Father Norm's Notebook

The Value of History

2012-02-09T12:35:00.001-05:00

I have been reading M. Edmund Hussey's new book Archbishop Purcell of Cincinnati. FatherHussey is a priest of the Archdiocese of Cincinnati. Archbishop Purcell, from1833 to 1883, was the second bishop of Cincinnati.

John Baptist Purcell wasborn in Ireland in 1800,came to the United States in1818, entered Mount Saint Mary's Seminary in Emmitsburg,Maryland, in 1820, and was ordained a priestin 1826 in the cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris, France.

Upon his return to America, Purcell served as ateacher and then rector of Mount Saint Mary's, his alma mater. In 1833 he wasconsecrated bishop and was formally installed as bishop on November 14 of thatyear.

The record of Purcell's 50 years as ordinary of the dioceseis overshadowed by what has become known as the "1878 Financial Failureof the Purcell Bank." Rather thanentrust their savings to area banks (which frequently went bankrupt) manyCatholic Cincinnatians entrusted their funds to Bishop Purcell's brother, FatherEdward Purcell, for safekeeping and for earning interest. Having invested thesefunds in church building projects, the Purcells faced the day when there was a"run" on the Purcell bank and neither the bishop nor his brothercould meet the demand. One of the kindest criticisms was the observation that"Edward Purcell's record keeping was casual to say the least."

With 20/20 hindsight we can see another shadow cast over theCatholic Church during the Purcell years, namely the Church's attitude towardslavery.

It was common practice not to assign bishops favoringabolition to dioceses in the southern states.

Although Ohio as a wholemaintained opposition to slavery, Father Hussey notes, "southern Ohio resented studentabolitionists and also the growing number of free Negroes who were competitionfor unskilled white laborers."

Just five years after coming to Cincinnati Purcell hadpublicly noted the inconsistency between the existence of slavery in

America

and the American principle that all men are created free.

After the bombardment of Fort Sumter Catholic bishops northand south tended to give loyal support to their respective regions. On oneoccasion Purcell suggested that the South could convert their abolitionist foesif only it would agree to end slavery over the next 50 or 100 years. In theface of backlash to Purcell's remark, the CatholicTelegraph, the diocesan newspaper, explained that Purcell was not sayingthat the federal governemnt had the right to demand abolition.

Hussey believes that the CatholicTelegraph "tried to balance two somewhat inconsistent editorialpolicies, one stressing the interests of white workers" (there was thefear that emancipated slaves would move north and take jobs) "and theother upholding African American rights against white prejudice."

The Telegraph's April15, 1863, editorial sounds patronizing and derogatory, suggesting that Negroescannot compete with the white man ("Itis not in his blood or muscle or brain"). Then affirming itsopposition to restoring slavery (Lincolnhad issued his emancipation proclamation), the editorial turned again, saying, "We do not wish to see the black man incompetition with the white. We desire to see them far apart; there ought to beno partnership between the two races...The natural superiority of the whiterace ought to be carefully observed."

The inconsistencies between Purcell's statements and theeditorials of his newspaper make it difficult to discern his true convictionsregarding slavery and the black race versus white supremacy.

After the war the CatholicTelegraph sometimes advocated leniency toward the South but declared itselfopposed to Negro suffrage. The paper stated that it was the Christian thing forwhites and blacks to live side by side but the editor was vague about particulars.

Hussey's history of Archbishop Purcell is available for Nookand Kindle readers for only a dollar.

Hussey did not write hagiography, but tells the story of a realperson living in difficult times.

Purcell's story serves as a reminder that human beings areoften a bundle of contradictions, that all of us must work through our fearsand prejudices, that we are capable of heroic action and fallible choices.

It would be the height of hypocrisy to condemn the manbecause of failures. At the same time it is worth noting the caution we oughtto place upon our own judgments and those of others. History is our teacher.

Philosopher/poet George Santayana put it succinctly: "Thosewho cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."

A Climate of Fear

2012-02-02T06:06:00.002-05:00

Fear is an emotional response to the threat of danger. Itoften induces flight or excessive caution. Sometimes itparalyzes.

"Do not be afraid" is frequently heaven's advicein encounters between God and human beings.

Fear or inducing fear is a common tool used by those inauthority to maintain control over their subjects. Israel's God uses it with people,parents use it with children, court judges use it with those on trial, bishopsuse it with priests.

The Book of Proverbs teaches that fear of the Lord is thebeginning of knowledge (1:7). The Hebrew word for fear is yare. Depending on context it can also be rendered reverence, butthere are psychological and emotional differences between fear and reverence.

Bishops deserve reverence. They take the place of theapostles. We give them the title "Most Reverend."

But are bishops to be feared? They themselves agreed that"in exercising his office of father and pastor the bishop should be withhis people as one who serves" (Vatican II, Christus Dominus, 16).

Lumen Gentium, 28,explained that priests should see in their diocesan bishop "a true fatherand obey him with all respect," while the bishop "should treat thepriests, his helpers, as his sons and friends, just as Christ calls hisdisciples no longer servants but friends."

The relationship between bishop and priest, between bishopand people, between priest and people, then, is to be marked by reverence, notfear.

Should bishops be afraid? The relationship between bishops andthe pope is difficult to comprehend. And without doubt we hold that the collegeof bishops has no authority unless united with the Roman Pontiff as its head.Nevertheless it is also clear that bishops are not to be regarded as vicars ofthe Roman Pontiff (Christus Dominus,27). They have authority too.

Bishops owe the pope reverence but should they be afraid ofhim or fear the Curia (the Holy Office, that is, the Vatican bureaucracy)?

It is well-known that the bishops at Vatican II were eagerto reform the Curia. For example, Bishop Maximos IV (more correctly known as HisBeatitude Maximos IV Saigh) proposed the establishment of a central governmentof the Church composed of pope and bishops from around the world rather thanpope and Roman-oriented clergy. He urged a rotating membership. He said he wanted thecentral office to reflect the doctrine of collegiality.

Not much came of his intervention. Historian John O'Malleynoted that the proposal to create a body superior to the Curia waswell-received by most in the assembly, but Pope Paul VI stepped in and createdthe less effective Synod of Bishops as an alternative.

How the Church was to be run was a fundamental issue at theCouncil. Would it continue its highly centralized mode of operation or would itaccept management with broader consultation and sharing of responsibility?

Saigh's proposal to reform the Curia or create a superior bodyfor oversight of the Curia's work did not produce much fruit. In many areas it seems as if Vatican II never happened.

The collegiality ofconferences of bishops around the world has been stifled; for example, the USBishops' Conference's translation of the Roman Missal was rejected by the Vatican and thecurrent translation was substituted.

Pope Benedict XVI has permitted use of the Tridentine Liturgy(the reformation of which was the primary focus of the liturgical renewalenvisioned by the Council).

The Vatican's handling of the pedophilia crisis, thesilencing of Church representatives who discuss ordination of women, the secretdisciplinary meetings reprimanding bishops and priests, the refusal to include incatechetical texts the writings of Trappist monk Thomas Merton on the spirituallife --all seem contrary to the direction of Vatican II.

Further, these policies and disciplines create a climate of fear. Priestsare afraid of being reprimanded or disciplined by their bishops; bishops fear censure by theCuria.

As a result many if not most bishops are reluctant to acceptany innovative ways of evangelizing or overseeing their dioceses lest they offend Roman sensibilities. Bishopsroutinely require letters of acceptability from other bishops before allowingspeakers into their dioceses. An Ohiopriest was reprimanded by his bishop for publicly criticizing the new Romanmissal translation.

Reverence is never out of style, but there is a great dealof fear in the Church climate of 2012.

As I look at the Church I think things are not as they should be, andI know that reform has always been part of the Church's self-assessment (reformans et reformanda).

I need to remind myself frequently that Jesusremains the life and spirit of his Church, no matter its confused state. I need to pray for the ongoing reform of the Church. I need to hear, "Do not be afraid."

AUSCP - A Voice for Priests

2012-01-26T07:30:00.000-05:00

Fifty priests from nine dioceses in five states gathered in Columbus, Ohio,on January 24, 2012, for a regional meeting of the newly formed Association ofUnited States Catholic Priests (AUSCP).

Their agenda included two talks, the first by Father DonCozzens (Cleveland) on the consequences ofmaking a commitment to the priesthood, the second by Father Jim Bacik (Toledo) on the"dialectical virtues" required of priests if they are to followChrist faithfully. Small group discussions and organizational business itemsinterspersed the day-long meeting.

This regional gathering reflects the AUSCP's efforts toorganize a collective voice for the Roman Catholic priests across the country.

AUSCP began in August of 2011 when 27 priests from 15dioceses in 11 states plus one Religious Order priest met to found anassociation with two major goals: 1) to offer fraternal support to priests and2) to create a collegial voice.

Most priests (many laity) know that there is a divisionamong priests in the United States, basically three groups or"cohorts" of priests modeling their theology and ministry on PopeJohn XXIII/Vatican II, Pope John Paul II, or Pope Benedict XVI.

In his presentation Father Bacik clarified the differencebetween Vatican II priests and JPII priests under two operative models ofpriesthood: servant/leader (inspired by Vatican II) or spiritual father(inspired by Pope John Paul II).

The servant/leader model tends to see a priest in terms ofministry shared with the laity, of witness to social justice issues, ofexploring how the Gospel is to be translated into today's world.

The spiritual father model tends to see a priest in terms ofdirecting the laity in their service to the Church, of piety in prayer, ofmaintaining orthodoxy.

(The distinction between JPII priests and B16 priests isstill being clarified, but the major difference may be that the latter are farless influenced by the letter and spirit of the Second Vatican Council.)

With rare exceptions the members of the AUSCP (some 350) arethe seniors (over 55 years) of the US presbyterate, heavily influencedby the changes initiated by Vatican II.

One of the major topics of discussion at the regionalmeeting was the perception that the Curia and the last two popes have beenpulling back on the reforms and vision articulated during the Second VaticanCouncil.

The most recent example of hierarchical backtracking is thenewly required English translation of the Roman Missal.

Whereas Vatican II proposed that "the regulation of theliturgy within certain defined limits belongs also to various kinds of bishops'conferences" (Lumen Gentium22.2), the Vatican'sCongregation for Divine Worship and Discipline of the Sacraments rejected the U.S. Bishops'recommendation of an English translation and devised a different one. The United StatesBishops submitted.

One of the priests attending the AUSCP regional meeting saidhe was reprimanded by his bishop for publicly criticizing the new translation and ordered by the bishopnot to write any further about the liturgy.

Many members complained of the awkwardness of the RomanMissal translation, and acknowledged stumbling over some phrases and omittingothers. Some thought the language harkened back to a theology of our"meriting" God's love rather than the theology of seeing God's grace andsalvation as gift.

Still other priests acknowledged an atmosphere of fear inthe Church, priests fearing their bishops, and bishops fearing the Curia.

Some lamented the inability to communicate with thehierarchy without fear of reprisal, and others acknowledged the threat to theirpersonal integrity and the anxiety of following one's conscience vis-a-visRoman control and certain diocesan policies and practices. All seem eager topreserve the legacy of Vatican II.

The regional meeting also surfaced the priests' love fortheir people and their deep appreciation of their role as presiders at liturgy.

Despite the expression of caution and concern, there wasagreement on the hopes and dreams engendered by Vatican II and its aftermath.

AUSCP will hold its first national meeting in June of 2012,including presentations by Father Anthony Ruff, OSB, St. John's Abbey, teacher of liturgy at St John's University School of Theology-Seminary; by Richard R.Gaillardetz, University of Toledo, theologian in ecclesiology; and by FatherDonald Cozzens, teacher at John Carroll University and author of The Changing Face of the Priesthood and Faith That Dares To Speak.

Also in attendance at the national gathering will be the St.Louis Jesuits (the Catholic composers well-known in the 1970s and 80s) andArchbishop Rembert G. Weakland, OSB, retired archbishop of Milwaukee.

Further information about the AUSCP is availableat info4@uscatholicpriests.us or 724-850-1616.

The Sign of the Cross

2012-01-19T17:01:00.000-05:00

It is said that the oldest extant depiction of Jesus'crucifixion is a piece of griffito found on the wall of a building unearthed onone of the seven hills of ancient Rome.

The dating is uncertain, maybe the third century.

The drawing (discovered in 1857) looks like something doneby a child on an Etch-A-Sketch. A man is looking at a cross on which hangs ahuman form but with the head of a donkey. The artist has scratched across hisartwork a description in Latin which is usually translated: "Alexamenos worshipshis God."

The artist was mocking the Christian admission that Jesus,Son of God, was crucified!

We who have grown accustomed to seeing images of thecrucified Lord can scarcely imagine the shock and disdain with which both Jewsand Gentiles heard the Christian claim.

Paul acknowledged that preaching a Christ crucified was"a stumbling block to the Jews and foolishness to Gentiles" (1 Cor1:23).

It would bother us today if Jesus were depicted in anelectric chair or with a noose around his neck. I suspect our repulsion at suchan idea would fall short of the reaction of those who first heard Paul'spreaching.

Dominican Father Timothy Radcliffe has concluded that ittook the Church 400 years to dare to portray Christ on the cross, on the doorof S. Sabina (a church on another one of Rome'sseven hills).

Christians are not ashamed of the thought and image of acrucified Lord. They see it as a sign of the depths of God's love, a clearindication of how much God identified with the sinfulness of the human race sothat he might restore them to innocence. It is said that Jesus paid the penaltywhich was due our sins.

Our ease with looking at a crucifix, our appreciation forChrist's sacrifice, however, must not keep us from recognizing that those whofollow in Jesus' footsteps are expected to pick up a cross and walk behind him.

From the start Christians have likewise been crucified.Some, like Peter, were actually nailed to cross beams. Others have beenexecuted for professing their faith. Still others (the majority of Christians)have had to lay down their lives in order to live according to the Gospel.

When I feel the pinch of being Christian I must remindmyself of the example Jesus gave. At that point a cross or crucifix ceases tobe an icon or a piece of jewelry and becomes the sign of a true disciple.

I like the story of the man who complained to God that hiscross was too much. So God invited him into heaven's "cross room"and told him to lay down his cross and select another from the many modelshanging around the warehouse.

The man tried several on for size. One was too heavy, onehad beams too broad for the man's shoulders, and other had such rough andsplintered wood that the man thought it worse than his original.

Finally he selected a cross, and told Jesus, "This isthe one!"

Jesus smiled, "Good," the Lord said, "I am gladyou found one that fits. I must tell you, however, that the cross you chose isthe one you came in with!"

No Christian escapes his cross. Once we acknowledge thatlittle bit of wisdom (and make friends with the cross we have) the Christianexperience becomes a good bit easier.

I don't know who Alexamenos was, but I trust he didn't let a piece of graffito dissuade him from following Christ.

Catechists or Theologians?

2012-01-13T08:32:00.000-05:00

Are priests, pastors, preachers supposed to be catechists or theologians?

In 1992 Pope John Paul II formally issued Catechism of the Catholic Church,presenting it as "a statement of the Church's faith and of catholicdoctrine." He declared it to be "a sure norm for

teaching the faithand thus a valid and legitimate instrument for ecclesial communion."

He asked his fellow bishops and all the faithful "toreceive this catechism in a spirit of communion and to use it assiduously infulfilling their mission of proclaiming the faith and calling people to theGospel life."

He called the CCC "a sure and authentic reference textfor teaching catholic doctrine and particularly for preparing local catechisms."

A second edition of the CCC, with some changes, waspublished in 1997

In 2006 the United States Catholic Bishops published a "localcatechism," United States Catholic Catechismfor Adults, described as an adaptation of the CCC.

The USversion is more reader-friendly than the Vatican's catechism, and tries to relate theChurch's teaching to the culture of the

United States

. Most chapters beginwith stories about saintly people, many of them Americans, e.g., ElizabethSeton, Orestes Brownson, Junipero Serra.

Both the CCC and the US catechism were written to servea noble and necessary purpose. We need to know the Church doctrine; we needtools to insure faithful and comprehensive teaching of the truths of our faith.Both of these publications are to be hailed as authentic reference texts.

The U.S. Catholic Bishops have developed guidelines forpublishers of catechetical materials. These guidelines insist on a corecurriculum to insure doctrinal content in the instruction of young people of high-school-age. (Significantlythe presentation of these doctrinal elements includes far more references tothe CCC than to the

U.S.

adaptation.)

Although the US adaptation is not as widely used or known inour country as the CCC, both are most helpful in catechesis, faith formation,and even research of Church doctrine.

There is a flip-side, however, namely, the tendency to thinkthat a catechism answer or explanation is necessarily the only way ofunderstanding and holding on to a truth.

Those of us who memorized the Baltimore Catechism as youngsters still remember some of the answersit provided. "A sacrament is an outward sign, instituted by Christ, togive grace."

That answer is valid, but falls far short of the fullreality. When we learned that there are seven sacraments, we did not count onan ecumenical council's also saying that the Church itself is in the nature ofa sacrament (cf. Lumen Gentium, #1).

Pope John XXIII made it clear at the start of the SecondVatican Council that fundamental teachings of the Church always remain thesame, but the way they are presented can change.

And this preservation of truth joined with changing culturesand language as well as the potential for gaining new insight and deeperunderstanding of a truth is the task of theologians.

An old notion endures that the pope alone is in charge ofthe Church and that bishops are simply local representatives of the pope. Withoutprejudice to the rightful authority of the Bishop of Rome, it is also true that"together with their head, the Supreme Pontiff, and never apart from him,they (bishops) have supreme and full authority over the universal Church evenif this power cannot be exercised without the agreement of the Roman Pontiff(cf. Lumen Gentium, #22).

How the pope can be the supreme authority and at the sametime how the bishops can have supreme authority is something of a conundrum, andit is the role of theologians to probe such mystery and find ways of expressingthe truth in its fullness.

There is also a catechism tendency to make all Churchteachings equal in certainty. In truth a catechism includes truths that willnever change plus teachings which are subject to change.

For example, you may recall answer #48 from the revised Baltimore Catechism: "When we saythat Christ descended into hell we mean that, after He died, the soul of Christdescended into a place or state of rest, called limbo, where the souls of thejust are waiting for him." Today the existence of limbo is almostuniversally questioned, and significantly the official Church has neitherdefended or abrogated the teaching.

Theologians (whether working in systematics, liturgy,patristics, etc) explore the truths of faith and work to keep us accurate andhonest in our presentation of those truths.

Theologians remind a pastor who tells his congregation,"I am here to save your souls" that Christ has already done that. Theologiansremind us that there is evidence of women deacons, evidence that in the earlyChurch any Christian could administer the anointing of the sick, evidence that bishopswere elected by their local congregations.

It is not a matter of "either/or" when it comes topraising catechists or theologians. It is "both/and."

Seminaries have the obligation to form priests who are asadept in theologizing as they are in catechizing. Emphasizing one to the neglectof the other would be a disservice to the Church and the Gospel.

Theology keeps us aware of the hierarchy of truths, and preserves the mindset that there is always more to learn and other ways of formulating a truth.

Priests, pastors, preachers are supposed to be theologians and catechists.

Mystery of Church

2012-01-05T13:10:00.001-05:00

The unfolding of the history of the Church remains amystery.

This institution/community/herald/sacrament/servant which ischarged by Jesus Christ with the responsibility of building the Kingdom of God on earth often seems inept,dysfunctional, and off track.

From the start there were conflicts. Mark's Gospel accountrecords the contest between the sons of Zebedee and the other ten apostles(10:41). James and John wanted preferential treatment when Jesus came into hiskingdom and the others took offense at their chutzpah in asking for it.

Paul and Peter got into it over requirements imposed onGentiles who wanted to join the new way. Paul told the Galatians, "Andwhen Kephas came to Antioch,I opposed him to his face, because he clearly was wrong" (2:11).

And before the Church was 100 years old the extant lettersof Clement, Barnabas and Ignatius were warning believers against false doctrineand practices. Clement was upset about a revolt against the presbyters (elders)in the Church at Corinth.Barnabas advised the Christians to avoid schism and to "pacify and bringtogether those who are quarreling." Ignatius lamented to the Church at Ephesus that "certainpersons from elsewhere, who have evil doctrine, have stayed with you."

Christians in the fourth century were still arguing overwhether Jesus was divine. It took a council of bishops at Nicea in 325 AD tosettle the matter and declare that Jesus was indeed homousion tō patri (Greek for "one in being," i.e.,consubstantial with the Father).

A really big break or schism in the Church occurred in the 11th century when conflict erupted(not for the first time) between the pope in Romeand the patriarch in Constantinople. Politics(the papacy wanted to get out from under the control of the emperor)complicated the scene but in essence the Roman pontiff was declaring himselfruler of the Church and the Christians of the East resented the effort toreduce the authority of the patriarch.

A second really big break occurred in the 16th century --wecall it the Protestant Reformation.

And some are suggesting that we may be standing on the cuspof yet another schism, not so much a public denunciation of Roman authoritywith the formation of a new sect, but a schism of indifference in which Vatican power and control are simply ignored.

Hopes were high in many Church quarters following the SecondVatican Council that there would be greater cooperation between the Vatican andconferences of bishops around the world. Those hopes were soon challenged anddeflated. Many thought that the Curia (the Vatican bureaucracy) and John PaulII were making a concerted effort to close any windows John XXIII and VaticanII might have opened.

The Vatican'srecent rejection of the English translation of the Roman Missal as developed bythe International Commission on English in the Liturgy (a mixed committee ofbishops from English speaking countries formed to provide English translationsfor the liturgy) is a Vatican power-play.

The new translation imposed on most English speakingcountries (South Africaseems to have a indult allowing use of the initial ICEL translation which the

Vatican

first accepted and then rejected) is an example not only of poor English but ofreining in the authority of bishops' conferences.

The distorted translation, the disruption of Mass, the decisionby many priests to disregard some expressions in the translation and retain theuse of others are viral signs undermining unity and peace in the Church.

When those in authority use a too heavy-handed approachthose affected by that authority tend to rebel, ignore, challenge, or walkaway. It remains to be seen what the ultimate outcome will be.

Catholics who think of the Vatican and the pope as theexclusive authority in the Church will accept the new translation andsubsequent efforts to close the window.

Catholics who recognize that bishops, together with thepope, have supreme and full power over the universal Church (cf. Vatican II's Lumen Gentium, #22) will wonder why thebishops' conferences simply gave in to a poor English translation and to therejection of their authority.

It is doubtful that the Roman Curia and its departmentsserving the pope underwent the reorganization and modernization that thebishops at Vatican II called for (cf. ChristusDominus, #9).

Conflict, dissent, power plays have been part of theChurch's history from the beginning. It is difficult to appreciate how thisongoing dysfunction would be allowed by the Lord who sent it into the world tobuild the Kingdom of God.

The mystery of God's will (and patience) tests our faith,but in faith we hold to the conviction that the Holy Spirit continues to guidethe Church through and in spite of our human foibles.

The mystery of it all remains intact.

Merry Christmass

2011-12-18T15:50:00.002-05:00

It amuses me that many people wish others a Merry Christmaswithout any awareness of what that greeting means.

The Spanish-speaking peoples say, "Feliz Navidad,"which means "Happy Nativity." The Italians say much the same thing intheir "Buon Natale." The French duplicate it in "Joyeux Noel." All three refer to the birth of Christ.

The Germans wish you "Frőhliche Weihnachten,"which is roughly rendered, "Happy Consecrated (i.e., Holy) Night."

I like the sound of the Hawaiian greeting, "MeleKalikimaka," borrowed directly from the English "MerryChristmas," but pronounced quite differently because there is no"r" or "s" in Hawaiian.

And that brings us back to the greeting English-speakingpeople use. It comes from the old English wordcrīstesmæsse, which means "Christ's Mass."

The celebration of Jesus' birth used to be called "the ChristMass," and from that expression came our "MerryChristmas."

It is true that we do not know the date or even the year of Jesus' birth. We conclude fromthe Gospels of Matthew and Luke that Jesus was born in Bethlehem.

St. Francis of Assisi,however, helped the Middle Ages think more of Jesus' birthwhen he put together a Christmas creche, the forerunner of the cribsets we see every year in our churches, in our homes, and sometimes in publicplaces.

I hear that Members of the House of Representatives have been told that they may not say "Merry Christmas" anymore in their official mail if they wish to use the franking privilege, that is, if they want to get their postage paid at tax payer's expense.

And every year, between Thanksgiving and Christmas, there is controversy about whether retailers
will allow their clerks and cashiers to wish customers "Merry Christmas."

I suspect that in a few years there will be a push to give December 25 a new name.

We know that "Season's Greetings" is already a common euphemsism. Maybe the PCP (the Politically Correct Police) will being on enough pressure to designate December 25 as "Greetings Day" or "Peace On Earth Day" or "Winter's Holiday" (although that last one won't work in the southern hemisphere).

Well, whatever they try to foist off on us, it will still be for Christians the feast of the birth of Jesus Christ.

And even if the PCP are successful in coining a new name for it, many of us English-speaking Catholics will cling to our traditional "Merry Christmas!"

That greeting will make us smile because on that holy day we gather at Mass to celebrate the Incarnation --our faith conviction that God took on human nature and pitched his tent among us.

It will still be Jesus' birthday no matter what the PCP call it. And we will still celebrate a Merry Christ Mass.

And I happily wish you a Merry Christ Mass too!

Prevenient Grace

2011-12-11T14:28:00.001-05:00

Prevenient grace?

At Mass on December 8, Feast of the Immaculate Conception,the Prayer over the Offerings used the term "prevenient grace" todescribe God's intervention to keep Mary "untouched by any stain ofsin."

Prior to our use of the new Roman English translation weprayed, "You kept her free from sin from the first moment of herlife."

The expression "prevenient grace" does not falltrippingly off the tongue. The Council of Trent used the Latin "a Dei perdominum Christum Iesum praeveniente gratia" (rendered "a predisposing grace of God throughJesus Christ" in the English translation I use of Trent, session 6,chapter 5.)

The theology behind Trent's"prevenient or predisposing grace" is the Catholic Church'sconviction that "actual justification in adults takes its origin from apredisposing grace of God through Jesus Christ ...with no existing merits ontheir side" (ibid). Thus, those who had turned from God by sins aredisposed by God's grace to turn back and become justified by freely assentingto that grace.

