‘Church’ within our church in pandemic

Who are your people? You know — your people who give of themselves to you, who are there for you and care for you — the people you thank God for placing in your life. Those people.

You may have several groups of “my people” and the reasons you are together are as diverse as your people are. Maybe hobbies, work, family, food or events brought you together. Maybe you struggle to recognize the unique moment you all came together because it all happened so naturally — a great gift from our very loving Father. He knows his children and their needs. (It is just one of many ways I think our Father God is simply wonderful. But I digress.)

He designed us to be together in community to love and to serve each other, to be present to one another and accompany each other on the journey.  We recognize the goodness and beauty of these connections and the richness and texture it brings to our lives.

I want you to meet my people — Cecelia, Carol, Clare, Fred and Joe (my husband) — an amazing group of people from my parish, Saint Maximilian Kolbe in Marmora. We met last fall as part of a parish initiative to create smaller communities within the parish. My husband and I spent most Friday nights trying to eat dinner and clean the house before our fellow parishioners arrived. Some weeks, the dusting was more important than the dinner. We planned Lent to have a similar rhythm.

No one could have predicted how important we would become to each other as the pandemic ran roughshod over the globe. Throughout the shelter-in-place and the closure of our churches, these lovely people were — and remain — my church within my church. Technically, our time together would have concluded in Holy Week. Considering we had the most unusual Lent, Holy Week and Easter ever, we chose to stay together. The graces are abundant for all of us.

We affectionately call our time together every Friday night on Zoom “Holy Conversations.” When I share “our people” with my mom who lives in Philadelphia, I refer to them as “our little house church” because that is who we are — not at all unlike the first century Christians.

The original thinking for Advent was hope — hope in Jesus, hope in faith and hope to create smaller communities within our larger Saint Max family. Several parishioners opened their homes for gatherings once a week for four weeks. We considered ourselves disciples accompanying other disciples. We journeyed with Our Blessed Lady to “meet” Jesus on Christmas refreshed and renewed. We read “Advent Meditations with Mary” written by Father Mark Toups and published by Ascension Press. It was wonderful and holy.

What is the phrase? “When you make plans, God laughs”? We had met only once in Lent when the shelter-in-place began.

Clare Honick, a life-long Catholic educated in the schools of the Archdiocese of Newark, said the idea of “arriving” on Christmas morning with an Advent journey and a walk toward Jesus intrigued her. It was the invitation extended from the podium/ambo after Communion that led her to the vestibule and not the parking lot. She said she had little hope one of the sign-up sheets would have a Friday night meeting. But there it was.

Her beloved Aunt Marcella died on Palm Sunday 2019 and was very integrated in her parish in North Jersey. After her passing, Clare knew she needed to find more connection and become involved. This little “house church” is now part of her story. “We have morphed from parishioners to friends with a good deal of caring and prayer,” Honick said. “Everyone brings different perspectives and experiences. It is very rich.”

Fred Little, the group’s beloved senior statesman, veteran, widower and only convert to the faith, has shared how important our gatherings are to him. He and his wife entered the Catholic faith 19 years ago and it shaped their life together. He joined our group to learn more about the faith, meet more people and deepen his relationship with God. He also never met with a small faith group in someone’s home.

Little said he knew early on how important this group had become to him. He was pleased when our Advent group all came back together for Lent. “The group is so warm in its interactions. I used to feel I was different as a convert from the cradle Catholics but not with these friends,” he said.

The ability to meet virtually is a great blessing.

When the pandemic started, “I was devastated when I thought we were not going to be able to meet. I thought I can’t go to Mass and I can’t meet with my friends. This group really helped my sense of belonging. And, I pray every day now … something I have not done in my life,” Little said.

Carol Schnepp, a recent transplant to South Jersey from the Archdiocese of Philadelphia, is married 48 years to Deacon Larry Schnepp who continues to serve in his assigned parish. “If it weren’t for this group, I would have felt very isolated from the church during the pandemic. I have received more than I could imagine,” she said.

The personal invitation led her to join. She liked the idea of a small group with a small agenda — the book. Over all of these months, she says this group has blossomed into its larger work with God and the most powerful is prayer. God chose us to be together, she believes. 

“He planned this for us. I look forward every week to the connections we share in our Catholic faith. It is a joy,” Schnepp said.

Cecelia Quigley, long-time parishioner, mom — foster mom and adoptive mom — and owner of two childcare centers, says she “See God in All Things”: a quote from my favorite saint, Saint Ignatius of Loyola. Again, I digress.

She shares she has always felt the need to be part of a parish. She grew up during a time when life revolved around the parish and its school. She has also always been involved in parish life in some way, but not small groups as our little house church.

Quigley also references the importance of the invitation to belong as a reason for first venturing into someone’s home. She, too, needed a Friday night group and there it was — just one. The invitation awakened something in her that was asleep. “I hoped it would be an opportunity to connect with people who would understand me in a spiritual sense. I wanted to hear and share with others.”

The absence of Mass during Lent without this group would have been empty. The streamed Masses were important, she said, and the little house church filled the gap. “These are people just like me. This is what I was seeking.”

Several years ago, my husband Joe Britt, and I had a great experience studying the “Discernment of Spirits” from Saint Ignatius of Loyola in our home. It was wonderful to gather, learn, pray and discuss these spiritual “rules” with sincere and interested friends open to listening to one another.

The great thing about sharing in this way is building trust and that builds community, and so is the acceptance an understanding that comes with this journey. We have built this “circle of trust,” Britt said. “We are very aware the Holy Spirit plays a significant role in each of our gatherings.”

The most important thing is we share our lives, we are each other’s prayer warriors and friends on the journey. “There is prayer, discussion and great empathy for the crosses we carry. We also have joy and laughter as we share our stories and quirks. We are finding our holy path and our fun,” Britt said. There is great comfort in knowing we will gather the following week.