Quick hi from San Antone

We are meeting in our little convent, surrounded by the sound of heavy equipment and hard work, having just come back from a pleasant and informative talk by Fr. Ronald Rolheiser. (Actually, we are in San Antonio because of that appointment!) The bells of San Fernando Cathedral are tolling the evening Angelus, perfect for today's feast of the Annunication, even though it falls in Regina Coeli season!
The sun has just peeked out, and we are hoping to have a little free time this evening to actually see the neighborhood.
But first? A bit of supper!

Greetings from Texas!

I knew I wasn't in Chicago any more when I saw not just green grass (green! what a wonderful idea!), but wildflowers in the grass along the tarmac. "Oh, this is going to be nice," I said to myself. And as I write this from my sister's house, so far, so good!
I had plenty of time to pray on the plane, and spent it reflecting mostly on St. Paul. Something he wrote to the Corinthians (the second time around) resonated with today's readings in a particular way for me on this Easter Day: "We were so pressed as to feel our life was threatened, so that we might rely on God, who raises the dead." I think today's responsorial psalm, continuing the praises from Sunday, expressed Paul's thought: I shall not die, but live and declare the works of the Lord.
Does that mean that if we hope in the Lord, we will escape death? It didn't work out that way for Paul, but even now he "lives, declaring the works of the Lord."
In a way, that's the outcome I hope from Paul in this week of meetings on evangelization. Please pray for us! I will update the blog as opportunity and duty allow.

Taking away sin

I was expecting Easter Saturday to continue the story of Jesus' last appearance to the disciples, but instead, the Gospel is from Mark! If we had stayed with John, we would have been brought back to Holy Thursday. I had often heard that Jesus' threefold "Do you love me?" to Peter was to set right his threefold denial, something that seemed a bit of a pious stretch to me. John's Greek shows that I was wrong. The clue is in one simple word, one simple image, that appears in only two scenes in the whole Bible (at Peter's denial and then here, on the shore of the Sea of Galilee): the "charcoal" fire. Peter denied the Lord while warming himself at a charcoal fire. Now, as they eat fish and bread around a charcoal fire on the beach, Jesus asks Peter to retract that denial. This is how Jesus wins us back after sin: not by pushing our faces into our sin, but undoing it by eliciting its exact opposite from us freely.

"little children"

Today's Gospel is John's story of the appearance of the Risen Jesus by the Sea of Galilee (and its attendant catch of fish at the unlikely morning hour). But there is one aspect of this Gospel that I can't seem to find an explanation for. Even the intensely detailed Jerome Biblical Commentary passed right over it! It is that when the Risen Christ, on the shore, calls to the men in the boat, he doesn't call them "Brothers" (the term he used in commissioning Mary Magdalen), but "Children."
Children?
So I looked at the Greek, which was "paidia"--children, school children. It wasn't "tekna" (the term for "offspring"). In the epistles of John, these two terms are used back and forth, but tekna is the preferred word. Here, I suppose, John is saying that Christ is still "teaching" his disciples; when the time comes, they (especially in the person of Peter) will then lead, teach and guide the flock.

Sr. Helena has been working for a solid week to figure out how to transfer her media literacy collection of sundry video clips and commercials to a workable DVD. Today she has proclaimed her technological victory! Meanwhile, I have been pouring over our Founder's works (in English and Italian) to mine for his thought on methods for spreading the Word of God--in view of next week's gathering in Texas. Which I am eagerly anticipating, given that today's temps in San Antonio were to be between 65 and 80, and here in Chicago I was watching the snow fall about an hour ago.
Spring started last week, actually.
At least I caught up on one old, forgotten commitment: providing a summary book review of a manuscript from another publisher. I don't think we'll be carrying the book in PBM centers, though. (A bit too hard to reconcile with Church teaching.) Glad I got that over with! But having read through it, I have been distracted by its overall tone. The author was trying to inject the findings of contemporary quantum physics and so on into spirituality. So far, so good. It's an important thing to do. But to attempt that with only one or two references to the entire New Testament (and only two canonized saints) seems to me to be redefining "spirituality" in all too generic a sense. It is as if the 2,000 year history of Christian spirituality, which naturally expressed itself (in its "positive" formulations) according to the dominant world view and culture, had nothing of real significance for us today (unless it be for the via negativa formulations of certain Germanic mystics and the writings of the late Teilhard de Chardin); as if all our spiritual thought should come from the findings and theories of science. And there was very little room for anything like "divine revelation" outside of the world of quantum science, too.
I didn't want to dismiss the whole book, but I kind of had to, given its overall tenor. But I still want to think out the ramifications of mind-blowing science for how we see ourselves in the world, and what Augustine might have meant when he wrote that eternity would be the "One Christ loving himself."

