We currently live one block away from our parish. One block! You’d think we would practically live over there. I certainly expected to be stopping in frequently, walking up to the church to pray whenever I got a chance.
Oh, did I mention that detail? We have to walk up to our church.
Between our house and our church is an incredibly steep hill. Our entire neighborhood is incredibly hilly, but this hill is one of the steepest. It’s enough of a challenge for an adult to walk up by themselves, but for a child to walk up the hill or for an adult to push a stroller (perhaps even a double stroller) up the hill? Nearly impossible.
Despite that fact, we do often walk to Mass. We typically walk to adoration. Sometimes we even walk up there for the sake of playing on the school’s playground. However, it is more likely that we will walk up there if my husband is walking with us. When he’s walking with us, he will typically be the one to push the stroller or carry the toddler up the hill. Or he’s the one who will patiently walk with the preschooler down the hill in her church shoes (which are trickier to walk in than sneakers).
Many times, I have thought about how it is fitting that there is a steep hill between Jesus and me. It is a reminder of the reality of the spiritual life. It is impossible to become a saint in isolation.
(What about hermi
ts, you may ask? Even a hermit begs the intercession of the saints and often has members of the Church in this world who are praying for him or her.)
Becoming a saint (as we are all called to do) is not a feat of strength. It is not an accomplishment that you can achieve, simply by working hard enough. We hear in the Gospels again and again, that is near impossible to get to heaven – it is only possible with God.
It may seem as if we can become holy simply by checking off a series of boxes. Daily Mass? Check. Rosary prayed? Check. But holiness is about so much more than that. Holiness is about recognizing your utter dependence on God.
It is also about recognizing our need for each other, our need for the mystical body of Christ (i.e. the Church). We are not meant to scale the hill to heaven alone. We are meant to help one another. We are meant to rely on the intercession of the saints in heaven, to pray for the souls in purgatory, and to pray with and encourage each other here on earth.
When I was in high school, I used to live a couple of blocks from my parish. The road was flat and smooth, and I visited often. When I was in college, I had a chapel, with the Eucharist, in the dorm that I lived in. I visited it often as well. When practicing my faith was so convenient, it was easy to think of myself as a holy person.
Now, our church is only one block away…but there is this hill. And sometimes I simply don’t have the energy or the strength to climb it. That hill, inconvenient as it may be, has served as a powerful reminder for me that I need God. Many of the times that I think of stopping in our church, I am reaching the end of a long walk with my girls. The thought of scaling one more hill is often more than I can bear. In those moments, I look up that hill and offer a prayer, “My Jesus, I would like to come and visit you today, but I am just really struggling. I am just too tired to make it up that hill. But I offer you my love, and I pray that you will be with me spiritually.”
That prayer often doesn’t feel like enough, but I know it is. I know that my willingness to place myself in God’s hands is more than enough.
