Among the many news articles about Pope Francis’ death and funeral, one caught my attention.  At first, the author seemed to be one of those people who look backward nostalgically to past events in their lives; he wrote about how the pageantry and ritual of the papal funeral reminded him of attending Sunday Mass as a child. 

At the point I was losing interest in the author’s nostalgic remembrances, he shifted his focus to the perceived tension between the sacred and the profane.  He noted that while the precise ritual of the papal funeral was being guided skillfully by the Master of Ceremonies, a random smattering of sunglasses was observed among the prelates in attendance.  I thought he might continue in that vein of romanticized dualism, but he changed course again.   

He observed that the slightly disorientating mixture of ritual, individual preference, congregational participation, and spectatorship was an apt tribute to Pope Francis.  During his pontificate, Francis made significant efforts to embrace all people and all aspects of human existence.  Among his notable initiatives, he redirected the funds from the annual Peter’s Pence collection to their original purpose of caring for the poor in the Archdiocese of Rome. 

Having avoided near misses with nostalgia and romanticism, the author then indulged in a little hero worship.  He remarked about how appropriate it was that Francis’ coffin was dwarfed by the imposing structure of Santa Maria Maggiore where he was to be buried; he saw in this a reminder of Francis’ humility.  Almost lost among the author’s musings was a grain of truth that transcends both the commonness of death and the spectacle of Vatican liturgies.  The author observed that those who disapproved of Francis’ statements and actions were more likely to look at religion as a strategy for coping with a chaotic world rather than as a commitment to worship God. 

I would expand the author’s observation to include most of those who appreciated Francis’ statements and actions, as well.  Religion is often used as a coping strategy and, in some regards, this is a legitimate use of religious practice.  Today’s Gospel reading is an example of religion being used to cope with an intractable problem. 

As I mentioned on Holy Thursday, the church communities associated with John’s Gospel were founded by those disciples of Jesus who did not abandon or deny him when he was arrested and crucified.  Those few faithful disciples considered the faithlessness of the Twelve to be a personal affront to themselves as well as a rejection of Jesus.  They struggled to be reconciled with the church communities founded by the Twelve because they were so reluctant to trust anything that the Twelve did or said. 

Today’s Gospel reading comes from the second ending of the Gospel, an ending composed by a member of John’s community who edited the Gospel several years after it was composed.  This extended narrative of post-resurrection stories attempted, among other things, to rehabilitate the reputations of Peter and the Eleven.  In today’s reading, Jesus nullifies the effects of Peter’s three-fold denial by having Peter make a three-fold proclamation of loyalty. 

For the community of John’s Gospel, this episode functioned as the legitimate use of religion as a strategy to cope with a serious problem, namely, a long-standing grievance.  In order for religious practice to be faithful religious practice, however, there must be a great deal more to it than mere attempt to cope with difficulties. 

Coping with struggle, stress, offence, or harm is an activity that is fully temporal and ephemeral.  Coping is necessary but finite.  Faithful religion, on the other hand, is worship of the One, True God who transcends both good and bad created things.  These two distinct acts are often confused with one another, and for an understandable reason. 

Evil and created good occur as the result of the physical laws that govern the universe; because of this, they are unpredictable, and they lie outside human control.  Uncreated Good lies outside human control, as well.  The randomness of the universe can be confused with the sovereignty of God but, when this happens, neither the sacred nor the profane make sense any longer.  When faced with this senselessness, religious practice degenerates into nostalgia, superstition, or a quest to satisfy one’s self-serving desires. 

Faithful worship of God is distinguished from other uses of religion by its lack of a result separate from itself.  Coping results in a more peaceful life.  Gratitude for created good results in a sense of well-being.  Faithful worship, on the other hand, results in nothing other than faithful worship.  Faithful worship of the One, True God is an act that has intrinsic value.  The value of the other uses of religion, by comparison, are extrinsic; they have a conditional existence just like the created existence of all other things in the world. 

The primary and fundamental reason that we gather on Sunday is to worship God.  If you find Sunday worship to be consoling, it should be so.  I’m sure that Peter and the Apostles found it very consoling to share breakfast with Jesus after his resurrection. (Jn 21:12) 

If your participation in Sunday Liturgy helps you cope with the demands of life, there is no better coping strategy.  In the Gospel reading, Peter was given a way to cope with his betrayal of Jesus and the community of John’s Gospel was given a way to cope with Peter’s unreliable behavior. (Jn 21:15-19) 

If you find, however, that your religious practice rises no higher than your personal daily agenda of encountering created good and avoiding evil, your religious practice falls so far short of the goal as to be pointless. 

The purpose of faithful religion lies infinitely above both consolation and avoidance of evil.  The community of John’s Gospel knew this and struggled to forgive the evil done by Peter and the Eleven because there is no other legitimate reason to forgive than one’s faith in the God who is above the world.  That community found resolution to a situation that seemed unforgiveable because they started at a place infinitely above consolation and grievance.  

You might be struggling with something today; everyone else is, as well.  You might have something to be grateful for today; everyone should have.  If you’ve come here only for those reasons, you’re wasting your time because the primary purpose of worship is to waste time, not on oneself, but in God’s company.