Zombies don't come to my mind all that often when I'm reading the day's Gospel, really they don't. But there was something about today's rather ghastly portrayal of the death of John the Baptist, and above all in Herod's own reaction some time (years?) later, that, well, yes: the undead did rise up in my imagination.
If you were a vicious (but basically cowardly) tyrant who had put an innocent man to an unjust and violent death, wouldn't you be afraid he'd be back in some other form to exact revenge? But if that innocent man had been a holy prophet of God, you wouldn't be surprised, would you, if he came back in the form of a wonder-worker? So Herod was convinced that Jesus was none other than John, back from the realm of the dead. Herod's superstition betrays his fundamental lack of real super-natural faith: a trend in our times, too. I wish I knew where I had learned this, but anecdotally it seems to ring true: that belief in and participation in occult or superstitious practices increases proportionately with the loss of Christian belief and practices in a culture. The most atheistic countries of Europe, I read, are those with the highest percentage of occult practitioners.
Which brings us to the matter of mission. The first reading had Jeremiah, threatened with death by the religious leaders for his prophecies against the city make his defense by repeating his offensive message. He was completely given to his mission, and into God's hands, come what may. His trust in God was complete, as was his gift of himself to the mission he had received. In this, Jeremiah reminds me of Paul: "I put no value on my own life, if only I may finish the course assigned to me." Of course, Paul's trust has something new to it: he sees the Resurrection of Jesus as the ultimate example of God's reliability in the most dire situation of all. God's love does not fail; his creative power comes up with remarkable solutions, not only surpassing but bypassing all human thought and expectation (and fear).
"If God is for us, who can be against us?" (Not zombies, for sure!)
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
Introverts of the World, Unite! (by yourselves, of course)
I can so relate! Be sure to visit Jen blog on a regular basis; insight, inspiration and laughs.
You might be an Introvert If...
- You see a solitary confinement cell on a prison documentary and think that some people have all the luck.
- When bad weather hits your city and leaves you housebound, your routine doesn't change that much.
- You wish there were a patron saint of getting voicemail when you call people.
- You have ever snuck into your house the back way because your neighbors were doing something festive in their front yard and you were afraid they'd invite you if they saw you.
- You get put on bedrest and it takes everyone a few days to notice that anything is different. (This actually happened to me. Although I guess that could be laziness more than introversion.)
Prophets without Honor
Have you ever secretly envied the apostles and people of Jesus' day, wishing you could have heard his voice with your own ears, eaten the fish and bread there on the green grass, maybe waded in the Sea of Galilee while Jesus preached from the boat? Would that have enhanced your relationship with the Lord? Today's Gospel brings a bit of a reality check.
One of the challenges most daily homilists face is that of bringing together readings that are running on two separate cycles. While the Sunday lectionary has a deliberate (and fairly consistent) matching between the Gospel passage and the first reading (the Gospel is what determined the choice of the first reading), the weekday lectionary has something else going on. The Gospels are read more or less successively, and the first readings follow on their own track. So it's rare that you get a genuine match between the two; sometimes you get some nifty correlation, but rarely the kind of match you'd find on a Sunday.
Today is one of those rare days in which it would seem as though the first reading and Psalm had been intentionally placed with the Gospel. The Psalm especially could be read as Jesus' own prayer in the event we read about: the rejection of his message by the people of Nazareth.
In both readings, God's messenger is threatened, and his message rejected, by people close to them. In Jeremiah's case, it was the “priests and prophets”--Jeremiah's own caste, because he was from a priestly family. In both cases, the grounds for rejection are specious.
At Nazareth, Jesus was teaching—and the people acknowledged the real “wisdom” of his words, but they kept it on a safely superficial level, admitting that there was wisdom in the abstract, but not actually listening to the message. Instead, they asked belittling questions that allowed them to write Jesus off as an anomaly—or as a local curiosity.
The strong parallels between the two readings got me thinking about what we do when we reject the prophets of our own day. After all, the people of Nazareth and the priests and prophets of the Jerusalem Temple were not the last of their kind. Thomas Aquinas was rejected in academia because he drew principles from pagan and Muslim thinkers; John Paul II's Theology of the Body is even now marginalized by those who condescendingly note that the author was “formed by his World War II experience, so different from the American experience of affluence and freedom...”.
So this led me to formulate seven sure strategies for dismissing prophets without having to engage them directly or actually read their works or listen to their words. Feel free to add other useful strategies in the comment box!
One of the challenges most daily homilists face is that of bringing together readings that are running on two separate cycles. While the Sunday lectionary has a deliberate (and fairly consistent) matching between the Gospel passage and the first reading (the Gospel is what determined the choice of the first reading), the weekday lectionary has something else going on. The Gospels are read more or less successively, and the first readings follow on their own track. So it's rare that you get a genuine match between the two; sometimes you get some nifty correlation, but rarely the kind of match you'd find on a Sunday.
Today is one of those rare days in which it would seem as though the first reading and Psalm had been intentionally placed with the Gospel. The Psalm especially could be read as Jesus' own prayer in the event we read about: the rejection of his message by the people of Nazareth.
In both readings, God's messenger is threatened, and his message rejected, by people close to them. In Jeremiah's case, it was the “priests and prophets”--Jeremiah's own caste, because he was from a priestly family. In both cases, the grounds for rejection are specious.
At Nazareth, Jesus was teaching—and the people acknowledged the real “wisdom” of his words, but they kept it on a safely superficial level, admitting that there was wisdom in the abstract, but not actually listening to the message. Instead, they asked belittling questions that allowed them to write Jesus off as an anomaly—or as a local curiosity.
The strong parallels between the two readings got me thinking about what we do when we reject the prophets of our own day. After all, the people of Nazareth and the priests and prophets of the Jerusalem Temple were not the last of their kind. Thomas Aquinas was rejected in academia because he drew principles from pagan and Muslim thinkers; John Paul II's Theology of the Body is even now marginalized by those who condescendingly note that the author was “formed by his World War II experience, so different from the American experience of affluence and freedom...”.
