Brothers and sisters in Christ,

We are just days away from the beginning of a new chapter in our Journey in Faith. For many people, this transition is becoming very real. New pastorates are forming. New relationships are beginning. New patterns of worship and ministry are taking shape.

Change of this magnitude naturally brings a wide range of emotions: hope, uncertainty, excitement, grief, curiosity, and concern. Those feelings are understandable and should not be ignored or discounted. A number of churches that have long hosted weekend Mass will no longer do so. Therefore, many parishioners will be attending Mass at a different church than they have in the past. I recognize that this can be painful.

For those experiencing the deepest sorrow over the interim Mass schedules, it is natural to focus on what is changing and what may be lost. I empathize with those feelings. But at the same time, I invite you not to let grief have the final word. Let’s also look with faith toward what God is doing among us and focus our hearts and energies on the mission Christ has entrusted to us.

We are moving forward with a thoughtful plan, while trusting the Holy Spirit to guide us. As we cooperate with the Spirit, he gathers us around the table of the Lord in the Eucharist and sends us forth to proclaim the Good News.

You matter. 

Your presence at Mass matters.

Your participation in your pastorate matters.

When I hear concerns about people no longer coming to Mass, I am reminded of a story I often tell:

On a cold winter evening, a pastor visited a man who had been absent from church for some time. His absence had been keenly felt by his fellow parishioners and by the clergy. Suspecting the reason for the pastor’s visit, the man welcomed him, led him to a comfortable chair near the fireplace, and waited. He fully expected his pastor to rebuke him for staying away.

Instead, the pastor pulled his chair beside him and gazed into the fire, uncertain of what to say. For several minutes, the two sat in silence, watching the dancing flames. Then, taking a pair of tongs, the pastor reached into the fire, removed a brightly glowing ember, and placed it by itself on the hearth.

For a short time, both men sat in silence, watching the isolated ember gradually lose its glow. It dimmed, turned gray, and eventually became black.

Then the pastor picked up the ember and placed it back in the middle of the fire. Almost immediately, it began to glow once again, radiating the light and warmth of the burning coals around it.

The man smiled, looked at his pastor, and said, "I'll see you at Mass on Sunday, Father."

We need one another. Our communities need one another.

We are called to go in search of the 46% of parishioners who have left our parishes over the past 20 years, to reach out to those who have not yet encountered Jesus Christ, and to invite those already engaged to deepen their relationship with him. 

We are called to work together so we can move forward from a position of strength. And we are called to allow the Holy Spirit to ignite within us the fire of disciples who lead others to Christ.

If your usual church will not host a weekend Mass, I personally invite you to attend another church in your pastorate. Come and worship with your brothers and sisters in Christ. Introduce yourself to someone new. Build the relationships that will strengthen our archdiocesan Church and help carry the faith forward for generations to come.

Rather than isolating yourself, I strongly encourage you to experience the light and warmth of your pastorate community – and to be a source of that light and warmth for others.

Together, may we be renewed in our zeal for sharing the Gospel and experience the new life of the Risen Christ in our archdiocesan Church. Like the ember returned to the fire, may we discover that when we gather together in Christ, the flame burns brighter, the warmth spreads farther, and the light shines more clearly for the world to see.