In Praise of Remnants

"But I will leave a remnant in your midst, a people humble and lowly, who shall take refuge in the name of the Lord...." (Zephaniah 2:3)

I love this reading from Zephaniah. It is always a refreshing reminder that bigger is not always better.

I believe that in hind site, I have been a remnant all my life. Home schooling when home schooling was small and suspect and a bit like shooting from the hip in the Wild West. Having a big family in a society where dogs have replaced babies. Being Catholic. Being a stay at home mom. Directing a theater no bigger than a postage stamp. A Latin Mass lover. Liturgy enthusiast. Lover of traditions that have fallen to the wayside. One who revels in the history of Monasteries, and loves to walk the aisles of dim Cathedrals. One who must always patiently explain what a great books program is and why did I decide to go to THAT college, anyway? Sigh.

I get discouraged sometimes being a remnant of a presumably ‘other’ age.

Being a 'swimming against the stream' sort of person, there are days I just want to be part of something big, successful, and easy. I want the BIG venue, the grand stage. I want to stop pushing up against public opinion and simply succumb; to let go and be swept along by the easy wave of the status quo. I get tired of being different and striving for things hardly anyone else wants; of seeking for God’s hidden refuge in a larger than life secularism. I get tempted by the wider path and tire of the narrow way.

But a remnant I will always be. I have become used to different. God has asked this of me and of every Christian actually. He has made us this way. To be faithful, seemingly odd remnants walking about in this age we find ourselves in. We are in good company. All the saints were remnants walking about in their own ages like “sparks through stubble” constantly reminding the world, like a pebble in its shoe, that here we have no lasting city. How can we ask for anything different?

I was thinking these thoughts one evening because I wanted a procession. I wanted a Candlelight procession for the feast of the Presentation. But there wasn’t enough interest, my pastor said. Not enough people would come to make it ‘feasible’. I understood. I suppose. But I was so disappointed nonetheless.

Part of me fully understands the whole conundrum of parish priests - going through all the trouble of making things beautiful and meaningful and filled with prayerfulness - only to have a handful of people show up ..... chronically. The discouragement must be profound. Their hearts are in the right place but no one seems to come. I understand that discouragement. I have seen it and I have felt it myself. I have thought of these priests with such love for trying, for putting forth the effort - for the real consolations they have always given me through their efforts. But sometimes they get so tired of trying... for so little result...of always swimming against a tide of 'voiced opinions' to the contrary. I try to pray to St John Vianney, the Cure of Ars for them. Holy and astute St John never let the numbers get in the way of his plans. He gathered up a very small, faithful remnant of holy ladies when he first got to his dying parish in Ars, and they helped him organize Eucharistic processions and rosaries before Mass. He started very small, sometimes, all by himself, carrying the Blessed Sacrament and his little ladies following him. But poor as he was, the processions were as beautiful as he and the holy women could make them. He kept at it. And the people slowly began to come. Beauty always beckons, even in small amounts.

We are told by God not to be discouraged by smallness. It is the remnant that will take heaven by storm. And if we do it, Heaven will come. No matter how small we are. God reveals it through the small person of Zephaniah.

The theater director in me knows this. I did large, meaty plays with a handful of teens. We never had a venue until the very end. We scraped for costumes. For an audience. For mere existence. But something in me said it was best this way. My motto was STILL "Go big or go home" - it didn't mean the audience was going to be BIG, but the play would be. The play demanded my all simply because it was worthy to be acted. And if we only had ten people there to see it, it would STILL have been worth it for the play IS the thing. I will still hold it a most cherished memory in my heart to see a dad in a very small audience weeping at the performance of his son on stage. I would have moved heaven and earth to bring that play to fruition only for that father in the front row. Just him. It would have all been worth it.

Oddly, size seems to matter if you are an American. It’s instilled in us somehow. We think in massiveness. Success only dwells in numbers. Broadcasts. Millions reached. Even the American Church thinks in this way. Large, glitzy Evangelization programs. Forums. Massive youth conferences. Etc. Etc. There is nothing wrong with these, I suppose, but we must never surmise that SIZE means SUCCESS.

That whole mindset seeps into our hearts whether we realize it or not. We must never think that to be small is nothing. That remnants are not worthy of being evangelizers nor of being evangelized. That humble, out of the way parishes should not do the great and beautiful things because their congregations are small and they don't boast "the numbers". We must redefine ‘feasible’.

I HAVE seen remnants do amazing things. Even William Byrd wrote his most exquisite music for remnants of faithful Catholics in secret because he knew they were worth it - to be comforted in a time of persecution in Elizabethan England.

All the bells and incense and candles and the finest vestments in the sacristy closet should be worn, even for the remnant. There should be singing of every sort of hymn and heartening processions even if there are only five people to do so.

God does not count in vast numbers. He sees the "people who have taken refuge in Him". The people who believe He is pleased with their efforts to adore and praise him even if the Church is only a quarter full. A procession of remnants is, I might posit, an even more powerful witness. That these few cared to make everything beautiful and sacred and holy even though no one would see it but the Father Who looks down from heaven and a few faithful parishoners. "Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father is pleased to give you the kingdom".

So, parish priests, you who long for beauty and to bring back all the wonderful traditions that feed and comfort our faith, I hold you close in prayer. Don’t wait for great numbers to begin. Never think that crowds matter to a successful evangelization. Give comfort to the remnant in your midst. Let us have our processions, our incense, our beautiful vestments, our lavish Masses on feast days - they fill our hearts with praise of the Father though we be only a small but mighty knot of people. God desires each soul to come to Him, and He reaches those souls one by one - not in large groups. We will be reached in God's way, in God's time, in God's love. I KNOW it is true. And one day God will multiply this remnant as He did the loaves and fishes and you will be amazed.But first you must hold up the loaves and fishes for the world to see, even if they say "what good are these few among so many".

I have been a remnant all my life. And what God has done with my loaves and fishes I have never really quite understood. We don't need to know. We just need to be there to offer Him praise in the best way we know how. We must keep the faith alive in all the beautiful ways: candlelight, singing, vestments, well trained altar boys, incense, and processions. Even if there be only three elderly people in the pews to see it. For it is to these that God has willed to come, perhaps. Just these, on this particular day, in His providence. He does not see as man sees.

So, let there be candlelight processions for the remnant. Pronounce it feasible! And they will come.

I do not feel inclined at this time to have a paid substack. But if we were together in a cafe discussing all these thoughts, I would not be opposed to you buying me a cup of coffee - with cream, of course. In that spirit, if any of my posts resonate with you and you feel so inclined, you can donate here: buymeacoffee.com/denise_trull