Come, Holy Spirit!

Every year, I ask for the same Gift. Maybe this will be the year?

The End.

One of the unfortunate things about being in a small community (and not, for example, in a motherhouse) is that on our special feast days, we rarely have the experience of the Mass of the feast. We try to do what we can to solemnize the day, but for the Mass, we get the usual daily liturgy (unless a priest friend is available on the feast day). In the Pauline Family (as well as for the Palottines), today is the Feast of Mary, Queen of the Apostles. The Mass for this feast includes the Pentecost narrative from Acts and the Crucifixion from the Gospel of John ("Behold your mother"). The readings for Saturday of the 7th Week of Easter, on the other hand, are both endings: the conclusion of the book of Acts and that of the Gospel of John. In a way, I suppose that's only fitting: the Easter season is at its end, too, with tomorrow's Feast of Pentecost.
Clearly, though, Pentecost is not something of a "finishing touch" on the work of Christ; the Gospel doesn't "end" in the Upper Room! Something like that is hinted in the Gospel itself, with the question of "the Beloved disciple."
Jesus has just told Peter that "when you are older, someone else will tie you up and take you where you would not want to go" (and in case we missed the point, the Gospel writer makes it very clear: "this he said indicating by what death Peter would glorify God"). Jesus, crucified and risen, tells Peter, "Follow me." And what does Peter do? He looks around and sees "the Beloved disciple."
"What about him?"
"What if I want him to remain until I return?" Jesus asked, rather ambiguously.
The wonderful thing about this Gospel is that the Beloved disciple is never named: he is me, you, any and every single disciple of Jesus! And Jesus does want "the Beloved disciple" to remain until he comes again!
The coming of the Holy Spirit is meant to ensure that.

A team of sisters from our Korean province have been in the States on mission since February, visiting the many Korean Catholic communities scattered around the U.S. This is the end of the road for them, so to speak: they still have the Chicago suburban area, but next week they return to the land of kimchi.
The two sisters in the front row both spent time in the United States years ago, studying English. Sr Teresina (on the left) even spent a year with me here in Chicago!
Sr Helena, meanwhile, is in Minnesota. She will be offering a media literacy workshop to the Minnesota Catholic homeschooling parents tomorrow. (She promised to take the Easter decorations down once the Easter season ends--Sunday night!)

Fast Forward

If you attend daily Mass (a very good idea, if you can find a way to), you may have noticed the change of scenes between yesterday's Gospel and today's. Yesterday, we were in the Cenacle, on Holy Thursday, listening in on the last words of Jesus' solemn "priestly prayer" (the part in which he looked into the future and prayed specifically for us!). Today's Gospel is set after the Resurrection, on the shores of Lake Tiberias. The famous "Simon, do you love me?" passage. On this, the next-to-last day of the Easter Season, the Church wants us to hear those words, that commission: "Follow me."
We haven't heard that call (that command, really) since Chapter 1 of John's Gospel--when Jesus "finds Philip and says to him, 'Follow me'." So John is making a kind of sandwich: the call, "Follow me," is the bread that holds the filling of the Gospel together. Nothing of our faith makes sense without that "me." We just turn religion into another form of idolatry if it's not centered on Jesus. That's why Our Lord insisted on asking Peter those three times, "Do you love me?" (At the same time, the presence of the charcoal fire--a detail John also noted at Peter's denial of Christ--tells us that Jesus is giving Peter a way to come back to him, to "get behind" him, so that he would be in a position to really follow him.)

(Heart)breaking news

John Favalora got the news in a peculiar way, considering that as the Archbishop of Miami he really should have been involved in the matter, but it was the local media who informed him that one of his priests was leaving the Catholic Church and being accepted into the Episcopal Church, where he would be preaching--this Sunday. Favalora's public statement is clear and welcome.

Just yesterday I received a message on Facebook from an Episcopal priest who is carefully making his way "across the Tiber" to full communion with the Catholic Church. He (and others like him) have gone through a long period of discernment, and are acting with pastoral care for their Episcopal flocks before they will be free to take this personal step in faith, and he was asking for prayers. It's a heart-rending and courageous thing they are about to do, and it is above all a matter of faith.

Alberto Cutie' would not have been the first priest to leave the ministry for the sake of a woman; the weird thing is that he is willing, right away, to leave the Catholic Church itself (attempting to hold on to "his" priesthood by seeking Episcopal ministry). The Episcopal bishop, for some reason, seems not to hesitate in giving the pulpit to someone who demonstrated such incredibly poor judgment over the past two years. (How long the relationship would have continued in secret had the media not stumbled upon it is anyone's guess.) My community has had a long friendship with Cutie'; our sisters in Miami encouraged him when he was a fervent teenager and followed his every achievement in ministry with a kind of motherly pride. It's sad to see him make this irrational and irresponsible move, especially knowing how influential his example can be. Pray that he receive the grace of repentance--not for "loving a woman" (as he so sarcastically put it) but for his dishonesty with the Church, and with himself.

