Articles
The Church Cannot Heal what it Refuses to Hear
Opinion | Articles | James Pochury | 28-Jun-2025
I often ask myself: why does the liturgy fail to move me? The sacraments, the Eucharist—so central to Catholic teaching—feel, at best, like rituals observed from afar, never truly touching the depths of my being. I’ve sat through Masses hoping for a word, a gesture, a silence that stirs something… only to walk away more disconnected than before. Maybe I am not the fertile soil the Church expects. Maybe mine is the rocky ground where seeds fall and never take root. But then I look around—at the Indigenous youth I’ve journeyed with across India, Nepal, Thailand, and the Philippines—and I see that I am not alone. Many of us are asking: Where does this faith truly meet us? And why does it feel like we’re the ones always expected to change, while the Church never listens?
The Root Problem:
A Liturgical Church, Deaf to the Land. In every Catholic gathering, we’re told the Eucharist is the “source and summit” of our faith. But whose summit? Whose source? If faith must begin with mystery, it should not erase memory. The dominant mode of Catholicism in India is still a liturgical performance crafted for colonial palates, later ossified by a caste-piety model exported from the South, that now governs form, expression, and authority. It assumes universality, but in doing so, silences diversity.
For tribal and Indigenous peoples across the Northeast, Chhotanagpur, and beyond, the “Mass” often feels like a language imposed, a ritual we must perform to be considered devout, but never ourselves. This is not an argument against Catholic theology. This is a plea: let the Church in India stop assuming indigeneity is a stage of development to be outgrown. In Northeast India, We Are Indigenous—But Don’t Know It
Across the six places I visited—Bangladesh, Khunti, Jamshedpur, Ranchi, Don Bosco University, Nepal—I witnessed a common tension. The youth do not reject the Church. But they also do not find themselves in it. Most couldn’t articulate their tribal identity beyond names or costumes. Some even resisted the term “Indigenous”—seeing it as backward, irrelevant, or politically dangerous. This is the legacy of displacement without movement. A spiritual alienation embedded in Church structures, where being tribal is tolerated as a demographic category but erased as a theological resource. How did we get here? Why does the Indian Church still fail to see that Indigenous wisdom is not a footnote—it is the soul of survival?
Fr. Pedro’s Model: Hope First, Doctrine Later
Traveling with Fr. Pedro Walpole SJ through the communities of Southeast Asia, I saw another way. He does not start with doctrine. He starts with dirt, rivers, memory, silence. He asks, “Where is the space to reflect?” And in that space—whether a dormitory, a field, or a quiet circle—he invites youth to share their hopes, not their sins. Their dreams, not their dogmas. What emerged was not catechesis, but conversion—to self, to story, to community. And yes, eventually, to God. Not the God of textbooks, but the God of the broken bamboo, the grandmother’s song, the forest path. The God who whispers before He teaches. This is what Indigenous pastoral accompaniment could look like. This is what BECs—Basic Ecclesial Communities—could become again: not parish programs but spaces of truthful remembering and collective healing.
Why NECARF Matters Now:
The Northeast Catholic Research Forum (NECARF) was never meant to be another church desk. It is a spark—a gathering of restless Catholic lay minds who believe that faith without truth is blasphemy, and worship without justice is idolatry. But even within NECARF, there are tensions. Kuki and Naga members sit together awkwardly, fractured by wounds older than memory. Some priests believe our work is too political. Others fear we are “anti-clerical.” But if speaking the truth of our pain is rebellion, then the Gospel is a rebel’s cry. We are not here to attack the Church. We are the Church. But we refuse to be the Church that silences the poor, domesticates the tribal, or performs piety while ignoring persecution.
What RAOEN Is Trying to Build
Through RAOEN, we are trying—often clumsily—to build something different. A biome-based synodality, where Indigenous youth are not passive recipients of spiritual formation but authors of their own theological becoming. In the games we played—from the Marble Game to the Rope of Unity to the Visioning Tree—youth did not just learn. They remembered. They named. They cried. They claimed.
In Jamshedpur, one young woman said, “Respect is the water that binds us.” In Ranchi, a boy whispered, “We need to carry each other like the river carries salt and soil.” In Nepal, a youth cried, “We are asked to adjust. But never to speak.” In Guwahati, someone wrote, “I’m studying to succeed. But I don’t know what success means anymore.” These are not workshop feedback forms. These are scriptures of the unrecorded Church—testimonies that should guide every bishop’s next homily more than any papal document.
To the Bishops of India and Asia
If you truly wish to walk with the poor, start by mandating listening circles in every diocese. Give your most vulnerable children not a syllabus, but a seat. Do not wait for Rome. The Synod is not a document; it is a decision. It is not about who gets to vote—it is about who gets to speak. Let your dioceses become places where Indigenous youth no longer whisper “Who am I?” in shame, but declare it with joy.
Final Word: Faith Beyond Ritual
I still don’t always feel at home in the Church. I still don’t understand why God chose to arrive just 2,000 years ago when the earth has turned for billions. But I also know this: faith is not what you inherit. It is what you reimagine. Let us reimagine the Church not as a fortress of doctrine, but a forest of becoming—where even stony hearts like mine may become fertile again. Let the Church not try to save the world by making us all the same. Let it save itself by finally learning how to listen. Let no lay Catholic leader in the Northeast of India say “I don’t know” when asked what is Synodality?
(The author is the Regional Coordinator, River Above Asia Oceania Ecclesial Network (RAOEN); Convenor, Northeast Catholic Research Forum. Views expressed are personal)
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