So this led me to formulate seven sure strategies for dismissing prophets without having to engage them directly or actually read their works or listen to their words. Feel free to add other useful strategies in the comment box!
How to Reject a Prophet (without really trying)*
- put someone in a category (liberal/conservative) and keep the lid tight so he/she won't surprise you with an insight
- focus on the bad hair, or teeth, or the strong accent (unless it is a “classy” accent)
- focus on the nice clothes (you can later approvingly comment on it, or wonder aloud how much it cost; either approach allows you to avoid any real issues raised)
- come with an a priori judgment
- pigeon-hole the prophet to a very specific sphere to limit the reach of the message
- never question your own position by wondering, for example, if you are motivated by envy or by fear of change or loss of personal advantage
- don't forget the all-purpose approach of “guilt by association”
*These strategies work in all sorts of settings, not only the religious. Try them on inconvenient persons in the areas of economics, politics, medicine... The possibilities are limitless!
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Convergences
Our community encounter continued this morning with a (too-long!) presentation on "Emotional Intelligence." It related in many ways with the chapters I read last night from a fine book on St Therese of Lisieux: Everything Is Grace: The Life and Way of Therese of Lisieux
. (Sr Patricia, my co-novice, is one of our community St. Therese experts; she loaned me the book while I am in Boston.) I got to the part about the grace of her complete spiritual conversion at age 13. That is an aspect of the saint's life that I never quite "got." The book really helped me grasp the significance of that episode, and in some ways I find it gives me an insight into today's saint, Martha, as well.
As a child, Therese unquestioningly responded to her feelings (especially the perception of disapproval) by becoming almost hysterically mournful at not measuring up to the other's desires. Hers was the role of the baby in the family, and she always fulfilled it. But deep down, there was the need to please others, to assure their approval and guarantee her own security, her "place."
But that Christmas Eve, she was awakened to what was happening; how this was making everything around her, all the people and events that even casually touched her life, function as if in view of herself. And the grace of conversion did not mean that those thoughts and feelings were suddenly erased or redirected; it was that she, at age 13, discovered, accepted and used the gift of her own freedom to will to respond to those same situations from the standpoint of gift: she would not seek Therese's good standing, reputation or security, but--being secure in Jesus' love for her and his unfailing presence--she would take the matter in hand and respond for the good of the other. And so when she went back downstairs, her concern was to uplift and delight her father's tired heart. She sought his greater good and not her own immediate emotional gratification (which was so typically her reaction that big sister Celine had run up the stairs after her to console and soothe her, and was quite surprised to see that Therese had not dissolved into her usual despairing tears).
Therese received a Christmas gift of a new interpretive framework from which to experience, process and respond to life's situations, and she accepted the de-centering of her own ego that this involved. From then on, people and events did not orbit the Planet Therese; Therese joined the planetary system and learned how to use her own gravitational influence to the benefit of others and not to draw them to herself, responding in, with and like Christ.
In TOB terms, Therese learned that "man can only find himself through a sincere gift of self."
. (Sr Patricia, my co-novice, is one of our community St. Therese experts; she loaned me the book while I am in Boston.) I got to the part about the grace of her complete spiritual conversion at age 13. That is an aspect of the saint's life that I never quite "got." The book really helped me grasp the significance of that episode, and in some ways I find it gives me an insight into today's saint, Martha, as well.As a child, Therese unquestioningly responded to her feelings (especially the perception of disapproval) by becoming almost hysterically mournful at not measuring up to the other's desires. Hers was the role of the baby in the family, and she always fulfilled it. But deep down, there was the need to please others, to assure their approval and guarantee her own security, her "place."
But that Christmas Eve, she was awakened to what was happening; how this was making everything around her, all the people and events that even casually touched her life, function as if in view of herself. And the grace of conversion did not mean that those thoughts and feelings were suddenly erased or redirected; it was that she, at age 13, discovered, accepted and used the gift of her own freedom to will to respond to those same situations from the standpoint of gift: she would not seek Therese's good standing, reputation or security, but--being secure in Jesus' love for her and his unfailing presence--she would take the matter in hand and respond for the good of the other. And so when she went back downstairs, her concern was to uplift and delight her father's tired heart. She sought his greater good and not her own immediate emotional gratification (which was so typically her reaction that big sister Celine had run up the stairs after her to console and soothe her, and was quite surprised to see that Therese had not dissolved into her usual despairing tears).
Therese received a Christmas gift of a new interpretive framework from which to experience, process and respond to life's situations, and she accepted the de-centering of her own ego that this involved. From then on, people and events did not orbit the Planet Therese; Therese joined the planetary system and learned how to use her own gravitational influence to the benefit of others and not to draw them to herself, responding in, with and like Christ.
In TOB terms, Therese learned that "man can only find himself through a sincere gift of self."
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Wish I was in Philadelphia...
with Sr Helena and a group of our sisters at the Theology of the Body Congress...
We were in community meetings (mostly informational) all day here at the retreat house; it was great--but when we had a break and I saw the live tweets from the congress, I sure wished I could bilocate somehow! It's especially exciting for us that not only is Sr Helena one of the panelists for the congress, but four of our Pauline authors are either speaking or present. We were even supposed to have an unofficial book launch for a new title ("Women, Sex and the Church": how's that for clarity?); I've heard great things from the sisters in editorial about the book, which had numerous contributors, all offering a contemporary take on this most urgent collection of issues, all from a fully, vibrantly Catholic perspective. Can't wait 'til it officially comes out so I can see it (and give you a link).
Three more days of informational type meetings; two of them will be about St. Paul! But it may be hard for me to keep you posted. So I would advise following the TOB tweets live over the next few days!
We were in community meetings (mostly informational) all day here at the retreat house; it was great--but when we had a break and I saw the live tweets from the congress, I sure wished I could bilocate somehow! It's especially exciting for us that not only is Sr Helena one of the panelists for the congress, but four of our Pauline authors are either speaking or present. We were even supposed to have an unofficial book launch for a new title ("Women, Sex and the Church": how's that for clarity?); I've heard great things from the sisters in editorial about the book, which had numerous contributors, all offering a contemporary take on this most urgent collection of issues, all from a fully, vibrantly Catholic perspective. Can't wait 'til it officially comes out so I can see it (and give you a link).