Desperate plea

This mysterious prayer request arrived in yesterday's mail, postmarked Honolulu, May 21. What is most frightening about this is the expression "I need our souls [of her family] to go to heaven with no delay."
If you are in the Honolulu area, do you recognize the name, handwriting or symbols?
Please forward this as far and wide as you can.

What are you doing?

Simple question. But look at how it changes, depending on which word you stress:
WHAT are you doing?
What ARE you doing?
What are YOU doing?
What are you DOING?
Reminds me of our Sister Concetta (age 90 or so; I don't even remember now!). She came to the US from her native Italy when she was around 40, so her English is heavily accented. Plus, she didn't get all of our colloquial expressions quite right. And that tended to make some of our American commonplaces really thought-provoking. For example, "What on earth are you doing?" became (and still is), "What are you doing on earth?"
Makes you stop and think, doesn't it?
So, what are you doing (on earth)?

Last but not least...

I came in here to shut down my technology in view of an approaching thunderstorm (I'm loathe to take chances on electronics), and realized that I hadn't posted a word today (except on Twitter and FB). Over the weekend I read a wonderful article in Wired and also an old Wall Street Journal special section on the Kindle and electronic book readers in general and how they will change reading. The Wired article mentioned that books need to have an online component so that readers can engage the text with other readers and with the author, becoming participants in the "fuller text" that is being written by their collaboration--and which can also lead new readers to purchase the book. The Wired piece even mentioned one book that was deliberately written in its online version with seven collaborative authors! This is a wonderful thing. In fact, it kind of reminds me of Creation. God created the actual cosmos, and then handed it over to us, giving us jurisdiction over his work, letting us have a hand at directing the way his own creation would develop.
I'm kind of excited to begin doing something in this vein myself.

We've had quite a weekend of comings and goings here in Chicago. My sister and niece arrived on Friday morning (on "the train they call The City of New Orleans") and left yesterday evening. I had a great time showing them Chicago, as you may have noticed from the Segway video. Meanwhile, on Sunday afternoon, a group of sisters from the Boston publishing house came in. They're in the area for a religious booksellers conference/trade show. So we had a full house and lots of laughs. We were hoping to have enjoyed a picnic with the Boston sisters at Millennium Park, but today's weather is more mid-November than late May.
Then Sr Lusia remembered that we were supposed to take a community photo ("official") for the provincial archives. No sooner had the Boston crew departed to set up their exhibit than we pulled ourselves into somewhat official formation to document ourselves. (I am holding a book about the Archdiocese of Chicago in case future historians want to know where this momentous gathering of souls took place.)
The Boston sisters? They'll be back on Friday to start the return drive to Beantown.

Yesterday's Fun

Mom treated me, my sister and my niece to a two-hour tour of Grant Park and Soldier Field--by Segway! What an experience that was....surprisingly hard on your feet.

Popeku

I saw some examples of "Cheneyku" (haiku verse about...yes) on Twitter and decided to create the fun (but reverent!) genre of Popeku. Here's my attempt at Popeku for the World Day of Social Communication (which is today, the 7th Sunday of Easter*). The website referenced is real: Pope2you.net is a new Vatican social network approach to bringing Papal teachings to young people. (This year WDSC theme is using new technologies "to promote respect, dialogue and friendship.")

Holy Father wants
Pope2you.net to
speak to his young flock.

Do you have a Popeku to share?

*Even though we are celebrating the Ascension of the Lord here in Chicago.

12 Stars?

One of the songs we're practicing for Pentecost is a musical setting of a poem by an Anglican divine of centuries past. The poet imagined the sun and stars looking down on Pentecost day, seeing "twelve stars" shining more brightly than the sun. Most depictions of Pentecost in icons and art offer the same image of the "twelve." But Scripture says there were ten times that many believers "gathered in one place" when the Spirit came: 120!
Pray for an ample outpouring of the Spirit in Chicago as new priests are ordained for the Archdiocese. (New deacons coming tomorrow.)

The beginning of the end...

...of the Easter Season. That's where we are right now, one week from the Pentecost Vigil. But Pentecost marked the "end of the beginning" of the formation of the Church, which came from that Cenacle fully equipped for the mission of evangelization.
The same goes for us and for all who have been "sealed with the gift of the Spirit" in confirmation.

Getting ready for a Segway tour of Chicago with my sister and niece; that should be quite an experience!