Easter Break

I know, it's "Spring" break (give me a break!)... Today I met a group of Capuchins from Wisconsin, on their Easter Break in Chicago. I was heading home after an unsuccessful visit to the Art Institute, where I had hoped to find the 15th century European gallery. I only had 15 minutes (they were closing for a special event which involved caterers and wine). The Franciscans, a group of eight or so (average age 26?), were heading to Millennium Park after what I presume was a more fruitful visit to the museum. Hopefully, they'll visit us on Saturday. By then I'll be en route to Texas (yee-ha!) for a meeting of our Pauline Evangelization team. I return April 3, on time for our Founder's birthday (April 4) and the big good-bye to one of our staff members, who will be leaving PBM and entering the religious life in Mexico.
Lots going on here.

God in the Garden

That great Gospel scene of Easter morning in the garden...with the risen Jesus being mistaken for a gardener (!); it's all a reminder of the Garden of Eden. The resurrection garden with its empty tomb is the Eden of the new Creation.
What struck me today, though, in reading the Gospel, was the realization that while Peter and John had been to the tomb and saw the wrappings, John "saw and believed" and then left. Mary Magdalen, however, had scene the open tomb and the angels inside--utterly spurning their attempt to engage her in conversation. But she stayed. And she is the one who had that private meeting with Jesus (aka, "the Gardener"), and it is she who was (the gospels are all very clear about it) given a message for the all the others.

All turned around

This year, Easter has gotten the whole feastday cycle out of kilter. Not only was St. Joseph "transposed" and St. Patrick simply eliminated (except in Ireland, from what I understand!), even the Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord has been bumped from its usual day (nine months before Christmas!) to next week. Well, the Incarnation itself was in view of our redemption through the Paschal Mystery (pace Duns Scotus and the Franciscans!), so it is most fitting. Today's coincidence of Easter Tuesday and the date of the Annunciation is almost an illustration of what St. Paul wrote to the Romans about God "who gives life to the dead and calls into being what never before existed."

Lapsus Fidei

I have been really bothered by something I read in Sunday's paper. It was a reflection by a newly fallen-away Catholic. This was his first Easter away from the Church, a result of a decision he made just as Lent was about to begin. Kind of a "Heck, this is just too much to believe any more."
I keep wanting to respond, but I suspect that "this kind of demon can only be driven out by prayer." I say that because the essay, while reflecting some interior anguish and loss, was really characterized by arrogant language. I find it hard to get past that to the person inside who probably never knew the Church or his Catholic faith as well as he ought, or as well as he presumed. So I guess I will just keep praying for this person (and hoping someone wiser than I will find a way to get through to him!), though I really would like to dare him to read von Balthasar's "Heart of the World" (where he would find many of his objections expressed and mysteriously answered by one of the greatest minds of the 20th century: a mind that remained fully Catholic!).

Cathedral Protest

Today's Tribune had a front-page article about an anti-war protest during Cardinal George's Easter Mass, which was being held in the parish auditorium, due to ceiling damage in the Cathedral. A small group of "Catholic Schoolgirls Against the War" (all adults and not all "girls") spurted fake blood on parishioners, shouting their opposition to the Iraq war. (Do they even realize that the Catholic hierarchy, all the way to the Pope, have been outspoken in its opposition to the same war?) It seems the group was peeved at Cardinal George for meeting with Mayor Daley and President Bush.
This has become the feature du jour for online comments at the Tribune.
Personally, I think their intervention in the name of peace was an act of social violence, and directed to the wrong audience. (Clearly, they were using the setting and the audience for publicity purposes, not because their message was addressed to this particular audience.) What is your reaction?