Three more days of informational type meetings; two of them will be about St. Paul! But it may be hard for me to keep you posted. So I would advise following the TOB tweets live over the next few days!
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Retreat's done!
My annual retreat ended last evening; today we have a free day (believe me, it is already filled up--I offered to cook) and tomorrow we begin five days of community "stuff." And it will really be community, because there will be 53 of us (about 40% of the total number of Daughters of St Paul in the US and English-speaking Canada!). It should be great. And the weather has been lovely, at least to me. Granted, very hot and humid, but that is right up my alley.
Today's gospel really isn't one of my favorites; it's the explanation of the parable of the weeds and the wheat. Scholars say that the detailed explanations of the parables of the Sower and of the weeds probably did not come right from Jesus' lips; that it would have been uncharacteristic of his teaching style to give a parable and then unpack it himself: that is what the hearer was supposed to do; that's how parables work! (However, Mark does say explicitly that Jesus spoke to the crowds in parables, but explained things privately to the inner circle of his disciples, whom, after all, he was preparing for a mission to the whole world.) Be that as it may, I kind of wish the Gospels explained other things; these particular parables seem straightforward enough! But maybe the point the early church was making in including the explanation wasn't so much to explain as to emphasize through repetition: the explanation itself becomes simply a device for that--along with the exhortation (which is the whole purpose of the parables): "Whoever has ears, let him hear."
Today's gospel really isn't one of my favorites; it's the explanation of the parable of the weeds and the wheat. Scholars say that the detailed explanations of the parables of the Sower and of the weeds probably did not come right from Jesus' lips; that it would have been uncharacteristic of his teaching style to give a parable and then unpack it himself: that is what the hearer was supposed to do; that's how parables work! (However, Mark does say explicitly that Jesus spoke to the crowds in parables, but explained things privately to the inner circle of his disciples, whom, after all, he was preparing for a mission to the whole world.) Be that as it may, I kind of wish the Gospels explained other things; these particular parables seem straightforward enough! But maybe the point the early church was making in including the explanation wasn't so much to explain as to emphasize through repetition: the explanation itself becomes simply a device for that--along with the exhortation (which is the whole purpose of the parables): "Whoever has ears, let him hear."
Friday, July 16, 2010
Time to say Goodbye (for a while)
I'm almost ready for tomorrow morning's flight to Boston; retreat starts this weekend, and signals a halt to my online activity for a good week. Hopefully, I'll have something worthwhile to say after all that reflection and prayer!
You'll be in my prayer throughout these days, and I hope you'll lift me up once in a while.
Thanks.
You'll be in my prayer throughout these days, and I hope you'll lift me up once in a while.
Thanks.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Grave crimes (no misdemeanors)
“What is it with the Vatican?” people are asking in a huff. “Do they really think it's helping matters when they put the sexual abuse of children together with women's ordination and classify them both as 'crimes'?! Why bother issuing a 'new' document at all?”
Yes, a new document from the Vatican. This one was drawn up by the “Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith,” headed by the American Cardinal William Levada. Approved by Pope Benedict on May 21 and released July 15, it has been summarized as condemning child sexual abuse and women's ordination as apparently equivalent “grave crimes,” provoking disbelief, distress and outright scorn. What gives?
It could be that misperceptions concerning this document spring from the very specific expectations of victims' groups, who cannot help desiring a single, clear, one-size-fits-all solution to the situation that left them so vulnerable. But instead of a sweeping papal action setting an entirely new course, they get a highly technical legal document that seems to lump their particularly personal pain together with an odd assortment of ecclesiastical issues.
What we have is, basically, an updated version of a 2001 document detailing proceedings for addressing violations of Church law in the most serious matters. The 2010 version incorporates the many changes that have been made over the past nine years (for example, streamlining the process for dealing with abuse cases). The only common denominator is that all of these changes had to do with legal protocol in matters that the Church considers “grave crimes.”
There are few people on earth who would deny that the sexual abuse of children constitutes a “grave crime,” no matter what the legal system. It is not the only “grave crime,” but it certainly is one of the most abominable. That does not mean that other issues are not also grave. The Church sees sacrilege as a grave crime, and the attempted ordination of women is not the only sacrilege this document touches on. (Post your sacramental confession on YouTube? Don't go there...)
From a public relations standpoint, it may have been a lot smarter for the Vatican to issue two documents (the US bishops presented the document in two different press conferences!). But the changes now codified in “Normae de gravioribus delictis” are, really and truly, a step forward.
News from Vatican press conference (pretty important stuff)
http://www.catholicnews.com/data/stories/cns/1002901.htm
The document itself (helpful only if you are used to reading Canon Law)
US Bishops' presentation on processes for handling child sexual abuse
US Bishops' presentation on attempted women's ordination in the new document
This post was prepared for The Seeker, a feature of the Chicago Tribune.
Yes, a new document from the Vatican. This one was drawn up by the “Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith,” headed by the American Cardinal William Levada. Approved by Pope Benedict on May 21 and released July 15, it has been summarized as condemning child sexual abuse and women's ordination as apparently equivalent “grave crimes,” provoking disbelief, distress and outright scorn. What gives?
It could be that misperceptions concerning this document spring from the very specific expectations of victims' groups, who cannot help desiring a single, clear, one-size-fits-all solution to the situation that left them so vulnerable. But instead of a sweeping papal action setting an entirely new course, they get a highly technical legal document that seems to lump their particularly personal pain together with an odd assortment of ecclesiastical issues.
What we have is, basically, an updated version of a 2001 document detailing proceedings for addressing violations of Church law in the most serious matters. The 2010 version incorporates the many changes that have been made over the past nine years (for example, streamlining the process for dealing with abuse cases). The only common denominator is that all of these changes had to do with legal protocol in matters that the Church considers “grave crimes.”