On the run

I totally forgot what I was going to blog about today. I think it had something to do with the first reading, from Acts. It's one of those places where Roman history intersects with the Bible in a way that allows us to actually date the event in Paul's life. In this case, it was Gallio's term in Achaia that we can date to roughly 51 AD. Gallio, younger brother of the philosopher Seneca (Gallio was adopted, hence the different name) hated Achaia and seems to have taken the first ship out of the province once the weather permitted travel, probably late spring of 52.
Meanwhile, in 2009, I had a great day, running around Chicago with my sister Mary and her twenty-one-year old daughter, Meaghan. Both agreed that Chicago, lovely as it is, is way too cold for human habitation.
I really wish I could remember what it was that I wanted to say, though!

Novena time

Sr Helena was leading our prayers today and forgot that it was the beginning of our double novena: to Mary, Queen of Apostles and the novena of Pentecost (my two favorite novenas!). We have a beautiful sung novena to Mary (that we didn't sing together today). I had intended last year to create a YouTube novena prayer, but here it is novena time again and I never did carry out those good intentions. Ditto for Pentecost.
This year, my Pentecost novena will consist of the usual "Veni Creator" (there's a neat version of the Veni Sancte Spiritus on our album, Catholic Favorites, vol. 2) and reading through Pope John Paul's encyclical on the Holy Spirit.
Do you pray a Pentecost novena? What do you use for these nine days between (ahem) Ascension and Pentecost?

Timeless

...that would be me, sort of. I got back from Milwaukee a couple of hours ago, prayed for a while and now I'm off to choir practice. (Sadly, the "choir year" is fast drawing to a close...but I won't miss the late practices!) I don't have another talk lined up until June 4: does that mean I will be able to clear some of these half-done projects from my office? I sure hope so! But this weekend my sister and her daughter are coming (by train!) to see our beautiful city--and I hope to spend time with them. I guess the projects will have to wait (again).

Serenity

I suspect that "serenity" would not be on the top of too many people's lists if we asked them to name some of the characteristics of the Apostle Paul. Zeal? Of course. Ardor? Necessarily. Tirelessness? Without a doubt. But serenity? As in "to accept the things I cannot change"? Hmmm.
But that's just what today's first reading seems to indicate! Paul and Silas (in Philippi, a Roman colony, where Paul the Roman citizen should have been quite at home) have been beaten with rods (they literally got a "lickin' " by the lictores) and thrown, bleeding and sore, into a dungeon. And there, in the middle of the night, they sat, chained to a stake, "praying and singing hymns to God as the prisoners listened." Luke makes a distinction between the apostles (with their feet in chains) and "the prisoners." The apostles, praying and singing, were free men. Paul doesn't express a hint of frustration at being unable to "go out to all the world" to preach. He sits there and sings his heart out.
Interestingly, we find this same serenity, under the same sorts of circumstance, in the letters St. Paul wrote while "in chains for the Gospel." To the Philippians, who had witnessed his early imprisonment in their own city, he wrote from another prison in another city (probably Rome), "the circumstances of my imprisonment are helping to advance the spread of the Gospel. And so I rejoice!" What a contrast with the line in the Gospel, set before the Lord's suffering, death and resurrection: "grief has filled your hearts." Paul shows us that the Lord's promise had been fulfilled in him: "your grief will be turned into joy."
And see how well the often-neglected Entrance Antiphon sums it all up: Let us shout out our joy and happiness, and give glory to God the Lord of all, because he is our King, alleluia!"

What a weekend!