The Marys and the Myrrh

Every day this week is Easter, and liturgically equal to Sunday. Every day this week we will hear a different part of the Easter Gospel. Today's Gospel (from Matthew) mentions two "myrrh-bearing women," both of them named Mary, who went to the tomb that morning and met the risen Lord on their way back. John's Gospel tells us of three women named Mary who were beneath the cross of Jesus when he died: his own mother, Mary Magdalen, and "his mother's sister Mary the wife of Clopas." Clearly, his mother is not among the myrrh-bearing women, something that the Fathers of the Church say testifies to the Virgin Mary's faith in the resurrection even before it came about. So who is the third of the myrrh-bearers?
Mark says that the three women were Mary Magdalen, Mary the mother of James and Salome (that's "Mrs. Zebedee," the mother of James and John). But Luke says they were "Mary Magdalen, Joanna [whom we learned about in Luke 8 as one of the "financial sponsors" of the evangelical enterprise] and Mary the mother of James."
So far, it looks as though Mary #2 was "the mother of James" and probably "the wife of Clopas." (Would that make Clopas and his son James the "two disciples" who left Jerusalem and met Jesus on the road to Emmaus that same Easter day?)
How many women were there at the tomb that Easter morning? It is Luke who sets the record straight: we don't know. He named three, but mentioned "the others who accompanied them" who also testified to the apostles about what they had seen and heard at the empty tomb.

On a side note, I was struck in today's Gospel at the message Jesus gave the women: "Go to my brothers and tell them...." This matches what we find in the Gospel of John: "Go to my brothers and tell them...." It is unusual enough for John's account to match any of the synoptics, which should really cause us to pay attention to this similarity. This "brother" language is unique to the Resurrection story in the Gospels; we'll only find it again in the letter to the Hebrews, where it is used in the context of the Incarnation. Only after the Passion, Death and Resurrection does Jesus say that his disciples have become his "brothers," true sons of the same Father. Only after the Resurrection will John affirm "our relationship to the world is just like his."

Regina Coeli time

Just a reminder from your friendly neighborhood Angelus Project sponsor: during the Easter Season, the Regina Coeli takes the place of the Angelus, morning, noon and evening.

The Third Day

"In the world, you will have affliction, but take courage: I have overcome the world!"

Saturday

Friday

Thursday

Paschal Retreat

When I was stationed in New York as a newly professed sister, I was particularly impressed with the way the Jewish community observed the high holy days, especially Yom Kippur. Manhattan seemed to have shut down for the day: restaurants, stores and offices, if open, were running with a skeleton crew. Heads of companies were nowhere to be seen. They were taking the holy day off. The city that never sleeps was making a retreat.
As Christians, we get our holy day of Christmas handed to us by the culture, but the even greater holy days of this Paschal Triduum are, for many, many people, workdays like any others, except that the more pious among us find a way to attend services sometime during the day. (The Chicago Methodist Temple downtown has a banner announcing its 25-minute services on Good Friday.)
What if Christians treated Good Friday the way the Jews of Manhattan treat the Day of Atonement?

Here in Chicago, some people looking for last-minute gifts for friends entering the Catholic Church may be dismayed to find our book center closed on Friday; we'll be making our Paschal retreat, and giving our employees the chance to do the same. I won't be blogging until Monday, in order to observe the Triduum better. (What I will do is create some simple posts now, and just "turn them on" day by day.)
How are you able to celebrate the Lord's Passion on Good Friday?

Sr. Bernadette Mary wrote a short article on the washing of the feet in view of tonight's liturgy. Read it here!

