You might say today’s homily began with an elevator pitch.
The priest asked us to think about what we or others do in an elevator–read the operation license, watch the lights move from floor to floor, check our phones, you know the drill, anything other than interact with each other. The point was that elevator behavior to the contrary, we don’t live life in a vacuum. When we think only of ourselves, we and the world lose.
I had to laugh. My basic elevator behavior is far different; just ask anyone in my 21-floor apartment building or at the day job. I’m the one who says have a good day or night. I’m the one who asks if you need help, or what you think of that store whose bag you’re carrying.
Then I realized the elevator behavior of which the priest spoke was more aligned with my churchgoing of the past few months. For some reason, I spend every summer at the church I attended this morning. It’s only a couple blocks farther than my home parish from my apartment. It’s large and quiet, and I don’t know anyone there by name. I nod and smile coming and going out and during the Kiss of Peace, but basically I’m in, listen to the Word, get my Jesus, and go. It’s a bit like the elevator experience the priest described.
My home parish, by comparison, is small and crowded and noisy. I sit with a large group of friends, most of them busy in parish ministry. We talk before Mass and after. We catch up on our weeks and lives. I say hi or wave or nod to the dozens of other folks I know.
I’m not sure why I end up at the other parish each summer. This year, I think it’s because I’m engaged in a female saints and blesseds writing project that’s firing my heart and soul, and I’ve been a bit jealous of my time in general so that I can devote myself to this book.
But as the priest spoke today, it made me realize it’s about time to get back in that small, crowded, noisy elevator. It’s about time to go back to my home parish. Because, as much as the peace and quiet and in-and-out has aided my writing, if I keep it up, the world and I lose.
You say so much in a few words. And ouch! Could that be a little nudge of conviction I’m feeling? Writing can turn an introvert like me into a recluse. Maybe it’s time to get back in the elevator. 🙂
Thanks, Patty! Finding that balance is so hard.