The term "prevenient grace" is probably morefamiliar among Calvinists and Methodists, who disagree with one another aboutthe fine points of the concept. Calvinists hold that God's will alone bringssalvation, rejecting the Wesleyan Methodist' belief that people must respond tothe grace. Calvinists say that grace is either common or special, and specialgrace is given only to the elect and is irresistible. Wesleyans insist that prevenientgrace can be accepted or rejected.

Further, Calvinists reject what they call "universal enablement,"the idea that God offers salvation and justification to everybody.

The predominant use of the term "prevenient grace"in Protestant circles differs somewhat from the Catholic use of the termregarding Mary's Immaculate Conception.

The Catholic theology of the special prerogative given toMary (to be "conceived without sin") does indeed imply a prevenientgrace. This particular prevenient grace was given uniquely to Mary, givenbefore and in anticipation of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

I never dreamed the new Roman English translation of Massprayers would lead to such a maze of theologizing.

I hope to be better prepared next December 8th to enunciatethat peculiar phrase, but I suspect I will still be wishing I could say,"You kept her free from sin from the first moment of her life." Thatseems to me easier to say and understand, and for me a lot more joyful and prayerful.

Once Upon a Time

2011-12-05T03:03:00.001-05:00

Once upon a time there was a CEO who was painfully awarethat his business was failing, but he was afraid to confront the reasons forthe failure head-on.

Fear seemed to be prevalent throughout the company. Theboard was afraid of the CEO, the CEO was afraid of the board, and the managementteams were afraid of both. Some individual site managers were afraid too; many werefrustrated, disconsolate, or angry.

Customers were perplexed by the company's poor showing. Ithad a great product, the public need was as strong as ever, but consumptionwas down.

Recognizing that some top level response was needed, the CEOand the board issued a series of memos. The memos did not address the issues actuallyresponsible for the decline. Instead they cited employees for failing to followthe policy handbook or they reiterated policies that had proved ineffective fordecades.

One memo insisted that employees in their official businesscapacity should use a style of language which was awkward and in some casessimply odd.

Many managers, employees, and even some customers tried tounderstand and implement the company directives. Some responded half-heartedly.Some walked away.

The owner of the business showed remarkable restraint. Hewaited patiently for the fear to dissipate, for the board to review itsmission, for the customers to return. He never gave up, but sometimes thecustomers and the site managers, the supervisors and the management teammembers wondered, "Where is he? When will he step in and do something aboutthe business he so deeply loves?"

Witness To Jesus

2011-11-24T18:54:00.001-05:00

Odd, isn't it, that perhaps the most talked-about andcontroversial witness to Jesus and the Christian faith in

America

today is a professionalfootball player?

Tim Tebow, quarterback of the Denver Broncos, is praised bysome and ridiculed by others for falling down on one knee and assuming aposture of prayer on the football field.

When he played for the Florida Gators he sometimes wrote aBible verse on the black strip under his eyes. It is said that in 2009, duringand shortly after a televised college bowl championship game, when Tebow wore"John 3:16," Google counted 92 million hits on that exact NewTestament verse.

In 2010 the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA)issued a new rule prohibiting players from wearing messages on their eye black.Some say the rule was inspired by Ohio State's Terrelle Pryor's putting on hiseye black the name "Mike Vick," his tribute to the pro quarterbackwho was charged with the felony of promoting dog fighting and the gamblingassociated with it. Vick pleaded guilty.

Others say the NCAA rule was in response to Tebow'sevangelizing on the field. NCAA officials denied that assumption, but manydub the decision "the Tebow Rule." The NFL already had a similar rulein place so Tebow did not carry his custom into professional play.

In 2010 Tebow won plaudits and condemnation from fans forappearing in two television commercials during Super Bowl XLIV. The ads weresponsored by Focus on the Family, an organization on the Christian right foundedby James Dobson. Tebow was telling his personal story in a pro-life context,and several pro-choice groups condemned the ad.

A November 24, 2011, article on the Huffington Post website confirmed that teammates and coachesbelieve Tebow is honest and sincere, that his commitment to Christ is as realoff the field as on.

Tebow wrote in his autobiography Through My Eyes, "For as long as I can remember, this wasinstilled in me: to have fun, love Jesus and others, and tell them aboutHim."

As a Christian I am proud of Tebow's witness. As a priest Iam a bit embarrassed --not by his witness but by my failure to be as committedan evangelist.

Granted his "pulpit" is much bigger than mine, buthis commitment to Christ and giving witness to Him is bigger too.

Climate in Washington

2011-11-18T18:24:00.001-05:00

I just returned from preaching a parish mission in Seattle.

I asked myself on the plane ride back, "What did youlearn from this experience?"

The most surprising bit of information was about Seattle's weather. I hadthe idea that Washingtonstate had cold and very snowy winters. The residents of Edmonds,Washington, just north of Seattle, corrected my misconception.

They told me that they have relatively mild winters(compared to Ohio),and that they seldom get more than two inches of snow at a time. (They werequick to add that weather was different on the east side of the state. There itsnowed more and got lots colder.)

I did a little research and found this puzzzling description: "Because the CascadeMountains run parallel to the coast the entirelength of the state, Washingtonis divided into two distinct climates. The western third has a temperate rainforest climate, while the eastern two-thirds of the state is warmer and drier."

Just a short walkinto one of the parks in north west Washington confirmedthat it was rain forest. The moss grows on all sides of the trees!

I hadn't expectedWashingtonians (at least the people along Puget Sound)to be so concerned about snow, but as several said, "We gotta lot of hillsaround here, and it doesn't take much snow to make our streets treacherous and ourroads impassable."

I'll rememberthat when the white stuff piles up on the Queen City.There will be a momentary experience of pride when I reflect that we Buckeyescan negotiate the icy conditions with more daring and success than ourcompatriots in the Evergreen State.

Though conversationsabout the weather were frequent and sometimes animated, and though I had tochange my faulty perceptions about the climate, I did learn again (as so manytimes before and everywhere else), we Catholics are all trying to cope withsimilar situations, problems, and hopes no matter where we live.

It is common forus to ask, "Why? Why does God allow some people to suffer so much morethan others?"

"Why doesthe Church (read 'Church leadership') so often fail us and focus on theinstitution rather than on the Kingdom?"

"Why are somany nominal Catholics choosing not to participate in Sunday Mass?"

"What can Ido to grow in my spiritual life?"

Preaching aparish mission is an opportunity to probe some of the questions, acknowledgethe human dimension, and offer encouragement and direction for our ongoingconversion.

The weather maydiffer in one part of the country from another. The people may be bettereducated in one setting than in another. The economy may be more secure in oneregion over another.

But in the basics,the people, whether they are Catholics in California,Florida, New York,Louisiana, or Toledo, Ohio,are very much alike.

Every parish Ihave visited has a dedicated core of members, taking on, whether as employeesor volunteers, the mission of the Church in their locale. They welcome andshare their faith with potential converts in the RCIA program. They teachreligion to children and adults. They care for the daily needs of liturgy,building maintenance, fundraising, outreach to the poor.

They and many oftheir fellow parishioners are open to growing in their understanding of God andin their relationship with Jesus Christ.

If Washington's climate wasone of the new things I learned during this recent parish mission experience,one of the old and consistent was that the People of God, no matter where theyare, share a common heritage and hope.

More than alittle rain falls in western Washingtonand the state deserves its "Evergreen" sobriquet.

But beyond theweather, the religious and spiritual climate seems to be as full of the mysteryand searching and loving that must characterize the Kingdom of God.

They do notalways have the answers, but I think it is safe to say that many are at leastasking the right questions.

Their confidencein God allows them to say (at least on occasion), "Let it snow, let itsnow, let it snow."

Happy But Disgruntled

2011-11-10T17:11:00.001-05:00

I read two articles about priests recently and thought themat odds with each other.

The first article was a review of Why Priests Are Happy by Msgr. Stephen J. Rossetti, the results of the data collected from two surveys (the first done in 2004, the secondin 2009) concerning the psychological and spiritual health of priests.

The second article was titled "Push For Reform Grows inAustria," a report about the Austrian Priests' Initiative's "Appealto Disobedience," pledging to challenge the Vatican's stand on such issuesas ordination of married men, ordination of women, and giving communion toeveryone who approaches the altar in good faith.

Rossetti is a clinical associate professor of pastoralstudies at the Catholic University of America. He concludes that priests as awhole are highly satisfied with their lives.

Among Rossetti's findings are these statistics: 92.4% ofpriests are happy overall being priests; 88.8% have good morale; 76.6% have agood relationship with their bishop; 75.1% say celibacy has been a personalgrace; 82.1% would choose to remain celibate if priests were allowed to marry.

Two areas of concern, Rossetti said, are that priests haveexcessive workloads and that divisions over political and social issues maypose a threat to priests' sense of unity.

The Austrian Priests' Initiative was founded in 2006 byMsgr. Helmut Schuller, former vicar general of the Archdiocese of Vienna and awell-known media personality in Austria.He is currently a parish priest in a small town north of Vienna.

About 400 priests acknowledge membership in the API, roughlyone in ten active priests in Austria.They are calling for reform in several areas of the Church's teaching andpractice. Questioned about their pledge to be disobedient, spokespeople for thegroup reply that there is a higher obedience to conscience and to God.

API members (plus some 12,000 lay Catholics who support theinitiative) think that Romeis backtracking on the reforms and direction set by the Second Vatican Council.When members met with Cardinal Christoph Schőnborn of Vienna, the prelate countered their appeal todisobedience with an appeal for unity. Austrian media reported that Schőnborntold the leaders that anyone who thinks Romeis on a wrong track must leave the Catholic Church.

A spokesman for the Archdiocese told Catholic News Service,however, that the situation is not as dramatic as the Austrian media make itseem.

My initial response to these two stories was confusion. Howcan priests be so happy (the Rossetti study was American) and yet so upset withthe

Vatican

(the API is European).

Does the Rosssetti study reflect the smoke-screen of thedysfunctional family which to all appearances is happy and well-adjusted, butbehind closed doors is miserable and broken? Are priests reluctant to tell the truth about their feelings andexperiences lest they scandalize the laity? Would they answer what they thoughtthey should say rather than what they personally hold?

Are the priests of the Austrian initiative unhappy rebels,self-centered pastors, pathetic examples of vocations gone bad? Are theyreneging on their ordination promise of obedience to the bishop? If theymisinterpret the role of the hierarchy, or their personal obligation to obeytheir own consciences, is the same thing true about the priests expressingsimilar concerns in Ireland,Germany and the United States?

While I initially thought the two articles (and the twogroups of priests) to be completely at odds with each other, I'm not so surethey are really polar opposites.

Could a man be perfectly happy being a priest, and still beupset with the direction he sees the Church is going? Could a cleric recognizethat one answer to the priest shortage is allowing older married men to sayMass and still have good morale? Could a priest think celibacy is a grace forhim and still support ordaining married men?

As psychologists and spiritual writers frequently note, peopleneed not operate solely in a binary system of either/or. Dualism can give way, especially as we get older, to a unitive system, a non-dualisticmind of both/and.

Episcopal priest/teacher Cynthia Bourgeault, PhD, has beenencouraging people to develop non-dual thinking as a way of understanding theteachings of Jesus. She sees that mindset in the beatitudes, e.g.,"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for they shall see God." Blessedness and poverty seem dualities incompatible with one another, but Jesus sees it differently.

She advises her students to let the heart be an organ ofspiritual perception. "The heart," she explains, "can pick upsubtle signals from all levels of reality, not just from what's happening inthe rational...When the heart-awareness becomes fully formed within a person,he or she will be operating out of non-dual consciousness."

If I understand Bourgeault correctly there need not be agreat disconnect in a priest happy with his priesthood but upset with the waythe Church is going.

I believe that to be the case among my priest friends andacquaintances. Even if they grumble about the new translation in the RomanMissal and think the Vaticanis backtracking on Vatican II, it doesn't mean they are unhappy being priests. Infact, it may mean they take both vocation and Church very seriously.

Favorite Bible Quotes

2011-11-06T14:24:00.000-05:00

I suspect that everyone who reads the Bible has a favoritequote.

It is an extraordinary piece of literature, recording atleast two millennial of speculation and insight. Though rising from theexperience of a rather small nation, the biblical stories have a well-deservedreputation in the human search for wisdom.

I read somewhere that philosophers in second century BC Athens were inspired bythe wisdom of the Septuagint when the Hebrew Scriptures were translated intoGreek.

King Solomon, of course, developed a reputation for wisdom.Three biblical books (Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and Wisdom) are said to have beencomposed under his patronage. 1 Kings 10 reports that the queen of Sheba, hearingof Solomon's reputation, came to visit him and posed many questions. And theBible says, "King Solomon explained everything she asked about, and thereremained nothing hidden from him that he could not explain to her" (v. 3).

The Book of Proverbs is inspiring. The wisdom is obvious. "Amild answer calms wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger" (15:1). "Train a boy in the way he should go,and even when he is old he will not swerve from it" (22:6). "Letanother praise you --not your own mouth" (27:2).

I like the blessing attributed to Aaron: "The Lord blessyou and keep you! the Lord let his face shine upon you and be gracious to you! TheLord look upon you kindly and give you peace" (Numbers 6:24-26).

When I have parents in front of me, I call their attentionto Leviticus 20:9, "Anyone who curses his father or mother shall be put todeath."

Perhaps the most romantic quote in Scripture is in Genesis29:20. Jacob agreed to work for his uncle for seven years in exchange for Rachel'shand in marriage. And the Bible says, "So Jacob served seven years forRachel, yet they seemed to him but a few days because of his love forher."

Maybe the funniest line is Genesis 30:22. God has been verybusy giving Jacob one son after another through wife Leah and two maidservants,but Rachel has produced none. It strikes me humorous that in the midst of allthis baby-making, we read "Then God remembered Rachel."

Of course the New Testament provides memorable lines as well.Recall Jesus' reluctance to help the couple who ran out of wine at Cana. He tells Mary, "My hour has not yetcome," but his mother is not discouraged. She tells the servants, "Dowhatever he tells you" (John 2:5).

Paul's first letter to the Corinthians contains the mostbeautiful and accurate description of love ever written, "Love is patient,love is kind; It is not jealous, is not pompous; it is not inflated...It bearsall things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Lovenever fails" (13:4-8).

One line, however, makes me smile, gives me comfort, andwill please me immeasurably if I ever get to hear it addressed to me. It wasJesus' invitation to his disciples after a long and fruitless night of fishing.He said to them, "Come, have breakfast" (John 21:12).

I suspect everyone who reads the Bible has a favorite quote.What is yours?

Words, Words, Words

2011-10-29T11:59:00.000-04:00

Just before Mass one morning I handed the server the key andsaid, "Put this in the tabernacle for me." She left the sacristyimmediately to do so.

As I approached the altar for Mass I glanced at thetabernacle, but I could not see the key in the door. "Perhaps," Ithought, "she laid it in front of the tabernacle."

When I went to the tabernacle to retrieve the ciborium, Isaw no key --not in the lock, not in front of the tabernacle, not anywhere.

I tried pulling the small door open anyway, and it moved.Then I saw it --the server had done just as requested. She put the key in thetabernacle! She had unlocked the door, carefully laid the key inside, andclosed the door. I remembered how I worded my request. I didn't say, "Putthe key in the lock." I said, "Put the key in the tabernacle."She did as I had asked.

Language can be tricky. My friends from Pittsburgh still talk about gum bands andtubes, and say, "Yuns." I have to translate: rubber bands, tunnels,and y'all!

When we communicate with people of other languages andcultures, we have to be aware that our figures of speech may be misleading orincomprehensible to them. If I say, "He kicked the bucket" or"He bought the farm," most Americans understand these expressions asmetaphors for death. In another language or culture our expression may be taken"literally" (word for word), and my affirmation of death is misunderstood.

Failure to understand language and culture can muddy ourinterpretation of Sacred Scripture. When scholars study the Jewishness ofbiblical expressions, they often discover new interpretations of the biblicalaccounts.

For example, Jesus says it is easier for a camel to passthrough the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom (cf. Matthew19:24). The New Testament uses the Greek word kamēlon, which undoubtedly means "camel." But, if wetranslate that expression back into Aramaic (the language Jesus was likelyusing when he made that statement), Jesus may have said the Aramaic word gamla which can mean either camel or rope. "Camel" strengthens the incongruity, but "rope"makes more sense.

When Jesus advises the crowd that if the eye causes one tosin, he should tear it out (cf Mt. 5:29), he is using afigure of speech. It was not a command that we should maim ourselves, eventhough the great second century theologian Origen took the passage literallyand mutilated himself. The imagery means take appropriate steps to avoid sin.

Again in the sermon on the mount, Jesus speaks of a good eyeand a bad eye (cf Mt 6:22-23). It is possible that Jesus was using a firstcentury Jewish idiom in which "good eye" (aiyin tovah in Hebrew) meant generous, and bad eye (aiyin ra'ah) meant stingy. That passagein Matthew takes on a different tone when read in the light of that imagery.

Our ability to communicate, to understand another's words,is one of the best gifts God has given humanity. Words are so powerful that theBible uses that very term, logos, todescribe the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity: "In the beginning wasthe Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God" (John 1:1).

The importance of words and communication are obvious intoday's culture (text messaging is one minor example) and in our economy (Iwonder how many satellites we can put up there). Yet for all our technology, for all our iPads, Bluetooths(or is it Blueteeth?), lap tops, etc., we have to ask whether we really arecommunicating.

Given how easy it is to mis-communicate, to misinterpret, tojump to conclusions, we are well advised to slow down and give thought to whatwe hear and say.

Happily for President John Kennedy, the people gathered in Berlin for his visitknew what he meant when he said, "Ich bin ein Berliner," even thoughmany knew that a Berliner was a type of donut.

Whether communicating with a server in the sacristy ortrying to interpret a passage from sacred Scripture, I recognize the need topay attention to the meaning of the words and the expressions in which they areused.

I like knowing that "the Word became flesh and dweltamong us." I like the proximity and the challenge.

Rescinding Vatican II

2011-10-21T15:03:00.000-04:00

Even as I look forward to celebrating the 50th anniversaryof the first session of the Second Vatican Council, I am concerned that overthe past five decades we have seen the slow dissolution of the effects of theaggiornomento we welcomed so cheerfully.

On the Council's opening day (October 11, 1962) Pope JohnXXIII told the assembly gathered in St. Peter's in Rome that it was imperativethat the Church "bring herself up to date where required" and that"nowadays the bride of Christ prefers to make use of the medicine of mercyrather than of severity."

It seems to me that “being up to date” and “using themedicine of mercy” were such revolutionary ideas that some of the Church’sleadership feared the consequences of implementation. Within a few years of theCouncil’s conclusion the aggiornamento express was considerably slowed by Vaticanwarnings, fears, and control.

Rescissions and curbs have occurred in several areas, suchas in the exercise of the authority of bishops' conferences, but perhaps themost obvious examples are in the area of sacred liturgy.

The first major focus of the Council was the Church'sliturgy. At the close of the second session the Council definitively approvedits first major document, SacrosanctumConcilium, the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, with 2147 votes in favor,4 against, and 1 abstention.

Neither the Constitution on the Liturgy nor the CouncilFathers spelled out the details of the proposed renewal of the liturgy, butthis document provided the principles for its renewal by subsequent commissionsand committees.

The bishops agreed on such matters as:

1) the rites should be distinguished by a noble simplicity,within the people's powers of comprehension, not requiring much explanation(#34);

2) rigid uniformity should be avoided in matters that do notinvolve faith or the good of the whole community (#37);

3) territorial ecclesiastical authority, such as bishops'conferences, shall specify adaptations, especially regarding administration ofthe sacraments, the liturgical language, and sacred music (#39);

4) one of the prime guiding norms was to be the promotion offull, conscious, and active participation of the faithful (#14).

The work on renewal of the liturgy was quickly set inmotion, and a major thrust of the renewal of the liturgy was inspired by decadesof research into early Church liturgy. Looking back to the past, to how thingsused to be in the first centuries, gave permission and impetus to how therenewal could take shape.

In subtle ways, however, over the past twenty years, thechanges prompted by the liturgical renewal have been revoked or undermined. Forexample, communion by intinction (the communicant could dip the sacred hostinto the precious blood) and the purification of sacred vessels by lay men andwomen are now verboten. And then, outof the blue, we were told we could no longer vocalize at Mass God's name(Yahweh). We can still say Jesus but we can’t say Yahweh!

Next Pope Benedict XVI issued a decree allowing the use ofthe old Tridentine Liturgy, the very rites the Council had revised. One of the Vatican Bureau has instriucted seminaries to offer an optional course for seminarians and priests who wish to use this extraordinary form, the Tridentine Mass

And now the Vatican has over-ridden the English translation of the Roman Missal formulatedby the International Committee on English in the Liturgy (ICEL) and insists ona more literal translation of the Latin which smacks of rigid uniformity and isclearly a severe challenge to the comprehension of the priest-presider as wellas the people. This new Roman translation is to be used beginning November 27,2011.

And most recently, on September 21, 2011, the Diocese ofPhoenix, Arizona, notified its Catholic faithful that communion from the cupwould be restricted to special feasts and occasions. (Note that on November 7, 2011, Bishop Thomas J. Olmstead rescinded this restriction and apologized for any "pastoral problems, hurt and confusion caused by mishandling the dialogue and communication about the norms.")

For many Catholics the Second Vatican Council is ancienthistory –it was held from 1962 to 1965. To me it seems like yesterday.

It is the most significant event in Church history in mylifetime. It released a spirit and put into writing a pattern for how theChurch should fulfill its mission in the 21^st century. Church law and the Catechism of the Catholic Church confirm that "the college of bishops exercises power over the universal Church in a solemn manner in an ecumenical council" (Canon 337; CCC 884).
To ignore it, to try to reverse it, is in my humble opinion counter-productive and a stifling of the guidance of the Holy Spirit.

Join the revolution. Support Vatican II. Read the documentsand celebrate its 50^th anniversary!

The New Roman Missal

2011-10-14T11:08:00.001-04:00

I just received a copy of the third edition of The Roman Missal, the book of Mass prayers we formerly called The Sacramentary.

The new translation, in my humble opinion, is going to be more difficult for priests to proclaim and pray than the former one.

When I compare the new with the old I see the difference.

The old translation of the opening prayer for the First Sunday of Advent was:

All-powerful God, increase our strength of will for doing good that Christ may find an eager welcome at his coming and call us to his side in the kingdom of heaven where he lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

The new translation of the opening prayer for the First Sunday of Advent is:

Grant your faithful, we pray, almighty God, the resolve to run forth to meet your Christwith righteous deeds at his coming, so that, gathered at his right hand, they may be worthy to possess the heavenly kingdom. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

The priest-presider must not only pray the prayer he must proclaim it, or say it aloud.

The presider will have to make a special effort to clarify that the personal pronoun "they" refers back to "your faithful" (the antecedent is at the start of the prayer) and not to "righteous deeds" which is closer to the pronoun.

I do not think the congregation will have much difficulty with the "peoples' responses" to the prayers.
Within a few weeks "And with your spirit" will come as easily to mind as "And also with you."The burden is going to be on the priests.

Those who have been praying the Mass prayers for 40 years are likely to stumble when the familiar "Blessed are you, Lord, God of all creation. Through your goodness we have this bread to offer..." becomes "Blessed are you Lord God of all creation, for through your goodness we have received the bread we offer you..."

Even more troublesome will be the change from "Take this, all of you, and drink from it: this is the cup of my blood, the blood of the new and everlasting covenant. It will be shed for you and for all so that sins may be forgiven."

The new version, "Take this, all of you, and drink from it, for this is the chalice of my blood, the blood of the new and eternal covenant, which will be poured out for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins," changes the wording but also unnecessarily raises the theological problem of what "for many" means.

The wording changes from "for all" to "for many," but we have to clarify that the meaning is the same, that "for many" means "for all."

Most of the preparatory programs and presentations have assured us that implementation of the new translation provides us with an excellent opportunity for reflecting on the Mass and renewing our commitment to this central act of worship.

The United States Catholic Bishops website explains that "the entire Church in the United States has been blessed with this opportunity to deepen its understanding of the Sacred Liturgy, and to appreciate its meaning and importance in our lives."The revised translation is touted as "New words: a deeper meaning but the same Mass."

The saving grace of implementing the new Roman Missal will surely be the revised emphasis on the liturgy and its significance for the Catholic faithful.The problem that will linger after the initial enthusiasm is the translation itself.

Errors & Holy Indifference

2011-10-05T13:23:00.002-04:00

There is a virtue in the spiritual life called "holy indifference."

It is the ability to allow things to unfold without getting flustered by disappointments or unexpected happenings.One of the areas where I need "holy indifference" is in the internet.

I have tried to change notices on this blog but the web browser refuses to let me in.I feel fortunate that I have been able to type this post.

The message I keep getting is as clear as mud to me: Error: possible problem with your *.gwt.xml module file. The compile time user.agent value (ie9) does not match the runtime user.agent value (ie8). Expect more errors.

If by some chance I do not have new posts or cannot update the mass schedule for awhile, know that I am still trying to figure out why the ie9 does not match the ie8.

In our ever-expanding universe, with its countless problems, my inability to connect and update is minor, very minor.But it does give me reason to practice "holy indifference."

It is hard for most of us to say, "Your will be done" and mean it.It is my impression that Jesus had to work himself up to it during his agony in the garden.I shouldn't be surprised if I find it difficult too.

Info For Catholic Voters

2011-10-01T10:11:00.001-04:00

An article in the National Catholic Reporter (NCR, 9/16/11) provided polling data to show that U. S. Catholics pay little attention to their Bishops' statements on how Church teaching ought to influence political issues.

The U. S. Bishops update every four years a document they call "Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship."

The 2007 version included sections on why the Church speaks on public policy and on the policy positions of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops.

The NCR article noted a new poll which indicates that only 16 per cent of U. S. Catholics are aware of the bishops' document, and just 3 percent say they have read it.

For some reason U. S. Catholics pay little attention to what their bishops are teaching regarding politics and social issues. The same poll shows that only 4 per cent of adult U. S. Catholics think the bishops' statement was or would be a major influence in how they would vote.

The wall of separation between Church and State is a major concern to many Americans. Some think that this wall is a guarantee of freedom of religion, while others think it a guarantee of freedom from.

