretty white robes. So if you look at it in a certain light, you might think, “Why are these rape apologists who have dug themselves so deep into such an ugly hole getting dressed up in fancy clothes and parading slowly through the streets with candles and music, as if they have anything to be proud of?”
Read the rest of my latest for America Magazine.
Thank you, this is really a beautiful reflection. You’re absolutely right that it’s as simple as following Jesus. I think the past several years have brought plenty of reasons for all of us to ask why we’re in the Church despite this that or the other thing and He is the only reason. If He is literally on the altar, how can I go anywhere else?
Incidentally, your profound spiritual point is helped by your practical example of avoiding internet chatter when necessary!
I came here for your Friday food post but really appreciated this one.
Not gonna lie. I’m the first one to be irritated by a traffic blocking procession of any kind. Don’t know if they blocked off a section of 5th Avenue for this one, but man oh man, if they did, I couldn’t fault any NYers for getting a little salty.
On the other hand, in the small nearby city of norristown, the Hispanic immigrants there often have religious posadas which require some small detours. Those blockades are not nearly so bothersome, as traffic still flows pretty smoothly, just slightly more circuitously.