“. . .it is possible to see how both catholicity and mission are dimensions of the Church’s form of life, a life endless sensitive, contemplatively alert to human personal and cultural diversity, tirelessly seeking new horizons in its own experience and understanding by engaging with this diversity, searching to see how the gospel is to be lived and confessed in new and unfamiliar situations; and doing this because of its conviction that each fresh situation is already within the ambience of Jesus’ cross and resurrection, open to his agency, under his kingship.”  (Resurrection: Interpreting the Easter Gospel, 57).

Trying to understand what Williams meant by “catholicity,” I seized this passage as an indication that the Gospel can go anywhere and address any injustice. The kingdom can go wherever injustice or blindness prevails. But I do not see the kingdom growing like a rampant weed, but by seed sown carefully on good soil, as Jesus illustrated in the parable.

Once it was simple to see where the Gospel should be spread: to the people who had not yet heard it. This is what Williams calls “the mission,” delivering the good news to those without access to it. But “catholicity” suggests there are frontiers where the ministry of the cross can reach where it has not achieved relevance, places where mercy and forgiveness are sorely needed.

These are not just geographical frontiers, but local sites of need, sites where people are starved for forgiveness and mercy. I always think of public schools first, because they are places where universal attendance is addressed with limited resources. Volunteers and advocates are always needed, bringing gifts in the spirit of service, rather than frustration with the incremental progress we always see in schools.

But there are always fresh locations in need of the church’s presence, the presence of the love of Jesus: homeless shelters, food pantries, Veterans’ hospitals, sites of catastrophe. What I get from this passage is that there are opportunities opening up daily, and we should be ready to address them when we are called. Not randomly addressing needs as they endlessly appear, but accepting that our mission could extend to “new and unfamiliar situations,” places where we are connected and allied with human need, physical and spiritual.

I believe in organic growth of the kingdom. We find our mission when we leave our doorstep, not always in the great causes or widely-publicized needs. Our journey may take us to a homeless shelter, but it might just as easily take us to a coffee shop or a baseball game. The notion of the “new and unfamiliar” suggests that the kingdom is not always marked with obvious road signs, but may surprise us in places where we live and visit. The kingdom is at our back door and along the road we travel.

The risen Jesus is no longer history. He is present wherever we find victims and casualties.