The parish exists for mercy

Why does your parish exist? What is its purpose?

That’s a question I find myself asking a lot as vicar for evangelization, discipleship, and stewardship. The other day, I was explaining my job to some people, and in the middle of the conversation, I reached for an image that surprised even me: the Disney movie “Cars.” Do you remember that? It was a great show. For kids today, it probably feels like “Snow White” did for me: a movie that came out before they were even born.

Recall the beginning of the movie, when Lightning McQueen spins out, inadvertently leaves the road, and finds himself stuck in the mud. Then Mater the tow truck rolls up and says, “Dad-gum. I’ll get you out of there.” That’s it. No analysis. No lecture. No, “How did you manage to do this?” Just, “Dad-gum. I’ll get you out of there.”

Now, if we are honest, that is every one of us. At some point in life, we have all been stuck. Maybe it pertains to health. Maybe it is the loss of a job. Maybe it is something in the family. Maybe it is something interior, such as depression or isolation, something you cannot quite explain. And sometimes, if we are really honest, we are there because of our own choices. We drove ourselves into the ditch. Either way, we know what it feels like. And in those moments, we need someone.

So what is a parish supposed to be?

A parish is a community in which we are present to one another, such that when one of us is stuck, we help each other get unstuck. We become “Maters” for one another, throwing out the tow hook and pulling each other back onto the road.

Because here is the truth: In this crazy, mixed-up, messed-up world, we cannot do life alone. We are all on a road. We are all headed somewhere, ultimately Heaven. And we are traveling that road together. At some point, regardless of who is at fault, we are going to end up in the ditch.

That is why the parish exists: So that the thought, “I am alone,” never takes root.

Now, that raises another question. How is your parish doing? Is it gossipy? Backbiting? Cliquish? Judgmental? Or is it supportive, patient, attentive, and present? One of the ways the devil sidetracks a parish is by pitting people against each other. He creates that subtle sense that, “We are not for each other.”

But being “for” one another is deeply biblical. In the Acts of the Apostles, they shared life. They worshiped. They listened. They learned. But they also made sure that when someone was in need, that person was not left alone. They had each other’s backs. That is the point of a parish. A parish is meant to be a community that says, both in word and in action, “You are not alone.”

That does not mean anything goes. It does not mean people can refuse to grow or take responsibility. A car that keeps driving into the ditch probably needs recalibration. But for anyone willing to try, for anyone who wants to get unstuck, the parish is there.

And here is the deeper way to say all of this: A parish embodies mercy. It means we forgive. We let go of resentment. We do not lead with judgment. We do not rub people’s noses in their mistakes. Instead, we see someone stuck, and we respond: “How can I help? What do you need?” Or, maybe more simply, “Dad-gum. Let me get you out of there.”

That is what we need from each other.

So what is the purpose of a parish? A parish is a family that is for one another, an unspoken agreement that when one of us is stuck, the rest of us show up. On the road of life, heading toward Heaven, the parish exists for mercy.