A few weeks ago, I knew I was in need of a special dose of divine assistance. I was confused. I was uncertain. I was struggling to trust. I knew I needed to seek out the Lord in an intentional way. Going to a physical place dedicated to the Mother of God seemed like a good idea, so I set aside a Saturday and, along with a brother seminarian, made a one-day pilgrimage to the Our Lady of Guadalupe shrine in La Crosse, Wisconsin.

My time at the shrine was certainly blessed. The beautiful, verdant hillside on which the shrine is situated was the perfect place to be reminded of God’s closeness and care. And it was a privilege to be in the Lord’s presence at the Mass, to receive him in both the Eucharist and the Word.

Upon reflecting on the day, though, it seems like the Lord was also present, and working in a profound way, not only at the shrine, but on the way to and from La Crosse. During those five-and-a-half hours in the car, Jesus Christ was present to me in and through my friend, the fellow seminarian who made the trip with me. In the company of another “alter Christus,” a baptized brother in Christ, I was able to speak freely and frankly about my life — about my desires, my fears, my questions. Guided by Christian charity, we offered each other encouragement, and helped one another discern how the Lord was working in our lives. I don’t think it’s wrong or presumptuous to say that we were the presence of Christ to each other.

For some, this kind of language can seem scandalous — as if acknowledging Christ’s presence in Christian companionship is a threat to his real presence in the Eucharist. But God is not limited to such rigid binaries; his presence in one mode doesn’t exclude his presence in another. He can be truly present in the Blessed Sacrament, body and blood, soul and divinity, while also being present in Christian community.

In fact, he must be. “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them” (Matthew 18:20). The Vatican II document “Gaudium et Spes” picks up on this thread, boldly teaching that “the brotherly charity of the faithful who are united in Spirit … and who prove themselves a sign of unity” does the most to reveal God’s presence to the modern world. Though we are blessed with faith, we Catholics also need to encounter Christ’s presence in this way! “(Christian community) is how the risen Christ holds us in His embrace,” says Servant of God Luigi Giussani. “This companionship is Christ Himself present.”

Christian companionship doesn’t merely have a negative value — it isn’t merely a source of keeping us accountable and “on the straight and narrow.” Where it is intentional and open, it is a powerful gift, a place in which we are freer and more fully alive. It’s no coincidence that, after being stoned outside of Lystra, St. Paul rises only after “the disciples gathered around him” (Acts 14:20). Christ works through community. We are reminded of his love and presence in our own lives when our brothers and sisters witness to his love and presence in theirs.

In our hyper-individualized age, intentional Christian companionship can seem like a burden and an imposition on our autonomy. But when it’s absent from our lives, we are missing out on a powerful and privileged place of Christ’s presence. And shouldn’t we strive to seek Jesus wherever we can find him?

COVID-related restrictions have limited our access to Christ’s real and abiding presence in the sacraments. They have also made it more difficult to encounter Christ in Christian companionship. Whenever we return to “normal,” I hope we also strive toward a greater appreciation of and commitment to intentional Christian community, in our families, friendships, parishes and archdiocese.

Liedl is a seminarian for the Archdiocese of St. Paul and Minneapolis.