I left for Joliet Friday evening in a downpour. I thought if I left the city at 6:30, the rush hour would be at least on the wane. Was I ever wrong! Friday rush hour lasts from 3:30 to.... Then I got lost in Joliet. Sister Agatha of the Franciscan sisters got me turned around, and I showed up at their convent door toward 9:00. The sisters run a shelter for battered women in a former orphanage. They were so gracious to give me a place to stay so that I would have an early start on my Saturday morning retreat day at the local parish, St. Paul's. This retreat day was the "finale" of the parish's events for the Year of St. Paul, and my fourth visit there. But the rain kept falling in the morning. Whatever the cause, only seven people came. Poor Father Greg! He said, "People complain that we don't offer things like this, and then when we do have them, nobody shows up!" But he also said that those faithful few who did come to the various events were enthusiastic about them. Perhaps it has ever been thus in the Church!
After the last talk and Benediction at noon on Saturday, I was on the road again--this time a few hours south, to the University of Illinois (Urbana-Champaign) for the graduation festivities. Our candidate, Jackie, would be donning the robe with three velvet bars on the sleeves as a Doctor of Philosophy. Sr Helena was coming, too, in a separate car (she had a talk that morning downtown). I made it in plenty of time for the Cardinal's Mass at the Newman Center chapel. The Cardinal gave one of the best homilies I have ever heard, on the Gospel in which Jesus says, "I have called you friends." Wow. Sr Helena missed the whole thing. (She's usually late for things, but not that late!) There was a reception afterward, and Jackie told the Cardinal about entering the postulancy in September. He was really pleased with that and promised to pray for her. Naturally, we took advantage of the photo op!
Then Sr Helena and I made our way to the Sisters of the Holy Heart of Mary, who opened their home to us. I had spoken directions but no address. Sr Helena (in her separate van) had an (incorrect) address and no direction. And the sister who was our contact person didn't have her cell phone on. Somehow, we connected and got to the convent. The elderly (but vivacious) Sr. Agnes let us in and showed us to our guest rooms. She was telling us about her work in the spirituality of their community (a development of the "French school") and her work translating the spiritual writings of the founders, as well as some of her other experiences, for instance, as a professor at Mundelein Seminary. Finally, I just had to ask, "Sister, what is your last name?" Turns out she was (the famous) Sr. Agnes Cunningham, an author and patristics scholar whose works I have read and enjoyed over the years; someone who is noteworthy for depth and orthodoxy. I was thrilled.
Sr Agnes had some funny stories from her days at the seminary. She was on the faculty when Fr. Robert Barron, the rising star of the American theological scene, was doing his graduate studies for the priesthood. Turns out the young Bob Barron didn't think much of Sr. Agnes' area of expertise. "Why do you pay so much attention to those old Church Fathers?" he asked her. The teacher came back at him, "With your gifts, Bob, if you get to know the Fathers, there's nothign you won't be able to do for the Church theologically."
A year later, Barron took one of Sr. Agnes' courses on the Fathers. Looks like her prediction came to pass!
I'm on the road again tomorrow (Milwaukee--well, Whitefish Bay, St. Monica's). What am I going to do with myself when the Year of St. Paul ends on June 29?

Big day

Sr helena and I are at the U of I graduation for our friend (and FSP hopeful) Jackie's PhD spadbuion. YEAH, jackie!

Through Thick and Thin

I read somewhere, that when you talk to the Irish--I mean the real Irish, not people separated by a hundred or more years from their roots--about prayer and ways of meeting God, they start talking about "thin" places: moments and actual places where God seems much closer than normal. For Paul, the Damascus road was a thin place. St. Augustine and St. Ignatius found a thin place in the pages of a book. In the 19th century, a Jewish agnostic named Francis Lieberman had an unexpected encounter with the blessed Virgin Mary in a nondescript Roman Church. That was his thin place. Over the past 10 years, tens of thousands of people have revived the ancient custom of making the Camino to Compostela--a six week walk across Spain to the tomb of St. James the apostle. This Camino thins a person in more ways than one! The Eucharist itself is another thin place: Jesus is always the meeting point with God!

Or is it that the thin place is really in us? God is always communicating with us, always giving himself whole and entire in love to us. The "thin places" may be thin simply because they help put our hearts in a disposition of receptivity, openness and responsiveness. Maybe that's why so many people find God in nature: they're open; they're not "working". God will get through any way he can, through thick and thin.

The thick place, too, then, would not depend on our life circumstances, but on ourselves. Kathleen Norris in her book "The Noonday Demon," says that this thickness of heart is what the ancient hermits considered the sin of sloth: an unwillingness to change, move or grow. And even though we think of sloth as laziness, this noonday devil sometimes hides behind frenetic activity. You know, when you're too busy to think?

That's why the saints and spiritual directors advise us to be faithful to our rhythm of prayer, even when we don't seem to get anything out of it. That's why we go to Mass weekly or daily even when we feel bankrupt inside. The pattern, and even repeated ritual, can help carve out a thin place over time.


What are your thin places? It could be a real geographic place, a time of day, a state of mind. How can you go there more consistently to listen to God and let him truly be your Lord?

Better late than...?

I'm writing this at an impossibly late hour. If it's less than coherent, you know why. My day was consumed in availability, so I have stayed up to make some progress on the talk I am to give Saturday morning. I know, I still have some time tomorrow. And I will definitely need it. Good thing today was the anniversary of my Confirmation! I am really needing those gifts of the Holy Spirit!
I didn't want to skip a post today, because today's Saint seems to always get short shrift. Even though he was added to the Apostles right there in the Upper Room as the new "12th" apostle, he doesn't get named with the others in the First Eucharistic Prayer, but is listed with the other after-the-fact Apostles and saints later on. He only gets one mention in the entire New Testament. Not St. Jude, but St. Matthias is the forgotten Apostle. And his feast day is not only my Confirmation anniversary, it's the birthday of my very first niece. Far be it from me to drop the ball on this holy man! (Especially when I need his intercession for the work of the apostolate!)
That said, I still admit that Paul and Barnabas (also after-the-fact Apostles) are my favorites.
Do you have a favorite Apostle? Who? Why?