The term "wall of separation" is found in President Thomas Jefferson's letter to the Danbury Baptist Association in Connecticut who were concerned that the new president's policies might infringe on freedom of religion. Jefferson wrote to assure them that there was a wall of separation between the two, and he would respect that wall.

In the present political climate Jefferson's analogy has been used by courts across the land to enforce complete and total separation of religious sentiment from the secular and civic world around us.

It may come as a surprise to some, however, that at the beginning, our nation and our national leaders embraced the notion that religion was an essential support for the new government. They did not propose one religious tradition over another, but they did recognize the value, indeed necessity, of having a God-fearing citizenry if the democratic/republican form of government was to endure.

In his farewell address to Congress on September 17, 1796, outgoing President George Washington was clear, "Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity, religion and morality are indispensable supports."

Washington went on to descibe religion and morality as the great pillars of human happiness, the firmest props of the duties of citizens. "The mere politician, equally with the pious man, ought to respect and to cherish them," he said, noting further that "reason and experience both forbid us to expect that national morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle."

From the beginning of the great experiment we call the United States, there was the recognition, indeed expectation, that religion would inform public opinion and form the laws of our republic. The First Amendment to the United States Constitution was a guarantee of freedom of religion not freedom from.

Religion has a role to play in the formation of the citizenry, and the U. S. Catholic Bishops have an obligation to teach the principles, precepts and policies that characterize the Catholic faith.

Further, Catholics have an obligation to study those teachings and form their consciences in the light of the demands of their faith.

What is not demanded, however, what is not good for the country or the Church, is thoughtless application of the bishops' teachings to the politics of the country.

The U. S. Bishops' statement is deliberately titled "Forming Consciences."

The demand for forming one's conscience is essential. The bishops teach, for example, that "care for the earth is a duty of our faith." This statement requires thoughtful consideration and leads to decisions about how best to implement the conclusion. Individual persons, however, may not always agree on its implementation.

The bishops provide the principle; the populace must determine its application. Some will fight against use of fossil fuels; others will conclude that there is no such thing as man-made global warming.

I don't know why few Catholics look to the bishops' statement for direction. Are Catholics fearful that they would be crossing the wall of separation? Are the bishops confusing moral principles and practical application of them? Do Catholics think the bishops' opinions irrelevant? Are Catholics simply unaware of the bishops' statement? Do Catholics think they already know what is right and wrong? Is the statement too lengthy? too academic? too predictable? too ivory-tower?

In November the U. S. Bishops will meet and find on their agenda a discussion about whether their document "Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship" needs revision in anticipation of the elections coming in 2012.

What will they decide? Since about one out of four U. S. voters is Catholic, their statement could have significant influence --if they can get Catholics to read it.

Unity Or Disunity Among Priests?

2011-09-21T18:41:00.001-04:00

I think it an odd phenomenon but a most interesting one.

It used to be that liberal ideas were promoted by the younger clergy, and the older priests held fast to the conservative.

Today it seems that just the opposite is true.

An association of US Catholic priests is being formed to offer fraternal support to brother priests and to give a united voice to priests who share common concerns.

A recently formed group of 400 priests in Austria, the Austrian Priests' Initiative, has pledged itself to reforms in priestly ministry and Catholic practice which are likely to put them at odds with their bishops and the Vatican.

The Association of US Priests (AUSCP), on the other hand, says that protest and disagreement are not on their agenda.

The chairman of AUSCP, Father David Cooper of Milwaukee, says the association will focus over the next four years on celebrating the 50th anniversary of the Second Vatican Council, and is planning a major convocation on the sacred liturgy.

There already exists the National Federation of Priests' Councils in the United States, and its president, Father Richard Vega, says he supports the objectives proposed by AUSCP and doubts any competition between the two groups.

An association of Catholic priests in Ireland has strongly criticized the New Roman Missal translation and endorses having married priests. A similar organization has been formed in Australia.

Prior to the AUSCP organization meeting in Mundelein in August, about 250 priests responded to a questionnaire about forming such an association. The most popular objective identified by the priests was implementation of the vision and teachings of Vatican II.

Other areas of interest included encouraging the laity to become fully involved in the life of the Church and promotion of the rights of all believers.

What catches my eye, especially in regard to AUSCP, is the age of the members. The median age is 71.

It is my impression that some of younger clergy are less than enthusiastic about AUSCP and about the various manifestations of priests associations in other parts of the world.

The Association of U. S. Catholic Priests is soliciting support and membership across the country, encouraging new members to propose their expectations for AUSCP and indicate how they might contribute to achieving these expectations.

Is there a divide between younger and older priests? If so, what will be the consequences for the Church and especially for parish congregations? We have reason to fear a house divided.

The New Translation Is Coming

2011-09-17T10:51:00.002-04:00

I've heard and read a lot of discussions about the translation of the new Roman missal.

The primary criticism is that the effort to be "faithful to the Latin text" has led to complex sentence structures and a stilted form of English.

Gabe Huck, the former director of Liturgical Training Publications (LTP), the publishing house owned by the Archdiocese of Chicago (Cardinal Francis George fired Huck ten years ago) recently wrote an article complaining about the translation.

Huck offered an example, a prayer we will use in Advent: Grant your faithful, we pray, almighty God, the resolve to run forth to meet your Christ with righteous deeds at his coming, so that, gathered at his right hand, they may be worthy to possess the heavenly kingdom.

I have to agree that this translation sounds like the work of a computer translator. Not being fluent in Spanish, I often resort to the computer to translate letters from my foster child in Nicaragua. I can usually get the gist of what she is saying but the English translation is awkward and unconventional.

Priests and laity alike are divided in their opinions about the implementation of the new missal and its translation this coming Advent.

Some are eager, saying they look forward to a translation that at last reflects the Latin, the language of the Roman Church. Others think the new prayers will be far more difficult to phrase, enunciate, and understand. Some priests are certain they will stumble over the wording and the congregation will be unable to hear the words as prayer --even if both presider and laity have rehearsed the texts before hand.

Many dioceses have presented a variety of educational programs to prepare clergy and laity alike. Many presenters spin the new missal as an opportunity to review what we do at Mass and renew our active participation.

When D-Day arrives on November 27 it will interesting to see how the new missal is implemented and received.

It is likely that the congregational responses will become second-nature within a few weeks. Changing from "And also with you" to "And also with your spirit" won't be a major challenge for the people in the pew.

But the presider at the chair and the altar will have a far greater challenge. He will have to review each day's Mass propers, assess how to phrase and enunciate the prayers, and try to execute the recitation in a prayerful manner despite the complicated and often poor English sentence constructions.

Huck remembered Monsignor Ronald Knox's observation in Englishing the Bible: "You can have a literal translation or you can have a literary translation; you cannot have both."

The trial for Catholics will be which kind of translation best supports and promotes a praying community.

Renewing Patriotism

2011-09-10T07:58:00.007-04:00

I just returned from the holy land --not Israel, but Gettysburg, PA.

Nearly a century and a half ago General Robert E. Lee brought his Confederate army north from Virginia into Pennsylvania with the hope of engaging the Federals in a decisive victory and bringing the war to an end.

His effort there can rightly be called "the high water mark of the Confederacy" and his loss there can rightly be called "the turning point of the war."

Last week a different Lee invaded Pennsylvania. The remnants of the tropical storm caused flooding along creeks and rivers in several east coast states. People had to evacuate, property was destroyed, a few lost their lives.

By comparison the misery caused by Lee the invader was worse than the misery caused by Lee the storm. By comparison the misery suffered by the flood victims was worse than the misery suffered by us fool-hardy, drenched-to-the-skin visitors to the battlefield --but either scenario gives a whole new meaning to "Lee's Miserables" (apology to Victor Hugo).

Even in the rain I enjoyed the opportunity (as General Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain put it) to join generations of reverent men and women who will come "to see where and by whom great things were suffered and done for them...to ponder and dream."

Each visit (I have been there maybe 20 times) renews respect for the sacrifices made by the men and women of both sides. Each visit re-inspires patriotism, a love of country based not on some naive assumption that we are perfect but upon the realism that despite our nation's faults we share a land, a constitution and a heritage unparalleled in human history.

And this blessing requires work and sacrifice and occasional battles to preserve.

The attacks on our country on 9/11/01 at least momentarily woke the sleeping giant, and most citizens rallied and responded with demonstrations of sympathy for the victims, of respect for the police, firefighters and military, of our dependence on divine providence.

On a visit to Gettysburg, General Chamberlain recalled his experience of the battle and his perception of the field. He said, "In great deeds something abides. On great fields something stays. Forms change and pass; bodies disappear; but spirits linger, to consecrate ground for the vision-place of souls."

On his visit to Gettysburg President Abraham Lincoln denied that we could dedicate, consecrate or hallow this ground. Rather, said Lincoln, "The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract."

And immediately Lincoln made an appeal to patriotic fervor, "It is for us, the living, rather to be dedicated to the unfinished work which they have, thus far, so nobly advanced."

I suppose it is in the light of the observations of Chamberlain and Lincoln that I think of the battlefield at Gettysburg as "the holy land."

But neither do I discount my personal experiences on that field. I have not seen ghosts. I have no relatives who fought there. But Chamberlain is right, something abides, spirits linger.

And if one is quiet long enough what he predicted for visitors proves true: "The shadow of a mighty presence shall wrap them in its bosom, and the power of the vision pass into their souls."

He continued, "This is the great reward of service. To live, far out and on, in the life of others; this is the mystery of Christ, --to give life's best for such high sake that it shall be found again unto life eternal."

Patriotism is listed among Christian virtues. Pro Deo et patria --for God and country. It's why we go to Church, and why I go to Gettysburg.

The Patience Of God

2011-09-03T08:33:00.003-04:00

Of all the qualities we see in God, patience is the one I find most amazing.

I have heard of artists, musicians and intellectuals who are unusually talented and creative, but woefully lacking in self-control and forbearance.

A concert pianist rages because the piano bench is too low. A diva on the stage goes into a tantrum about her co-star's poor performance. A professional lecturer fumes over the audio feedback.

Those intent upon perfection inevitably find flaws, faults, and failure in the settings and personnel with whom they work. And sometimes the demanding perfectionists lose their tempers; they rant, rail and rave at the offending party and even the innocent around them.

God, on the other hand, shows remarkable patience. The Perfect One tolerates the imperfect. The Sinless One endures sinners. The Creative One bears with the clumsy.

If anthropologists are right, that homo sapiens has been around for some 200,000 years, then those of us who believe that "thinking man" is the deliberate creation by God have much to explain.

If human beings are made in God's image, if God has a plan for humanity, if the Creator is really concerned about and involved with creation, how are we to interpret human history before Christ, or before Abraham, or before the first signs of religion, law, and morality appear?

If the universe began 13 billion years ago with a "big bang" (a clashing of cymbals) by the Great Orchestrator, we have to conclude that God was in no hurry to create human beings.

Not only are we late-comers to the universe, but Jesus comes on stage very, very long after the curtain first rises, long after human beings made their appearance.

One of the traditions recorded in Genesis wrestled with these mysteries. More than 3000 years ago some of our ancestors told the story of God's creating human beings, of placing them in an ideal setting, of man's rebellion, of the consequences of sin, and, perhaps most importantly, of the conviction that human beings would be able to over come the evil they had unleashed against themselves.

"The Lord God formed the man out of the dust...the Lord God then took the man and settled him in the garden of Eden...and God asked, 'Have you eaten from the tree from which I had forbidden you to eat?'...and God said to the serpent, 'I will put enmity between you and the woman, between your offspring and hers; and they will strike at your head while you strike at their heel.'"

The Genesis tradition provides insight. Human history is a strange mixture of divine and human action, a patchwork of rebellion and second-chance.

And through the whole patch-work story runs the thread of unbelievable patience on the part of God.

The Gospel accounts suggest that Jesus had his moments of frustration: "Will you also go away?...have I been with you so long a time and you still do not know me, Philip?...Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? Behold, the hour is at hand..."

But in the final moments Jesus could still muster divine patience, "Father, forgive them; they know not what they do."

God's patience, the divine ability to wait, is amazing.

And recognition of that divine attribute has a soothing effect on us. If God can be patient with us, perhaps we should be patient with others and ourselves as well.

Jesus' initial invitation to his disciples is "Come, follow me." That proposal implies movement. Accepting Jesus as Lord is simply the first step. We're going somewhere.

Our Christian lives are an evolution, a process of ongoing development.

God waits patiently for the seed to fall to the earth and die so that it can sprout and bring new life. And God waits patiently for us to do the same.

God is wondrously patient!

A Little Learning...

2011-08-26T09:56:00.009-04:00

"A little learning is a dangerous thing..." So said poet Alexander Pope.

This truth comes home to me whenever I try to delve into the subtleties, connotations, and even mistranslations of passages in the Bible.

My "little learning" is in the biblical languages: Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek.

To cut to the chase, I am trying to figure out what Jesus meant when he cried out from the cross, "Eli, eli, lema sabachthani" (as Matthew 27:46 records it).

The Matthean text immediately translates this Aramaic expression into Greek, which we recognize as Psalm 22:2, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"

I have often found consolation in this expression of anguish --in the Book of Psalms it is the lament of a soul who feels abandoned by God. It borders on despair. In fearful loneliness, someone's broken heart cries, "Why?"

To think that even Jesus had this struggle I can better accept my own moments of confusion and doubt. For a moment even Jesus experienced the agony of being left alone by a hiding God.

On occasion I have referred to this verse as comfort to the grieving or the overwhelmed. This is the dark night of the soul!

More recently, however, I have come to question my using Jesus as a model of near-despair.

My questioning began when I read George Lamsa's research on idioms in the Bible. Lamsa (1892-1975) was an Assyrian author (born in what is now Turkey) whose native language was Aramaic, the language we are pretty sure Jesus spoke.

Lamsa noted that in the Greek version of Matthew's Gospel (Lamsa grew up reading the Aramaic) the evangelist gave the original Aramaic and then he or a later editor translated the Aramaic expression into Greek.

The evangelist and Lamsa note that those standing beneath the cross misunderstood, thinking that Jesus was calling on the prophet Elijah.

Our Greek version of Matthew's Gospel clarified Jesus' Aramaic words by identifying them as Psalm 22:2. Lamsa, however, concluded differently.

He argued that if Jesus were quoting the psalm he would likely have said it in Hebrew. And if he were translating the Hebrew into Aramaic he would have used the word "nashatani" not "shabacktani."

Lamsa explains that "nashatani" means "forsaken me," but "shabacktani" means "kept me."

Thus, in Lamsa's understanding of the Aramaic, Jesus was saying, "My God, my God, for this I was kept," meaning, "this was my destiny --for this I was born."

The academic world with its Aramaic grammar and etymology offers little support for Lamsa's interpretation.

In Lamsa's defense, however, I would be so bold as to suggest that maybe the earliest Christians saw in Psalm 22 a prefiguring of the sufferings of Jesus: "all who see me mock me...like water my life drains away...so wasted are my hands and my feet that I can count all my bones...they divide my garments among them, for my clothing they cast lots."

Maybe these descriptions were applied to Jesus because they thought he was quoting Psalm 22 or maybe these descriptions so fit what happened to Jesus that they put Psalm 22:2 into his mouth.

Lamsa reasoned, "The disciples and women who were from Galilee never for a moment could have thought that Jesus said God had forsaken Him. How could He say that when He had told His disciples that the whole world would forsake Him, even they, but that the Father would be with Him."

All my questioning and research does nothing to the final verdict --Jesus suffered and died for our salvation!

On the other hand, I would like to know what really happened on that Friday on Golgotha, outside the walls of Jerusalem.

Perhaps the evidence has been taped and archived and part of eternity can be spent in reviewing the footage and seeing and hearing what actually happened nearly 2000 years ago.

Once again "a little learning" has forced me back to the books and left me with still more questions than answers.

Pope was right about the dangers and intoxication of "a little learning," but I'm not so sure that drinking largely really would bring sobriety.

Said the poet: "A little learning is a dangerous thing;
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring;
There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
And drinking largely sobers us again."

Recapture The Vision

2011-08-19T15:44:00.008-04:00

Thomas Meton is probably the best known monk in America, but he was not beyond criticizing monasticism.

Franciscans follow the example of St Francis, but many of them will readily admit that their father Francis would be highly critical of the way they live.

Christians claim to follow Christ, but sometimes, in some cases, even Jesus would have a hard time seeing a reflection of his Gospel in what they say and do.

Merton said in his Conjectures of A Guilty Bystander that certain conceptions of monasticism "seem to me to be simply a fancy-dress adaptation of what we are claiming we have renounced."

Who can embrace Lady Poverty as Francis did? And wash the sores of lepers? And settle for the hermit's tunic, cord and sandals? And respond to life's troubles with "Peace and good!" as Francis did?

How can we take Jesus seriously when he instructs his followers to turn the other cheek, sell what we have and give the profits to the poor, and take no money or change of clothes when we are out on a missionary journey?

Some pundits explain that the example of the earliest monks, mendicants and missionaries was simply that --an example. It was not, these critics say, something to be slavishly imitated, but rather their example was an ideal to be pursued, a guide for direction --but always, always in moderation!

Those pundits may be right. But if monasticism and the dream of Francis and the Gospel of Jesus are to be effective today (in this 21st century), it means we have to keep coming back to them, keep re-visiting the ideal, keep judging our modus operandi in the light of these models.

One of the major efforts and benefits of the gathering of bishops at the Second Vatican Council was the insistence on looking back to the origins of the Church and the teachings of Christ.

There were some "new things" to merge from that Council, but in large measure the "changes," especially in liturgy and ecclesiology, were prompted by returning to the past. The overall mentality of the Council Fathers was not liberal but conservative. It was a conservative mindset that wanted to reclaim the ancient ways; it was a liberal mindset that wanted things to stay as they had developed during the Middle Ages.

Although the Vatican's interview (some call it inquisition) of the religious Sisters over the past few years was not always well-received, one postive result came from the encouragement that the Sisters should return to the charism of the founders of their orders.

The Sisters and Daughters of Charity reflected anew on the life and example of Mother Elizabeth Ann Seton. The Poor Clares revisted the model set by St. Clare. The Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament reviewed the ministry and spirituality of Mother Katharine Drexel.

Going back to the past is at the heart of recollection, reflection and retreat.

Going back to the past does not denigrate progress or undermine adapatation to current needs and circumstances. But going back to the past reminds us about where we came from and why we undertook the journey in the first place.

Look at the way the Church (the hierarchy) operates today. Look at the in-fighting between so-called theological traditionalists and progressives, between liturgical conservatives and liberals, between laity and clergy. Look at the personal and private ways you and I live our Christian commitment.

And then ask, "Is this what Jesus had in mind?"

Most of us will assess that the world is too much with us, that ego is in control, that the Gospel has been diluted to serve our own weaknesses and sense of well-being.

Periodically we must stop, go back, and re-assess. A return to our origins helps us re-capture the vision, and only in its light can we truly move forward.

It is still another paradox of the spiritual life: to advance you must go back.

Too Busy To Pray

2011-08-13T07:17:00.004-04:00

I've gotten busy again --too busy to pray.

There are Masses in various parishes, talks to various groups, preparations for future parish missions, and of course household chores.

I can find time to "say my prayers" but setting aside time to pray has not been a priority.

There's more to praying than saying prayers. I've come to the conclusion that Catholics say too many prayers and do too little praying.

At least fifty-percent of praying ought to be silence. It's emptying the mind of words and being silent.

Prayer without words is more difficult than reading the divine office (the liturgy of the hours) or saying the rosary.

Prayer without words requires (or at least seeks) full focus on God. It includes a willingness to just be in God's presence, to enjoy God's company, to experience rather than talk about the "otherness" and the "closeness" of God.

When I'm too busy to pray I'm too busy!

It's time to prioritize, to begin spiritual exercise anew, to be rather than do.

Nearly all those who write about prayer insist on silence -quieting the mind so the heart can hear --being silent so God can get a word in edgewise. The more I talk the less I learn.

The daily prayer of the Jew (cf. Deuteronomy 6:4) begins with the word "Listen."

Moses got the people's attention with the simple command, "Be silent, O Israel, and listen!" (cf. Dt. 27:9).

In the midst of Jesus' transfiguration a voice from the cloud was heard to say, "This is my chosen Son; listen to him" (cf. Luke 9:35).

And here I am, doing it again. I sit here multiplying words, filling a blogpost because I think it is expected of me --when in fact I should be listening.

"Shh," my soul says to me. "Be quiet --at least for little while. Hush."

Don't Forget To Remember

2011-08-05T10:40:00.003-04:00

One of the antidotes to the poisons of depression, discouragement, and despair is remembering.

During the exodus and the 40 years of wandering in the wilderness Moses encouraged the people to recall all that Yahweh had done for them.

The Israelites and the foreign elements among them grew despondent. They complained about the tasteless food, about the scarcity of water, about their seemingly endless, aimless sojourn toward the promised land.

In response, according to the Book of Deuteronomy, Moses reminded the people of all the good things Yahweh had done for them: "Did anything so great ever happen before?" (4:32).

God spoke to them and they heard the divine voice! God freed them from slavery in Egypt by means of extraordinary signs and wonders! God manifest his presence in the form of fire! And further, God gave them the law so that they and their children may prosper!

Given the many years and difficult climate these refugees had to face, it is not surprising that they should on occasion lose heart and murmur against Moses' leadership.

And such a reaction (complaining, murmuring, and discouragement) is not foreign to us.

Most of us, at one time or another, become restless and even resentful when things do not go our way, when we feel God has abandoned us, when the effort seems beyond our endurance.

Such feelings and the behaviors that accompany them can poison our relationship with God, pervert our rapport with others, and pollute how we rate ourselves.

The Bible's response to this kind of discontent is to recall, reflect, remember.

We are advised to call to mind all the gifts we have enjoyed. God has given us life, has revealed his plan to us, has invited us to cooperate in the salvation process.

Countless souls on earth today have never heard of Jesus, have no notion that the Creator is a loving God, have no sense of being called to share in God's good work.

The blessings of our religion are enormous.

Further, most of us have more than our fair share of earthly goods as well. We have food, water, shelter, medical care, family, friends, etc., etc.

Upon reflection we can think of occasions when we were helpless, and God stepped in to help us. When we felt life was meaningless, and God restored the joy of our youth. When we were guilty and ashamed, and God showed us mercy, forgiveness, and compassion.

It is obvious that remembering is a good thing, that it is strongly recommended by God, when we recall what Jesus said and did on the night before he died. He gave us the memorial of his sacrifice, his body and blood to sustain us.

Mass is a time for praising God, for offering sacrifice, for sharing in the heavenly food, for hearing God's message --it is a time for remembering.

If Moses were preaching today, he would put it bluntly, "Don't forget to remember."

I remember the deeds of the Lord,
Yes, I remember your wonders of old.
And I meditate on your works,
Your exploits I ponder.

O God, your way is holy.
What great god is there like our God?
You are the God who works wonders.
Among the people you have made known your power.

With your strong arm you redeemed your people,
the sons of Jacob and Joseph.
You led your people like a flock... (Ps 77).

Mass is a time for remembering --and our personal recollection of the deeds of the Lord is powerful medicine for any tired soul!

Exegesis, Eisegesis, Sensus Plenior

2011-07-29T07:43:00.003-04:00

Scripture scholars make a careful distinction between exegesis and eisegesis.

Exegesis is the practice of drawing out the meaning of a Bible passage, unlocking what the author intended to say. Eisegesis is the practice of reading something into the passage which the author did not intend.

A person who does exegesis is an exegete. A person who does eisegesis is an eisegete or "a poor exegete."

Exegesis of the Book of Genesis 1:1 to 2:4a suggests that the author intended to say that God existed before all else, that God is creator of the universe, that the sun and other created things which some people worship as gods are in fact created by God.

Eisegesis of Genesis 1:1 to 2:4a says that God made the world in six twenty-four hour periods and that the theory of evolution is clearly wrong in the light of the Bible's creation story.

In this case the eisegete's misinterpretation of the author's meaning stems largely from his imposing science upon a faith book.

The author of the biblical story of creation was not a scientist nor did he intend to write a science book. The exegete respects the book for what it is: an expression of a faith conviction that God made the world and everything in it.

In preparing a homily for Mass one day I asked myself if I were guilty of eisegesis when I interpreted the Gospel's parables about the treasure in the field and the pearl of great price as examples of God's great love for us.

Matthew 13: 44-46 tells the stories: The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure buried in a field, which a person finds and hides again, and out of joy goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant searching for fine pearls. When he finds a pearl of great price, he goes and sells all that he has and buys it.

For decades I have interpreted those parables as encouragement for us to be willing to give up all and everything for the sake of the kingdom. God's will is so important that we should be willing to pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship (apologies to President John Kennedy) to be faithful to our God.

But it occurred to me on this occasion that perhaps the parables were really about the price, burden and hardship that God has been willing to muster up to save us. God has certainly gone to extremes to assure us that we are precious in his sight. If Jesus is a good shepherd, can he not also be a merchant in search of a fine pearl?

I was a bit uncomfortable with my interpretation. Was I practicing eisegesis?

I thought so until I read the first reading for that day's Mass, the story of Moses' hiding his face behind a veil because it shone so brightly after his face-to-face encounter with God.

I was sure that the author of Exodus 34:29-35 intended to say that God's glory was radiating from Moses' face, and that Moses had to cover his face with a veil because the radiance of his skin frightened the people.

The author clearly intended to express the transcendence of God and to emphasize how honored Moses was to see God's face.

That, I thought, was the proper exegesis --until I read St. Paul's interpretation in 2 Corinthians 3:12-18. There he says that Moses' veil was a symbol of the Jews' failure to recognize Jesus! "To this day, in fact, whenever Moses is read, a veil lies over their hearts."

That interpretation seems to me more like eisegesis than exegesis. I sincerely doubt that the author of Exodus intended the conclusion Paul drew.

Aha! May I then conclude that Paul is guilty of poor exegesis --that he is an eisegete?

No, I am not permitted that criticism, for Scripture scholars come to his rescue, explaining that some passages have a meaning that the original author did not recognize. As the experts put it, there can be an interpretation fuller than the literal. They call this kind of interpretation "sensus plenior" --the fuller sense.

And there you have it.

If I see more in a passage than the author intended, it is eisegesis. If Paul does it, it's sensus plenior.