Sr. Mary Caroline

One of the really tough things about belonging to an extended family is learning that someone has a terminal illness when you aren't in a position to ever see them again. That's what happened with Sr. Mary Caroline. I saw her last in mid-December, never realizing that this would also be the last time I saw her in this life. Yesterday, her 60th anniversary of first vows, the Lord came to bring her to share the Paschal Triduum from a new and definitive vantage point. We had only learned recently that she had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. (In December, she looked great for her 83+ years.)
Sister Mary Caroline was a New York girl, and had no intention at all of entering religious life, but somehow...this most unlikely of candidates found herself mysteriously drawn to the Daughters of St. Paul. By the time I met her, in the first days of my postulancy, she was a fixture in our Boston community. She served as the "mother of the bindery" and the savior of many vocations. Mine may have been one of them, on my very first day at the publishing house's three-knife cutter. As a newbie, I was given the easiest of tasks: to catch the freshly trimmed books as the conveyor belt shot them toward me. Then I was to stack the books in a pattern on a pallet, forming a sturdy tower of Grade 4 religion books that could be transported by forklift into the stockrooms. (This was the machine that completed the production process for a paperback book.) I can still see where the machine was positioned in the basement level of the "Divine Master" building. (Now there are shelves of copy paper.) The more experienced postulant took the books, two or three at a time, from the hamper. They had been through the "paperbacker" and gotten their covers glued in place, but the pages still had folded edges and the cover was untrimmed. They were put on the conveyor belt, and then SWOOSH, BANG! KABOOM! and SWOOSH, they shot out toward me. SWOOSH, BANG! KABOOM! SWOOSH!SWOOSH, BANG! KABOOM! SWOOSH! SWOOSH, BANG! KABOOM! SWOOSH! Pretty soon I had my first migraine, and Sr. Caroline came over to rescue me, leading me to the quieter shipping department where someone sat me down at a desk and showed me how to do the simple accounting procedures we had in those days before computers. Then dear Sr. Caroline told Sr. Margaret Charles (who was then still "pre-postulant Margaret," and whom I knew as "Peggy" from my old high school): "Your little friend couldn't take the noise!"
God bless the dear soul. She remained in the Boston community throughout these 33 years of my religious life, so every time I would go to Boston, I would see her. She taught new entrants how to run machines that they would soon be responsible for, led vocal prayers over the din of the many motors, and often commented, "Patience and much mercy!" In her later years, she switched from heavy machines to computers, and helped maintain the marketing department's mailing list, send out review copies of new publications, and did other light work.
She was especially devoted to St. Joseph, so it is touching that it was on his "day" (even if not, this year, his liturgical feast) that she was called to heaven. We even had a "hint" that this would be the case because yesterday morning we received an unexpected donation of grocery items, a little sign of the Divine Providence that is St. Joseph's special area. Almost as if to say, "Watch St. Joseph; he is visiting your community today."
Sr. Caroline, may you rest in great peace! As you used to say, "Let us work! In heaven we shall rest!"

Spy Wednesday

Not a very nice name, is it? Puts all the attention on treachery. But the first reading focuses elsewhere. It is the declaration of the Suffering Servant that he has been graced "to speak to the weary a word that will rouse them." Not a word of denunciation, but a stirring word of encouragement--and this coming from someone who is publicly beaten and mocked!
There is something in that. It is easier to denounce than to encourage. Even the Corinthians thought Paul was weak because he preferred to exhort and encourage rather than threaten (although he later reminded them that he had "authority to tear down and to build up" and that he could very well "come with a rod" on his next visit).
Technically, Lent ends as the Triduum begins tomorrow evening. I pray that in this Triduum, all the "weary" will hear the word they most need from the one who "loved us and gave himself for us."

to commend one's spirit

Today I had to "commend" a bit of my spirit--it's certainly a good time of year for something like that. A writing project I had initiated is being redirected, and will be entrusted to someone more expert than I. It needs to be that way for the sake of the audience. It's just a tough thing to have to do. I find (this only happened shortly after noon!) that I keep second-guessing the matter, wondering if perhaps I should have seen if another publisher would want the project as I originally envisioned it... But in the end, it's just an "I commend my spirit" sort of a thing.
I hope this tiny little communion with Jesus in his dying means I'll have a really grace-filled Easter!