There are few people on earth who would deny that the sexual abuse of children constitutes a “grave crime,” no matter what the legal system. It is not the only “grave crime,” but it certainly is one of the most abominable. That does not mean that other issues are not also grave. The Church sees sacrilege as a grave crime, and the attempted ordination of women is not the only sacrilege this document touches on. (Post your sacramental confession on YouTube? Don't go there...)
From a public relations standpoint, it may have been a lot smarter for the Vatican to issue two documents (the US bishops presented the document in two different press conferences!). But the changes now codified in “Normae de gravioribus delictis” are, really and truly, a step forward.
News from Vatican press conference (pretty important stuff)
http://www.catholicnews.com/data/stories/cns/1002901.htm
The document itself (helpful only if you are used to reading Canon Law)
US Bishops' presentation on processes for handling child sexual abuse
US Bishops' presentation on attempted women's ordination in the new document
This post was prepared for The Seeker, a feature of the Chicago Tribune.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Bastille Day
Lately I've begun again listening to audio books. For quite a while I left the genre alone, preferring silence. But there are so many books that contain information I want to access, but there is no way I am going to devote my precious contemplative reading time to books I do not anticipate taking notes from. So out comes the CD player, tucked into one of those (free) string backpacks while I do laundry, chop veggies, and so forth. This week I have been listening to Salvation Is from the Jews
. The author devotes a great deal of space to a study of the occult thought behind the Nazi race-based religion and its practices. It is truly frightening. I knew that the Nazi's were promoting a pagan Germanic cult, but had no idea that it was simply occultism in Teutonic garb. One very early occult practitioner, the one who initiated Hitler into the dark mysteries in the early 20's, even boasted that through Hitler, he would alter the course of history.
What stopped that from happening? How was this evil overcome?
Then comes today's anniversary of the storming of the Bastille, a kind of symbol of the beginning of the French Revolution. (Personally, when I think "French Revolution," I do not think "Liberté, égalité, fraternité" so much as I do guillotines and murderous chaos.) The French Revolution saw itself as taking inspiration from the American uprising not two decades earlier. I'm sure our own Revolutionary War had its share of mayhem and unrighteousness. (Washington's Christmas attack on the Hessians was not exactly gentlemanly.) But this revolution was different. So different it soon acquired a nickname (the Terror) that showed little hope that the insanity would end any time soon.
What stopped the bloodshed?
Could it be a sign of the power of the martyrs? The French Revolution alone accounts for hundreds of martyrs, of whom about 80 have been beatified. Most prominent among these are the Carmelites of Compiegne, who offered their lives to God specifically "to quell the Terror" (the title of a book that details their whole story
). Ten days after the sixteen nuns were guillotined, the Terror abruptly ended.
Was the defeat of the Nazi's and the end of the Holocaust also due to the self-surrender in faith of so many of its victims? That's what I'm thinking. Many of the Jews went to their deaths with the words of the Psalms on their lips. Edith Stein (St. Teresa Benedicta) told her sister, when arrest was imminent, "Let us go, for our people."
All the power of the underworld is helpless before that kind of gift of self to the Lordship of God.
That's what I can celebrate on Bastille Day.
. The author devotes a great deal of space to a study of the occult thought behind the Nazi race-based religion and its practices. It is truly frightening. I knew that the Nazi's were promoting a pagan Germanic cult, but had no idea that it was simply occultism in Teutonic garb. One very early occult practitioner, the one who initiated Hitler into the dark mysteries in the early 20's, even boasted that through Hitler, he would alter the course of history. What stopped that from happening? How was this evil overcome?
Then comes today's anniversary of the storming of the Bastille, a kind of symbol of the beginning of the French Revolution. (Personally, when I think "French Revolution," I do not think "Liberté, égalité, fraternité" so much as I do guillotines and murderous chaos.) The French Revolution saw itself as taking inspiration from the American uprising not two decades earlier. I'm sure our own Revolutionary War had its share of mayhem and unrighteousness. (Washington's Christmas attack on the Hessians was not exactly gentlemanly.) But this revolution was different. So different it soon acquired a nickname (the Terror) that showed little hope that the insanity would end any time soon.
What stopped the bloodshed?
Could it be a sign of the power of the martyrs? The French Revolution alone accounts for hundreds of martyrs, of whom about 80 have been beatified. Most prominent among these are the Carmelites of Compiegne, who offered their lives to God specifically "to quell the Terror" (the title of a book that details their whole story
). Ten days after the sixteen nuns were guillotined, the Terror abruptly ended.Was the defeat of the Nazi's and the end of the Holocaust also due to the self-surrender in faith of so many of its victims? That's what I'm thinking. Many of the Jews went to their deaths with the words of the Psalms on their lips. Edith Stein (St. Teresa Benedicta) told her sister, when arrest was imminent, "Let us go, for our people."
All the power of the underworld is helpless before that kind of gift of self to the Lordship of God.
That's what I can celebrate on Bastille Day.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Give and take
It just keeps coming from the Liturgy these days. In the Gospel, we even get Jesus' thundering, "Woe to you!" about the very towns where his biggest, bestest miracles had been worked. The people of Bethsaida and Capharnaum were always ready to take and take and take from the Lord, but they withheld the "complete gift of self" that the miracles, from Jesus' side, were. (And think about it, Capharnaum was Jesus' adopted town; he moved there, "his own town," during his public ministry). That coldness had to really sting.
The conversion Jesus was calling for required that the people of Bethsaida (home to James and John) and Capharnaum first recognize the gifts they were being offered, so that they could consciously, actively and deliberately receive them--not just "take" them.
I think that the same can be said of the gifts and talents we receive from God as individuals. After all, as God sustains us in existence, these qualities and abilities are continuously being given to us anew. What would it mean to "receive" them?
The conversion Jesus was calling for required that the people of Bethsaida (home to James and John) and Capharnaum first recognize the gifts they were being offered, so that they could consciously, actively and deliberately receive them--not just "take" them.
I think that the same can be said of the gifts and talents we receive from God as individuals. After all, as God sustains us in existence, these qualities and abilities are continuously being given to us anew. What would it mean to "receive" them?