Overcoming Self-rejection

2011-07-21T20:44:00.001-04:00

Spiritual writer Henri Nouwen suggested that the biggest obstacle in our spiritual lives was self-rejection.

"Success, popularity and power," he wrote, "can indeed present a great temptation, but their seductive quality often comes from the way they are part of a much larger temptation to self-rejection."

Most of us have had our share of negative criticism, rejection, and perhaps even abandonment. These experiences are like voices in our minds, echoing the message that we are pitiful, worthless or unlovable.

Franciscan friar Emmet Murphy remembers a time when his life was a mess, when he felt abandoned by God, that no one loved him. In the midst of that depression he received a letter from his Aunt Anna --three pages of family news about who was in college, who was expecting, who was fighting with whom.

At the end of the letter his aunt wrote a PS. It said, "Remember --you are loved!"

Those words, he recalled, jumped off the page. As he studied those words he heard God say to him, "Wake up, Emmet! Believe! Accept the gift! Embrace yourself."

It's hard to say what prompted Aunt Anna's postscript, but it had a profound effect. In the light of that PS, Emmet escaped his depression and set himself on the road to recovery.

Jesus' parable of the lost sheep can have the same effect on anyone who chooses to hear it and accept its message.

"What do you think? If a man has a hundred sheep and one of these goes astray, will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hill and go in search of the stray? And if he finds it, amen, I say to you, he rejoices more over it than over the ninety-nine that did not stray!" (Cf. Matthew 18:12-13).

Jesus did not teach catechism questions and answers. His favorite mode of teaching was the parable. He told stories which invited his audience to enter into the scenario and discover a truth for themselves.

Jesus preferred to have his hearers reach inside themselves and come to a "aha moment" of discovery. If "Amen" had not become our customary way of expressing faith, I think we could just as easily have chosen "Eureka!"

In his book Abba's Child, Brennan Manning offers several quotations which are pertinent and encouraging for anyone who doubts his own self-worth, especially vis-a-vis God.

He recalls Thomas Merton's advice, "Surrender your poverty and acknowledge your nothingness to the Lord. Whether you understand it or not, God loves you..."
Fourteenth century mystic Julian of Norwich said, "Our courteous Lord does not want his servants to despair because they fall often and grievously; for our falling does not hinder him in loving us."

And returning to Nouwen, we read, "Self-rejection is the greatest enemy of the spiritual life because it contradicts the sacred voice that calls us 'Beloved.' Being the Beloved constitutes the core truth of our existence."

God's love for us is real and enduring. He is the hound from heaven who dogs our steps. He is the shepherd who leaves the ninety-nine to go in search of the lost one.

Emmet found the consolation and the courage to accept himself when he read and reflected on his aunt's postscript.

It is most helpful for us when we read and reflect on Jesus' PS: "It is the will of your heavenly Father that not one of these little ones be lost" (cf. Mt. 18:14).

Read his message and respond "Amen" (or "Eureka!")

The Church In Stress

2011-07-14T19:33:00.003-04:00

There were several significant meetings in June relating to the mission and ministry of the Catholic Church.

In June the United States Catholic Bishops met in Seattle to discuss a number of issues, including physician-assisted suicide, sex abuse by clergy, defense of marriage, and the establishment of an office to welcome Anglicans to the Roman Catholic Church.

Also in June a new organization called American Catholic Council gathered in Detroit to discuss reform of the Church. Some 2000 Catholics (mostly over 65 years of age, well-educated, and white) endorsed a Bill of Rights and Responsibilities affirming primacy of conscience and the right for every Catholic to share in responsibility for the mission and ministry of the Church.

The Catholic Theological Society of America met in San Jose, California, to consider the conclusion of the US Bishops' Committee on Doctrine that Sister Elizabeth Johnson's book Quest for the Living God failed to provide authentic Catholic teaching. A committee of theologians had protested that the bishops had misrepresented Johnson's work. Bishop Patrick McGrath of San Jose delivered the opening address to the 325 theologians. His remarks were well-received, and bridged the gap between the two sides.

In New Rochelle, NY, over 250 religion professors gathered to listen to and discuss presentations at the College Theology Society's annual meeting. What made the meeting especially noteworthy was that all present were lay men and women. President Bradford Hinze made the point that 30 years ago almost all theologians were priests, but the age for lay involvement is clearly evident in their membership. Discussions covered such topics as violence in society, the violence of abortion, and violence against gays.

An association of Austrian clergy (priests and deacons) met in Vienna, Austria, and signed a declaration pledging to stop having multiple Masses on Sunday, resisting the push to force priests to pastor multiple parishes, and promoting ordination of married men and women to the priesthood.

Although some Catholics are appalled by such gatherings I think such conversations may well be a sign of health and wholeness in the Church.

If the theology is correct that the Church was born from the wounded side of Christ, it is perhaps understandable that some tension and conflict should be present throughout its history.

All the faithful have a responsibility for the mission and ministry of the Church. Vatican II, Canon Law (##215-216), and the Church Fathers confirm that.

I wish the Church were at peace, that we didn't choose up sides (liberals versus conservatives), that clergy welcoming the involvement of the laity was a common characteristic of parish life.

It isn't so, and probably won't be in my lifetime.

But there is one abiding factor in the life, history and future of the Church that must not, indeed cannot be overlooked. It is the power and presence of the Spirit.

When you look at the history of the Church and see all that its members have done to weaken it, you have to believe that the Church remains in God's safe-keeping.

If the Borgia popes didn't destroy the Church, how can we fear its demise?

Our task is to work for peace, compassion, and formation in the values of the Gospel. The Church ought to reflect that mission.

But when it doesn't, or when it seems to boil with controversial hopes and dreams, you have to believe that God is still in charge.

This is another example of the mystery of faith --out of death comes life!

Poverty - Literal or Literary?

2011-07-07T16:26:00.005-04:00

I still stumble when I come to that passage in the New Testament where Jesus sends the apostles out to proclaim the kingdom and heal the sick.

He says to them, "Take nothing for the journey, neither walking stick, nor sack, nor food, nor money, and let no one take a second tunic" (Luke 9:3).

Later, in Luke 10, he sends out 72 disciples as advance men, and gives them similar instructions.

I've been out on several journeys as a kind of missionary, preaching parish missions or retreats in California, Florida, New York, Louisiana --and I have never set out without flight reservations, a suitcase, money, credit cards, and more than one change of clothes.

Right from the start, I'm doing it wrong. My report card must have a check-mark next to "Does not follow directions."

Most Bible commentators explain (soften?) Jesus' directions as an indication of "the absolute detachment required of the disciple."

Once again I'm caught up in the tension between literal and literary. Is it necessary to take Jesus' words literally, or should I see them as an exaggeration for the sake of a lesson?

Obviously the pope doesn't take them literally when he goes on a trip. I doubt the Dalai Lama even in his simplicity travels without some provisions. And though Jesus had "nowhere to lay his head," his band of followers had a member who carried "the common purse."

What then am I to think of this instruction?

At this stage of my life I conclude that I must be willing to rely on God (not just for the material needs I have as a parish mission speaker, but also for the content of what I am to say when I preach.)

I do not mean that I do not have to prepare homilies or sermons or ferverinos. I cannot for all my reliance on God be passive or robotic. The human contribution is a necessary element in the mission process.

But I do mean that often God has me say things I never intended to say. God gives preachers a sense of direction and frequently points out the content. I have to allow God to have the final word.

There may be others who took Jesus' words literally, but I think Francis of Assisi must lead the pack.

That man, Il Poverello, remains an intriguing enigma centuries after his life and death.

In his loneliness he made friends with Lady Poverty, and he was willing to give up everything for her sake.

Forty years ago Franciscan priest Murray Bodo wrote a biography of St. Francis, and during the time of its writing discovered insights and answers to his depression and loss of enthusiasm for the spiritual life.

This year St. Anthony Messenger Press has re-issued Francis: The Journey and the Dream in a 40th anniversary edition.

It's not a book to be read cover to cover in one sitting (though one could do so). It is a story to be thought through and absorbed in a slow and patient process.

When I put Jesus' words ("take nothing for the journey") in the context of Francis' life, I conclude that it is not a literal interpretation that Jesus wants (though Francis lived it that way). It is rather a literary device to underscore that poverty is necessary for anyone who would be Jesus' follower.

I am not rich, but I am richly blessed. I have far more "things" than I need, and for them I am grateful. The lesson for me and for anyone who responds to Jesus' call is the caution that we let nothing stand in the way of contributing to the building of the Kingdom.

The best-known message Francis heard from Jesus was "Go now and repair my church which, as you see, is falling down."

I'm willing to bet that message is as valid today as it was centuries ago. Jesus is now asking us to repair his Church, and one of the first steps in its rehabilitation will have something to do with "sell what you have and give it to the poor" and "then come follow me."

Reform, renewal, restoration of the Church will require that Lady Poverty be welcomed into the Vatican, into dioceses and parishes, into our individual lives.

We do not have to mirror Francis; he was the example. Rather it will be well if we take to heart his and Jesus' message: "Take nothing for the journey..." and be willing to lay aside whatever gets in the way of building that Kingdom.

Re-gifting

2011-06-30T15:18:00.005-04:00

Re-gifting, that is, giving to someone else a gift one has been given, is considered by many to be "politically incorrect."

It is said to be an insult to both the original giver and to the second-hand recipient.

It is said to be a breach of etiquette, even if one thinks of it as a form of re-cycling.

What brought this to mind was that line in Matthew's Gospel, "Without cost you have been given, without cost you are to give" (10:8). We used to translate it, "Freely you have received, freely give."

And some have interpreted it, "What you received as a gift, give as a gift."

Jesus, then, thinks it's perfectly OK to re-gift. In fact, he recommends it.

A popular saying suggests that "grief shared is divided in half; happiness shared is doubled."

Does one lose any of God's blessings by sharing them?

Jesus described such a gesture as "laying up treasure in heaven." The economy of the Kingdom differs from the economy of the world.

When Jesus took pity on the crowds, he healed them, protected them, fed them. And he more than implied that what he did we are to do as well. He told the apostles,"You feed them!"

He wants people to serve other people by giving to others what they themselves have received.

I remember stopping at a yard sale, and as I browsed the family's junque I heard one woman say to her sister who was holding the sale, "Hey, Cynthia! This is the purse I gave you!"

It wasn't exactly re-gifting, but it came close.

Re-gifting in terms of the world's goods requires delicacy, diplomacy, and discretion (some say, deception) lest we offend the original giver or the new recipient.

Re-gifting in terms of the gifts of the Kingdom requires generosity, gentleness and grace (some say, goodness)in order to benefit both the giver and the recipient. In this case, we need not fear offending the original Giver.

God is delighted when we re-gift the gifts he has given, and thereby make the Kingdom grow.

Only The Open Hand

2011-06-24T08:51:00.003-04:00

Christian writers return again and again to Jesus' sermon on the mount to establish a foundation and direction for our spiritual lives.

Matthew's Gospel is formulated around five major sermons. Scripture scholars generally agree that these discourses are made up of a number of Jesus' teachings from various times and settings in his public life.

The first discourse begins in chapter five, with the Beatitudes.

These verses focus on basic attitudes that reflect the values of God's kingdom. Jesus presents these attitudes and values in paradoxical sayings. Listeners are challenged by the apparent contradictions: how can anyone be considered "blessed" if he is poor or mourning or meek?

Jesus' usual pedagogy is not to impose rules, but to invite thinking. He shies away from imposing values or constraining obedience. Instead he invites people to reflect on what he says and make a personal decision. He urges his listeners to "repent," that is, to think things through and regret their bad choices.

True conversion cannot be coerced. Effective and lasting change of heart comes voluntarily, from within.

Take, for example, the first beatitude: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God."

On several occasions Jesus warns his followers about riches and possessions: "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth" (Mt. 6:19), "You cannot serve God and mammon" (Mt. 6:24), or "Go, sell what you have and give to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven" (Mt 19:21).

On first hearing it sounds absurd to congratulate those who are "poor in spirit" (I suspect the "in spirit" is a recognition that even a financially poor person can be greedy and focused on wealth.) But on second thought congratulations are due to those who can let go of the riches of the world in order to be open to the treasures in heaven "where neither moth nor decay destroys, not thieves break in and steal" (Mt. 6:20).

Jesus' teaching in general and specifically his first beatitude invite us to confront the seeming contradiction and discover the truth.

The poor in spirit are those who are open to letting go of any possession, whether material or spiritual, so that they can be enriched by the things of heaven.

This poverty of spirit includes the willingness to let go prejudices, pre-conceptions, practices, plans, prescriptions, and possibilities --all possessions-- in order to free onself to be blessed with the riches God has to offer.

The young Jewish philosopher and mystic Simone Weil noted decades ago that the only obstacle standing in the way of our receiving God's gifts is our refusal to accept them.

She recognized that a hand grasping the material goods of this world is incapable of receiving the spiritual goods of the world to come.

To acquire heaven we must be willing to let go of earth.

Congratulations then are due to those who have the wisdom and courage to yield the worldly for the sake of the heavenly.

The rich young man could not bring himself to give away his possessions in order to become Jesus' follower. He went away sad.

Jesus knew it was a most difficult choice. He said it was harder to thread a rope through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.

Even his closest associates asked, "What's in it for us?" And Jesus promised, "And everyone who has given up houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or lands for the sake of my name will receive a hundred times more, and will inherit eternal life" (Mt. 19:29).

Spiritual writers return again and again to Jesus' sermon on the mount, and especially to the Beatitudes. Here we find the basic attitudes expected of those who would really be Christian.

And the first of those attitudes is described as poverty-in-spirit, the willingness to let go of anything that is an obstacle to following Christ.

Only the open hand can accept the gifts God has to offer.

Taking The Gospel Seriously

2011-06-16T12:10:00.005-04:00

What if we took the Gospel seriously?

It is the life-long struggle of every Christian to translate Jesus' message from words into action. Most of us fail.

Jesus made it clear that following him was like picking up a cross.

He said that we must change. And as most of us readily admit, change is hard.

In 13th century Europe a man named Francis of Assisi changed, and in an outstanding way translated the Gospel into action. He embraced voluntary poverty, and became known as Il Poverello. His story continues to challenge and inspire to this very day.

In 20th century America a French immigrant named Peter Maurin underwent a conversion experience and translated the Gospel into action. He embraced voluntary poverty, and became with Dorothy Day the co-founder of the Catholic Worker movement. His story continues to challenge and inspire to this very day.

Maurin spend the last years of his life working with and for the poor. He asked clergy and laity to set up rooms for hospitality, a "Christ room" which would be available to the homeless, hungry, and broken members of society.

He reminded Catholics of the instruction given by the Church's Council of Carthage in 436, that bishops should have hospices near their churches to care for the needy. He spoke often of St. Basil, the fourth century bishop, who built a complex in Caesarea to meet the needs of the sick who could not afford medical treatment.

In the October 1939 issue of The Catholic Worker Maurin wrote a brief essay on the subject:

"People who are in need and not afraid to beg give to people not in need the occasion to do good for goodness' sake. Modern society calls the beggar bum and panhandler and gives him the bum's rush. But the Greeks used to say that people in need are ambassadors of the gods...

"Mohammedan teachers tell us that God commands hospitality. And hospitality is still practiced in Mohammedan countries. But the duty of hospitality is neither taught nor practiced in Christian countries."

Maurin recalled that in the early days of the Church bystanders noticed how Christians treated one another and said, "See how they love one another."

He lamented, however, that in modern times, "the poor are no longer fed, clothed and sheltered at a personal sacrifice but at the expense of the taxpayers. And because the poor are no longer fed, clothed and sheltered at a personal sacrifice, the pagans say about the Christians, 'See how they pass the buck.'"

Maurin irritated many when he noted that parishes have houses for priests, buildings for educational purposes, gyms for recreational purposes, but they do not have parish houses for hospitality.

"The poor," Maurin maintained, "are the first children of the Church so the poor should come first. People with homes should have a room of hospitality so as to give shelter to the needy members of the parish. The remaining needy members of the parish should be given shelter in a Parish Home."

Moved by Maurin's message and lifestyle Dorothy Day would later write, "Every house should have a Christ Room. It's no use turning people away to an agency...It is you yourself who must perform the works of mercy...we must act personally, at a personal sacrifice....to combat the growing tendency to let the State take the job which Our Lord Himself gave us to do."

A hundred and one excuses come to our minds, reasonably arguing why we can't do that. And perhaps we're not all called to be a Francis of Assisi, a Peter Maurin, a Dorothy Day.

But at the very least their example and the instruction of Jesus' Gospel are meant to make us sensitive to the poor around us.

I have often rationalized my not responding to the needy or giving a dollar to the poor: "They wouldn't be in this situation if they just got a job" or "He'll just use the money to buy a beer." I conveniently forget that many are mentally ill, unable to work, or that I'll spend more than a dollar to buy a beer for myself.

And yet, there's the Gospel teaching: "Give to the one who asks of you, and do not turn your back on the borrower" (Mt 5:42) and "I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink..." (cf. Mt 25:42).

What if we took the Gospel seriously? What if each diocese set up a house of hospitality? What if the bishop instructed each parish to establish a home for the homeless? What if each Catholic household opened a "Christ room" for one indigent neighbor?

What do you think would happen? What if we took the Gospel seriously?

(Donations may be sent to the St Francis - St Joseph Catholic Worker House, PO Box 14274, Cincinnati OH 45250-0274.)

The "I"s Or The "We"s?

2011-06-09T12:33:00.006-04:00

Beginning Sunday, November 27, 2011, we will no longer say "We believe in one God..." in the Profession of Faith.

The new translation will be "I believe in one God..."

Why the change from We to I?

The answer is: the new translation more literally reflects the Latin text, which is credo (the singular "I believe") not credimus (the plural "we believe").

The Latin text of the Nicene-Constantinople creed as found in the liturgy is the singular "I" not "we."

Further justification in favor of "I" rather than "we" focuses on the personal profession of each member of the assembly. On Sunday, November 27, the language of the assembly will affirm that each individual person is directly for himself or herself acknowledging his or her avowal of the theology of the creed.

Each member of the congregation will publicly acknowledge (as he or she sees it, as he or she individually believes it) the dogmas of the Roman Catholic understanding of the faith as spelled out by the Council of Nicea in 325 and revised and supplemented by the Council of Constantinople in 381.

Both Councils were gatherings of Church leaders who were directly charged with the responsibility of determining and promulgating sound doctrine. Among the controverted issues they addressed were the divinity of Jesus and the relationship of the Spirit to Father and Son.

Later Councils handed on the doctrinal decisions and dogmatic tradition of these two Councils.

So, on the one hand, the new language of "I" rather than "we" more literally translates the Latin text and makes more personal and individual the acceptance of the teachings of the creed.

On the other hand, however, the profession of faith as formulated by Nicea and Constantinople and handed on by later Councils uses the expression credimus (the plural "we believe"), or in the Greek language (the language of the two Councils) pisteuomen (the plural "we believe.")

So the question is, why did the Latin liturgical text become the singular "I believe" when the documentation of the Councils has the plural "we believe"? (A copy of the Nicean creed as written by Eutyches in 449 has the singular, but scholars are divided on its reliability.)

Historically, the plural "we" finds support in the traditional wording of the creed, and theologically, the "we" connotes that the doctrines are not an individual's statement of belief but rather the official and formal declaration of the catholic (whole) Church.

"We believe" affirms the communal expression of faith, placing each one who professes belief by means of this creed into the context of the Body of Christ. The plural further echoes the more traditional profession made by believers for centuries, and reflects the full communion of saints.

Both the singular and the plural have their proponents and both support their theologies with significant argumentation.

But once again we are caught up as Church in a distraction. We argue and theologize about such minutia, and thereby avoid more significant matters. No wonder we are often accused of re-arranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.

In the final analysis I doubt it really matters whether one says "I" or "we."

And I suspect when November 27 rolls 'round, there'll be a mixture of the singular "I" and plural "we" as the People of God (or more likley the priest-presider) expresses faith in the words of the creed.

It will be interesting to see who gets more upset: the "I"s or the "we"s!

Jesus, It's Hard To Love You

2011-06-02T12:25:00.002-04:00

"Jesus, do you know how hard it is to love you?"
Those words, Lord, are Dorothy Day's,
but that sentiment is mine too!
"How hard it is to love you."

It was a rough day at the Catholic Worker House.
Dorothy had dealt with a litany of problems --
breaking up fights among her "guests,"
preparing enough food to feed them,
trying to rid the house of lice,
welcoming another alcoholic who returned her kindness
by throwing up on her shoes.

It was a rough day at the Catholic Worker House.
And when evening came, when finally she found some quiet time
to pray, to bring her troubles before you,
her usual calm and patience gave way,
and from her troubled heart and anxious soul, Lord,
came those most honest words,
"Jesus, do you know how hard it is to love you?"

Dorothy knew:
you measure our love for you by our love for others:
"Truly I tell you,
just as you did it to the least of these
who are members of my family,
you did to me."

The Beloved Disciple put it boldly:
"Those who say, 'I love God,"
and hate their brothers and sisters, are liars;
for those who do not love a brother or sister
whom they have seen,
cannot love God
whom they have not seen."

I come to the conclusion, Lord,
that love for my neighbor
is the horizontal bar in the cross.

You just won't allow a "me and Jesus relationship."
It would be so much easier,
so much neater, so much more focused --
a vertical relationship,
a stairway to heaven,
peaceful, holier, so very consoling!
But "No!" --you won't allow it.
You insist on bringing other people into the equation.

I can understand why the philosopher Jean Paul Sartre said,
"Hell is other people."
I know what Lucy Van Pelt meant:
"I love humanity; it's people I can't stand."
I feel the same as Dorothy Day:
"Jesus, do you know how hard it is to love you?"

The two great commandments:
"Love God and love your neighbor"
allow no separation.
You can't do the first without the second.

When I have to deal with somebody I don't like,
when a stranger causes me inconvenience,
when someone dear to me gets on my nerves,
I have to remember:
God loves that person,
and so must I.

If Dorothy found it hard to love you, Lord,
at least she never stopped trying.
She never stopped looking for you in the face of others.
She never gave up because your image stunk
or was drunk or mentally ill.
She never quit trying to love you
no matter how hard it was.

What welcome she must have had in heaven,
when she was met by all those marginal,
rejected, and forgotten reflections of yourself.

All the time she had been entertaining angels,
and never knew.

Jesus, how hard it is to love you!

An Apple Prayer

2011-05-26T20:52:00.005-04:00

Jesus, I know what people mean by that odd expression:
"being the apple of someone's eye."
It means a person is loved and cherished by the beholder.
But why the apple of one's eye?

Stevie Wonder used those words in his song:

"You are the sunshine of my life
That's why I'll always be around,
You are the apple of my eye,
Forever you'll stay in my heart."

But why the apple of one's eye?

I was curious, Jesus, and I had to find out.
So I went online, and there I found it.
"Apple of my eye" comes from the Bible!
In the Book of Deuteronomy, chapter 32, verse 10.

Yahweh, your Father, was offering his people encouragement.
In the midst of their present problems, God reminded them
that he saved them from the desert,
and he said of Israel,
"I sustained him in a desert land,
in a howling wilderness waste;
I shielded him, cared for him,
guarded him as the apple of my eye."

I found where it came from, but I still didn't understand
why the apple of one's eye?

I had to dig deeper, Lord, and as usual,
I found a clue more mysterious than before.
I found that the Hebrew word in Deuteronomy
translated as "apple" originally meant "little man."
Ishown in Hebrew means "little man."

Again I had to ask,
"Why the apple (or little man) of one's eye?"
I had to dig deeper, Lord!

And, as usual, it's not clear why or how the Hebrews went
from "little man" to "apple,"
but I think the transition was something like this:

The "little man" was one's own reflection in the pupil of the eye of the beholder.
When I look into another's eyes I see myself!
I see a little person staring back.

But again, Lord, I had to ask why apple?
And as best I can make out,
when the passage in Deuteronomy was translated into Latin,
St Jerome rendered the Hebrew ishown with the Latin pupillam,
which is "pupil" in English.

And because people thought the pupil of the eye resembled an apple...
--well, as they say, the rest is history.

Somewhere, Lord, in all this searching there must be a lesson for me.

If I am the little man in your eye,
may I draw the conclusion that I am close to you, precious in your sight?

I join my prayer with that of David,
I pray,
"Guard me as the apple of the eye,
hide me in the shadow of your wings."

I am not worthy of such care and protection and love,
but I am grateful for your providence.
I still don't know why I would be "the apple of your eye,"
but I am glad that I can be seen there.

Taking The Gospel Seriously

2011-05-19T11:32:00.004-04:00

The Gospel scares me.

I like the part about God's love, mercy and forgiveness. I like the assurance, "I will be with you always." I look forward to the banquet in the heavenly kingdom. These benefits make it "Good News" indeed.

What bothers me is the cost. This thing about taking up your cross, this expectation of poverty (especially this being "poor in spirit"), this requirement of loving one's enemies, this directive, "Take nothing for your journey" --all these seem anything but good news.

For 2000 years Christians have stumbled over and struggled with Jesus' radical teaching about "turning the other cheek," about "selling what you have and giving it to the poor," about "being the servant of all." Can he really mean it? Wasn't he exaggerating to make a point? Don't we have to be reasonable, measured, and cautious about how we interpret and respond to his message?

Some have said that St. Francis of Assisi is the only person in the past twenty centuries who was fully and genuinely Christian. He heard the Gospel and took it literally. He put his trust in God's care, he lived a life of poverty, he shied away from power and prestige.

And as a result of his efforts to live the Gospel as well as believe it, we have publicly hailed him as a great saint and privately whispered, "He was nuts."

Theologians and spiritual writers have put forth noble and even persuasive efforts to explain away the starkly demanding nature of Jesus' directives. But every time we hear the Gospel or meet someone living it more faithfully than we do, we are challenged to ask ourselves, "Am I really following Christ?"

I've tried to make peace with Jesus' imperatives by persuading myself that living the radical Gospel is the ideal and I shall always fall short. I can justify having a closet full of clothes, a nice car to drive, more than adequate shelter, and plenty of food by assessing these goods as necessary for my carrying out my ministry as a priest.

Of course I need a computer --it helps me spread the message and stay informed and in touch. Of course I need library shelves full of books --I can be accurate in my exegesis and creative in my preaching. Of course I need my CDs and DVDs and trips to Gettysburg --I must have distractions that will let me unwind and relax.

