Yearning for Unity We Can Taste

Image: Bishop David Zubik raises the chalice as Bishop Mark Eckman concelebrates at a Mass at Saint Paul Cathedral, Pittsburgh, in memory of Pope Francis on April 21, 2025.

Dear friends,

This spring, I unexpectedly became a weekly Mass-goer.

It was an unusual habit for a lifelong Congregationalist like me. After all, when I started at Christian Associates in 2014, I’d only been to a handful of Catholic Masses in my life. It took me years to learn the liturgical rhythms: to stand up, to kneel down, to remember to stop after “and deliver us from evil.” Even now, I’m still sometimes concerned when protocol places me in a front row seat: it’s much easier to sit behind someone who knows the ropes.

In April and May, a series of special liturgies found me in the pews at Saint Paul Cathedral for three weeks back-to-back: first to mourn Pope Francis, then to celebrate Bishop Zubik’s 50th ordination anniversary, then to welcome Pope Leo XIV. While the services were different in theme and tone, they all culminated in the Eucharistic feast. With stirring music, the

bread and wine were brought to the altar. Great clouds of incense swirled as the bishop consecrated the meal. At last, all the people processed forward, hands outstretched or mouths open, to receive the sacrament.

That is, all the people except me. The Eucharist is a sacrament of unity, and the Catholic Church and my own United Church of Christ are not in full communion. My hosts at the cathedral do not lack hospitality; in fact they are consistently kind and gracious. They aren’t excluding me out of disrespect or arrogance. Our mutual observance of this separation is, instead, simply a reflection of reality. Our churches haven’t reconciled our understandings of what’s happening in this meal. We’re not yet in the right kind of relationship. We haven’t overcome all that divides us. We can’t do this together yet.

But ah, would I like to. It’s hard, sometimes wrenchingly so, to feel the Spirit moving in the service, to watch the host and chalice raised and blessed, to recognize the presence of Christ in this sacrament, to yearn for the bread and cup—and not yet to taste them. It’s hard to feel the pull toward the altar and to stay still in the pew. It’s hard to pray in unison “Lord, I am not

worthy for you to enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed,” and to wait, unfulfilled, for the healing word of invitation.

I hope there is something holy in this longing. I hope that God blesses our deep yearning and our long, lonely waiting. I hope that as we experience broken hearts at our separation, our Holy Comforter will transform our grief into renewed commitment to pursue unity: real, tangible unity, the kind we can taste.

On May 19, in his first papal audience with ecumenical and interreligious guests, Pope Leo said, “As Bishop of Rome, I consider one of my priorities to be that of seeking the re-establishment of full and visible communion among all those who profess the same faith in God the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.” May God help him fulfill his intention, and may our longing to feast together soon find us all around the same holy table.

Your sister in Christ,

Liddy.