A typical Lukan expression pops up in today's reading from Acts: the understatement. "There arose no little dissension and debate..." (Yesterday we were told that Paul and Barnabas stayed "no little time" with the disciples in Antioch.) That "no little dissension" in the early Church had to do with the hot topic of the day: should circumcision be mandatory for Gentile believers? You would have thought the question had been settled five chapters earlier, in Acts 10, when Peter (told by a heavenly voice not to discriminate) went to the home of the uncircumcized Cornelius and then ordered that his whole household be baptized. Peter was challenged about that, but he reasoned that if the Holy Spirit had come upon everyone in such a manifest way already, what possible further pre-requisite could there be? The dissenters demurred then, but you can see that all they did was bide their time. They simply refused to surrender their own opinion, and kept trying to reform the Church according to the vision they had in mind for it. These people became the bane of Paul's existence, following him on his missionary journeys to correct what they saw as his incomplete and erroneous ways. (You can see the evidence of this in Paul's letters!)
It's a real contradiction of the Gospel we hear today: "I am the vine... Just as a branch cannot bear fruit unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you."
But the Church is still facing the same sort of problem. I've been really impressed lately how many new schisms there are, all fomented by people who insist on their vision of the Church, even to the point of sacrilege! Funny thing is, these groups, while splitting from the universal Church in matters of faith and morals, insist on a few things: use of the word "Catholic," externals like conventional vesture for priests and bishops, and (saddest of all) valid ordination of their own in-house bishops. This is what defines them as self-made schismatic denominations. Many of them then attempt to "ordain" women, believing that the Roman Catholic Church has simply failed to listen to the Holy Spirit in this matter. (The most egregious offender in this is the oddly named "Roman Catholic Womenpriests," but they are just plain weird.) One of these new schisms originated as an informal community of Franciscan inspiration which evolved into a "new" Church (they made sure their male founder got valid episcopal Orders). They graciously offer ordination to whomever desires it, and even allow their members to continue belonging to their Church of origin, although they recommend that such dual citizens inform their original pastor of their situation. Another schismatic community has organized itself into multiple dioceses, some headed by women bishops. This group accepts the "need" for abortion, and willingly presides over same-sex vows.
"Anyone who does not remain in me will be thrown out like a branch and wither." Those are hard words from the Good Shepherd. What they say to me today is that there is a real need for a spirit of reparation.

Please pray for...

On Sunday evening, I learned that my Dad's brother-in-law, my Uncle Joe, had died. It was two months after he had a stroke (my cousin found her Dad on the floor when she came to pick him up for Sunday Mass). I put a prayer request for Uncle Joe and my cousins on the many social networks I participate in: Twitter, Plurk, Facebook, Plaxo and Hi5. And ever since, I have been getting promises of prayer for Uncle Joe from all over the world.
What did the Poor Souls do before the Internet?
Now I have just posted another intention, for "John" (intestinal cancer). This was the friend who played the matchmaker for my sister Mary and her husband. My brother-in-law is taking his friend's grim prognosis very hard. Please pray for him, too.
Wherever you are in the world.

Catching up

It's not the first time I have had to use the title "Catching up," but I hope to have some real "catching up" time next week, after I give the morning retreat at St. Paul's in Joliet on Saturday. Part of my catching up involves actually writing one of the talks for that retreat. (Writer's block, anyone?)
Sr Irene and I spent the weekend at St. Josaphat's Basilica in Milwaukee. I gave one of my St. Paul talks to a very appreciative group (many Secular Franciscans among them) and then we had a book display for the parish Masses. Even though the parish has a gift shop, and there is another religious gift shop across the street, neither one features many books (yet), so we weren't duplicating any efforts. In between times, I kept running into the magnificent Church to take pictures (250 of them!). Honestly, their website doesn't do it justice, but I suppose that's inevitable.
Besides being recently renovated, so that the 100+ year old Church looks brand spanking new, the parish is alive in its beautiful liturgies, with a well-trained choir and great preaching, plus a number of groups, from the women's book club to social outreach in the area.
I was mostly impressed with the Conventual Franciscan community. The priests and brothers (three of the four are named Jim) are solid without being all goopy about it. They were really an uplifting example to me of a healthy religious life, lived in genuine spirituality.
St. Paul gives us his own example in today's first reading. I suppose the most impressive part of the reading, at first glance, is the fact that he survived a stoning! Did he play dead? At any rate, when the local believers gathered around him, perhaps starting to mourn, he got up. Next day he was on his way to another locale, where he told the community to expect similar hardships if they wanted to enter the kingdom of God. To me, this little line is yet another sign of how reliable the Acts of the Apostles is in its account of Paul's teachings, because in the earliest of his letters (1st Thessalonians), dated somewhere around 49 A.D., Paul refers to what he said while among them a year or two earlier: Christian discipleship would entail hardships. (Among them, trying to get caught up?)