The world in which I live does not begrudge me these things, but I wonder how these blessings would strike my "foster child" in Nicaragua or the homeless in Cincinnati's Over-the-Rhine. Most people in Haiti would think they had died and gone to heaven if they had half of what I have.

And sometimes I wonder how these possessions strike Jesus.

I know what he said: "Blessed are the poor in spirit...Take nothing for the journey but a walking stick --no food, no sack, no money in your belts...Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself...Give to the one who asks..."

On occasion I acknowledge that some natural disaster or fire could take away all that I have. Then where would I be? On occasion I admit that someday I shall die. What will my survivors do with my precious junk? On occasion I hear the echo of Jesus' parable, "And where will all this piled up wealth of yours go?"

I have not yet reached the point where I can honestly say, "I don't care about my possessions" or "The Lord gives and the Lord takes away --blessed be the name of the Lord."

I console myself with the thought that I need these things right now, and when death approaches I can pray, "Here, Lord, all that I have I give to you!" And Jesus will smile at the contrast between what I offer him and what he has in store for me.

In the meantime, however, the Gospel still scares me.

To Be A Saint

2011-05-12T11:35:00.001-04:00

What does it take to be a saint?

The Catechism of the Catholic Church says that the Church's "canonizing" some of the faithful is its way of saying that these people have practiced heroic virtue and lived in fidelity to God's grace (cf. #828).

The process does not imply that these canonized saints were perfect.

Jesuit priest and writer James Martin proposes in his book Becoming Who You Are that to be a saint one must be himself or herself. He borrows that insight from Thomas Merton's description of sanctity in his New Seeds of Contemplation.

As comforting as that insight is, the problem connected with it is the struggle to be authentic, to be really and truly who we are.

The Catechism says that in canonizing saints the Church is proposing them as models as well as intercessors (cf. #828).

It is the idea of saints as models that becomes treacherous, for it sounds as if we are supposed to become St Francis of Assisi or St Therese the Little Flower.

The modeling worth imitation is not to wear brown robes or live as an intinerant preacher; it is not that we enter a monastery and ape Therse's patience with nuns who were irritating.

The modeling that is to inspire us comes from our awareness that both of them became saints by being who they were --unique personalities set in the culture and circumstances of their times.

If we try to be St. Francis or St. Therese we fail to be ourselves, we fail to be authentic --we are taking on a false persona.

Father Martin selects Thomas Merton and Henri Nouwen as two examples of uncanonized saints, and notes that both were flawed and sometimes sinful, revealing in their writings the difficulties they faced in trying to be patient, generous, kind, compassionate, open to others.

The test of true sanctity is whether we are willing to be who we are, and whether we seek to grow and mature into the full person we have the potential for being.

Martin recalls an episode in the life of Mother Teresa when she told an admirer, "Find your own Calcutta." She meant, you don't have to go to India to become a saint; find the place where you belong --the "bloom where you are planted" advice.

I doubt I'll live long enough to see Dorothy Day canonized. We know how dedicated she was to the poor, how faithful to the Eucharist, how self-sacrificing --all traits that fit in the criteria for canonization ("heroic virtue..fidelity to God's grace").

But we also know how flawed she was --her having an abortion, her having a child out of wedlock, her sometimes cantankerous moods and harsh words.

There has been a tendency to sanitize the lives of the saints, to paint a one-sided picture of their personalities and nature. Since we know much about Dorothy Day's life, will the Church be able to accept this flawed person and recognize her virtue and fidelity?

One of Dorothy's friends remembers discussing with her the report that it cost about $7 million for the canonization of Elizabeth Seton. Teasing Dorothy about her canonization some day, Mary Lathrop asked, "How much should we put in the kitty for yours?" Dorothy smiled, and said, "Oh, about fifteen thousand" (cf Dorothy Day: Portraits By Those Who Knew Her by Rosalie Riegel, p. 195.)

On another occasion someone suggested to Dororthy that she was indeed a saint, and Miss Day responded, "Don't call me a saint; I don't want to be dismissed that easily."

Dorothy wasn't opposed to saints or canonization, but she knew the tendency to sanitize their lives and perhaps thereby defuse the power that a social activist needed to accomplish good things for the poor.

The first step toward canonizing Dorothy Day was taken in March of 2000; the Vatican officially declared her "a servant of God."

I won't hold my reath until the process moves to the next step, declaring her venerable. But in the meantime I will enjoy the consolation that one of her friends suggested, "Knowing Dorothy's dark side, I can live with my own."

In the final analysis canonization is a nice honor but it doesn't make one a saint. Sanctity is what Thomas Merton noted, "For me to be a saint means to be myself," authentically.

My Commonplace Book

2011-05-05T21:28:00.004-04:00

I hadn't looked at it for a long time --my commonplace book. It's a note book in which to record quotes and comments I find noteworthy. I started this one back in 1975.

It reminds me of what I was reading in those days, and what struck me as insightful.

If you have the stomach for it, I'll select some:

"The worst sin toward our fellow creatures is not to hate them but to be indifferent to them; that's the essence of inhumanity." (George Bernard Shaw)

"Many a man wishes he were strong enough to tear a telephone book in half, especially if he has a teenaged daughter." (Guy Lombardo)

"In your marriage it only makes sense for both of you to paddle in the same direction. Otherwise you'll only go in circles." (Marabel Morgan, The Total Woman)

"I was in love with a beautiful blonde once --she drove me to drink-- 'tis the one thing I'm indebted to her for." (W. C. Fields)

"Always do right. This will gratify some people and astonish the rest." (Mark Twain)

"Sometimes the only thing it takes to get an elephant out of your way is to drop a peanut." (Unknown)

"America is the only nation in the world that is founded on a creed. That creed is set forth with dogmatic and even theological lucidity in the Declaration of Independence, perhaps the only piece of practical politics that is also theoretical politics and also great literature." (G. K. Chesterton)

"She's been knitting with only one needle for years." (Unknown)

"Omnia videre, multa dissimulare, et pauca corrigere." (St Bernard) I think Pope John used to say that too: "See everything, turn a blind eye to much, correct a little."

I still keep a commonplace book, especially to help my poor memory when I want to add some flavor to a homily or what I'm writing.

When some unfortunate soul comes to clear out my belongings because I've gone either to nursing home or cemetery, he'll come upon this commonplace book and wonder, "What's this?"

He probably won't guess that it's a chronicle of the insights I picked up along life's journey, but if he does figure it out I hope he'll notice where the wisdom came from --from many people of various backgrounds, but all of whom gave a second thought to the meaning and humor of life.

Reading Between The Lines

2011-04-28T05:34:00.003-04:00

I have often prayed, "God, don't make me read between the lines."

I prefer to know what God wants in some situations rather than have to try to figure it out. God, however, laughs. It seems the Divine One prefers faith to knowledge, and continues to drop hints rather than spell it out.

One of the ways I try to figure out God's suggestions is to look for a thread. If the same idea comes up in differing contexts and from a variety of sources I become suspicious, "Maybe God's trying to tell me something."

That's the way I came to admire Dorothy Day.

Over several months, in books I was reading, the name Dorothy Day kept coming up. I thought I detected a thread connecting me to her story so I bought her autobiography The Long Loneliness.

Her story led me to the film Entertaining Angels (Moira Kelly as Dorothy, with Martin Sheen and Brian Keith). Then came the publication of her diaries, The Duty of Delight.

It was this last book which especially caught my attention. I had to smile when I read the notations for May 5 and 6, 1944. Dorothy was visiting The Grail (a women's spirituality center) in Foster's, Ohio. She wrote about having to walk to Mass in the nearby church, St. John's.

"We crossed the high bridge," she said, " walked a half mile down the highway, turned down a side road and came back by another bridge and down the river to the church." She was describing the descent to the church of my baptism. It was my parent's parish, and there I was baptized April 9, 1944.

The coincidence of time and proximity struck me. I wonder if I could have attended Mass with Dorothy Day --even if I was but an infant.

As I thought about it, I remembered that one summer in my teenage years I was hired to cut the grass at the Grail Farm where Dorothy stayed. I have a vague recollection that there used to be a marker on the property commemorating her visit. (I went back to look for it a couple years ago, but the farm had been sold and the marker was nowhere to be found.)

Then, last month, while I was staying at St. Procopius Abbey in Lisle, Illinois, I saw a lithograph of Dorothy Day hanging in one of sitting areas of the Benedictine monastery. I took a photo of it. It was the first time I ever stayed in a monastery, and outside the door to my room is a picture of Dorothy Day!

Finally, last week, while reading Rosalie Riegle's book Dorothy Day: Portraits By Those Who Knew Her, I came across a new piece of information: "...Dorothy became a Benedictine oblate. She chose St. Procopius Abbey of Lisle, Illinois, because of its special work toward the reunion of Rome and the Eastern church."

Those experiences are what I mean by "a thread." And I ask myself, "Is God trying to tell me something? What am I to learn from Miss Day?"

God says several times in the Bible, "My ways are not your ways." In spite of my efforts to get God to change and do it my way, the Divine One insists on a heaven-inspired modus operandi in dealing with things (and people) on earth.

I'm sure I will continue to ask God not to ask me to read between the lines, especially in critical matters. And I'm equally sure that both Father and Son will continue to do things their way.

My hope is that the Spirit will be there to guide me, to help me enjoy the detective work, to assist me in the adventure of reading between the lines.

Standing In The Mystery

2011-04-21T10:04:00.008-04:00

When you deal with God you deal with mystery. For this reason it's not suprising that there are differences in our perceptions, in our theologies, in our spiritualities.

The Bible opens with two variant perceptions. In Genesis 1 the author thinks of God as transcendent, above and beyond creation; a God who says, "Let it be," and it happens.

In Genesis 2 a different author thinks of God as immanent, with us, in the world, with human qualities. God reaches into the soil to form the body of man and then breathes into the body the breath of life.

Two stories of how God created human beings, two differing perceptions of God.

Similar variety exists in theologizing about how God saved the world. Some theologians emphasize the resurrection of Jesus as the moment of his glorification; others focus on Jesus' crucifixion and death.

The author of 1 Peter 1:3 says God gave us salvation "through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead." The author of John 3:14 says that salvation comes through Jesus' being "lifted up," an ambiguous term which in that context has the dual meaning of crucifixion and exaltation. He compares Jesus' crucifixion to Moses' creating a bronze serpent for the people to look at and be healed.

Which is the source or means of our salvation? In reality we would have to say both. The crucifixion and the resurrection are one act of love.

Because we are dealing with God, we are dealing with mystery, and successful dealing with mystery requires what is often called "non-dualistic thinking." Instead of black-and-white, either-or thinking, we are necessarily led to a lot of gray areas and both-and acceptance.

Those most advanced in the spiritual life, those experienced in contemplation and mysticism, come to acceptance of ambiguity and mystery.

Franciscan friar Richard Rohr proposes that Jesus was a non-dualistic thinker. In the beatitudes we see this kind of mindset: Blessed are the poor...those hungering for righteousness...the persecuted and the slandered.

Our immediate reaction to the idea that someone is blessed when he's persecuted or hungry or in pain is negative. It makes no sense --at first.

Wisdom often comes from standing in the question. The rush to judgment may stifle new insight and growth.

Of course we have to make judgments in many areas of our lives. Conscience must decide whether an act is right or wrong, and we cannot straddle the fence or fall into a relativism which fails to distinguish good from evil.

At the same time there are areas of our lives where living with the uncertainty and probing both sides are to our advantage.

There is tension in celebrating both Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Mature Christians embrace that tension, and allow this non-dual experience to color our thinking and living.

Being open to God's transcendence and immanence, to the Church's holiness and sinfulnes, to opinions liberal and conservative is no easy matter. Most of us want answers, and we want them now. The wait, the uncertainty, the poverty of non-resolution threaten our spiritual equilibrium and peace of mind.

But in truth we must be hesitant to resolve every issue with an immediate and often one-sided response.

To jump to a conclusion too quickly militates against one of the major beliefs of Christianity, namely that Jesus is both God and man, divine and human. After two thousand years we are still wrestling with the consequences of this revelation.

Christ's very being is an invitation to non-dualistic thinking. In the light of his both-and nature we must stand in the mystery.

We can exult in the "happy fault" which brought about Good Friday and at the same time sing with St. Augustine, "We are an Easter people and Alleluia is our song."

Communion of Saints

2011-04-14T11:11:00.010-04:00

Historians think that belief in the Communion of Saints slipped into the Apostles' Creed sometime between the 5th and 8th centuries. The Apostles' Creed was originally a statement of beliefs for instructing converts in the fourth century.

The meaning of the expression "communion of saints" has been disputed. Some think it originally meant "a sharing in holy things," such as participation in the faith and the sacraments. Others propose that the expression referred to "the fellowship of saints" (saints being the martyrs, the confessors, or perhaps all the baptized.) The most common interpretation today is the latter.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church describes the communion of saints as "the unity in Christ of all the redeemed, those on earth and those who have died."

In his book Catholicism Father Richard McBrien explains it in these terms: "The spiritual union of the whole community of believers in Christ, living and dead. Those on earth are called the Church Militant. Those in purgatory are the Church Suffering. Those in heaven are the Church Triumphant."

In other words, a person need not be canonized to be considered a part of this communion or fellowship; even the souls undergoing purgation are considered "saints." And believers still living on earth qualify too.

I saw artistic representations of this belief, this communion of saints, in two parish churches recently --the one was in St. Elizabeth Seton Church, Naperville, Illinois; the other was in St. John Church, West Chester, Ohio.

Artist and former teacher at the Chicago Academy of Fine Art Lilian Brulc created six murals on the rear walls of St. Elizabeth Seton Church in Naperville. In her depiction of the communion of saints Brulc chose 52 individual persons as examples of virtue worthy of imitation.

Some of her choices are to be expected: Elizabeth Seton, Mary, Joseph, Therese of Lisieux, John the Evangelist, Francis of Assisi. Others may come as a surprise: Isaiah the prophet, Fabiola, Raphael the Archangel, Joanna the wife of Herod's steward Chuza, Pier Giorgio, Gabrielle Bossis.

Some are canonized, others are not. Bossis, who died in 1950, was included because of her devotion to the Blessed Sacrament; Giorgio, who died in 1925, was known for his living out the Beatitudes, and his body remains incorrupt. They serve as examples that sanctity comes in many shapes and sizes, and all, whether officially recognized by canonization or not, can be worthy of the title "saint."

In St. John Church, West Chester, there are six extraordinary bas reliefs of Elizabeth Seton, Oscar Romero, Thea Bowman, Dr Tom Dooley, Cardinal Joseph Bernardin, and Dorothy Day.

A committee of parishioners, as a new parish church was being designed, chose these six as emblematic of the communion of saints, as models of Christian life in the modern world. Elizabeth Seton, wife, mother, widow, convert, foundress of the Sisters (Daughters) of Charity in the United States. Oscar Romero , advocate for social justice, the martyred bishop of El Salvador.

Thea Bowman, African-American, convert to Catholicism, religious Sister, witness to Gospel values in her teaching and her struggles with cancer. Dr Tom Dooley, US Navy medical officer, selflessly serving the huge refugee camps in war-torn Viet Nam.

Cardinal Bernardin, former Archbishop of Cincinnati, falsely accused, reflected Gospel values in clearing his name and enduring his fatal bout with cancer. Dorothy Day, social activist, pacifist, servant of the poor and broken through the Catholic Worker Movement.

Perfection eluded nearly all of those honored in the murals and the bas-reliefs, but each reflects the courage that comes from Christ when weak humanity opens itself to the power and presence of God.

In his book Becoming Who You Are Father James Martin, SJ, addresses the call to sainthood: "...whether we work in a corporate office in midtown Manhattan or as a housewife in a small house in Iowa. Whether we are caring for a sick child late at night or preparing a church dinner for hundreds of homeless men and women. Whether we are listening to a friend tell her problems over a cup of coffee or slogging late hours at work in order to help put our children through school...Whether we are rich or poor, young or old, straight or gay: all of us are called to our own brand of personal holiness."

As Thomas Merton put it, "For me to be a saint means for me to be myself."

The Communion of Saints inspires us to be who we are --in Christ.

Encouragement For The Future

2011-04-08T08:55:00.010-04:00

I just returned from preaching a parish mission at St Elizabeth Seton Church in Naperville, Illinois, and from a five-day stay at St. Procopius Abbey in the neighboring town of Lisle.

The mission went well; the parishioners were friendly, receptive, responsive. The monks at the monastery follow the Benedictine rule, and thus "All guests who present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ," and we were.

The ambience of the abbey reminded me of my seminary days: a schedule for prayer, an environment marked by statues and pictures of saints, and silence.

The "talk" of the abbey was the recent election of a new abbot (the man in charge.) St. Benedict wrote that "goodness of life and wisdom in teaching must be the criteria for choosing the one to be made abbot...even if they are the last in community rank." The fathers and brothers at St. Procopius chose the youngest member of their community, thirty-six year old Austin Murphy!

In the Rite of Blessing for a new abbot, the bishop of Joliet, Most Reverend J. Peter Sartain, reminded the young man, "By the grace of God your community has elected you their abbot, their father, the teacher of wisdom. Benedict wanted his monks to seek the Lord with their whole being, and to guide and prod them in that seeking he wanted the monastery to be a school for the Lord's service...

"You take the place of Christ in this monastery...He is wisdom incarnate. He is the Master Teacher. He is the exemplar par excellence of diakonia ...God bless you, Fr. Abbot, and make you the best of teachers."

In his homily Abbot Austin replied, "It is very humbling to have been asked to lead a community with such a tradition. But the blessings God has bestowed on the past are an encouragement for the future. 'God is faithful' and "His mercies are not spent' (1 Cor. 10:13, Lam 3:22)."

The dual experience of staying in a monastery and preaching in a parish brought together two of the chief building blocks of the Church of today and tomorrow.

There are less than 30 monks at St. Procopius, and most of them are elderly. Perhaps 18 are priests; the others are brothers. Only God knows what the future holds for them, but the longevity of the Benedictine tradition (St. Benedict died around 550 AD) suggests the end is not at hand.

The lively faith and Gospel spirit easily discernible in the the laity of St. Elizabeth Seton Parish suggest that the Church is carrying on the commission given to the apostles --making disciples, baptizing, and teaching all that Jesus had taught them.

On the one hand it looks as if many of the elements of the Church which we have known for centuries are poised to undergo revision or elmination. The plethora of convents and monasteries which once marked the Catholic landscape is likely to become more rare. The number of priests continues to decline.

Theologian Karl Rahner said decades ago that the Catholic population would be living in a diaspora-like situation, devoid of the cultural and familial supports on which Catholics had for centuries tended to rely.

On the other hand, we can chart lay involvement in the mission and ministry of the Church on a level and to a degree never seen before.

A wedding of sorts is taking place --where monasteries and parishes are conduits of the energy and personnel required to fulfill the Church's role in the 21st century.

Laity will be inspired and re-charged by the life and regimen of the monastery, and in that spirit will go out to evangelize, catechize, and live the Gospel. Catholics drive by the monastery and see the sign "St. Procopius" and know that inside those walls there are faith-filled people fully dedicated to the Gospel. And in turn those drivers are challenged to translate that same Gospel into their lives and into the world around them.

Monasticism is not dead. It is making a come-back. Abbot Austin's election is a sure sign of hope.

The Gospel is alive in St Elizabeth Seton parish, and in many, many others around the globe.

I have a hunch that monasteries and parishes may be the renewing forces behind the work of the Catholic Church across America. Together they will promote that long awaited aggiornamento.

Christ Died For All

2011-03-31T12:02:00.014-04:00

The Roman Missal, Third Edition, is scheduled for implementation on Sunday, November 27, 2011, the First Sunday of Advent.

This missal is a new translation of the prayers we use at Mass. One of the changes is the response of the congregation to the presider's greeting. He says, "The Lord be with you." The congregation's new response will be "And with your spirit."

The theory behind the new translation is called "formal equivalency," or the Vatican's insistence that the English translation should more closely reflect the Latin words.

The translation we have been using, "And also with you," is described as a "dynamic equivalent," or how we would normally respond in English rather than a word for word rendering of the Latin expression "Et cum spiritu tuo."

Everyone who translates knows that a translator must also be an interpreter, that literal translations from one language into another can lead to misunderstanding and miscommunication. In English we we can say that a person who has died "has bought the farm" or "kicked the bucket" or "passed away." Making literal translations from English into another language may well distort the meaning and halt the communication.

I don't know if this example is really valid, but I like it very much. According to the story, the biblical quotation in English was "The Spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak."

When a translator rendered it literally in Russian, the meaning was considerably changed: "The booze is OK, but the meat is rotten."

In the new edition of the missal, the words used during the consecration of the wine at Mass will change from "It will be shed for you and for all" to "which will be poured out for you and for many."

Critics of the change ask whether people will begin to think that Christ's blood was shed for many but not for all. Since the way we pray affects the way we believe, the criticism has some validity.

On the other hand the New American Bible translations of the Last Supper accounts in Matthew 26-28 and Mark 14:24 speak of Jesus' blood being shed for many. In both instances the original Greek term is pollus, which is usually rendered "many."

Some Scripture scholars, however, note that the Greek word pollus is a translation of a Hebrew expression which really means "all." The New American Bible notation for Matthew 20:28 (where it says that Jesus came to give his life as a ransom for many) explains, "Many does not mean that some are excluded, but is a Semitism designating the collectivity who will benefit from the service of the one, and is equivalent to 'all.'"

Other scholars think many refers to the community of believers, even though the Greek does not say "the many."

Scholars Albright and Mann accept both interpretations, clarifying the matter in these words: "Generally speaking it seems to be assumed that the community is in some sense a synonym for all, else how explain the Pauline assumption that the sacrificial death of Jesus was of potentially universal efficacy?"

No wonder the Italian novelist Umberto Eco famously said, "Translation is the art of failure."

If the way we pray is the way we believe, we will have to be careful not to interpret the many of the institutional narrative in a restrictive way. For clearly the New Testament and the Church's magisterium affirm the universality of Christ's redemption. He died for all.

LAREC

2011-03-23T11:00:00.006-04:00

I just returned from speaking at the Los Angeles Religious Education Congress held in Anaheim.

My mission preaching partner, Jeanne Hunt, and I had two workshops: 1) on different types of parishes and strategies for successful ministry; and 2) on eight basic human needs and how the Catholic Church tries to meet them.

As anxious as I get about such speaking opportunities, I find the experience energizing, inspiring and informative.

Total attendance at the four-day congress is 35,000 Catholics (of which 10,000 are youth).

It is energizing to see this huge crowd of Catholics gather for talks, for liturgies, for informal discussions about Church and the Gospel, about religious education and faith formation.

The ethnic diversity of our Church is more obvious in southern California than in the midwest. I suspect Asaians and Hispanics outnumbered the rest of us by far but there was no racial or enthnic tension.

The only "negative" sound was the fundamentalist evangelical standing with his bull horn outside the convention center excoriating us for being Catholic and assuring us that we were destined for the fires of hell. (I personally found his diatribe comedic.)

Being able to gather with fellow believers for Mass as celebrated in the Hawaiian islands or with a Celtic flavor touches the soul and resurrects awareness that ours indeed is a worldwide Church.

The music is inspiring, whether born of Africa or Ireland or Mexico or the South Pacific. The dress of the Chileans and the art work of the Nicaraguans subtly but forcefully draw us out of ourselves and reflect Jesus' commission, "Go, make disciples of all nations..."

There were more than 225 talks and workshops (obviously more than anyone could attend), appealing to the interests and needs of Church ministers involved in education, catechesis, parish administration and a litany of other parish ministries.

Some are speakers little known (my category) and others are famous worldwide, such as Ronald Rolheiser, Barbara Fiand, Donald Senior, James Martin, Richard Rohr, Joyce Rupp, Kieran Sawyer, Michael Crosby, Richard Gaillardetz, John Allen.

There were concerts (e.g., the "Festival of Cultures"), art exhibits, live radio broadcasts, prayer sessions, the dance for young adults, and an exhibition hall full of vendors selling books, religious articles, vestments, and services. David Haas, Tom Kendzia, Liam Lawton, Michael Sparough spoke, played, sang, and moved our souls.

The public witness was obvious. Catholics could be found all over the area --in shops, restuarants, motels, and probably in Disneyland (though I didn't go across the street to check).

The private witness was equally strong --love of the Gospel, hunger for religious education, opennes to faith formation, eagerness to fulfill the variety of ministries a parish implies--and assuredly inspiring.

I think it would be safe to call LAREC the "mother of all Catholic religious education conventions." It is a shot in the arm for all who participate, an energizing, inspiring and informative opportunity to all who love the Church.

I was anxious about speaking there, but the experience easily turned anxiety into joy. I can't wait 'til next year.

My Lenten Penance

2011-03-17T01:18:00.003-04:00

As a child I observed the Lenten season by giving up candy or soft drinks or sugar in my coffee.

I began drinking coffee when I was eight years old. I always added sugar and milk. One Lent, when I was 10 or 11, I decided I would give up adding sugar and milk. I thought it a substantial penance. That first cup sans sugar was hard to swallow.

When finally Easter arrived I returned the sugar and milk to my first cup and discovered I no longer liked coffee with sugar and milk. From that point on I took it black and liked it that way. (Though I thought about adding sugar and milk as my Lenten penance the following year, I gave up something else instead.)

Every year the Liturgy of the Word for Ash Wednesday proposes almsgiving, prayer and fasting as appropriate Lenten penances. However, the Gospel for Friday after Ash Wednesday makes it clear that Jesus did not impose fasting on his disciples. It seems that even John the Baptist couldn't cope with such an omission: "Why do we and the Pharisees fast much, but your disciples do not fast?"

Jesus' response suggests that he wasn't opposed to fasting, but he did want to keep it in its proper place.

The traditional three practices (prayer, fasting and almsgiving) are good, but the reading from Isaiah for that Friday insists that there are practrices far more important in God's mind than these.

Speaking for Yahweh, the prophet explains, "This, rather, is the fasting I want: releasing those unjustly bound, sharing your bread with the hungry, and sheltering the homeless and the oppressed."

There is, therefore, the danger that our Lenten practices can become ends in themselves. We can become rather proud of our asceticism. We can begin to think we're good Christians, devout Catholics, because we persevere in giving up something for 40 days.