Monday, July 12, 2010
Rough readings
Today's first reading, psalm and Gospel put together a pretty powerful package. It's something like a Lenten call to conversion come out of season. God complains about the sacrifices He Himself called for, and says they're worthless. Jesus, the Prince of Peace, asks rhetorically if we think he had come to bring peace to the earth, and proceeds to tell us that he actually brought a sword. You can almost hear it slice through the air as he says, "The one who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; the one who loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; the one who will not take up his cross...the one who 'finds' himself..."
I almost want to ask, like the disciples after the teaching about how hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom, "Then who, Lord, can be saved?"
Jesus isn't issuing empty threats; he's calling for a decision. That's what the sword is: you can't dance on that thin edge, you can only pick a side. And Jesus is saying, "Make that decision! Don't put the most important relationship in your life on indefinite hold!" While Isaiah is saying, in God's name, "Don't live it halfway, either!"
I almost want to ask, like the disciples after the teaching about how hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom, "Then who, Lord, can be saved?"
Jesus isn't issuing empty threats; he's calling for a decision. That's what the sword is: you can't dance on that thin edge, you can only pick a side. And Jesus is saying, "Make that decision! Don't put the most important relationship in your life on indefinite hold!" While Isaiah is saying, in God's name, "Don't live it halfway, either!"
Friday, July 09, 2010
Filming Brother Al
The Alberione documentary got started (in a small way!) this week when Brother Al came down from the Detroit area for two days of interviews. Sr Helena took him to the Benedictine Monastery in Lisle, where the sisters put their guest house at her disposal. It provides a much more photogenic (and for the most part silent) background for filming than we have here downtown. Rob and his crew met them there and rearranged the furniture to create the ideal setting.
Then they just let Brother Al do his thing.
Meanwhile, back at the Michigan Avenue ranch, I prepared a nice "family dinner" for Brother Al and our Holy Family members (Bill and Madeline), and tried to get snippets of video of Brother Al at meals just talking about the Founder. That footage will come later!
Then they just let Brother Al do his thing.
Meanwhile, back at the Michigan Avenue ranch, I prepared a nice "family dinner" for Brother Al and our Holy Family members (Bill and Madeline), and tried to get snippets of video of Brother Al at meals just talking about the Founder. That footage will come later!
Thursday, July 08, 2010
Free!
The sisters tease me mercilessly about my love for freebies. I will walk two blocks out of my way when free samples are being handed out on the streets of Chicago and when I get home, I gleefully pull out the treasures I have gotten for free. These treasures have been particularly abundant lately. We had a cabinet full of little cereal boxes, and now we have a shelf full of tiny tubes of toothpaste. And one bottle of a new sports drink in the fridge. If it's free, I'm there.
Naturally I took notice when today's Gospel said, "Freely you have received, freely give."
When our Lord sent the 12 on mission, he expected them to be out there, on the streets, giving stuff away. Only the freebies they were sent with weren't bottles of soft drinks or packets of mints. They were signs of God's life-giving power: "Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, expel demons." The gift they had received without cost, they were to give without cost. It is a way of saying that the Apostles were to participate in God's generosity; to be in communion with the Giver of every good gift.
"What do you have that you did not receive?" St. Paul challenged the Corinthians. Anything worth having, anything that will last beyond this life, can only be received for free. For me in particular it is a call to examine my spirit of poverty. To the extent that I really live my vow of poverty, I will more accurately recognize that nothing I have, nothing I make use of, was due me as some sort of wage; I didn't earn it; I didn't pay for it. Freely I have received.
That got me thinking about how urgent it is for the New Evangelization that we really give credit where credit is due. If we do not recognize what we have "received without cost," we will be hampered in making that free gift to others.
Naturally I took notice when today's Gospel said, "Freely you have received, freely give."
When our Lord sent the 12 on mission, he expected them to be out there, on the streets, giving stuff away. Only the freebies they were sent with weren't bottles of soft drinks or packets of mints. They were signs of God's life-giving power: "Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, expel demons." The gift they had received without cost, they were to give without cost. It is a way of saying that the Apostles were to participate in God's generosity; to be in communion with the Giver of every good gift.
"What do you have that you did not receive?" St. Paul challenged the Corinthians. Anything worth having, anything that will last beyond this life, can only be received for free. For me in particular it is a call to examine my spirit of poverty. To the extent that I really live my vow of poverty, I will more accurately recognize that nothing I have, nothing I make use of, was due me as some sort of wage; I didn't earn it; I didn't pay for it. Freely I have received.
That got me thinking about how urgent it is for the New Evangelization that we really give credit where credit is due. If we do not recognize what we have "received without cost," we will be hampered in making that free gift to others.
The Angelus Among Women
In June, podcaster Pat Gohn and I talked about the Angelus as the ideal prayer to provide your day with a spiritual framework that keeps you always referring back (in thanks and praise) to what the Lord did for us through Mary's yes. I'm convinced that promoting the Angelus can also support the New Evangelization by helping Catholics to daily, three times a day, reaffirm their faith in that central truth of revelation, the Incarnation.
Now you, too, can be a part of that conversation, since Pat has included it in her latest podcast. Thanks, Pat!
Now you, too, can be a part of that conversation, since Pat has included it in her latest podcast. Thanks, Pat!
Wednesday, July 07, 2010
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
Virgin Martyrs
Today's feast of St Maria Goretti puts before us a rank of saints that don't get a lot of press these days. Apostles? Can't miss 'em. Popes? Bishops? Priests? Nuns? They're all pretty visible as far as saints go. And while we don't have new apostles (of the Peter, John, Andrew sort), we do continuously get new Popes, bishops, priests and religious men and women, all of whom are expected to at least aim for sanctity. And in recent years, we've been seeing more and more regular moms and dads and doctors, people like St. Gianna Molla or St. Joseph Moscati, "raised to the honors of the altar."
But virgin martyrs seem to be about as contemporary as togas and doric columns. (Didn't they fade away with the Edict of Milan in 313?)
Maria's short life tells another story.
