Ecumenism: The Imperative for Wholeness Inside the Body of Christ

For more than a thousand years, Christians have not experienced the joy of being one family in Christ. Although there were already tensions within the earliest Christian communities, it was not until the year 1054 that there was a formal split, in effect, to establish two formal Christian communities, the Orthodox Church in the East and the Catholic Church in the West.

For over a millennium, Christians have yearned to experience the joy of being one family in Christ once more. Although tensions existed within the earliest Christian communities, it wasn't until 1054 that a formal split occurred, leading to the establishment of the Orthodox Church in the East and the Catholic Church in the West. With the Protestant Reformation in the 16th century, another split took place within the Western Church, further fragmenting Christianity. Today, there are hundreds of Christian denominations, many of which, unfortunately, maintain strained relationships with one another.

Division and misunderstanding are inherent to the human experience, and it's understandable that even Christians may encounter difficulties in getting along with each other. However, what truly becomes a scandal is when we grow complacent and even self-satisfied in our disunity, no longer yearning for wholeness or missing each other within our separate churches.

In most of our churches today, there seems to be minimal concern for those with whom we are not worshipping. For instance, while teaching Roman Catholic seminarians, I often encounter a certain indifference towards the topic of ecumenism, with many seminarians not expressing particular interest in this matter. This observation is not limited to Catholic seminarians; it applies to most of us across various denominations.

But such indifference is fundamentally un-Christian. Oneness was deeply important to Jesus, and he desires all his followers to be gathered at the same table, as depicted in this parable.

A woman who possesses ten coins loses one of them, causing her great anxiety and distress. In response, she begins a frantic and relentless search for the lost coin, lighting lamps, peering under tables, and sweeping the entire house. Finally, she locates the coin, experiences immense joy, gathers her neighbors, and hosts a celebration that undoubtedly surpasses the value of the coin she had lost. (Luke 15, 8-10)

What could explain such extreme anxiety and joy over losing and finding a coin that was likely worth about a dime? The issue at hand extends beyond the coin's monetary value.

In her culture, the number nine was not considered complete, while ten was. Both the woman's distress over losing the coin and her elation upon finding it stemmed from the significance of wholeness. A wholeness in her life had been disrupted, and a precious set of relationships was no longer intact.

The parable could be reimagined in this way: A woman has ten children, maintaining a close relationship with nine of them. However, one of her daughters is estranged from her. The nine children regularly return to the family table, but the alienated daughter does not. This situation weighs heavily on the woman, preventing her from finding peace. She yearns for her estranged daughter to rejoin them. She employs every means to reconcile with her daughter and then, miraculously, it happens. Her daughter returns to the family, restoring their wholeness and bringing everyone back to the table once more. Overjoyed, the woman withdraws her modest savings and hosts a lavish celebration to commemorate this reunion.

Christian faith demands that, like this woman, we experience anxiety and a figurative restlessness, lighting lamps and searching for ways to restore the Church's wholeness. Nine is not a complete number, and neither is the number of those who typically gather within our respective churches. Roman Catholicism alone does not constitute a whole number. Protestantism, Evangelical Churches, and Orthodox Churches each fall short of being a complete Christian number. No single denomination fully embodies the whole Christian faith.

Together, we form a complete Christian number, but even that does not equate to the fullness of our faith. And so, we are meant to feel a sense of unease around these questions: Who among us no longer attends church services? Who feels uncomfortable worshipping with us? How can we possibly be at ease when so many people are no longer present at our table?

Regrettably, many of us today find ourselves in churches that are far from being whole. At times, in moments of less reflection, we might even take a perverse pleasure in it: “Those others aren't true Christians anyway! We're better off without them, forming a purer, more faithful church in their absence! We're the only ones left of the true faith!”

But this lack of concern for wholeness undermines both our Christian calling and our basic human maturity. We attain maturity, become capable of genuine love, and demonstrate true discipleship of Jesus only when, like him, we shed tears for those “other sheep that are not of this fold.” When, like the woman who lost one of her coins, we find ourselves unable to rest until every corner of the house has been meticulously searched in a desperate attempt to recover what's been lost.

We too must diligently seek a lost wholeness and may not find peace until it is restored.