Every genuine Lenten sacrifice is meant to sensitize us to the bigger picture. God doesn't really care about my avoiding candy or eating fish on Friday if these acts do not lead me to greater love or charity or care of those in need.

In the aftermath of the Second Vatican Council the Church simplified the laws of fasting during Lent and abstinence of Fridays. This loosening of the obligation of prescribed penances did not mean penance was unimportant.

The simplification of the mandated penances was to urge the individual Catholic to become more self-disciplined, to put asceticism in its proper context, to re-direct our Lenten observance from self-serving obedience of a law to outgoing-service of our brothers and sisters.

Most of us have to admit that abstinence from meat on Friday is hardly penitential when we choose instead the Admiral's Platter at Red Lobster.

Pope John Paul II said repeatedly that Catholics were not to be overly scrupulous about observing Lent's fasting and abstinence laws. Substantial observance was sufficient fulfillment of the mandate.

The Church's attitude about Lenten Friday abstinence from meat is obvious this year. Friday, March 25, 2011, is the Solemn Feast of the Annunciation of the Lord. The significance of this celebration absolves us of the obligation to abstain from meat on that Friday.

It is a challenge to most people's faith to think that God would send anyone to hell for eating meat on Friday.

Hell is reserved for those who are hateful, indifferent to the needy, abusive of others, lustful, greedy, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

Fasting, almsgiving and prayer must lead us to love, generosity, compassion, respect, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

I have a hunch God laughed that Easter morning when I once again put sugar and milk into my coffee cup and immediately discovered I didn't like the taste. He must have thought, "Young Norman thought he was doing me a favor by giving up his sugar and milk. Instead he did himself a favor. He finally found out how coffee is supposed to taste! If only he would figure out what penances are really all about! Bless his heart!"

Finding God

2011-03-12T08:14:00.007-05:00

Spiritual writer Anthony de Mello insisted that there was such a thing as "One Minute Wisdom."

He meant that insights and "aha moments" occur to us in an instant.

He tells the story of a student who asked the Master, "But surely one minute is too brief?" And the Master replied, "It is fifty-nine seconds too long!"

The disciple was puzzled, and the Master explained, "How much time does it take to catch sight of the moon? Opening one's eyes may take a lifetime, but seeing is done in a flash."

Later another disciple asked, "Where can I find God?"

The Master answered, "He's right in front of you!"

"Then why do I not see him?"

"Why does the drunkard fail to see his home? You must find out what makes you drunk. To see God you must be sober!"

And yet another pleaded, "Help us to find God."

"No one can help you there."

"Why not?"

"For the same reason that no one can help the fish to find the ocean."

Poet Mary Oliver probes the mystery too, in her poem "Summer Day."

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean --
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down --
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Finding God should be easy, but it's not, even with the help of the Baltimore Catechism. I remember well the question and answer:
Q. Where is God?
A. God is everywhere.

It was a reassuring answer, but I was puzzled. Teacher said God was indeed everywhere, but apparently not so much in Buddhism, Hinduism, or even in the Protestant churches.

Our supposed Catholic monopoly on God was unsustainable.

The Bishops at Vatican II clarified it a bit when they said that the sole Church of Christ subsists in the Catholic Church, but many elements of sanctification and truth are found outside its visible confines.

Where there is truth, there is God. I believe that the fullness of the Gospel is found in the Catholic tradition, but I have to acknowledge that God can be found elsewhere too. It would be unconscionable to think a little Buddhist child could not go to heaven.

St. Thomas Aquinas advised us not to be prejudiced by the sources of our information. When something is good, he said, we should commit it fast to memory.

We need not fear the truth wherever we find it. We should not be surprised if God pops up in the unlikeliest places.

Walking In Their Sandals

2011-03-05T09:57:00.006-05:00

I just returned from preaching a parish mission at the Mission Basilica at San Juan Capistrano.

A 16-ton, 40-feet high, gold-leafed reredos or Grand Retablo was recently installed behind the altar, a Spanish design carrying the images of St. Francis of Assisi, Blessed Junipero Serra, St. Joseph, Blessed Kateri Takakwitha, and Our Lady of Guadalupe, plus representations of the three Persons of the Blessed Trinity.

The preaching of the parish mission was devoted to the lives and charisms of the retablo's saints.

The statue of St. Francis recalls the Franciscan missionaries who founded many misions from Baja California up through Alta California, including San Diego, San Gabriel, San Carlos in the Carmel valley, Los Angeles, and, of course, San Francisco.

Blessed Junipero Serra was the Franciscan friar who founded Mission San Juan Capistrano, honoring an Italian Franciscan saint, Giovanni de Capistrano.

St. Joseph had to be on the retablo because of the long-standing celebration of the return of the swallows on March 19, Joseph's feast day.

Although she lived on the opposite end of the continent, Blessed Kateri was chosen as a representative of the Native Americans who embraced the Christian Gospel and lived it to the fullest.

And the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe was "a must" too --a cultural as well as religious icon of the people of Mexico.

Being in San Juan Capistrano gave me the opportunity to spend hours walking through the mission grounds, praying in the old Serra chapel, and reflecting on the sacrifices and courage of the missionaries who came to the New World to spread the Gospel.

In his first letter from Alta California Serra wrote, "Let those who come here as missionaries not imagine that they are coming for any other purpose but to endure hardships for the love of God and for the salvation of souls."

Sometimes the missionaries and the Spanish soldiers who accompanied them were abusive to the Indian populations they thought to civilize and evangelize. Many an indigenous population in mission lands around the world would say, "When the missionaries came we had the land and they had the Bibles; now we have the Bibles and they have the land."

History suggests, however, that Father Serra went out of his way to treat the Indians with respect, compassion and forgiveness. He often pleaded with the military authorities for clemency when the Indians rebelled or stole or even killed.

The rather primitive conditions in which the missionaries lived, their reliance on supply caravans that were often delayed, the struggle to communicate the Gospel in languages unknown to them --these hardships and many others were the price these men had to pay in response to Christ's commission, "Go into the whole world and make disciples..."

At least for a little while I hope to be a little less sensitive to the inconveniences I encounter in trying to be a preacher of parish missions. Compared to what the friars faced in 1776 at San Juan Capistrano, my troubles are petty and short-lived.

I am grateful for the opportunity to see things through the eyes of these California missionaries. Walking in the shoes (or sandals) of someone else helps us gain new perspective. When I hear on March 19 that swallows have returned to Capistrano, I will think more of the missionaries than of the birds.

Cloud Of Unknowing

2011-02-24T17:54:00.004-05:00

When I was a child, I thought priests knew everything.

In grade school, when we stumped Sister with a question, she would often say, "You can ask father that question next time he comes."

What a shock it was when I became a priest and discovered priests don't know everything. What a consolation, as I grow older, to realize nobody has all the answers, that in fact, our relationship with God naturally leads us to stand under a cloud of unknowing.

I suspect the Baltimore Catechism, with its question and answer format, led me to assume that the Church had it all down pat. Such naiveté has since given way to the realization that we always have more to learn.

Jesus' use of parables and paradox is a clue that we are invited to explore, to think things through, to contrast the wisdom and values of the world against the values and wisdom of the kingdom.

Jesus tells puzzling stories: "The kingdom of heaven is like mustard seed...is like a treasure buried in a field...is like yeast." And the values he proposes are outlandish: "Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you...if your right eyes causes you to sin, tear it out...offer no resistance to one who is evil."

Jesus' simple invitation, "Come, follow me," tells us something about the way he works. He didn't say where he was going, how he would get there, and what would happen after he arrived. In a very real sense he kept his disciples in the dark. His ominous "If you would be my disciple you must pick up your cross and come after me" was totally honest, but not very revealing.

As a student of theology, I thought Thomas Aquinas was a giant. It was somewhat disconcerting to learn that after compiling his Summa Theologiae, he concluded that all he had written was just straw.

And I read that at the end of his life Michelangelo said something similar about his work: "It's just dust!"

These conclusions are not depressing but freeing. They stem from one of those "aha" moments which mark the beginning of wisdom. We think we're so smart, so talented, so in control, and finally it dawns on us that it all belongs to God.

Admitting that I don't know very much about God or his plan for creation opens me to seeing life as an adventure. God's insistence on faith rather than knowledge prompts us to take risks, to be open to discovery, to grow.

It's pretty clear that God is never content to leave us where we are. The divine plan calls us to be pilgrim people. We are always in process.

The Bible describes Abraham as a wandering Aramean. Moses spent much of his life as a displaced person or the leader of a people on sojourn. Jesus called the twelve disciples "apostles," a title which means "those who are sent."

Movement, discovery, pursuit of wisdom are all characteristics of God's people. I should not then be surprised that not only do I not know everything, but in fact I don't even know what God has in store for me.

This "standing in the mystery" is sometimes tough, but when I can finally "let go," God has some marvelous surprises waiting under that "cloud of unknowing."

It's OK To Question

2011-02-17T10:09:00.009-05:00

The most challenging question any Christian can face is the one posed by Jesus himself, "Who do you say I am?"

Most of us will be tempted to give a pat answer, affirming that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, the savior of the world.

But if we go back to the question as Jesus posed it, "Who do you say that I am?" the true answer will have to be more personal, not something taught, not something imposed from without, but something realized from within.

And there's the rub. For an authentic answer comes only after a long time of standing in the question.

By nature our intellects seek the truth, but our impatience often leads us to settle for quick answers. We want to know and we want to know right now.

Standing in the question, living with the mystery, requires patience and the honesty to admit, "I don't know."

When some of Jesus' early disciples asked him, "Where do you stay?" he replied, "Come and see!" He refused to give them a pat answer. He wanted them to discover it for themselves.

Jesus does the same with us. The Jesus of our childhood must give way to the Jesus of our adult years. And as we age it becomes clear that our picture of Jesus, our understanding of who he is, changes (or should change) too.

Many Christians rebel against the notion that we do not have all the answers. Those raised on a catechism's Q&A often assume that we know it all, or at least that we know enough.

To question is not to doubt. To question is to be a seeker. It is the sign of a living faith. It implies openness to growth. It means we are stil disciples (the word means "student").

Questioning was what Mary did ("How can this be?"), what John the Baptist did ("Are you the one?"), what Nicodemus did ("How can a man be born again?"). The rush to answer often precludes a full picture.

It's OK not to have an answer to "Who do you say that I am?". It's not OK to stop pursuing the question.

Abigail & John

2011-02-10T01:32:00.003-05:00

I intended to write about John Adams, and specifically what he might think about the political climate in the United States today.

I suspect he would be exasperated by the intrusions of big government into the lives of its citizens, but he would be exhilarated by the protests against it. He believed that every generation should have to fight for its survival.

But on the way to that analysis I was sidetracked again by the relationship between him and his "dearest friend," his wife, Abigail.

David McCullough, in his biography of Adams, wrote, "His marriage to Abigail Smith was the most important decision of John Adam's life...She was in all respects his equal..(a) beneficial, steadying influence."

I think immediately of that common bit of wisdom, "Behind every successful man is a woman." (In John Adams' case I discount Groucho Marx's observation, "Behind every successful man is a woman, and behind her is his wife.")

Not only does the testimony of family and friends link these two souls in an extraordinary relationship, there is also the treasury of letters which John and Abigail exchanged while he was urging independency in Philadelphia and negotiating aid and peace in Europe.

Perhaps the best known exchange between the two of them occurred in April of 1776 when Abigail, responding to John's hope for a congressional declaration of independence from Great Britain, wrote to him in Philadelphia:

"I long to hear that you have declared an independency. And, by the way, in the new code of laws which I suppose it will be necessary for you to make, I desire you would remember the ladies and be more generous and favorable to them than your ancestors. Do not put such unlimited power into the hands of the husbands. Remember, all men would be tyrants if they could. If particular care and attention is not paid to the ladies, we are determined to foment a rebellion, and will not hold ourselves bound by any laws in which we have no voice or representation."

In response, John teasingly replied, "As to your extraordinary code of laws, I cannot but laugh. We have been told that our struggle has loosened the bands of government everywhere; that children and apprentices were disobedient...But your letter was the first intimation that another tribe, more numerous and powerful than all the rest, were grown discontented. This is rather too coarse a compliment, but you are so saucy, I won't blot it out. Depend on it, we know better than to repeal our masculine systems...(though) in practice, you know we are the subjects."

The playful give-and-take between them, the breadth of their discussions and interests, their tokens of affection and bold proclamations of love are unparalleled in the correspondence of other 18th century Americans.

She commented in 1777 on the poor behavior of some of the troops from Massachusetts: "The spirit of venality you mention is the most dreadful and alarming enemy America has to oppose. It is as rapacious and insatiable as the grave. We are in the "faece Romuli non republica Platonis." This predominant avarice will ruin America..."

Abigail quotes Latin in a letter to her husband! (The phrase means, "We have the dregs of Romulus, not the republic of Plato.") She is clearly well-educated. Who uses such descriptions as rapacious and insatiable?

She confirmed in November of 1775 how much she missed him: "Winter makes its approaches fast. I hope I shall not be obliged to spend it without my dearest friend...I have been like a nun in a cloister, ever since you went away..."

Abigail's death in 1818 at age 74, after 54 years of marriage to her dearest friend, was more than troubling to John, but he consoled himself with the realization that their separation could not be as long as the many separations they had endured during his public career.

In response to Thomas Jefferson's letter of condolence, Adams wrote, "I believe in God and in his wisdom and benevolence, and I cannot conceive that such a Being could make such a species as the human merely to live and die on this earth. If I did not believe in a future state, I should believe in no God."

I had intended to speculate about John Adam's reactions to our country's state of affairs today, but I got sidetracked --again-- by the extraordinary story of the relationship between John and Abigail Adams more than 200 hundred years ago.

That one of our nation's founding fathers, known for his irascible and stubborn ways, could write to his intended spouse that he saw her in his dreams "with her fair Complexion, her Crimson Blushes and her million Charms and Graces" forces me to re-evaluate the man and respect him all the more.

That one of our nation's founding mothers should urge the founding fathers to "remember the ladies" makes me re-evaluate the role of women in the establishment of this new nation and admire her all the more.

"For God and country" might well summarize the lives of John and Abigail Adams, though I might have to add "for my dearest friend" as well.

Responsible For All?

2011-02-03T03:00:00.007-05:00

Are we responsible for everyone and everything?

That question comes from Dostoyevsky's The Brothers Karamazov.

In Book Five, Chapter Two, Father Zossima recalls the last days of his elder brother Markel. Falling seriously ill, Markel went through a conversion experience, and as the end approached, Markel became extraordinarily sensitive and kind, even to the point of questioning why the servants should take such good care of him. "Why do I deserve to be waited on? I should wait on you."

His mother thought it was the illness that made him talk like that, but the insights Markel shared from his deathbed suggest something more. He told her, "Everyone of us has sinned against all men, and I more than any."

When his mother objected, he explained, "Mother, little heart of mine, believe me, everyone is responsible to all men for all men and for everything. I don't know how to explain it to you, but I feel it is so, painfully even."

Dostoyevsky often writes like a mystic, wrestling with the mystery of God and searching for the meaning of life. Markel's observation sounds like the insight of a mystic, someone who has caught a momentary glimpse of life's meaning in a wordless encounter with God.

Those of us unskilled in the ways of mysticism often think the wisdom of mystics borders on the absurd. For example, Meister Eckhart said, "Truly, it is in darkness that one finds the light, so when we are in sorrow, then this light is nearest of all to us." And we ask, "What does that mean?"

Teresa of Avila wrote, "The pain was so great, that it made me moan; and yet so surpassing was the sweetness of this excessive pain, that I could not wish to be rid of it." Such insight challenges credibility.

When Francis of Assisi called the sun his brother and the moon his sister, some rolled their eyes. Was he speaking poetically or should we question his sanity? But in his Praise of the Virtues he went further:

Obedience makes us submissive
to all persons on earth,
nor just to humankind
but to all animals
and wild beasts, too,
that they may do as they please with us
as far as God so permits them.

Is that absurd, or are we responsible to everyone for everything?

Jesus insists that we are family. "He who does the will of my Father is mother and brother and sister to me. What you do to the least of my brothers you do to me. Love one another...love your enemies."

I realize that I stand only on the edge of understanding. The mystical experience eludes me. And yet I am not absolved from the responsibility I have toward the world around me.

When I do what is right, good and loving, I am making the world a better place and I send out a tiny ripple of faith, hope and love. When I fail to do what is right, good and loving, I am, in effect, damaging the world and failing the people who live in it.

Looking at the birds in the garden, Markel begged forgiveness, "Birds of heaven, happy birds, forgive me, for I have sinned against you too. Yes, there was such a glory of God all about me; birds, trees, meadows, sky --only I lived in shame and dishonored it all and did not notice the beauty and the glory."

There is a wisdom there, even if most of us cannot explain it or choose not to acknowledge it.

Henry David Thoreau saw it. That's why he would write, "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation."

John Ruskin saw it. That's why he insisted that we have the duty to delight in nature and receive strength and hope from the stones, flowers, leaves and sounds of natural earth.

Jesus saw it. That's why he said, "Consider the lilies of the field...the birds of the air."

Every Sunday we acknowledge our belief in the communion of saints. We gather as God's people, we pray for the deceased, we remember the saints in heaven, we pray for the world around us. We are acknowledging responsibility.

I may not yet be able to explain how we are responsible for everyone and everything, but I think this bit of mystical wisdom must be at the heart of what it means to be Church.

The insights of mystics warn me not to be too quick to think of anyone as being outside the Church, the people of God. Some may be better members than others, but some how, in God, we are all in this together.

Whether I like it or not, whether or not I can explain it, I am then responsible for everyone, and for everything.

Following The Rocky Road

2011-01-27T03:28:00.003-05:00

I didn't know, when I decided to follow Jesus, what a rocky road it would be.

According to the Gospel of Mark, Jesus "saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting their nets into the sea; they were fishermen. Jesus said to them, 'Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.' Then they left their nets and followed him' (cf. 1:16-18).

If you take Mark at his word, you have to wonder what happened to Simon's fishing business. When Jesus called James and John, "they left their father Zebedee in the boat along with the hired men and followed him" (cf. 1:19-20). I wonder how Zebedee felt about that.

When the blind Bartimaeus received his sight (cf. Mk 10:52), he too followed Jesus and his entourage up the road.

And when Saul was stopped on the road to Damascus, his decision to follow Jesus took him to Greece and Rome and death.

The origins of the popular Gospel song I Have Decided To Follow Jesus are lost in history. We do not know who wrote the lyrics, but song historians think the music is a folk melody from India.

I have decided to follow Jesus;
I have decided to follow Jesus;
I have decided to follow Jesus;
No turning back, no turning back.

Though I may wonder, I still will follow;
Though I may wonder, I still will follow;
Though I may wonder, I still will follow;
No turning back, no turning back.

The world behind me, the cross before me;
The world behind me, the cross before me;
The world behind me, the cross before me;
No turning back, no turning back.

Though none go with me, still I will follow;
Though none go with me, still I will follow;
Though none go with me, still I will follow;
No turning back, no turning back.

Will you decide now to follow Jesus?
Will you decide now to follow Jesus?
Will you decide now to follow Jesus?
No turning back, no turning back.

No turning back! I made the choice, and I must persevere.

Mark does offer some consolation. Jesus sent his apostles out on the road, and when they returned from their trip, he welcomed them with compassion, "Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest awhile" (6:31).

And just what are the consequences of following Jesus?

When two of John the Baptist's followers were tempted to follow Jesus, they asked rather sheepishly, "Rabbi, where do you stay?" and he gave them a less than precise answer: "Come and see!"

Following Jesus is by its very nature an adventure. You just do not, indeed cannot, know where the road will lead nor what you may encounter along the way. But you do have this assurance from him, "I am the way. I will be with you. Follow me."

As comforting as these assurances are, it soon dawns on those who follow, "His way is the way of the cross. His presence with us is mediated through faith. His itinerary leads us through death to life."

Jesus never twisted anybody's arm. He issued an invitation. The response is up to those who follow.

Most of us find it intimidating and tiring to follow the leader. And yet we have the best GPS (God Positioning System) anyone could possibly want.

If Dorothy had to follow the yellow brick road, and Moses had to cross a hostile desert, I suppose I can follow Jesus with even greater assurance that I shall find my home in the promised land.

It's just that once in awhile there's something within me that wants to complain, to examine again whether this trip is really necessary, to be assured that though I once was lost now I am found.

Happily, when I complain about the rocky road, Jesus smiles and reminds me, "It's ice cream, my friend. It's ice cream." Amen!

The Problem of Truth

2011-01-20T05:32:00.004-05:00

I took offense at something someone said to me recently.

Instead of humbly accepting his remark, I let resentment dictate my response. I told him I did not like what he said.

He replied that he meant no offense, but I let him know that his words were indeed offensive.

I thought of him as a man with a gun who, shooting randomly and without aim, hits someone and then apologizes, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shoot you. That was never my intention."

Whether he intended it or not, he fired and his bullet struck me in a fleshy, weak, too-sensitive part of my being, and I challenged the shot.

Later I was upset, not so much by being hit, but for my making an issue of the pain. Jesus' words in the sermon on the mount kept coming to mind: Offer no resistance...Turn the other cheek...Love your enemies...Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect. Once again I failed to respond with Gospel values.

Finally in prayer I asked first to forgive and be forgiven, and then to discover the lesson I was to learn from this incident.

God took me at my word. Within hours of my prayer, while I was reading Dostoyevsky's The Brothers Karamazov, I had to pause over what I take to be God's advice.

In the novel the holy man Father Zossima explains how important it is for people to be honest with themselves, "The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to such a pass that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others."

He goes on, "The man who lies to himself can be more easily offended than any one. You know it is sometimes very pleasant to take offense, isn't it? A man may know that nobody has insulted him, but that he has invented the insult for himself, has lied and exaggerated to make it picturesque, has caught at a word and made a mountain out of molehill --he knows that himself, yet he will be the first to take offense, and will revel in his resentment till he feels great pleasure in it, and so pass to genuine vindictiveness" (Book II, chapter 2).

I just hate it when God answers prayer.

So then, the lesson of my incident returns me to the problem of truth.

The advice of Polonius to his son Laertes comes to mind, "This above all: to thine ownself be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man."

There I have it. Three rather significant witnesses: Jesus, Dostoyevsky, and Shakespeare!

In today's political climate, too many public servants are eager to take offense, or at least make offensive something their opponents have said or done. The culture of political correctness has run amok.

But I must be careful not to become distracted by the sensitivities, vindictiveness, and pleasure of resentment prevalent today in politicians, pundits, and members of the press. The lesson of my incident is a lesson for me.

So Jesus and I are going to have to put our heads together and formulate for me, again, his sage observation of 2000 years ago, "I am the way and the truth and the life."

If the truth will set us free, maybe it will free me from taking offense at the words of even random shooters.

Faith and Logic

2011-01-13T02:47:00.004-05:00

Post hoc ergo propter hoc arguments are invalid.

Part of the formal study of philosophy is the science of logic. Logic results from our applying reason to argument and making correct or reliable inference. Logic is sound judgment.

It is logical to draw the conclusion that "John is mortal" when we propose this argument: "All men are mortal; John is a man; therefore John is mortal."

This syllogism, made up of a major premise ("All men are mortal") and a minor premise ("John is a man"), leads to the logical (reasonable, reliable) conclusion that "John is mortal."

Not every appeal to logic, that is, to a reasonable, reliable conclusion, is valid. A post hoc argument is contrary to reason.

Post hoc, ergo propter hoc reasoning argues that one event ("B") happened after another event ("A"), and therefore "A" must have caused "B" to happen.

For example, "I washed my car on Monday, that's why it rained on Tuesday." This kind of argumentation is logical fallacy, also known as false cause or correlation but not causation.

Just because something happened after something else, does not mean that the something else caused the something to happen. Nor can we conclude that avoiding "A" will prevent "B."

If you are still with me, I hasten to add that my reason for all this philosophizing is to debunk the arguments that the troubles we are now experiencing in the Church are caused by the Second Vatican Council.

I've heard it said that the reason we have a scarcity of priests is because of Vatican II. I've heard it said that the reason we have fewer Catholics going to Mass on Sunday is Vatican II. I've even heard it said that the reason for the pedophilia scandal in the Church is Vatican II.

These are examples of post hoc ergo propter hoc thinking, and the conclusions are illogical and invalid.

Long before Pope John XXIII was elected pope (1958) and called for an ecumenical council (1962-65), the Church was showing signs of a decline in priestly vocations. For example, Archbishop Karl J. Alter of Cincinnati in the 1950s noted "a threatening shortage of priests for the immediate future" in his diocese. The same situation was more obvious throughout Europe.

Those who propose that decline in Mass attendance is the result of Vatican II liturgical changes forget to factor in what Michael Casey, OCSO, a monk and prolific writer in Australia, calls "the movement of secularisation that swept through the West in the 1960s." He points to the social changes of that decade which "resulted both from the technological advances and as reaction to the serial horrors of the twentieth century."

You cannot blame Vatican II nor logically connect changes in the Church with the rebellion of the beatnik generation, the atrocities of the war in Viet Nam, the technological exploration of space, the struggle for racial equality, or the mind-numbing drugs and free-love of Woodstock.

And for decades before Vatican II the problem of pedophilia by priests was known and quietly, secretly, and ineffectively managed by bishops in dioceses around the world.

These and other forces were already at work changing people and cultures prior to Vatican II. Among those forces were new means of social communication, yearning for freedom by those under despotic governments, the threat and fears of nuclear annihilation, re-discovery of liturgical practices of an earlier age. Catholics were not unaffected by these cultural influences.

Blaming Vatican II for these current problems is an example of logical fallacy, even if we acknowledge that some of the things done in the Council's name were ill-considered and poorly implemented.

Post hoc ergo propter hoc arguments are not valid.

What is valid is the recognition that we cannot go back to an idealized past. All the Latin and cassocks and novenas we can muster will never bring the Church back to what it was in the 1950s. The nostalgia is understandable, but it lacks logic.

No, Vatican II set a course for the Church, and our best bet is to respond wholeheartedly to its direction.

In the area of liturgy Vatican II encouraged us to participate actively, to return to a noble simplicity in ritual, to think of liturgy as the summit toward which the activity of the Church is directed.

