And make time for others.
And make time for others.
S top. Listen. Pray. Make time for God.
A Nigerian priest was giving a weekday sermon at a suburban church in New Jersey. The kind of church, architecturally, that doesn’t do much to inspire meditation. Beauty can draw us out of ourselves and the busyness of our lives. But, with screens everywhere, we can easily miss it. Sometimes a baby must cry for us to realize what a gift we are in the presence of. New life. Innocence. Wonder. The priest knew that what he was insisting on was countercultural — or perhaps he wouldn’t have bothered. And I probably wasn’t the only one on my phone at the time. (If you weren’t checking your messages, you had your digital missal, or another prayer app, open.)
It’s not breaking news that a priest was encouraging people to pray. But he may have caught my attention because of where he is from. Sure, Nigeria has many Catholic priests who essentially become missionaries to the United States, where we have a shortage in most dioceses. But many Nigerian priests also know that they may wind up as martyrs, killed simply for being who they are — nothing more courageous than that. We in the West tend to ignore Christians’ persecution in Nigeria because it’s a downer. We feel powerless when we learn about something we feel we can’t do anything about, and it simply adds to our burdens. But what if their courage inspired you? What if their love for Christ stirred something within you about your own faith, whatever you may believe?
Perhaps we are too busy calling out other people for hypocrisy — all sorts of recent scandals come to mind — but many, if not most of us, aren’t exactly who we say we are — or aspire to be. We often fail to keep our promises or vows. I remember one priest at a landmark church in the Northeast who frequently suggested that all was well with the souls of those present because they were at Mass. Um. I’m a Christian because I’m a sinner in need of a Savior. I hope he was pointing out the obvious to see who was awake early in the morning.
As the Nigerian priest got me to put my phone away, at least for most of the remainder of Mass, I felt an added pang of guilt. He mentioned Pope Leo’s name during the Eucharistic prayer (it’s a standard part of the prayer), and I remembered something the pope had said recently, which I had conveniently put aside. Leo went to the papal summer residence, reviving a tradition that had fallen away under Francis. I suspect that the man didn’t take time off — he is still new on the job, after all — but he did a favor to the local economy that has long relied on papal-watching tourism. While he was there, he told everyone else to take time off in the summer. Nice for a man with staff to say: I may not have been alone in thinking this as I went back to work and stewed about things beyond my control when I should have been sleeping.
As you might expect from a religious leader, he didn’t merely suggest that you take your family to Disneyland:
During the summer, we have more free time in which to gather our thoughts and reflect, and also to travel and spend time with each other. Let us make good use of this, by leaving behind the whirlwind of commitments and worries in order to savor a few moments of peace, of reflection, taking time as well to visit other places and share in the joy of seeing others.
It may be easy to dismiss this if you cannot take time off or are already getting kids ready to go back to school. But the pope also suggested something else, something not as easy to push aside:
Let us make summer an opportunity to care for others, to get to know each other and to offer advice and a listening ear, for these are expressions of love, and that is something we all need. Let us do so with courage. In this way, through solidarity,” Pope Leo said, “in the sharing of faith and life, we will help to promote a culture of peace, helping those around us to overcome divisions and hostility and to build communion between individuals, peoples and religions.
Overcoming hostility and divisions. That’s not happening on my phone. That’s not happening by my watching another half hour of Fox News or MSNBC — or The Daily Show, for that matter, during which Jon Stewart simply conducts a choir in a chorus of the f-word. (Stephen Colbert drives me crazy, too. I am fairly sure that he knows there is more to life than being angry about politics, but his show just adds fuel to the fire.) Leo presented summer downtime as an opportunity for human encounter, which is a choice, regardless of whether we have long weekends available to us. There are probably people in all of our lives whom we neglect during most of the year. These people may not be our responsibility, but they may also offer joy or hope or inspiration.
Leo also emphasized the necessity of “meditating on the Word of God and listening to what the Holy Spirit is saying to our hearts.” To do this:
We should set aside moments of silence, moments of prayer, times in which, quieting noise and distractions, we recollect ourselves before God in simplicity of heart. This is a dimension of the Christian life that we particularly need to recover today, both as a value for individuals and communities, and as a prophetic sign for our times.
Again, we would be concerned if a priest didn’t say these things. But you may be reading this in a café with music blaring, about to click or swipe to something else. Stop. Listen — including for the miracle of silence. Pray. Make time for God. Take a break and make time for others. If we’re not going to do it now, we may never.
This column is based on one available through Andrews McMeel Universal’s Newspaper Enterprise Association.