Adventures in Ecumenism

During the pandemic, when we have been unable to go to our usual places of worship, many churches of all kinds have resorted to live streaming or televised worship services. It’s easy to go to these. You can do so anonymously. You don’t have to sign up or register. And most places welcome visitors.

It’s quite a chance for us to visit churches we may not have visited before.

At one time, the Catholic Church strictly forbade Catholics from attending non-Catholic services of any kind. Those were the days when “mixed marriages” between a Catholic and a Protestant had to be celebrated in the rectory. I am not old enough to remember that time, but plenty of people have told me about it, and remarked on how much better it is today to have an attitude of ecumenical openness and friendship.

Since the Decree on Ecumenism was issued at Vatican II, numerous ecumenical affirmations by multiple church bodies have been issued over the past half-century, not to mention statements by popes and bishops. As the ecumenical movement has continued, an attitude of openness and friendship has deepened. Even though not all of the issues are resolved, and Christian unity still remains a work in progress, we are no longer afraid of being corrupted by being in the presence of one another at worship.

Attitudes of friendship and commonality are components of what is sometimes called “grassroots ecumenism.” This is different from the hard work practiced in high-level dialogue groups. It’s accomplished through simple actions on the ground, as believers work together for a better world, and pray together for God’s Kingdom to come. Although high-level dialogue is important, I daresay the grassroots impulse to ecumenism is the engine that drives the whole project. If it were not for the people who chafed at the counter-witness of divided Christianity on the ground, particularly in the missions, the ecumenical movement of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries would probably not have been born. If nobody on the ground today really felt the need to draw closer to our neighbors across lines of historical division, the movement would falter.

But back to the present moment. During the pandemic, we have found ourselves in an objectively new situation regarding church-going. We can cross the threshold of pretty much any church we want to, without leaving our living room. What a wonderful opportunity! Perhaps you have heard about “turning crisis into opportunity”? I’m interested in developing a correlative concept: turning worship isolation into adventures in ecumenism. 

On a normal Sunday, I spend a considerable amount of time going to my own church. Getting dressed and ready to go, traveling there, participating in the liturgy itself, and socializing with people afterwards… well, it takes the whole morning. I would not be surprised if this is the case for many people. I am not complaining, mind you, only noting this prosaic fact in order to observe that going to a second service someplace else in addition to this would be, let’s say, a project. Now that so many churches are holding their services on line, however, it’s easy.

Have any of you taken advantage of this situation to invest a little time in grassroots ecumenism? True confessions: I have. Now, I don’t want you to think I’ve been hopping from flower to flower, visiting every church on the virtual block (though that might have some advantages). My own adventure in ecumenism has been more limited. But it’s still worth sharing, I think.

As it happens, a good friend of mine is a Methodist minister with a background in producing television programs. She sent me the link to a service at her tiny Methodist church in England (she’s not the minister there, but has been helping to film the service) and I got hooked. I started tuning in every week, in addition to participating in a virtual Catholic Mass.

As it turns out, this simple, eighteen-minute service has become a spiritual retreat for me. It is well-paced, beautifully filmed, prayerful, and pastoral. The people themselves provide a lovely witness to faith and charity. We are invited to light a candle, listen to the Gospel, pray the Lord’s Prayer, sing a hymn. All very simple stuff, but it’s put together artfully. The medium of television lends itself to intimacy, which is why the retreat metaphor occurs to me. Truth to tell, I expected to watch it once, but I’ve come back time and again. Pandemic time is a time apart, but rather than feeling isolated, I am finding new connections.

The reason I bring this up is that this has been for me a modest but real affirmation of the importance of grassroots ecumenism. Here we are, separated by an ocean, belonging to different Christian traditions, but reflecting on the same gospel readings (the common lectionary is one of the triumphs of liturgical ecumenism), responding to the same stresses of the pandemic, and facing the same challenges of being under lockdown. We share so much in common, including the most important thing: an unquenchable hope and confidence in our Savior, Jesus Christ.

The reality of a divided Church remains a real shame, yet “a real though imperfect communion” does exist among us. The Vatican II Decree on Ecumenism, Unitatis redintegratio, gives encouragement to Catholics to recognize unreservedly that the reality of Christian faith extends beyond the visible boundaries of the Catholic Church. Others can help us on our pilgrim way as long as we remain open to a deeper realization of the mystery of Christ and the Church.

Catholics must gladly acknowledge and esteem the truly Christian endowments from our common heritage which are to be found among our separated brethren. . .