In relating to others, we were urged to enter into ecumenical dialogue with people of other religions, to use the medicine of mercy rather than of condemnation, to promote religious freedom, to be of service to all mankind.

In our personal and communal spirituality, we were advised to read and pray with the Bible, to evangelize, to reflect the ideals of marriage and family life, to think of the Eucharist as the source and summit of the Christian life.

Pardon me if you think I am pre-occupied with the Second Vatican Council. I think and write of it often. My repetitive referrals to that Council are prompted by my conviction that the Council has pointed us in the right direction. I have a 20-year old sweatshirt imprinted with these words: "Join the revolution! Support Vatican II!"

My faith and logic tell me it is still the way to go.

Words Fail Us

2011-01-06T00:28:00.005-05:00

It should be self-evident that we can never fully capture in human words the divine reality.

Whatever we say about God falls short. The human mind and the words we formulate to capture truth are too small to embrace the Supreme Being.

Whatever we say about God we say by way of analogy. For this reason human beings use a variety of literary forms to speak about God. The Sacred Scriptures use poetry, song, folklore, myth, history, Gospel, letters, etc. to express what we perceive to be the truth.

The Bible is the result of our Jewish ancestors' struggle to understand their experience of divinity. Consequently we employ a variety of traditions and theologies to organize the complexity and superority of God.

The first chapter of Genesis emphasizes the transcendence of God; the second chapter presents God's immanence. Is God above and beyond us? Or is God truly with us? The answer to both questions is "Yes." God is transcendent and immanent.

The Bible is trying to express the inexpressible, often by formulating or borrowing traditions. It is a compilation of these traditions. Sometimes the stories have similar incidents but different characters. Sometimes elements of the stories contradict each other.

If you ask most Bible readers, "Who killed Goliath?" their answer is "David," and they may refer you to 1 Samuel 17 to verify it. Some others may give a different answer, and refer you to 2 Samuel 21:19: "There was another battle with the Philistines in Gob, in which Elhanan, son of Jair from Bethlehem, killed Goliath of Gath..." Two traditions, two heroes.

Acts 9:7 says that those with Paul on the road to Damascus "heard the voice but could see no one," while Acts 22:9, referring to the same incident, says they "saw the light but did not hear the voice." Two traditions, differing details.

These discrepancies do not invalidate the effort to understand and verbalize our perception of God's revelation. They do point, however, to the differing ways we experience God, to the variations in how we express that experience.

Theologians have long held that there is greater accuracy in saying what God is not than in saying what God is. In a sense, everything we say about God borders on heresy.

If we acknowledge that there are variations in the experience and that it is impossible to fully understand and verbalize those experiences, are we to conclude that all our theologizing is in vain and that religion is by its nature unreliable speculation?

No, not at all. Would it make sense to refuse to eat a meal because all the food groups are not represented on the table? No, we will eat what is there. Would it make sense to refuse to have a relationship with some people because we cannot meet and know all people? No, we relate to those we can.

In similar fashion, though we cannot know everything about God, we will not for that reason refuse to know anything about the divine. And we can even allow the probability that others may have an insight or a word that expresses the truth better than we do.

In an earlier age Church leaders argued over how best to express the truth that Jesus is divine. The expression "consubstantial with the Father" was chosen to express Jesus' divinity, but that same expression was understood by some to mean that Jesus and the Father are one and the same. Words sometimes fail us.

John the evangelist faced the challenge of capturing the truth: Jesus said, "I and the Father are one" (Jn 10:30) and "I am leaving the world to go to the Father" (Jn 16:28) ---one in being but distinct.

Despite our deficiencies, it remains possible for us to develop theologies, to reject statements which contradict what we know, to explore better ways of formulating our understanding.

At the same time we must acknowledge that we never fully capture God in human language. Good theologizing always requires a dose of humility.

Predictions & Providence

2010-12-30T06:24:00.006-05:00

The end of the year invites review.

Those who chronicle 2010 will record disasters such as the earthquake in Haiti (230,000 dead), the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, and a world-wide economic downturn.

They will recall the introduction of the iPad, the first 24-hour nonstop flight of a solar powered plane, and the end of the H1N1 flu pandemic.

They will remember the rescue of 33 miners in Chile, the deaths of J. D. Salinger, Tony Curtis and Lena Horne, and Obamacare.

Looking back they will register for future generations the memorable events of MMX.

But the end of the year also invites looking ahead.

I am not a Nostradamus, but I enjoy predicting the future as much as he did. (I really suspect his "prophecies" were fillers for the almanacs he published just as proverbs filled in the pages of Benjamin Franklin's almanacs centuries later.)

With feigned solemnity I predict that over the next two years (I give myself leeway to extend into 2012) the following will occur:

1) President Barack Hussein Obama will announce that he will not seek re-election as President of the United States.

2) Former President William Jefferson Clinton will announce his candidacy for President of the United States and he will float the idea of choosing Hillary Rodham Clinton as his running mate.

3) Pope Benedict XVI will announce his retirement and will offer a recommendation about who should be his successor.

4) Environmentalist Albert Arnold Gore, Jr., will warn that continued green-house gas emissions will cause the onset of a new ice age.

5) Both the Cincinnati Reds and the Cincinnati Bengals will have winning seasons.

Remember! You read it here first!

Part of Nostradamus' lasting appeal is our curiosity and fear about the future. We want to know. And yet predicting the future is somewhat like forecasting the weather. There are signs and probabilities about what might happen, but nobody knows for sure.

Jesus made some predictions. He told his contemporaries that the temple in Jerusalem would be destroyed; it was razed by the Romans in 70 AD. He spoke of the end time, when, following great tribulations, the Son of Man will come with great power and glory, but he went on to add, "Of that day or hour, no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father" (Mark 13:32).

Jesus' advice in the face of the unknown was simple: "Be watchful! Be alert!"

But neither his dire prediction nor his sobering advice were meant to leave his audience anxious, distraught or despairing. Heaven is forever telling us, "Do not be afraid!" (Franciscan friar and spiritual writer Richard Rohr says, "'Be not afraid' is the most common single line in the Bible.")

Ours is a loving God, a Father solicitous for his children, capable of bringing good out of evil, always assuring us that there is light at the end of the tunnel. He does not necessarily keep bad things from happening, but he does find a way for goodness to triumph. Ours is a savior who knows his way out of the grave.

I don't know what the future holds. I can suggest that there will be continuing hostility between Arabs and Jews, between Muslims and Christians, between North Korea and South Korea. I am sure terrorist threats and bombings will continue. I predict that commercial television programming will get worse before it gets better.

But in truth I do not know what, when, how or even if these things will happen. All I can have is the assurance that God is the ultimate Master of history and things will turn out as divine providence directs. In the meantime I am to be at peace, not afraid. I am to be alert but not anxious. I am to have faith in God and not worry about tomorrow.

Looking ahead means looking toward God.

Heaven's best blessings to you in the new year!

The Poetry in Christmas

2010-12-23T04:55:00.010-05:00

Some things defy pure reason. I suspect that's why human beings resort to poetry.

Who would send a Valentine card that said, "I have 'a profoundly tender, passionate affection' for you?" The italicized words are the definition of love according to my dictionary. Accurate enough, I suppose, but somehow lacking.

Even a first-grader prefers something less prosaic: Roses are red, Violets are blue, Sugar is sweet, And so are you!

And if the spirit of Valentine's Day is elusive in prose which is the ordinary form of spoken or written language, without metrical structure (another dictionary definition), how much more the mood or ardor of Christmas!

Matthew could not tell the story of Jesus' birth without resorting to mystery and mysticism: Joseph's quandary, a surprisingly mobile star, and astrologers from the east: and Luke had his angelic visitations, a manger for a crib, and shepherds who travel to Bethlehem.

John's account is the most mystical of all: the Word was God, the Word took flesh, and the Word "pitched his tent among us!"

When our ancestors tried to describe God's intrusion into their history, they resorted to all kinds of literary forms: they used myths and folklore, letters and hymns, proverbs and prophecy --prose and poetry.

Jesus too used various literary devices to convey the truth: sermons, miracles, predictions, prayers, and his favorite: parables.

The Church also employs many forms: commandments, homilies, the magisterium, and her favorite: liturgy.

Even the Catechism of the Catholic Church begins its discussion of Jesus' birth in prose ("Jesus was born in a humble stable, into a poor family. Simple shepherds were the first witnesses to this event." #525), but quickly launches into a sixth century hymn by a Greek saint known as Romanos the Melodist:

The Virgin today brings into the world the Eternal
And the earth offers a cave to the Inaccessible.
The angels and shepherds praise him
And the magi advance with the star,
For you are born for us,
Little Child, God eternal.

I have always wanted to preach my best on Christmas but have never come close to matching the occasion. One reason I fail is simple: I am more prose than poetry.

Prize-winning poet Mary Oliver describes writing poetry as a love affair between the heart ("that courageous but also shy factory of emotion") and the learned skills of the conscious mind. The two of them must come together at the same time, she says, or nothing happens.

The heart part "exists in a mysterious, unmapped zone: not unconscious, not subconscious, but cautious." It's that part, as Miss Oliver puts it, which "supplies a necessary part of the poem --the heat of the star as opposed to the shape of a star."

If, as I propose, some things defy pure reason, Christmas must be at the top of the list. And if, as Mary Oliver suggests, "Poets are born and not made in school," I shall never adequately move Christmas from my lumbering prose into passionate poetry.

On the other hand, my just knowing that this very special holyday defies logic and appeals to the more sentimental and spiritual part of my nature gives me comfort and hope. For the time being I am content to revel in the Gospel revelation: "He pitched his tent among us" (John 1:14).

It's nice to know that God is so near, and on Christmas morning, after Midnight Mass, I'll listen for Jesus' ever so mundane and prosaic invitation, "Come, have breakfast" (John 21:12). And once again it'll be a Merry Christmas!

The Power of Blessing

2010-12-16T03:03:00.002-05:00

In one of his books (it might have been Life of the Beloved) Henri Nouwen wrote about the power of blessing.

By blessing he meant saying a good word. He proposed that a benediction (the term means "good word") can counter negativity and raise people's spirits.

The Church offers blessings. In fact it has a whole book of them: blessings for people, blessings related to buildings and human activity, blessings for religious articles, blessings related to feasts and seasons, and blessings for various needs and occasions.

The priest-presider may offer several blessings during Mass: for holy water, the deacon, incense, and, of course, for the people before the dismissal. He blesses the body at a funeral, the rings at a wedding, and a baby at its Baptism.

We ask a blessing before we eat a meal. We have a benediction before an assembly or meeting. We bless ourselves with holy water when we enter a church.

Liturgical blessings are, next to the seven sacraments, the chief sacramental activity of the Church.

Some of the blessings are profound and soul-stirring; others sound as if the blesser is at a loss for words.

The blessing of the sick moves the soul: "Lord, you watch over your creatures with unfailing love; keep us in the safe embrace of your love. With your strong right hand raise up your servants...minister to them and heal their illnesses."

The blessing for airplanes is less inspired: "Grant that this airplane, built by human skill and talent, may make its flights in calm weather."

One frequently told story is about the atheist who insisted that the pope give him a blessing. Trying to come up with appropriate good words, the pontiff at last said (in Latin) the blessing for charcoal: "May you be blessed by Him in whose honor you shall be burned."

Nouwen, however, wasn't thinking of church or liturgical blessings; he was thinking of the kind words, good wishes, and thoughtful praises people can offer to one another.

Someone sneezes, and you say, "God bless you!" Someone does you a favor, and you respond, "Thanks! That was very kind." Someone is hurting or embarrassed, and you say,"It'll be OK."

Sometimes a gesture, like the wave of the hand or a smile on the face, speaks volumes of good words. A driver lets you change lanes, and you signal your gratitude.

In Nouwen's mind, the simple ritual of a blessing (using words and/or signs) makes heaven come down on earth and eases the pain of a broken world.

Every child and most adults like to hear, "Good job!" The affirmation allows the one so blessed to feel for at least a moment, "Hey, I'm OK."

"Thank you" to the cashier at Wal-Mart may over-turn the rudeness of a previous customer. "Good afternoon" may raise the spirits of a tired neighbor or a heart-broken passer-by.

Remarkable to say, a word of blessing to God must delight his loving heart: "Praise the Lord! Alleluia! Thank you, Jesus!"

And the season for freely given blessings is at hand. "Happy Holidays" to the next person you meet would be great, and "Merry Christmas" would be even greater.

My "Thanks" to you too for reading this blog.

And "God bless us everyone!" said Tiny Tim, the last of all.

Vatican II's Golden Anniversary

2010-12-09T06:34:00.008-05:00

There is the perception among some Catholics that the Church's leadership wants to take the Church back to what it was before the Second Vatican Council.

Some clergy lean toward the theology, dress, liturgical style and clericalism of the pre-Vatican II Church.

Pope Benedict XVI decides, on his personal initiative (motu proprio), to allow a return to use of the Tridentine (Latin) liturgy.

The Vatican Congregation for Divine Worship and Discipline of the Sacraments requires English-speaking Catholics to use a new (and highly criticized) English translation of the Sacramentary (the book of prayers for Mass) beginning in Advent of 2011.

The meetings of Synods of Bishops at the Vatican fall far short of the hope for collegiality raised by the Council fathers.

I once asked a priest/historian if it is possible that the spirit and change of Vatican II might be just a momentary blip on the screen of Church history. Will we go back to the way it was?

He said, "No," and went on to explain that the pattern of history shows a period of reaction following significant change. He told me that we should expect to find people who want to return to the seeming security of the pre-Vatican II Church, but once a change has taken place history does not allow restoration to the past.

The Church has been promised the guidance of the Holy Spirit, and Jesus has assured us, "I will be with you always." The theology and renewal reflected in the documents and spirit of the Second Vatican Council cannot be rendered void; those decisions were instructed for the good of the Church and the promotion of the Gospel.

In his book Receiving the Council, canon lawyer Ladislaus Orsy, SJ, reminded his readers that when the Council fathers gathered in St. Peter's Basilica they prayed the traditional acclamation Adsumus, "we are present and listening."

Orsy proposes that the years 2012 to 2015 should be solemnly declared the years of the Council, that the entire people of God ("from the bishops to the last of the faithful," Lumen Gentium 12, quoting St. Augustine) should observe this golden anniversary with that same prayer. He pleads, "Let the cry Adsumus, 'we are present and attentive,' resound --not within the walls of St. Peter's Basilica but throughout the face of the earth."

And I would add a suggestion for still another prayer, namely, that the Church be set free from fear. The Bible is replete with heaven's plea, "Do not be afraid." 1 John 4:18 teaches, "There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear because fear has to do with punishment, and so one who fears is not yet perfect in love." I suspect that efforts to restore the Church to what it was prior to Vatican II are motivated largely by fear.

Going back to old ways does not ensure preservation of dogma nor reclamation of devotion. It is paradoxical but true that things must change to stay the same. That is what Pope John XXIII meant when he made the distinction between the truths of dogma and the language that is used to present them.

Calling a refrigerator "the ice-box" or an automobile "a machine" may have a certain nostalgic appeal, but as descriptions they are antiquated and inadequate for this age.

Vatican II set a course for the future. Lay participation in the mission and ministry of the Church is sanctioned and here to stay. Recognition of and cooperation with other religions and churches in the ecumenical movement do not pose a threat to the one, holy, catholic and apostolic church.

When Father Orsy suggests that "For communities and individuals to enter into the dynamics of the Council is to expose themselves to the ever-surprising action of the Spirit," I say, "From your mouth to God's ears."

Let preparations for the golden anniversary begin! And do not be afraid!

Tenth Parallel - Nigeria

2010-12-02T13:04:00.006-05:00

I’ve just started reading Eliza Griswold’s book The Tenth Parallel, and already I doubt that the jihad of Muslim extremists and the resistance of the Western world will ever be peacefully resolved.

Griswold is a journalist who has for the past seven years traveled along the tenth parallel (the seven hundred mile wide band of land north of the equator, which includes Nigeria, the Sudan, Somalia, Indonesia, Malaysia, and the Philippines) to investigate and report on the ongoing bloody conflicts between Christians and Muslims.

So far I’ve read only about the situation in Nigeria which she describes as “sub-Saharan Africa’s major petroleum producer,” “America’s fifth-largest supplier of oil,” and “one of the continent’s wealthiest and most influential powers…(and) one of its most corrupt democracies.”

Part of the conflict is about whose beliefs are sanctioned by God: Muslims’ or Christians’? Another part is economic. Some non-Muslims have converted to Christianity as a way of combating Muslim oppression. Christian Pentecostalism is growing fast, and one form of Pentecostalism focusing on a “prosperity Gospel” (i.e., the belief that God blesses Christians with economic prosperity) has proved to be a threat to the spread of Islam.

Anglican Archbishop Benjamin Kwashi puts it bluntly, “In Nigeria both sides are growing, and that growth engenders competition.” Kwashi likes to say, “For Christians, God has moved his work to Africa.” He believes that the western world is guilty of relativizing the Gospel, that mainline Protestant churches have moved away from a strict interpretation of the Bible and are leaving to Christians in Africa and Asia the job of spreading the Gospel. According to Kwashi this is where America in particular has gone wrong.

Author Griswold recounts the story of a February, 2004, attack by Muslims against Christian worshippers in the town of Yelwa. Jihadists, shouting "Allahu Akhbar," set fire to a church, shot those who tried to escape, and burned a nursery school, killing at least 78 people that day. Two months later Christians surrounded the town and over a period of two days, according to a report by Human Rights Watch, massacred over 600 Muslims. By 2006 Yelwa was a ghost town.

Abdullahi Abdullahi, a Muslim human rights lawyer, explained to Griswold that the conflicts in Nigeria did not begin with religious differences, but with shrinking natural resources. Muslims then bought into the rumor that Christians were plotting to eliminate them. “If someone attacks you, you have the right to defend yourself –call it jihad or whatever you want—but this was Christian attacking Muslim,” a school’s headmaster told Griswold. “The Christians came in the sense of crusade.”

Archbishop Peter Akinola, president of the Christian Association of Nigeria, formerly from a southwestern corner of Nigeria where Christians and Muslims coexist peacefully, faults western Christians for abandoning conservative morals which in turn weakens the global Church in its struggle against Islam.

“People are thinking that Islam is an issue in Africa and Asia,” Akinola told Griswold, “but you in the West are sitting on explosives. What Islam failed to accomplish by the sword in the eighth century, it’s trying to do by immigration so that Muslims become citizens and demand their rights.”

(Bishop Akinol was once a colleague of author Griswold’s father, also a bishop of the Anglican Church.)

I have much more of The Tenth Parallel to read, as Griswold reports on the situation in the Sudan in Africa, and then about Indonesia, Malaysia, and the Philippines in Asia. I do not know whether she sees any light at the end of this long dark tunnel of religious, economic, ethnic, and cultural conflict. At this point in her expose I am not especially optimistic.

The Tenth Parallel by Eliza Griswold was published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux, New York, 2010, $27.

Deo Gratias

2010-11-25T05:24:00.000-05:00

Our nation's annual Thanksgiving Day reflects not only our gratitude for heaven's blessings (notably food and peace), it also prompts us to be happy.

I've read that increased happiness is one spin-off of gratitude.

The person who is grateful is a person who is, in the words of a Benedictine spiritual writer, "awake, aware, and alert." Brother David Steindl-Rast believes these three practices are "the beginning, middle, and end of gratitude."

(Brother David, age 84, is an Austrian-born Benedictine monk whose teaching about the spiritual life has been heard and embraced all around the world.)

The first step toward gratitude, David explains, is to wake up to the surprises that come in every day life. Many things happen to us and around us during the course of a day that come as complete surprises. Being open to surprise and even embracing it is the attitude which leads to gratitude.

Step two is looking for opportunities to enjoy. David says that most of the day's happenings provide us with opportunities for enjoyment --"to enjoy sounds, smells, tastes, texture, colors, and with still deeper joy, friendliness, kindness, patience, faithfulness, honesty, and all those gifts that soften the soil of our heart like warm spring rain."

"Responding alertly" is the third step. David explains, "Once we are in practice for being awake to surprise and being aware of the opportunity at hand, we will spontaneously be alert in our response. And the response is to enjoy the surprise.

Brother summarizes his conviction in these words: "My simple recipe for a joyful day is this: stop and wake up; look and be aware of what you see; then go on with all the alertness you can muster for the opportunity the moment offers.

"This recipe for grateful living sounds simple --because it is. But simple does not mean easy...Growth in gratitude is growth in maturity...When I am grateful, I am neither rushing nor slouching through my day --I'm dancing."

David's process for achieving an attitude of gratitude can be applied to the celebration of the Mass. What would happen if a congregation full of worshippers went to Sunday liturgy with the intention of being "awake" (open to surprises), of being "aware" (looking for enjoyment), and of "responding alertly" (deciding to enjoy)?

It is not without reason that the Catholic Mass is more accurately called "Eucharist." The New Testament uses the Greek word eucharistia to express the idea of giving thanks. The whole Mass is a thanksgiving.

Some who attend Mass miss this underlying theme of the liturgy. It never occurs to them that they have come to give thanks to God. David's suggestions about being awake, aware and alert would open up the liturgy and the congregation to a genuine expression of gratitude, and surely the spin-off of that gratitude would be increased happiness for those who pray.

Every Mass concludes with the same words: "Thanks be to God!" Some Catholics say those words because they are relieved that the Mass is finally over. Some say those words without thinking. Some others, however, who are awake, aware and alert, say those words because they are genuinely grateful.

For Catholics every Sunday (indeed every day) is thanksgiving day! Every Mass is a thanksgiving meal!

A Schism of Indifference?

2010-11-18T03:58:00.000-05:00

Someone asked me recently, "Father do you think the American Church will break away from Rome, that we're headed for a schism?"

Her question was motivated by her disappointment with the hierarchy's handling of the pedophile crisis and by her perception that the reforms and spirit of Vatican II are being stifled.

I tried to calm her anxiety, recalling the old bromide Ecclesia reformans et reformanda, the Church is now reforming and always will be in need of reform.

My response was lame so I punted, "The Holy Spirit is with the Church, and despite our human failings, the Spirit will guide us to all truth."

Later, as I thought about her question, about whether a new schism was possible, I drew the uneasy conclusion that in a sense a schism is already taking place, a schism of indifference.

And to be precise, the break is not so much with the Church as with Church leadership. A segment of the Catholic population is simply ignoring the hierarchy.

It is not a schism born of rejection of the core beliefs of the Church.
These "schismatics" believe in God, in the Trinity, in the Bible, in the sacraments, even in the essential role of the hierarchy.

What identifies them is their conviction that many "rules" are unnecessarily restrictive, stifling the movement of the Spirit, impeding the spread of the Gospel, limiting forgiveness, and confining God's grace.

They meet to pray, to read Scripture, to discuss --to breathe. They participate in parish liturgy, they lead parochial programs, they strive sincerely to be Christian, they believe they are truly Catholic. They may be under the radar but they are there.

They are frustrated --upset about what they perceive to be a repudiation of Vatican II reforms, an unhealthy focus on power and control, the imposition of unnecessary rules and restrictions, and a paralyzing fear throughout the Church.

It's probably too dramatic to label this phenomenon a schism, even a schism of indifference. In his Encyclopedia of Catholicism, Father Richard McBrien defines schism as "a formal breach in Church unity brought about when a particular group willfully separates itself from the larger community." Strictly speaking then, this phenomenon does not qualify as a schism since there is no formal breach, no separation from the communion.

Nevertheless there are these pockets of disillusioned Catholics, begging for renewal and reform in a Church that seems deaf to their pleas, and yet they have no thought of ever leaving this "one, holy, catholic and apostolic church."

It would be a mistake to deny or ignore their existence, and a greater error to condemn them. The guiding principles are clear: Christ-like love, dedication to the Gospel, openness to the Holy Spirit, compassion for all who are in pain, and dialog, dialog, dialog. In many instances they have, I think, a valid point.

Family members don't always agree with one another, but their disagreements do not cancel the familial bond. Rejection is not an option. Respect is essential. Reconciliation is the goal.

Schism is probably an inaccurate description, but the growing indifference is very real. This is a sign of our times that needs attention.

Deja vu History

2010-11-11T05:26:00.000-05:00

Does history repeat itself?

Philosopher George Santayana (1863-1952) famously remarked, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."

More than a century earlier Georg Hegel (1770-1831) proposed in his Philosophy of History that history teaches us "that people and governments never have learned anything from history, or acted on principles deduced from it."

I was thinking of those observations when I heard about recent rioting in France. The French Revolution (1789-99) came immediately to mind. This time, however, it wasn't a peasant revolt against the king, it was a combination of unions and students opposing reform of the nation's pension system, raising the age of retirement from 60 to 62.

England has been the site of revolution. Students went on a rampage in London against the Tories who proposed a hike for university tuition.

Photographs of these recent protests in France and England are reminiscent of the scenes in the United States in the 1960s: urban race riots, the shooting at Kent State, and perhaps even the sex and drug revolutions caricatured at Woodstock.

Some historians maintain that France's revolution in 1789 came hard on the heels of the American revolution of 1776 because of the fiscal reforms and increased taxes mandated by France's military aid to the American colonies. An example, perhaps, of the inter-connectedness of a global economy.

And the American colonies' protest in Boston Harbor in 1773 reminds us of the 2009 grassroots formation of the Tea Party, only this time the protest was against America's own Congress rather Britain's Parliament.

Are these events in some sense an example of history repeating itself? I've been thinking about that as I read the biography Bonhoeffer - Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy by Eric Metaxas.

Could what happened in the 1930s in Germany find an echo in the 2010s of the United States, or elsewhere?

Germany, still reeling from the losses and humiliation of World War I, looked for a Leader. Mextaxas writes, "The First War and the subsequent depression and turmoil had brought about a crisis in which the younger generation, especially, had lost all confidence in the traditional authority of the kaiser and the church. The German notion of the Führer arose out of this generation and its search for meaning and guidance out of its troubles...the authority of the Führer was submitted to nothing. It was self-derived and autocratic, and therefore had a messianic aspect."

A 2010 Gallup "confidence poll" showed that the United States Congress came in dead last in a list of 16 institutions. At the top of the list were the military (76%), small business and police. Next came church (48%), medical system, U.S. Supreme Court, and the presidency. Finally were public schools (34%), criminal justice, newspapers, banks, TV news, organized labor, big business, HMOs, and Congress (11%).

