True Closeness Is Physical Presence: A Response to Contemporary Platitudes

Most of us who were alive during the 1970s will instantly recognize the piano intro to the Carpenters’ massive pop hit “(They Long to Be) Close to You,” written by Burt Bacharach and Hal David. The song goes on to sing the praises of the beloved and his many attributes. The song’s central aspiration is about physical closeness, for which there is no substitute. Though it may seem far-fetched to use a pop song to effect change in the Church—though that seems to be the mission of certain “Catholic” songwriters—I will try to do so. Our leaders, including the Holy Father, should stop using platitudes about “closeness” and “accompaniment” and instead accept the truth that our incarnational Faith requires an actual physical presence, rather than mere thoughts or words.

At first glance, it may appear that the Holy Father understands this. In his recently-released exhortation, Dilexi Te, he writes: “Christian love breaks down every barrier, brings close those who were distant, unites strangers, and reconciles enemies” (120). But what is he actually saying? Take, for instance, his remarks about the parish in Gaza, Holy Family: he assured them of his “closeness and prayers.” Sorry, Holy Father, but you are in Rome, not the Middle East. It is primarily the job of the local ordinary to meet the needs of his flock. Even Pope Francis seemed to understand this when he spoke of the need for shepherds to smell like their sheep, manifesting a hands-on care, not one who stays in the house, letting the wolves prey on the flock without hindrance.

The much-criticized Bishop Michael Martin of Charlotte, North Carolina, also seems to have a problem with caring for his sheep. Although he said he would accompany the now-bereft faithful in his diocese who are devoted to the TLM, he was a no-show at the inaugural Masses at the new location.

Location. Location. Location. That is the mantra of business owners seeking success, whether that location is a physical, brick-and-mortar store, or an online presence on oft-visited platforms. Place should matter to us, too, because Catholicism is incarnational. God came down to earth and lived among men. He touched and was touched. Much of His healing was done in literally hands-on fashion. He was able to heal at a distance, but that was the exception to the normal practice. Instead, he trained His disciples to go out and do much of the work. He delegated. 

That might be a lesson for Pope Leo: he is not the world’s super-pastor. He is the Bishop of Rome and Vicar of Christ, but the bishops out in the world are the first line of apostolic activity. As a former bishop himself, and as the onetime head of a Dicastery that made decisions or at least recommendations on bishops, he should realize that fact. But even supposing the pope were to do that and let the bishops be bishops, the fact remains that too many bishops act as mere bureaucrats or functionaries. They might send out nice-sounding letters (usually to solicit for funds), but how often does the average Catholic meet the local bishop? The adage about showing up being half the battle or something similar (oftentimes attributed to Woody Allen) is true. Battles are won by armies on the ground, and goals are likewise attained by those who are at hand, not still at home.

Perhaps I shouldn’t be so hard on the bishops. After all, their behavior only matches what is going on in society at large. Physical place or location has been downgraded by the globalists and the promoters of the new economy. Technology supposedly means people can live anywhere and work from home or some other remote location. Social media distorts the view humans have of reality, obliterating distance as well as the boundaries between public and private. Covid made it okay for meetings and even medical appointments to take place via video. But most people live in a tangible world that often has great significance for them: there are family ties, places invested with meaning such as homesteads or ancestral lands, and an environment they particularly enjoy. 

Globalism, in its devaluation of place, insists that all places are equally okay, except when they are not. And that is when the globalists defend and assist migrants coming from poor places to rich places. Thus, people who like where they live are inundated with people who are encouraged and enabled in leaving poverty not to come to a place they will love but rather to a situation that will benefit them in a material way. The shepherds will not vow to be “close” to their existing sheep, but they will stress their “closeness” and willingness to “accompany” those who come from afar—who should be counseled to improve their home place of origin rather than inundate someplace else.

Despite all the talk—and it is mostly talk—about accompaniment and dialogue, Catholic leaders are surpassed by leftists. Any cursory examination of the wave of demonstrations now and in recent years shows that the Left and its army of activists know that showing up and getting physical are of supreme importance. But that’s what happens when there are large groups of people without traditional employment and without family ties who are zealous about their hatred of certain individuals, institutions, and laws.

We might even link the failure of Catholics and Catholic leaders to fully understand true (not rhetorical) incarnational ministry to a decline in belief in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist. If we give mere lip service to being physically present to shepherd the faithful, or speak in a vague awareness of the situation, might that spill over into lip service about the Real Presence? Might a symbolic “solidarity” with those in need or travail transfer to thinking Christ’s presence is symbolic?

That need not be the case. Sacred Scripture provides numerous examples of the difference between mere words about closeness versus the real thing. Before touching on that, it should be mentioned that the Church recognizes that people are bound by the physical laws of God’s universe to one place at a time—except in extraordinary cases. Padre Pio is reportedto have bilocated in a number of instances. Catholic historian Paul Horgan, in his sweeping history of the Rio Grande region, mentions how Venerable Mary of Ágreda appeared to certain indigenous American groups, preparing them to receive the Gospel from Spanish missionaries. But those are the exception.

Martha and Mary of Bethany, sisters of Lazarus, both said to Jesus that their brother would not have died if He had been there. They did not say, “If You had been thinking of him,” or, “If You had been holding him close in Your thoughts”; rather: “If You had been here.” The two disciples on the road to Emmaus didn’t ask Jesus to think of them. They implored Him to stay with them—human presence and human touch.

Let’s give Pope Leo some credit on this issue. In an address early in his pontificate, he insisted that artificial intelligence (AI) “can never take the place of the doctor.” But he still couched his words in the platitudinous manner of today’s Catholic leaders: “An algorithm can never replace a gesture of closeness or a word of comfort.”

It seems likely that Pope Leo (Robert Prevost), 70, would also recognize the pop song referenced at the beginning of this article. Perhaps he could sing along, “They long to be, close to you,” not in a theoretical way, not in some bogus “accompaniment,” and preferably not like Pope John Paul II, who globalized closeness by his numerous trips around the world. Let it be a real presence. That probably means applying subsidiarity and letting the bishop of the affected diocese be the one “close” to those in need. Otherwise, closeness is just a word, not an incarnational fact.