St. Patrick's un-day

St. Patrick's feast got displaced by Holy Week, but you wouldn't know it here in Chicago! Saturday was the "civic" observance, with the dyeing of the Chicago River and the parade (which just doesn't measure up to my New Orleans' standards).
Patrick is up there with Ignatius and John the Baptist in my "favorite saints" category: he's the Apostle of Ireland, the St. Paul of the Celts, the Father of the Irish Church, etc. Even though it's technically not his feast day this year, don't let the day go by without reading at least a few paragraphs of his autobiographical "Confessions." You'll see what I mean about St. Paul.
I'd love to see people take St. Patrick's day more seriously and give Patrick the pulpit for a day. (I wonder what he would say about the drunken leprechaun themes of so many restaurant signs?)
Here's a video I took at the Greening of the River on Saturday...

Entering Holy Week

The Lord enters the Holy City and we enter Holy Week.

The Displacement of St. Joseph

He wouldn't mind at all, having his feast day moved four days up to make way for Holy Week. His life was always being moved this way and that for the sake of the redemption.
One of my favorite little stories about St. Joseph is an imaginative retelling of the Harrowing of Hell on that first Holy Saturday. The dimness is suddenly pierced with unaccustomed brightness, and the holy souls of a thousand ancient civilizations draw back in fear. They have seen newcomers arrive before, but never like this. Demons flee in literal "pandemonium." A wide space opens up and the majestic figure of a crucified Man appears. Everyone takes just a few more steps back. Seers, sages, prophets, mystics: they all cower. All except for one humble figure. He is a Palestinian carpenter. You can tell by the strong hands, the sawdust on the robe. He comes forward, and approaches the royal visitor with comfortable familiarity.
"Hello, son."

Father Abraham

I think it's safe to say that Catholics generally do not pay enough attention to Abraham, who figures so prominently in today's Liturgy of the Word (all three Scripture passages, from Genesis, Psalms and John, mention him!). What strikes me today is the connection between Mary and Abraham, both of whom were vital in the coming of Christ into the world, even though separated by centuries. According to the Gospel of Luke, Mary is "blessed" because she "believed that the things promised by the Lord would be fulfilled": the very thing that "Abraham believed and so was justified," according to Paul. So we are challenged to believe--really believe the Word of God! Jesus says, "Whoever keeps my word will never see death."Again, today's Gospel hints, "man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God."

Truth and Freedom

Today's Gospel includes a commonly quoted Scripture verse: one quoted frequently, generally out of context, and often by the most unlikely individuals. "The truth shall make you free." (It would be interesting to know how many times this has been included in political speeches.) The little-noted, seldom-quoted context is a condition that precedes the statement (which is by Jesus, incidentally): "If you remain in my word, you will truly be my disciples, and you will know the truth" (and the truth shall make you free...) It's another way of saying "Man does not live on bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God."
We have an example of that (living by the word of God and being made free because of it) in the first reading, from the book of Daniel: the famous story of the three young men (more traditionally "children") in the fiery furnace. They remained in the word of God by holding firm in the face of dire threats that really were carried out. (They were cast into the fiery furnace!) And they were set free, "unfettered and unhurt" among the flames.

Paulines in Pakistan

Our book center in Lahore was badly damaged by today's suicide bomber. The sisters and those who were with them are safe. However, among the dead are two Catholic school students. The Catholic "center" of Lahore was right near the government building that was targeted. Even the Cathedral was damaged. Let's pray for all who were affected by this, and even dare to ask that the damage sustained by the Catholic community will increase the Church's effectiveness in proclaiming the Gospel.

40 Hours this week

St. Raphael's parish in Naperville is holding a "Forty Hours" devotion, starting tomorrow. If you're in the Chicago metropolitan area and have never participated in the Forty Hours, you might want to join the parish. Father Nathan of the Community of St. John will be speaking at one of the services. See the parish website for details and a schedule.

The Catholic Media Group of Southern California (CIMA, Open Call & Catholic Communicators of Southern California with the Partnership for Spirituality & Film invite you to the

CATHOLIC FILM RETREAT
AT SEA!