the first promise

Today's Gospel gave us the first clue, the first promise, of the coming feast of Pentecost. That reminds me of an interesting article I saw in last week's Wall Street Journal about the Jewish feast of Pentecost, called Shavuot. It originated as a harvest festival, in which the first grain harvested from the fields would be collected in a measure called an omer, which would then be presented by the priest as an offering to God. This harvest service became associated with the gift of the Law on Mount Sinai, so even though the grain ritual is long gone, the feast of Shavuot still has a great deal of meaning. In fact, the period between Passover and Shavuot gets its name from the ancient observance: it is called the Omer. Devout Jews practice the "counting of the Omer" as a spiritual preparation for the feast itself. Just as the Sabbath is the culmination of the week, Omer becomes a kind of "super-Sabbath" as the culmination of 7 times 7 days.
Our feast of Pentecost celebrates the giving of the new Law of the Holy Spirit in our hearts. That means that our Easter season corresponds even now with its Jewish roots. I think it would be wonderful if we could learn from the Jewish community to "count the Omer" from Easter to Pentecost, taking every day of the Easter Season as a call to new life.

What: DISCERNMENT RETREAT
with prayer–talks–sharing–Eucharistic adoration–silence–discernment helps—community life

Who: Young Women ages 17-30
who are discerning a call to religious life

When: MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND
May 22 @ 6pm – May 25 @ 1pm (2009)

Where: Daughters of St. Paul Convent
3908 Sepulveda Blvd., Culver City, CA 90230

Why: To better understand how God is calling YOU to return his love in your life.

Limited spaces available! Applications due 5/19/2009.

Suggested offering to cover costs: $20

For applications, please contact:

Sr. Tracey (310.488.2767) matthia11@aol.com

Sr. Margaret Michael (703.549.1323) vocations@paulinemedia.com

Time Bomb

Did you hear the bomb go off last night? The "theological time bomb" of the Theology of the Body, that is. (George Weigel's expression, not mine!) ABC's "Nightline" program did a segment on Christopher West (kudos to our own Sr. Helena for tipping the ABC researcher off on this great story idea). You can catch the clip on the ABC site. Be sure to read the comments: most of them are from people whose lives have been transformed (and in many cases healed) by the Theology of the Body as articulated by Pope John Paul and popularized by Christopher West. The comments alone are impressive, inspiring reading, because they reflect a depth of understanding and of experience on the part of so many ordinary people who are living the extraordinary grace of the Theology of the Body. Think about it! Given the cultural presumptions that have formed the basis of so many people's life choices, West should be laughed off the planet. Look at what he is trying to sell: "Throw away your contraceptives!" "Don't live together without marriage!" "Hetero only!" These are not exactly the messages that people today would seem likely to embrace, much less live by. But "those who have ears to hear" discover how life-giving the message really is; way more beautiful than they ever imagined.

I thought it was interesting also how some of the commenters who do not yet "get" TOB reflected an ancient heresy called Manicheeism. This is something that St. Augustine was into before his famous conversion. According to the Manichee worldview, "matter" (the body) doesn't matter. So you can do what you want with your body; only your soul is immortal. But the Theology of the Body takes us as we are--body/soul in one person--and as we will be after the final resurrection, when the unnatural split between body and soul that is death will finally be fully healed.

Interested in TOB? Our online study group blog lists some key titles, including many of Christopher West's.

Hands up!

Today's first reading (from Acts) gives us pretty much the standard picture of St. Paul: one hand held high in the conventional pose of a professional rhetor. Luke even alludes to it: "Raising his hand, Paul spoke..." Had you ever noticed that posture in images of St. Paul?
I think Luke gives us even more in today's reading. He reports on a sermon St. Paul preached in a synagogue. Granted, Luke wasn't there taking notes, but it does seem that he accompanied Paul on at least some travels, and Paul stuck to his principle of bringing the Gospel to Jews first, and then the Gentiles. So Acts could very well be giving us Paul's standard introductory sermon for a Jewish audience. In fact, I find a little clue inside the sermon that hints that Luke is giving us the "ipsissima verba" (a direct quote) of Paul himself. Because Luke tells us that Paul's given name, his Jewish name, was Saul, like the first king of Israel, a member (like Paul, according to the letter to the Philippians) of the tribe of Benjamin. And in Paul's sermon we find the only reference in the entire New Testament to King Saul of the tribe of Benjamin. Paul really went out of his way to work King Saul into that sermon; I think that's a little hint of Paul's Jewish pride at being named for history's most famous (up to that point!) Benjaminite.

