By Joel Padgett
Connecting Creed and Life
Editor’s note: For 2025, the weekly Connecting Faith and Life column will be renamed Connecting Creed and Life. To celebrate the 2025 Jubilee Year and the 1,700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea, the columns will consist of reflections on the Nicene Creed, corresponding with related paragraphs in the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC).
“I believe in one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church” (cf. CCC 871-896).
Although the Church is indeed one, we see that it is composed of various members: hierarchy (namely, bishops, priests and deacons), laity (lay people who mostly live and work in the “world”) and consecrated life (like religious brothers and sisters). The Catechism goes on to say that each of these groups is “called to exercise the mission which God has entrusted to the Church to fulfill in the world, in accord with the condition proper to each one” (CCC 871). In addition, among each of these groups there is “a true equality with regard to dignity and the activity whereby all cooperate in the building up of the Body of Christ in accord with each one’s own condition and function” (CCC 872). Furthermore, “the very differences which the Lord has willed to put between the members of his body serve its unity and mission. For in the Church there is diversity of ministry but unity of mission” (CCC 873).
All of this sounds quite nice on paper, and it’s certainly attractive to think about God’s beautiful design of unity and diversity within the Church. So why, in actuality, does it get so complicated? Why is it so easy to drift toward over-secularization of the Church or unhealthy clericalization? Why are there still debates surrounding the roles of the clergy (those who have been ordained) and the laity (those who have not)? Just because the role of the laity is distinct from that of the clergy doesn’t mean they’re divided against each other. And yet divisions are undeniable. They tend to play out in certain “us vs. them” mentalities, rather than a loving esteem for the differences — but equal dignity — of the various God-given conditions and functions within the Church.
Let’s step “outside” of the Church for a moment to look “inward” at life in general. What are some ways in which differences become divisions? How do we tend to view others? Fear, admiration, jealousy, anger, love, suspicion, compassion, joy … At different times in our lives, it might be any of the above. If we were to zoom in on just the negative attitudes, what underlies them?
Although far from being exhaustive, I think divisions are at times fueled by a desire to have something other than what I actually have, or to be something other than who I actually am. Consequently, this might play out, on one hand, in feelings of envy, or on the other hand, it might lead toward self-loathing or victimization. We might catch ourselves thinking along the lines of: Why does this person have this, that or the other thing, and I don’t? Why does that person get to do (or does not have to do) this, that or the other thing? Why does that person have the “perfect” job, the “most amazing” spouse, the good life, the easy life, etc., and I’m stuck with…? In any case, even if we were to have everything we’ve ever dreamed of in this life, there would still remain a painful “ache” within us, a longing for something more. We’d still feel like we’re missing something. Our deepest yearning will only be satisfied when we see God face to face in heavenly glory. However, even in this life, there is a way forward.
God unites, and the devil constantly seeks to divide. Unity with God is the pearl of great price for which it is worth sacrificing all else (cf. Matthew 13:46), and it is the unity that underlies all other unity within the Church. This side of heaven, unity will always be experienced imperfectly. Are we willing to embrace the cross of imperfect unity, and still remain committed to it, filling up in our own flesh “what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the Church” (Colossians 1:24)? For the cost of unity is the cross. And it is in lovingly embracing the cross, to which I am joined by the daily carrying of my own crosses (cf. Matthew 16:14) and by helping bear those of others (Galatians 6:2), that gratitude for God’s mercy and grace overwhelms me to the point I become able to truly love my lot in life, to be a good steward of the “talent” that God has entrusted to me in the Church — as big or as little as the amount may be — and to delight in the talents of others.