There’s an old movie, starring Tom Hanks and Shelley Long, called “The Money Pit.” It’s a comedy about a young couple who, in a moment of perceived good fortune, buy a house (practically a mansion) for a relatively cheap price. As it turns out however, they’ve been duped, and the house in question is falling apart. Their dream home is a veritable death-trap and they find themselves sinking further and further into debt as they try to repair the place.
Naturally, this puts a great deal of strain on their relationship. As the movie progresses the two reach a point where they can barely stand to be in the same room with one another, as they wait for the house to be completed so that they can sell it and go their separate ways.
Spoiler alert… ultimately, they reconcile, their love being rebuilt like the house around them, and they decide to stay together living in what is now truly the home of their dreams.
There’s a line said by the contractor near the end of the film that has always stuck with me. He says, “No, this wasn’t an easy one, but the foundation was good, I’ll say that. And if that’s okay, then everything else can be fixed.”
The Church (note the capital “C”) can often times seem like a house that is slowly (or swiftly) falling apart. Sometimes it seems like the roof is leaking, the walls have started to sag; maybe the wiring isn’t what it could be, and there’s a draft coming from somewhere bringing an odd smell. We get worried about the state of the liturgical framework, fearful that a wall of doctrine that we particularly liked may fall, or that we might find holes appearing the floor of the Church Canon.
In our anxiety we begin to grumble at one another, losing patience and starting to blame one another for the state of things. The anger grows, the yelling starts, and before you know it: schism!
“I’m not staying in this Church with you any longer!”
“Fine by me!”
And in the midst of all our emotional drama the Carpenter just keeps working, doing the things which need to be done, whether we take notice or not. Because the foundation is good. The chief cornerstone is solid and will not be moved.
Christ gives us a foundation of love. It is upon that base everything else is built. Our liturgies, our worship, our canons, doctrine, and every program and prayer that we do. And yet time and time throughout the Church’s history we keep thinking that these things that we have buit, the walls, the roofs, the pillars and the pulpits of our faith, etc…that these are the true foundations. Whenever we see them threatened, whenever we see them shake or begin to crack, we think the whole structure is coming down. We panic and prepare to either defend some precious edifice, or we get ready to move house.
But the true foundation hasn’t changed. It’s always been there, as solid as ever. And it’s the only thing that’s truly important. Everything else can be fixed, or discarded, or rebuilt in a different way. As long as the foundation of love holds us up we never need to worry. The Church will always stand.