Not that Maria was alone. Her contemporary, Bl. Laura Vicuña, knew what it was like to fight off the unwanted attentions of an older man (in this case, her mother's common law husband). Laura isn't technically a martyr, but her death at age 13 came only 8 days after she (already ill) was beaten by an enraged and drunken "stepfather." Then there was, Bl. Clementine Anwarite, a young religious sister in Zaire during that country's civil war. When a military officer threatened to take each member of her community and either kill them or give them as "wives" to his men, Clementine looked him in the eye and said, "You will kill only me."
And then there are...the new virgin martyrs. The ones who are still alive. Women of any age who refuse to conform to the preposterous images and expectations* of a hyper-sexualized culture. There's a real martyrdom in that kind of strength!
Our greater awareness of the many and subtle ways women have been abused throughout the ages may make us nervous about proclaiming the glory of a virgin martyr--especially one who hadn't even reached her teens. What kind of message, people ask, are we sending girls who may be in situations like (or worse than) Laura Vicuña's? (For one thing, the question itself is a sign that too much emphasis is being given to virginity in the strictest, physical sense.)
But what kind of message are we sending girls if we do not give them the example of bold, self-possessed young women like Maria, Laura and Sister Clementine?
* Watch the video!
But virgin martyrs seem to be about as contemporary as togas and doric columns. (Didn't they fade away with the Edict of Milan in 313?)
Maria's short life tells another story.
Not that Maria was alone. Her contemporary, Bl. Laura Vicuña, knew what it was like to fight off the unwanted attentions of an older man (in this case, her mother's common law husband). Laura isn't technically a martyr, but her death at age 13 came only 8 days after she (already ill) was beaten by an enraged and drunken "stepfather." Then there was, Bl. Clementine Anwarite, a young religious sister in Zaire during that country's civil war. When a military officer threatened to take each member of her community and either kill them or give them as "wives" to his men, Clementine looked him in the eye and said, "You will kill only me."
And then there are...the new virgin martyrs. The ones who are still alive. Women of any age who refuse to conform to the preposterous images and expectations* of a hyper-sexualized culture. There's a real martyrdom in that kind of strength!
Our greater awareness of the many and subtle ways women have been abused throughout the ages may make us nervous about proclaiming the glory of a virgin martyr--especially one who hadn't even reached her teens. What kind of message, people ask, are we sending girls who may be in situations like (or worse than) Laura Vicuña's? (For one thing, the question itself is a sign that too much emphasis is being given to virginity in the strictest, physical sense.)
But what kind of message are we sending girls if we do not give them the example of bold, self-possessed young women like Maria, Laura and Sister Clementine?
* Watch the video!
Monday, July 05, 2010
Meanwhile in the South Pacific...
Today was Sr Fay Josephine's perpetual profession day. Samoa being six hours "behind" us, Mass may still be going on. (They really celebrate their liturgies in the islands!)
Not only are our provincial, my local superior (Samoan) and two other sisters there, we heard that there were no more flights between American Samoa and Samoa because every seat had been booked by people attending the vow ceremony.
Sr. Fay has been in our prayers all year as she and Sr. Christina Miriam joined the program in Italy to prepare for this big step, which Sr. Christina will take next month (after the provincial has had the chance to get over the 7 hour jet lag). Special features of the perpetual profession liturgy include the solemn blessing of the new professed, in which the priest or bishop invokes the various holy women of the Bible; the welcome from the superior who witnesses and receives the vows, along with the biblical promise, "you shall receive the hundredfold and life everlasting" and the assurance, "from now on, all things will be in common among us"; and the formal "missioning" of the sister to her assignment. (That much, we already knew: she will be assigned "to bring the Gospel to the Church of New York," where Sr. Fay will become the manager of our Manhattan book center.) 
Of course, the Samoan liturgy has some distinctive features of its own, such as the draping of a lei around the Book of the Gospels. The first time Sr. Lusia (our superior here in Chicago) saw this, she felt the symbol strike deep in her heart: leis are never draped around things, only around persons. Like the Living Word. There are also ceremonial dances, like the one performed by Sr. Fay's cousin for her first profession. And since in the Samoan culture, the gift of highest value is a "fine mat," this is also used in the liturgy. This is an immense and finely woven carpet of reed or grass-like fibers. (I remember Sr. Lusia's father, a "talking chief," carrying the fine mat up the aisle at her profession. He had such a regal air about him, and the finely woven, wheat-colored mat was draped so beautifully over his fully outstretched arms.) Also, if someone commits a crime against another member of the community, their forgiveness and re-entry into society really depends absolutely upon the victim or the victim's family. The repentant offender has to remain outside of the victim's home, day and night, rain or shine, however long it takes. When the family comes out and covers him with a fine mat, he is forgiven. So in Sr. Fay's first profession, the fine mat was also used in the Penitential Rite. (I imagine it is also being used today for her perpetual profession, but I haven't heard.)
Congratulations, Sr Fay! "From now on, everything will be in common among us!"
Not only are our provincial, my local superior (Samoan) and two other sisters there, we heard that there were no more flights between American Samoa and Samoa because every seat had been booked by people attending the vow ceremony.
Sr. Fay has been in our prayers all year as she and Sr. Christina Miriam joined the program in Italy to prepare for this big step, which Sr. Christina will take next month (after the provincial has had the chance to get over the 7 hour jet lag). Special features of the perpetual profession liturgy include the solemn blessing of the new professed, in which the priest or bishop invokes the various holy women of the Bible; the welcome from the superior who witnesses and receives the vows, along with the biblical promise, "you shall receive the hundredfold and life everlasting" and the assurance, "from now on, all things will be in common among us"; and the formal "missioning" of the sister to her assignment. (That much, we already knew: she will be assigned "to bring the Gospel to the Church of New York," where Sr. Fay will become the manager of our Manhattan book center.) 