An Inter-religious event

Friday, October 10 – Monday, October 13, 2008

Rev. Ron Schmidt, SJ, Hope Productions, Los Angeles
Sr. Rose Pacatte, FSP, Pauline Center for Media Studies, Los Angeles
Frank Frost, Frank Frost Productions, Washington, DC

Theme: Melting Pots: Food & Family
Film Slate:Includes “What’s Cooking?”, “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”
others TBA

Long Beach, CA – Ensenada, Mexico – Long Beach, CA (Carnival Cruise Line)

Contact Ann-Marie Blaney: mailto:%20blaneys@ShareitTravel.com

Passengers must have a valid passport.

Retreat questions call: Nanciann Horvath 714-394-4989

jmj, etc

Since I'm working on a writing project right now, I am spending more time putting actual pen to paper than usual. Something reminded me that I have gotten out of the habit of "blessing" the written page with a little cross and the initials "GDPH" which are customary in our Pauline communities.
GDPH? As in Gloria Dei, Pax Hominibus (Glory to God, Peace to Men): this was our Founder's "motto" and the goal of everything we do in the Pauline mission. Putting this intention at the head of the page was a way of consecrating the whole work to that goal.
You might be familiar with the more typical JMJ (as in Jesus, Mary, Joseph), to which we Paulines would add P for Paul.
There are other such abbreviated blessing-prayers, of course: AMDG being the most famous. What about SDG? Soli Deo Gloria (Glory be to God alone): Bach used to end his manuscripts with this intention. He headed each part of the Passion with JJ (Jesu Juva: I have no idea at all what this could mean; do you?).
Then there is SAG on letters (St. Anthony, Guide).
Can you think of other abbreviated prayers like these?

Saturday I will be attending a session on promoting Eucharistic Adoration (and bringing my book for kids!); Sunday is the 5th Sunday of Lent, and I will be making a retreat day. Have a blest weekend!

Bread alone?

This morning the marvelous aroma of fresh bread met me as I made my way toward the kitchen. (Thank you, Sr. Laura!) The funny thing is, yesterday and today I have been meditating on those words of Deuteronomy which Jesus quoted in his sparring with the devil, "Man does not live on bread alone, but on everything that comes from the mouth of God." It's a bit embarrassing to admit it, but this even factored into a dream I had. I was explaining the passage to a little girl, telling her, "What is it that comes from God's mouth? His word, Jesus! And how does God's word come to us? The Holy Spirit!" So the whole passage became Trinitarian. And then I started to go into what Julian of Norwich said about the extent to which we "live of" Jesus: that we could be at the bottom of the sea, but if we were with Jesus, we would have all we needed to live.
So much for my sleep. If I could only be fully awake to this truth!

Catholic Prayer Breakfast

We got off to a very early start this morning, pulling out in our battered green van at 5:15. We only had to go down Michigan Avenue (less than a half-mile) to set up a small (!) book display for the First Annual Illinois Catholic Prayer Breakfast. It turned out to be a wonderful event, with over 500 participants. The keynote speaker was George Weigel, followed by Fr. Robert Barron. That's quite a duo for one morning! Weigel quoted John Courtney Murray's very insightful comment about the need for a public who are really capable of moral reasoning--without it, Murray said, the other facets of political life (government and economy) will collapse under the weight of mere majority rule. Weigel reminded the audience that this is where the real role of the Catholic laity lies. And Fr. Barron underscored that as well, noting that the Mass is the "source" of this deep moral thought, this certitude about truth that is not "imposing beliefs" on others, but is simply clear sightedness--and if 70% of Catholics do not choose to participate in Mass on a weekly basis, our country is that much poorer and weaker for it.

Padre Pio

I see where Padre Pio's body was exhumed. It looks like the plans are to put his remains in a glass casket and keep them visible. This is pretty common in Italy, even for saints who were not incorrupt. Our Founder, for example, rests inside a wax effigy clothed in priestly vestments and lying in a crystal casket. If the Lord had left his body incorrupt, that would make sense to me. When Sr. Julia and I were in Rome together and came upon one of these glass caskets, she would always say, "Don't do that to me! I don't care how holy I become, I don't want to be on display like that until the end of time!"
But back to Saint Pio, the article on AOL said that more Italian Catholics pray to him than to Jesus or Mary! Don't be surprised to see the good Padre spinning in his crystal urn at that.