Nor should we forget that anything wrought by the grace of the Holy Spirit in the hearts of our separated brethren can be a help to our own edification. Whatever is truly Christian is never contrary to what genuinely belongs to the faith; indeed, it can always bring a deeper realization of the mystery of Christ and the Church.  (UR 4)

Finally, I would observe that grassroots ecumenism doesn’t have to be a hard road; it can present itself as a gift. Even during a pandemic.

As so many of us have been worried about the problems and challenges of our own particular communities, I wonder if there has also been some longing to reach out and be touched by those communities we know less well, yet whose Christ-light shines brightly on other shores.


  1. I love this idea, Rita! I was talking to my mom recently about how we have a great opportunity to go to a few different Catholic Churches, but why stop there?

  2. “….the link to a service at her tiny Methodist church in England….”

    Would you post this link, please? I’m interested in learning from “…well-paced, beautifully filmed, prayerful, and pastoral….” liturgy.

    1. Thank you for your question, James. It’s the Wilmslow Methodist Church. All their services since the pandemic lockdown are available on YouTube. Here is a link to the Easter service:
      You can navigate to others from this one. The opening and closing of the Easter service contains actual footage from the Holy Land: the empty tomb, and fishermen on the Sea of Galilee.

      1. Thank you very much for the link.
        What a wonderful Easter liturgy! So well done technically and so intimate in feeling: the split screen for the choir, seamless editing, the shared readings and prayers and the Pastor’s homily (4:37 minutes) expressed a communal joy so often lacking in streamed liturgy. To my mind, this is liturgy. I do miss Eucharist, though.
        Even though the focus of your post is ecumenism I think the additional or underlying topic is “virtual liturgy” and it’s emergence at this time of COVID-19. Dr. Berger’s @Worship continues to be the seminal work on this subject and I encourage study and reflection on her writing.

  3. I have two colleagues who are Muslim and both fairly devout and so I took this opportunity to wish Happy Ramadan and before the working at home we had some good conversations around fasting. It is the feast of Eid this weekend and one of them is walking with friends for ice cream . Alas we can’t have a shared work lunch but was with them in spirit (if not actual practice of fasting).

    I am new in my current position as of last year and what I found interesting is that even though it is a secular workplace and even though religion and faith is rarely (but not never) discussed, I found that being in the presence of people who practice even a very different religion actually helped to deepen my own commitment to my own practice.

    In a silent way when a person is truly heartfelt devoted to their faith it is contagious and need not be a cause of conversion but true mutual enrichment.

    So the moral of the story for me is that it is to just deepen in my own faith and traditions, in the heart and mind and that really has an effect in our normal secular way of life.

    And I really really hope Divine Liturgy starts again soon as I miss it and like to go Saturday night as it is in English and not Ukrainian.

    I also follow on You Tube this Muslim spiritual teacher that has valuable meditation insights as well

  4. Thank you RIta – yes, I wandered around and, in spite of my aversion to virtual liturgy, found places across the ecumenical spectrum which were not only interesting but drew my soul out from the desert into a place of fruitfulness (particularly in beautiful places with beautiful music, which were often Eastern Christian)…it’s good to think there are positives in what often feels only negative!

    1. Speaking of positives: I don’t mean to cast you as an old-timer, Lizette, but I bet you remember the marvellous hour-long CBC television programme “Meeting Place,” which each week showed a different Canadian congregation at worship (prerecorded). In 1997, the show’s cash-strapped network dropped it and its producer-host, the gracious Toronto Anglican Hope Seeley; but until then, it would challenge anyone’s aversion to virtual liturgy. The denominations ranged from, like, Hindu to United Church of Canada to Eastern Orthodox, and the places reached just about from Cape Race to Nootka Sound. Part of the hour was given to a mini-documentary on the congregation and its history and activities. With all that travel and such excellent videography, “Meeting Place” had to be frightfully expensive, but I’ve never seen anything else like it. Thank you, Lizette and your compatriots, for paying your taxes so that we Americans who live close to the border could enjoy such fine broadcasting!

      1. I heartily second Paul’s comment! Living in the Detroit area meant we could watch the CBC loud and clear from Windsor. Meeting Place introduced me to wondrous liturgies of Anglo-Catholic, Orthodox, and Buddhist churches (yes, Buddhist churches!) and many others. I often go back to a YouTube video of the complete Meeting Place episode featuring the Candlemass from St Thomas’, Huron Street, a parish where the congregation is used to chanting psalms right out of the BCP in alternation with a cantor. I wish the CBC would make more of its Meeting Place archive available again.

  5. I go further than Christian ecumenism….for the last couple of years, I have regularly attended Shabbat services at my local Orthodox Jewish Shul (synagogue) and love it….now, I follow Rabbis’ online shiurim (talks) and Erev Shabbat services (Kabbalat Shabbat). So beautiful.

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