Of course, the Samoan liturgy has some distinctive features of its own, such as the draping of a lei around the Book of the Gospels. The first time Sr. Lusia (our superior here in Chicago) saw this, she felt the symbol strike deep in her heart: leis are never draped around things, only around persons. Like the Living Word. There are also ceremonial dances, like the one performed by Sr. Fay's cousin for her first profession. And since in the Samoan culture, the gift of highest value is a "fine mat," this is also used in the liturgy. This is an immense and finely woven carpet of reed or grass-like fibers. (I remember Sr. Lusia's father, a "talking chief," carrying the fine mat up the aisle at her profession. He had such a regal air about him, and the finely woven, wheat-colored mat was draped so beautifully over his fully outstretched arms.) Also, if someone commits a crime against another member of the community, their forgiveness and re-entry into society really depends absolutely upon the victim or the victim's family. The repentant offender has to remain outside of the victim's home, day and night, rain or shine, however long it takes. When the family comes out and covers him with a fine mat, he is forgiven. So in Sr. Fay's first profession, the fine mat was also used in the Penitential Rite. (I imagine it is also being used today for her perpetual profession, but I haven't heard.)Congratulations, Sr Fay! "From now on, everything will be in common among us!"
Saturday, July 03, 2010
True Believer
Today's feast of St. Thomas (a.k.a. "Doubting Thomas") is an invitation to reflect on faith: the kind and quality of our faith. And not just in the light of Thomas' condition-setting belief, but (on this First Saturday) in the light of Mary's faith as "she who trusted that the Word spoken to her would be fulfilled."
Mary is the first of those who did "not see but believed" on the basis of the angel's message, before any miracles, before the Sermon on the Mount, before the Risen Lord came and showed his wounded hands and side.
But Thomas came to believe, too. And so strongly that the Christians of the Indian subcontinent held on to the Gospel for 1500 years before encountering other Christians in any great number, celebrating the Mass (Qurbana) in Aramaic until fairly recently.
Lately, the Christians of India have been undergoing persecution in many regions; we can pray to their patron Saint and founder, St. Thomas that they will have the blessings of profound, joyful and contagious faith.
Mary is the first of those who did "not see but believed" on the basis of the angel's message, before any miracles, before the Sermon on the Mount, before the Risen Lord came and showed his wounded hands and side.
But Thomas came to believe, too. And so strongly that the Christians of the Indian subcontinent held on to the Gospel for 1500 years before encountering other Christians in any great number, celebrating the Mass (Qurbana) in Aramaic until fairly recently.
Lately, the Christians of India have been undergoing persecution in many regions; we can pray to their patron Saint and founder, St. Thomas that they will have the blessings of profound, joyful and contagious faith.
Friday, July 02, 2010
Calling all sinners!
It had to happen. Yesterday, four of us enjoyed an afternoon at the Taste of Chicago, encouraging the Korean sisters to try the fried yucca, plaintain, sweet potato chips, and, yes, collard green egg rolls. We had a delightful time. Everything I love about Chicago was on display for our sisters. But last night, sirens were coming from all directions, responding to a stabbing on State Street.
My first thought on the news of the stabbing (a rather serious case, too) was the less than charitable, "What a jerk."
Then we get today's Gospel. When Jesus looked at Matthew the tax collector at work, most likely the first thought of many of those standing by, even those following Jesus was probably something like mine: "Tax collector. What a jerk." But Jesus looked at him (there's always that look) and saw something else. Asked to explain himself later on, he just said, "I did not come to call the righteous but sinners." Some of those sinners are described in the first reading today from the prophet Amos. Not the blatant kind of exterior transgressors, but people with unjust hearts focused on greed, getting away with intellectual dishonesty and disregard for human dignity.
Jesus came to re-introduce something to society, but something so original that it was long lost and forgotten. The early Christian communities knew what it was and practiced it, and that is still the case in the newer Churches. At least that is what I witness time and again with people from younger Christian communities like those of Korea and Vietnam.
Last night we watched a documentary about the heroic Vietnamese Cardinal Van Thuan, the bishop who had been imprisoned by the Viet Cong for 13 years, 9 of them in solitary confinement. He had been brought up Catholic, and his grandfather's family had been martyred. Religious practices were not something taken for granted, but part of a whole life that was expected, in the most natural way, to be different from that of society in general.
In these younger Churches, as for the early Christians, you are making a commitment to a higher level of every day living, whereas here, I think, Catholicism has become comfortably assimilated to the level of ordinary human life (which then accommodates itself even more to "the desires of the flesh"). For the early Church, and for the younger Churches, it is clear that once you receive baptism, your life ought to be markedly different from the general culture: not "peculiar" and marked by odd, but picturesque, customs (the ancient letter to Diognetus makes that clear), but different in referring constantly to a higher, nobler, more transcendent standard. Even in ordinary things, one's response is calibrated to a different, more delicate scale. A truly distinctive frame of reference that applies to everything we encounter.
Something that last night's assailant clearly lacks. You can see how very small the knife-wielder's world is, how threatened he is on all sides, and therefore, how easily "disrespected" and quick to respond with violence. He has so little to defend, that in itself qualifies him unqualifiedly for Jesus' mercy.
And us?
My first thought on the news of the stabbing (a rather serious case, too) was the less than charitable, "What a jerk."
Then we get today's Gospel. When Jesus looked at Matthew the tax collector at work, most likely the first thought of many of those standing by, even those following Jesus was probably something like mine: "Tax collector. What a jerk." But Jesus looked at him (there's always that look) and saw something else. Asked to explain himself later on, he just said, "I did not come to call the righteous but sinners." Some of those sinners are described in the first reading today from the prophet Amos. Not the blatant kind of exterior transgressors, but people with unjust hearts focused on greed, getting away with intellectual dishonesty and disregard for human dignity.
Jesus came to re-introduce something to society, but something so original that it was long lost and forgotten. The early Christian communities knew what it was and practiced it, and that is still the case in the newer Churches. At least that is what I witness time and again with people from younger Christian communities like those of Korea and Vietnam.
Last night we watched a documentary about the heroic Vietnamese Cardinal Van Thuan, the bishop who had been imprisoned by the Viet Cong for 13 years, 9 of them in solitary confinement. He had been brought up Catholic, and his grandfather's family had been martyred. Religious practices were not something taken for granted, but part of a whole life that was expected, in the most natural way, to be different from that of society in general.