Waiting on AnnoPaolino

I wrote yesterday to find out when the official website for the Pauline Year will be available in English. (They even took the English icon off!) Today I got this reply (in Italian! But then, I wrote in Italian to ask...)
We ask a bit more patience, and you will see: soon we will be ready. We, too, strongly feel this lack, and we are putting a lot of pressure on our translators to have the results of their work as soon as possible, but cannot promise any specific times when it comes to the technical part. However, the translation is at a good point, and so we are very confident we will be able to have the site in English and in Spanish by the end of this month of March.

How I Spent Last Summer

Here's the fruit of our August labors, our newest choral album! (Might I suggest that this would be a lovely gift for friends being received into the Catholic Church this Easter?)
You'll note that it's Catholic Favorites I: we are lined up to record volume II this coming August.

Today's Gospel is one that always makes me a little nervous. It's the story of a healing at "Bethesda," a pool with curative waters. Jesus encounters a man who has been ill for 38 years. Jesus, of course, knows that he has been ill a long time. Perhaps he has even seen this man, year after year, hanging around the pool waiting for his chance to be the first one in when the healing bubbles start to appear. But during that long wait, the man only gets hard of heart. He can't even accept the cure that Jesus gives him, because it comes at a cost: "Give up your sins," Jesus says, "so that something worse doesn't befall you."
Was it that unwelcome warning that induced the man to report Jesus to the authorities who were already looking for a way to be rid of him? No wonder Jesus had asked him, before the healing, "Do you want to be cured?"

Still "Laetare"

To judge by today's readings, you would think it was still "Laetare" Sunday, the one "rejoicing" day we get in Lent. Actually, the readings hint that we are at the turning point of Lent. Tomorrow things get a lot darker, but for now, we get a sneak peak at the blessings (St. Paul called them "overflowing gifts of grace") God wants to bestow on us, "full measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over."
I found it a little sad, though, to see the comforting blessing God promises toward the end of the first reading: "They shall live in the houses they build and eat the fruit of the vineyards they plant." This brought to mind the front-page photo from yesterday's New York Times, showing that the Sudanese government (through its janjaweed goons) is again burning villages in the south, which supposedly was under a peace agreement. The people in that burned-out village can no longer live in the houses they built, or eat from their own gardens. Our own sisters are recently arrived in south Sudan, along with many other religious congregations who were invited to help rebuild, counting on that peace treaty. Please say an extra prayer for all of them.

Today's first reading (from the prophet Hosea) is one of the Good Friday readings in the Tridentine missal. It includes the line "on the third day he will raise us up to live in his presence," so it certainly is apt for Good Friday. In the Vatican II missal, this reading is paired with the Gospel parable of two men who went to the Temple to pray. Hosea had called for sincere repentance, not the superficial piety demonstrated by today's Pharisee. As the homilist at Assumption parish said this morning, "Two men went to the Temple to pray, but only one of them actually prayed." The Pharisee started out with prayerful language ("I give you thanks, O God"), but ended up talking "to himself" (and about himself!). Even though he was surely an upstanding citizen and member of the local synagogue, exemplary in every way, he lost track of the Lord himself, whereas the genuinely sinful tax collector stayed on target: "O God, be merciful to me, the sinner."
This brings up another point hinted at toward the end of the reading from Hosea: "It is steadfast love, not sacrifice that I desire; knowledge of God and not holocausts." In Hebrew poetry, what is special is not the rhyme scheme, but the parallel structure of a text, so this is a poetic couplet in which "steadfast love" is equated with "knowledge of God" just as "sacrifice" corresponds to "holocausts." Hosea is not saying that abstract, intellectual knowledge about God is the same as love; he is saying that steadfast love is true knowledge of God ("in the biblical sense"!).