The Angel of the El Train

My plane from New Orleans landed at 6:30 yesterday afternoon, and by the time I got my luggage (an unusually long wait for Midway--long enough to befriend all the people who had been on the flight with me) and made my way toward the Orange Line El station, I was so tired I hit an alarm button instead of the elevator button that would help me deal with my multiple wheelies. I would have been embarrassed (the alarm button had a huge sign over it that read "NOT FOR ELEVATOR," but the only word that registered in my weary brain was "ELEVATOR"), but this must happen a lot. No one ever showed up and the alarm squealed away as I exited the elevator and fished my commuter card out of my pocket. Timing was good: the train got to the Loop right before a Green Line train, so I hopped off of one and onto the next. The Green Line would deposit me practically at the back door of the convent in just three stops. The only problem I faced was getting down two sets of stairs from the elevated platform. I called Sr. Irene to see if she could meet me on the platform and help me with my suitcase, but she wasn't home, and the Tuesday night Bible class was in session, limiting my possibilities of catching any of the other sisters--but I was going to try! I got off the train and worked my two wheelies onto the platform. Then I had to maneuver with the gate, almost tripping when my computer case caught on the side bar. At that point, a young businessman, immersed in his iPod, noticed my struggles. Earbuds still firmly in place, he reached over and held the gate. "Do you need help getting down the stairs?" Yes, I really did. He left his place and carried my 40-pound suitcase all the way down two levels, right down to the sidewalk. "You must be an angel in disguise!" I said. He answered that he travels enough to know how hard it can be to deal with luggage. I couldn't "God bless" him enough. I am still praying for him today.
And when I saw Sr. Irene, she said that when she missed my call, she had asked her guardian angel to find someone to help me.

With the Holy Family Sisters

Last night I was able to visit the Sisters of the Holy Family, a congregation founded by Henriette deLille in antebellum New Orleans specifically to offer women of color the possibility of religious life and mission. This heroic woman, a real beauty (there is one extant photo of her), could have "passed" as a white woman, as her family members did, finding a place in a society that classified black people according their racial makeup in mathematical terms like "quadroon" and "octaroon." Instead of blending into the social networks that her relatives were trying so hard to be a part of, Henriette dedicated herself to the care and education of blacks (free and slave), and so self-identified completely as a black woman.
I gave my St. Paul presentation to the sisters at the motherhouse, which is still being renovated after Hurricane Katrina filled it up with water. You can still see the warped boards and rust in some of the doorways, but other than those hints, you really woundn't have known that the place was just about destroyed. In fact, the sisters from the nearby high (Until Katrina, the school sisters had their own house and schedule; now they are part of the motherhouse community, which has had to make adjustments for the sake of the school schedule.)
Two of the sisters (in their 90's) will be celebrating their 75th anniversary this year. One is Sr. Catherine Henriette (lots of their sisters have the name Henriette), the other Sr. Thecla (in the photo). WE have a lot of Sr. Thecla's, of course, since that saint is associated with St. Paul, but I had never met a religious of another community with that name. Sharp as a tack, Sr Thecla pushed her wheelchair to the front row to follow my talk. And in the middle of the presentation, her cell phone went off! As Mom and I headed to the car, I asked the local superior, "Do all your elderly sisters have cell phones?" She just smiled.
After the talk, the sisters (and their new chaplain) shared their insights and enthusiasm for St. Paul. It was really delightful being with them. Next time I come to New Orleans, I hope to arrange another visit, to maybe interview some of the sisters about their charism and about Mother deLille, whose cause for canonization has already been introduced.

Veiled meanings...?