In these younger Churches, as for the early Christians, you are making a commitment to a higher level of every day living, whereas here, I think, Catholicism has become comfortably assimilated to the level of ordinary human life (which then accommodates itself even more to "the desires of the flesh"). For the early Church, and for the younger Churches, it is clear that once you receive baptism, your life ought to be markedly different from the general culture: not "peculiar" and marked by odd, but picturesque, customs (the ancient letter to Diognetus makes that clear), but different in referring constantly to a higher, nobler, more transcendent standard. Even in ordinary things, one's response is calibrated to a different, more delicate scale. A truly distinctive frame of reference that applies to everything we encounter.
Something that last night's assailant clearly lacks. You can see how very small the knife-wielder's world is, how threatened he is on all sides, and therefore, how easily "disrespected" and quick to respond with violence. He has so little to defend, that in itself qualifies him unqualifiedly for Jesus' mercy.
And us?
Thursday, July 01, 2010
Still talking TOB
Sr Helena has been at a Theology of the Body course all week, studying under the masterful Michael Waldstein, and turning his lectures into tweets.
A week or so ago, she had sent me a link to this: Marcel Lejeune at Texas A & M posted a lengthy critique of Dawn Eden's Master's Thesis, which was itself a critique of Christopher West's teaching, especially his earliest teachings, on the Theology of the Body. I was reminded of that today by another post about Eden's thesis, this one favorable to her approach. Both posts are worth reading.
I haven’t read West, so I can’t really say one thing about him or his books, except to give thanks to God that someone recognized the life-changing power hidden in the Pope’s insights, and started to get the word out to others. If TOB is “revolutionary,” perhaps it is in this sense. An example: Decades ago. Karl Rahner remarked half-jokingly that Catholics didn’t know what to do with the doctrine of the Trinity; that most were probably unknowing tritheists. TOB has revealed the Trinity as so much more than a “doctrine” for us to piously affirm; it really is the central truth of life! We always “believed” this, but suddenly have a way to appreciate it and let it truly inform our prayer, our liturgical life, and our relationships. If we let TOB in, isn’t that revolutionary?
For those who find JP2’s talks “often obscurely expressed and suffer[ing], at least to my philosophical mind, many gaps in argument” [Liccione] could it be that they have been working with earlier versions of the talks? As Michael Waldstein has found, the original TOB was a book, practically ready for the publisher when Karol Wojtyla was made Pope, at which point the Curia informed him that Popes don’t publish books as private authors. So he took the material, shifted the order, and presented it piecemeal–which is how it was translated and published in L’Osservatore Romano’s various editions. The first printed books, including the one-volume “Theology of the Body,” relied on these less than optimal texts. Waldstein had access to the Polish originals, in the original order, with their original subheadings, etc. (all of which had been lost in the talks), so the new, critical translation (under the title, “Man and Woman He Created Them”) is really the way to go. Above all, the original order of the topics may resolve a good bit of the obscurity Liccione found.
What I especially love about TOB is the way it brings the whole of Scripture, liturgy, doctrine and “real life” together. As Waldstein, and also Scripture scholar William Kurz, SJ, put it, the Theology of the Body is a sapiential reading of the Scriptures, a wisdom reading of the Bible given to a generation and a culture that is desperately in need of it.
There is so much in TOB that it would be a shame for those who find it life-giving and awe-inspiring to lose themselves in carping with each other or breaking up into camps, rather than promoting its core insights as widely as possible. How useful is it, really, for the new evangelization, to critique other evangelizers? I believe that at this early stage in the service of the Theology of the Body, the most urgent task we have is to make it known to people who are desperate for it.
A week or so ago, she had sent me a link to this: Marcel Lejeune at Texas A & M posted a lengthy critique of Dawn Eden's Master's Thesis, which was itself a critique of Christopher West's teaching, especially his earliest teachings, on the Theology of the Body. I was reminded of that today by another post about Eden's thesis, this one favorable to her approach. Both posts are worth reading.
I haven’t read West, so I can’t really say one thing about him or his books, except to give thanks to God that someone recognized the life-changing power hidden in the Pope’s insights, and started to get the word out to others. If TOB is “revolutionary,” perhaps it is in this sense. An example: Decades ago. Karl Rahner remarked half-jokingly that Catholics didn’t know what to do with the doctrine of the Trinity; that most were probably unknowing tritheists. TOB has revealed the Trinity as so much more than a “doctrine” for us to piously affirm; it really is the central truth of life! We always “believed” this, but suddenly have a way to appreciate it and let it truly inform our prayer, our liturgical life, and our relationships. If we let TOB in, isn’t that revolutionary?
For those who find JP2’s talks “often obscurely expressed and suffer[ing], at least to my philosophical mind, many gaps in argument” [Liccione] could it be that they have been working with earlier versions of the talks? As Michael Waldstein has found, the original TOB was a book, practically ready for the publisher when Karol Wojtyla was made Pope, at which point the Curia informed him that Popes don’t publish books as private authors. So he took the material, shifted the order, and presented it piecemeal–which is how it was translated and published in L’Osservatore Romano’s various editions. The first printed books, including the one-volume “Theology of the Body,” relied on these less than optimal texts. Waldstein had access to the Polish originals, in the original order, with their original subheadings, etc. (all of which had been lost in the talks), so the new, critical translation (under the title, “Man and Woman He Created Them”) is really the way to go. Above all, the original order of the topics may resolve a good bit of the obscurity Liccione found.
What I especially love about TOB is the way it brings the whole of Scripture, liturgy, doctrine and “real life” together. As Waldstein, and also Scripture scholar William Kurz, SJ, put it, the Theology of the Body is a sapiential reading of the Scriptures, a wisdom reading of the Bible given to a generation and a culture that is desperately in need of it.
There is so much in TOB that it would be a shame for those who find it life-giving and awe-inspiring to lose themselves in carping with each other or breaking up into camps, rather than promoting its core insights as widely as possible. How useful is it, really, for the new evangelization, to critique other evangelizers? I believe that at this early stage in the service of the Theology of the Body, the most urgent task we have is to make it known to people who are desperate for it.
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