I didn't get much quality computer time on this lovely Saturday, but since tomorrow is Good Shepherd Sunday (and hence the "World Day of Prayer for Vocations"), I thought I'd write a follow-up to an interesting blog post by Sr Julie Vieira. Her blog, A Nun's Life, focuses on aspects of religious life. It is a great place for vocational lurking by people who may not be quite ready to admit that they are considering religious life. The other day, Sr. Julia raised the question, "Is the habit the answer to vocations recruitment?" It's odd to suggest that a habit could just be taken on as a recruitment strategy (wouldn't that be somewhat hypocritical?), but you do hear people say that any vocations crisis would be resolved "if all the nuns would just wear habits again." A few of the comments on that post dealt with the actual question, but most seemed to hover around the place of the habit itself, and the experiences of the women who do or do not wear them.
My own experience, of course, is dated (!), but I think it has some relevance. After all,when I entered religious life (in 1975), it seemed as though all women's communities I knew had shifted from full monastic attire to completely secular dress. Only the sisters in my high school (SCVI's)wore a short veil with the teacher's uniform of light blue blouse and dark blue skirt. From my very youthful perspective, it seemed as though the sisters were just being silly, and that the dismissal of the habit could hint at a cavalier attitude toward orthodoxy, too. (Please remember, this was in the '70's when liturgical and other aberrations abounded on all sides.) I had no way of knowing or understanding that the Church had called for some modification of the exaggerations in the inherited styles, and no clue (living in a completely Catholic environment in New Orleans) that the habit could sometimes function as a barrier to ministry.
When I met the Daughters of St. Paul as a senior in high school, I hated the habit the sisters wore at the time, especially the veil, which clung closely to the forehead without any softening by hair or the like. (The veil seemed more a helmet than a woman's headpiece!) But the fact of the habit, even in 1975, communicated to me that the sisters were standing with the Church and not running with the culture. And that allowed me to trust the sisters enough to let myself entertain the idea of religious life for myself.
In other words, the habit was not only a uniform, not only a sign of consecration, not only a concrete form of the practice of poverty: it was a means of communication. A kind of media, if you will. And from my 30+ years of experience in wearing the habit, I have to say that for the most part, the message people seem to draw from this "medium of communication" is that the wearer is, precisely, a "sister" to them: that they and I have an established relationship and that it is a familial relationship. People feel free to walk up and initiate a conversation with me out of the blue--something which happened yesterday while I was outside of a snowball stand with my Mom enjoying a giant cherry snowball. Once, when I was in Italy, an old lady grabbed my arm on the tram and shanghied me to walk her across the cobblestones to her front door. There were a dozen nuns on that tram, but I was the only one with a veil. I was by no means the kindest, most pastoral and caring nun on that tram, but I was the only one who was visibly "available" for a need I was not even aware of. The old lady "read" that in my habit. I have already written about the distress I feel when the street people in Chicago see my habit and assume it means I can give them money! (They understand the connection with "Church" and "service" but not with poverty!)
In Ireland in 1979, Pope John Paul II had urged religious not to "take God off the streets by adopting a secular mode of dress." This hints that the habit may have its chief role not in Catholic circles, but in the wider culture. After all, in ministry settings, people have a relationship with the women religious they meet. They can identify their charism, service, virtues, and so forth. But in the wider world, a more visible sign is called for. Is that why people will ask modestly dressed women wearing a cross if they are nuns?
What I find worth investigating is the noticeable increase in devout women across the religious spectrum who are opting for some form of head covering. Not only are more and more young Muslim women in hijab, but young orthodox Jews, Eastern Christians and even more and more Catholics are adopting forms of head covering. (Creating these things is becoming a cottage industry, for crying out loud!) For most of these, it is a return to an earlier practice. Is there some connection with the wider culture? Is this movment possibly a response to the dismissal of God from public life?

Just desserts

The sweet side of vacation: treats with Mom.

Missing the moment

Now that Notre Dame has refilled their graduation program, I have been reflecting on the controversy the University unwittingly provoked. I mean, they were just doing business as usual (as usual has lately been defined). They did not notice that the sea was quietly changing around them, so that what they interpreted as a triumph (getting the President of the United States as a commencement speaker) would instead be seen as a sell-out to the already too dominant culture in all too urgent an issue. The whole thing blew up in Father Jenkins' face. I kind of wonder if he will be able to stay on in his office after this.
I think something similar happened earlier in the decade with Cardinal Law. The issue was certainly serious, and the Cardinal, from all that seems to have come up, had earlier dealt with it in what was, back then, the usual approach (an approach that supposedly "worked" well in the '50's). As things came into the news, the Cardinal didn't seem to recognize that the world had changed around him, and that the old, acceptable way of addressing things not only wouldn't work, it would and could only make matters much worse. The whole thing blew up in his face. He didn't know the signs of the times.
I hope things keep changing and keep us all on our toes, ready to question our unquestioned assumptions and expectations, practicing real discernment.

Devotion and devotions

This First Friday, first day of Mary's month feast of St. Joseph the Worker certainly offers an abundance of Catholic devotions to choose from! Popular devotions (that's the technical term for them) were by and large flushed out of the Catholic system (at least here in the U.S.) for a generation, but they are inching their way back. I think the approval of the Divine Mercy devotions back in the early 80's did a lot to regain a place of public honor for public devotions. By now, the Divine Mercy seems to have even largely supplanted devotion to the Sacred Heart, which it resembles so much.
I didn't really give all that much value to these devotions myself, seeing them primarily as stepping-stones into other forms of prayer. But lately Sr Helena has been telling me that a book she is currently reading (on Pope Benedict's thought) indicates that the loss of popular devotions has been a real concern of the Holy Father. These devotions, warm, personal, a little on the familiar side, have a real role in the spiritual life. When prayer is limited to liturgical prayer, even liturgical life seems to diminish (witness the now less than 30% Sunday Mass attendance among Catholics in the U.S.). Liturgy, public worship, is not enough!
Today being the feast of St. Joseph the Worker (a feast deliberately echoing Marxist May Day observances--so much so that the Pope was criticized for instituting the feast!), my prayer is especially with people who are unemployed (including my niece's husband who lost his job yesterday) and underemployed (such as my brother-in-law). At the snowball stand today with my mom, a man came over to sit on one of the logs that serve as benches. A mechanic, he has been out of work for two months. May St. Joseph the Worker who taught God a workman's ways, intercede!