The American people are extremely disillusioned with congress, and church falls below 50%. When I read what Mataxas wrote about the younger generation in Germany in the 1930s losing "all confidence in the traditional authority of the kaiser and the church," I flinched.

Loss of jobs, increase in taxes, real estate foreclosures, rising cost of gasoline and health care, growth of government, indebtedness to foreign nations --all these cause anxiety and unrest across America today. Is violent protest or civil war possible on our streets?

Pope John XXIII called history "the great teacher of life." In his opening address, he urged the bishops of the Second Vatican Council to disagree with the prophets of doom "who are always forecasting worse disasters" and to embrace instead his perception that "the human family is on the threshold of a new era" and that the providence of God is wisely arranging everything, "even adverse human fortune, for the Church's good."

I want to buy into Pope John's optimism, but the notion that history does repeat itself creates an uncomfortable tension. What must we do to restore confidence in church and government?

I would much prefer to end this piece with a wise answer, but the best I can do at this moment is pose the question.

The Reluctant Mystic

2010-11-04T06:32:00.000-04:00

Mysticism is making a come-back.

There are scores of new books describing this ancient but often negelected phenomenon, and most of them are urging us to be open to it in our spiritual lives.

Theologian Karl Rahner is often quoted: "The Christian of the future will be a mystic or he will not exist at all."

By mysticism, Rahner meant "a genuine experience of God emerging from the very heart of our existence."

Having read the stories of mystics like Bernard of Clairvaux, Francis of Assisi, Catherine of Siena, Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, Therese of Lisieux, Thomas Merton, and more, I am intrigued by their experience but also frightened by the possible consequences if it should happen to me.

Mystical experiences are personal encounters with God. They render a person vulnerable. They are life-changing. And there's the rub for me. I am afraid of the potential change. I cannot predict what God will ask nor whether I will want to respond.

Yet I believe mystical experiences are real, that they are necessary for spiritual growth. I urge congregations to be open to them. I preach of them often. I have come to believe that openness to a mystical experience is the second step in everyone's spiritual life.

The first step (a relatively safe one) is accepting the rules and rituals of religion. As a child I knew the catechism answers, I attended Mass, I prayed the rosary, I gave up candy during Lent. I understood that these made me a practicing Catholic. And for most of my adult life I stayed firmly on that first step.

Now, however, I recognize that there is more --more to one's spiritual life, more to religion, more to being Catholic. The second step is to turn my religion into relationship.

I am to move from method (the many practices of my religion) to mysticism (openness to a personal experience of God).

There is no one definition of mysticism; it can only be described. I think the common denominator in most descriptions is "experience." Chief Leon Shenandoah, chief of the Onondaga nation, who died in 1996, once explained, "Everything is laid out for you. Your path is straight ahead of you. Sometimes it's invisible but it's there. You may not know where it's going, but you have to follow that path. It's the path to the Creator; it's the only path there is."

(Christians do not have a monopoly on mysticism. It is clearly present in the religions and cultures of Native Americans, of Hindus, of Buddhists, of ancient peoples as well.)

Like Chief Leon, St. Paul found the path for his life through a mystical experience on the road to Damascus. And it is reasonable to conclude that this incident was not his only one. He wrote, "I know someone in Christ who, fourteen years ago (whether in the body or out of the body I do not know, God knows), was caught up to the third heaven...and heard ineffable things, which no one may utter" (cf. 2 Corinthians 12:2,4).

Some people out of curiosity, pride, or simply a spirit of adventure want a mystical experience, but these motivations lead to a pseudo-mysticism. Genuine mysticism is motivated by a desire for truth. I think that's why Simone Weil could say, "If I had to make a choice between Jesus and truth, I'd choose truth -for before he was Jesus he was truth."

Part of my fear of mysticism may stem from my awareness that a mystical experience is primarily a right-brain phenomenon. As I understand it, the left lobe accomplishes analytical, judgmental and verbal tasks, while the right lobe processes the sensual, creative and emotional experinces. In a mystical moment the mystic is less in control, less able to analyze, and less able to find the words. I fear being drunk in the Lord.

In addition mystics are often misunderstood. Mystical insights challenge the non-mystical person, and mystical language may be deemed paradoxical or nonsensical. Meister Eckhart was charged with heresy in the 14th century; Thomas Merton has been suspect in our time. (Critics of mysticism like to say, "It begins with mist and ends in schism.")

Now, at this stage of my life, I am once more caught in the trap all preachers face --having to practice what I preach.

Even as I take cautious, fearful baby-steps into being open to mysticism (that is, a personal experience of God), I am convinced it is what God wants for all of us.

It is not enough to know about God; we must come to know him --personally.

What I Believe

2010-10-28T04:42:00.000-04:00

Swiss theologian Hans Küng's latest book is titled What I Believe.

He wrote it, he says, in answer to one of the most persistent questions posed to him: "Be quite honest: just what do you personally believe?"

Küng's response is couched in terms theological and philosophical, but not for that reason divorced from everyday life. He writes about the meaning of life, about a basis for ethics accepted by all human beings, about his personal trials and disappointments with Church leadership.

Küng's explanation of his personal beliefs made me ask myself, "And you, what do you personally believe?"

I have never organized my personal credo in such a way that I could write a summa of my faith and life. I suspect I would discover areas into which I have never ventured, and perhaps some that are contradictory one with another.

God, Church, spirituality, ministry, relationships, sin, grace, Scripture, Eucharist, knowledge --these would be at the top of my list of concerns, but I am regrettably unable to spell out conclusively even for myself what I personally believe about each one and whether those various beliefs are compatible with one another.

"Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope" (cf. 1 Peter 3:15).

At this moment of my life Church looms large as an area of concern. I have been reviewing the documents of the Second Vatican Council and reading histories and analyses of that historic event. I am old enough to recall those so-called "heady days" when we were surprised by what we heard from Rome and excited about the possibilities.

Fifty years later my excitement has abated and surprise has turned to a heaviness of spirit. The hopes, dreams, and promises of the past have clashed with the polarization, ennui, and regression of today.

In 1932 young German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer shocked the congregation which had assembled for Reformation Sunday in Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church in Berlin when he said that the Protestant Church was in its eleventh hour, and that it was grotesquely inappropriate for them to be in a celebratory mood when they were in fact attending a funeral.

Bonhoeffer advised the assembly to wake up and stop playing church. He saw blindness among his co-religionists; he also saw the coming hegemony of the Nazi party. Bonhoeffer's analysis is eerily appropriate today.

Since I am still assessing what I believe, and I leave open for myself the possibility I will change my mind should I discover something new, I at this moment conclude that the Catholic Church is currently idling, in neutral, low on gas and hesitant about which road to take.

The Church, opened by the council to dialogue and involvement with the world, now sits in a paralysis of navel-gazing, overwhelmed by internal scandal, inept in evangelizing, irrelevant to some of its members, and officiously engaged in re-arranging the oft-mentioned deck chairs.

"No one who sets a hand to the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the kingdom of God" (cf. Luke 9:62).

I believe we have lost momentum, enterprise, and direction. History reports that this has happened before. And that history of confusion, doldrums, and dullness gives me hope. For it is in just such circumstances ("darkest before dawn") that something or someone comes on the scene to breathe new life and effect the answer to our prayer for a new Pentecost in our time.

I believe that both history and the Lord's promise to send the Holy Spirit are reasons to be confident about the future.

"Behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age" (cf. Matthew 28:20).

I may not live long enough to see it, but I believe we are standing on the threshold of a new age in the Church. As Francis of Assisi revitalized the Church in the Middle Ages and Pope John XXIII refreshed the Church in the 20th century, someone or something will re-invigorate the Church of the 21st.

I believe the mission and ministry of the Church will be fulfilled. I believe in the dreams inspired by Vatican II. I believe what Archbishop Helder Camara of Recife, Brazil, once professed, "If one person dreams alone it remains a dream. But if we all dream together, it becomes reality."

Perhaps you do not share my beliefs or my dreams, but I think I am in good company when I am with Küng and Bonhoeffer and Camara --and Christ.

Leading Ladies

2010-10-21T05:41:00.000-04:00

It seems to me that women are taking on leadership roles in a way and to a degree unprecedented in history.

You can hardly speak of today's political climate without mentioning Nancy Pelosi or Sarah Palin. Angela Merkel is the current Chancellor of Germany. Aloisea Inyumba is a senator in the Parliament of Rwanda. Three women serve as associates judges on the United States Supreme Court.

In religious circles, women have long been recognized as major players in supporting the work of the Church. Even if official leadership roles have been almost exclusively male-dominated, it is clear that women have made major contributions to the Christian mission, whether we think of the women who provided for the apostles out of their means (cf. Luke 8:1-3) or the legions of women religious who serve the Church in prayer, hospitals, education, and care for the poor and broken.

Every pastor knows that it is mostly the women in his parish who make the programs work. They are the teachers in parochial school or CCD, the bulk of the congregation at weekday morning Mass, the Marthas who launder the altar linens and clean the sacristy, the cooks who organize and provide parish dinners, the most likely to attend faith formation classes or hours of Eucharistic adoration.

It's a common saying that "behind every successful man, there's a woman." It may not be universally true, but I do note that Francis of Assisi had Clare, Vincent de Paul had Louise de Marillac, Francis de Sales had Jane de Chantal, and (dare I say it?) Jesus had Mary Magdalen.

How many of us learned the truths of faith and life at our mother's knee or seated before a woman teacher in a classroom!

Today, however, women need not be and are not behind anyone. Pope John Paul II refused to admit women to the priesthood, but a report by Cindy Wooden of Catholic News Service maintains that Pope John Paul II looked more closely at the role of women in the church than any other pope in modern history.

She notes that during his pontificate "women took over pastoral and administrative duties in priestless parishes, they were appointed chancellors of dioceses around the world, and they began swelling the ranks of 'experts' at Vatican synods and symposiums. In 2004, for the first time, the pope appointed two women theologians to the prestigious International Theological Commission and named a Harvard University law professor, Mary Ann Glendon, to be president of the Pontifical Academy of Social Sciences."

The pope opposed the cultural assumption that God intended women to be subject to men and affirmed their equal dignity. He further explained, "It is universally admitted - even by people with a critical attitude towards the Christian message - that in the eyes of his contemporaries Christ became a promoter of women's true dignity and of the vocation corresponding to this dignity" (Mulieris Dignitatem, 12).

One might protest that the Church has not gone far enough to respect the dignity of women, and whether one likes or dislikes the ladies whose names are given above, there remains the indisputable fact that women are playing major leadership roles in politics and religion.

And that influence is a good thing. The arrogance of thinking that homo sapiens can or should disbar half its members from human endeavors is a mental disorder. It flies in the face of reason.

It may have been true in the past, I mean that observation that "behind every successful man, there's a woman." But it's less likely today. The ladies are now out front, and in many cases the men are trying to catch up. It only makes sense --you can't lead from behind, and the ladies are leading.

God's Good Humor

2010-10-14T06:31:00.000-04:00

I am reading Kathleen Norris' The Cloister Walk, a account of her extended visits to a Benedictine monastery in Minnesota.

One consequence of her experiences at the abbey was a growing respect for the Liturgy of the Hours, and especially for the liturgy's use of Sacred Scripture.

Norris recalled with a smile the observation of poet Oscar Wilde that one of the chief argument's against Christianity is the style of Paul's letters.

Anyone who has lectored at Mass knows the challenge of proclaiming one of Paul's long and convoluted sentences. By the time you get to the end you forget how it began; his meaning becomes elusive somewhere between the first subordinate clause and the third parenthetical observation.

For example, And he gave some as apostles, others as prophets, others as evangelists, others as pastors and teachers, to equip the holy ones for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of faith and knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the extent of the full stature of Christ, so that we may no longer be infants, tossed by waves and swept along by every wind of teaching arising from human trickery, from their cunning in the interests of deceitful scheming (Ephesians 4:11-14).

Norris said that listening to (as opposed to reading) Paul's letters (she didn't mention that it takes a good, interpretive reader to convey his message) allowed her "to take unaccustomed pleasure in the complex play Paul makes of even his deepest theology."

She heard the divine sense of humor in 1 Corinthians 1:21, For since in the wisdom of God the world did not come to know God through wisdom, it was the will of God through the foolishness of the proclamation to save those who have faith.

If I understand Paul correctly, he is saying that we come to know God not through human wisdom but through what it seems to be divine foolishness. Isaiah (29:14) said something similar centuries earlier.

Norris said, "Hearing the passage read slowly one night at vespers, I suddenly grasped the exasperation there, and God's good humor, and it made me laugh."

In 1966 Father Raymond Nogar, OP, wrote The Lord of the Absurd, part of which was a defense of his contention that it is not the order of creation that proves there is a God but rather the disorder, waste and inefficiency of our chaotic world.

The book's title caught my attention more than Nogar's argument. The God I encounter in my life as well as in my religion is indeed the Lord of the absurd.

Is it not absurd that God should create with a big bang, that creation should unfold over billions of years, that the Creator of it all should become part of his creation, that God should succumb (even temporarily) to the penalty of death?

There was a cross on the wall of the sanctuary at Sacred Heart Church in Fairfield, Ohio. It was an odd design. Some parishioner wanted it replaced. Rather than discard it entirely I put out it of the congregation's sightline, on the wall near the sacristy. I had a small plaque placed on it with these words: "You must look for the Lord even in the absurd."

Most parishioners have never seen the plaque. A few thought I intended ridicule. Many got the point: God is everywhere, and the divine sense of humor suggests that we ought to look for that presence all around us and in everything --in Paul's convoluted sentences, in the chaos of the universe, in oddly designed crosses, in the absurd events of our lives.

Protestant Kathleen Norris found God in a Catholic abbey. If I am open to it I can find God in unlikely places as well. God's good humor does explain the Lord of the Absurd.

Lifelong Learning Challenge

2010-10-06T05:53:00.000-04:00

The Fall Quarter of the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute began this week at the Raymond Walters Branch of the University of Cincinnati.

That information hardly makes a banner headline, but it does explain why I was part of a panel of representatives of four major religions: Islam, Judaism, Protestantism and Catholicism. The course is called "Religion Beyond Dogma." It is one of many offered for senior citizens.

I was asked to explain in seven minutes "the core beliefs of your faith." Needless to say, I couldn't do it in seven minutes; the question-and-answer period allowed me to say more.

It was a challenge to listen, speak, compare, and try to be a worthy representative of my Church.

To listen is hard to do. I suspect that's why the daily prayer of the Jew begins with the admonition, Shema, Israel! "Listen, O Israel, Yahweh is God, Yahweh alone!" To really listen one must be quiet, be open, be attentive. Faith comes through hearing.

To speak is easy. But there is a huge difference between having to say something and having something to say. I wanted to be orthodox but practical.

If, as poet John Donne says, "Comparisons are odious," I have to think that contrasts are odiouser (is there such a word?). And yet it is in comparing and contrasting one religion with another that we sort out the truth.

Hardest of all is being a worthy representative of my Church. I know that there are certain beliefs (dogmas) that every Catholic must hold or risk being judged non-Catholic. For example, Catholics are monotheists, but believe in a trinity of persons. They believe that God created the world, that all human beings are made in God's image, that there is life after death. On these we all agree.

But when it comes to representing practices, spiritualities, and theologies, Catholics differ among themselves. For example, most priests in the Roman Catholic rite are not married; in the Eastern rites most are. Catholics pursue a variety of spiritualities: Franciscan, Dominican, Ignatian, or a hybrid of eclectic devotions. Catholic theologians interpret doctrines in different ways. The Catholic umbrella is large.

As I listened to my colleagues explain their core beliefs, I recognized that they too have personal takes on what their religion holds. I heard myself say things to the audience that some Catholics would quickly disavow.

I do not think one religion is as good as another. Dietrich Bonhoeffer said something that I think applies: "If you board the wrong train, it's no use running along the corridor in the opposite direction." Nonetheless I concluded that each of us must apply our religious tradition in a way that translates it into our individual and personal faith.

I think the confrontation between Peter and Paul over Jewish law or the controversy over faith and good works serve as examples that this individuation and personalization occurred even in New Testament times.

Some disagreements allow only one answer, but some permit a variety of solutions. That the Eucharist is truly the Body and Blood of Christ is dogma --you have to believe it to be a Catholic. Whether communion should be distributed only on the tongue is open to discussion and differing practices.

I am not proposing that Catholics should pick and choose beliefs and practices simply as they please. Cafeteria Catholicism is not my focus.

Rather, what came to me as I participated on the ecumenical panel was the need for all believers to personalize their religion if it is to be more than an academic exercise or a practice of culture.

Religion should be an interiorized, personalized expression of one's relationship with God. Muslims, Jews, Protestants and Catholics all share a common family bond --we are children of Abraham. But we deny that relationship if we do not make it personal.

I may not always agree with my brothers and sisters but they remain my family. If the ecumenical movement is to be successful, if Jesus' prayer that they all may be one is ever to be answered, it will require each family member to do his or her best to translate that truth into real life.

To be faithful to one's religious tradition and yet make it one's own is the lifelong learning challenge of every authentic believer.

Knowledge of God

2010-09-30T05:46:00.000-04:00

I came across the Pew Research Center's report, U.S. Religious Knowledge Survey, released September 28, 2010. The researchers questioned 3,412 Americans age 18 and older about their knowledge of religion.

One of the surprising results of this report is that atheists and agnostics scored higher than Jews, Mormons, Protestants and Catholics.

The survey asked 32 questions. On average the atheist/agnostic group answered 20.9 correctly, while white Catholics scored 16.0. Other groups included Jews at 20.5, Mormons at 20.3, white mainline Protestants at 15.8, Hispanic Catholics at 11.5, and the "nothing in particular religion group" at 15.2.

Most Protestants did not know that Martin Luther inspired the Protestant Reformation. About 43% of the Jews did not know that Maimonides, the highly venerated 12th century rabbi, was Jewish.

Of the Catholics surveyed 45% did not know that their Church believes that the bread and wine of the Eucharist do not merely symbolize but actually become the body and blood of Christ at Mass.

These results are rather discouraging, especially the report about Catholics and their understanding of the Eucharist.

The New Testament directs all believers, "Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope..." (cf.1 Peter 3:15).

The Pew research suggests that many Catholics are not prepared to do so.

Fifty years ago most U. S. Catholics could respond to questions about their religion with the concise answers they memorized from the Baltimore Catechism. Most grey-haired Catholics today can still tell you what a sacrament is: "...an outward sign instituted by Christ to give grace."

The problem with question-and-answer catechisms was their simplicity. The answers were helpful but they left a lot unsaid. The Vatican's Catechism of the Catholic Church does not use the old method. Truth tends to require more nuance than the questions-and-answers would allow.

The Pew survey asked whether respondents read books about religion, or went online for such information. About 48% of those affiliated with a religion said that they seldom or never read books or consult websites about their own religion, and 70% said they seldom or never read about other religions.

If the results of this Pew survey are valid, then it is clear that Catholics need to catch up on their knowledge of the word of God.

Catholics need to be evangelized, that is, be presented the Gospel in such a way that they say, "Aha! Makes sense!"

Catholics need to be catechized, that is, presented the facts and insights that enable them to say, "I see it more clearly."

Catholics need some familiarity with theology, that is, to recognize that the truths of faith are often complex and require ongoing exploration, as when we say that God is one but triune.

Catholics need to participate in the liturgy, that is, to celebrate God's word and pray over its consequences for our lives.

Catholics need to be missionary, that is, to share their faith convictions with others; to evangelize.

Catholics need ministry, that is, to translate the Gospel into action, to be servants of the word.

Catholics need to hear, learn, study, celebrate, give witness, and become involved --ways in which we gain knowledge of our religion.

Baptism and Confirmation imply that a Christian is expected to hand on the Gospel to others. A Catholic must not simply consider himself Catholic; he has to be one.

God's Mother

2010-09-23T05:43:00.000-04:00

I think we do a disservice to Mary if we depict her as simple, meek, and mild.

Details about her are few, but the New Testament suggests that she was complex, forthright, even bold.

In Luke's portrait, Mary challenges the angel Gabriel with a rather bold question, "And how will this be since I am not in a sexual relationship?"

In John's portrayal, Mary shows the chutzpah of the stereo-typical Jewish mother. Even though Jesus seems reluctant to intervene on behalf of the bride and groom at Cana, Mary tells the catering staff, "Do whatever he tells you."

Later in his account, John recalls that Mary was there on Calvary, standing beneath the cross and accepting Jesus' instruction to be a mother to one of his disciples.

I think of Mary as a remarkably pious woman, probably a mystic, not afraid of mystery but equally inquisitive, "Son, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been looking for you with great anxiety." In response to Jesus' cryptic reply, it is written that she did not understand but "kept his sayings in her heart."

The Magnificat alone defies picturing a shy, retiring, saccharine Mary. She identifies with the lowly, but gladly acknowledges that future generations will hail her as the blessed one. She proclaims God as the Almighty who acts with power against the arrogant ruling class. She celebrates God's history of raising up the poor and feeding the hungry. She trusts in the promises God made to Abraham and his descendants forever.

Spiritual writer Kathleen Norris underscores the power of Mary's song. She wrote in Amazing Grace - A Vocabulary of Faith, "The Magnificat's message is so subversive that for a period during the 1980s the government of Guatemala banned its public recitation" (p. 117).

Mary's role and significance are further highlighted in these lines from a very widely read holy book:

And make mention of Mary in the Scripture, when she had withdrawn from her people to a chamber looking East. Then we sent unto her Our spirit and it assumed for her the likeness of a perfect man. He said: I am only a messenger of thy Lord, that I may bestow on thee a faultless son.

Then she said: How can I have a son when no mortal hath touched me, neither have I been unchaste?

He said: So it will be. Thy Lord saith: It is easy for Me. And it will be that We may make of him a revelation for mankind, and mercy from Us, and it is a thing ordained.

And she conceived him, and she withdrew with him to a far place.

This description is found in the Muslim holy book, The Koran, Surah xix, 16-22. The whole chapter is titled Mary. The religion of Islam honors her.

Theotokos, the God-bearer, is a strong, spiritually deep, courageous woman. Iconography too often diminishes her spirit and demeanor, painting instead a woman of sentimental sweetness and chemerical complexion. I refuse to believe that Mary had blond hair and blue eyes.

I prefer to picture her as a real woman, more beautiful in soul than in face -humble but durable, kind but challenging.

I wish I could show you a picture of a statue of Mary that adorns the wall of the chapel at St. Vincent's Seminary in Latrobe, Pennsylvania. Standing tall, she rests her cheek in the palm of her hand, and looks down to the chairs where the seminarians and priests sit for prayer. The gesture and the look on her face are open to varying interpretations, but I think her expression, if verbalized and punctuated with a sigh, would say, "Oh my.....!"

Now that's how I think of God's Mother.

Uniformity vs. Unity

2010-09-16T05:42:00.000-04:00

Starting in Advent of 2011 English-speaking Catholics will use a new translation for Mass, the Revised Roman Missal, Third Edition.

It is said that the new translation better reflects the Latin text. It is a "word-for-word translation" as opposed to the "dynamic equivalent translation" we have been using for nearly 40 years.

For example, the Latin expression "Et cum spiritu tuo," when rendered word-for-word, is "And with your spirit." We have been saying, "And also with you."

The translation we have been using since 1974 was thought to better reflect the way we speak English (hence, "dynamic equivalent"). The new translation will have "And with your spirit" (the "word-for-word" method of translating --though if we really translated word-for-word we would would be saying, "And with spirit your").

There have been rumblings among clergy and laity alike about having to make a change, about clumsy expressions and poor grammar in the new word-for-word rendering, about Vatican (Roman) control of a vernacular translation.

It is well-known that fear of Vatican control over local issues is a stumbling block in discussions about the reunion of Anglicans and others with Roman Catholics.

The former (now retired) Archbishop of San Francisco, John R. Quinn, addressed this issue in his book The Reform of the Papacy (Crossroad Publishing, 1999). He wrote:

One of the great ecumenical concerns today and an obstacle to Christian unity, is the fear that the Pope can arbitrarily intervene in the affairs of local or regional churches and that he does in fact do so. For instance, the repeated rejection by Rome of decisions made by the Episcopal Conference of the United States {that is, the US bishops conference} is interpreted by many Orthodox, Anglicans, and Protestants as an indication of "what it would be like" if they entered into full communion with Rome.

One of the major issues at the Second Vatican Council was the relationship between the authority of the pope and the authority of the bishops as succesors of the apostles. Many Catholics assume that the pope is the head of the corporation and the bishops simply take orders from the pope. That assumption is incorrect; the long-standing, biblically-based tradition of the Church indicates otherwise.

Bishops have authority by virtue of their ordination; they do not have to be given authority by the pope. This relationship between pope and bishops is complex. Chapter three of Lumen Gentium, the Vatican II document about the Church, tries to explain the relationship; it is only partially successful.

In 1995 Pope John Paul II issued the letter Ut unum sint ("That they all may be one"), in which he acknowledged that "the Catholic Church's conviction that in the ministry of the Bishop of Rome she has preserved...the visible sign and guarantor of unity, constitutes a difficulty for most other Christians" (cf. UUS, #88).

The pope explained that the Church cannot renounce papal primacy because it is essential to the Church's mission, but the way of exercising that primacy "is nonetheless open to a new situation" (#95).

This acknowledgement by Pope John Paul II excited many within and outside the Catholic Church. When this admission that the way the pope exercises his primacy could be modified was added to Vatican II's recognition of the bishops' local authority, it seemed as if the Vatican was going to promote the freedom of bishops' conferences to lead their people on the local level. This freedom was theirs by divine right but had been severely curtailed by papal interventions over the past few centuries.

However, the ongoing and constant insistence of the Vatican that the pope and his Curia are the final judge of local matters undermines the teachings of both Ut unum sint and Lumen Gentium.

So it must be asked, "Is not the Vatican's modifying critique of the new English translation proposed by the United States bishops another blow to restoration of Church unity?" Is the Vatican's exercise of primacy in this non-essential matter of a word-for-word translation worth the price?

It sends the message to our separated brothers and sisters that if they unite with Rome they too will lose autonomy in non-essential matters. Would Anglicans have to give up their tradition of married clergy? Would Greek Orthodox churches have to submit their rituals to Rome for approval?

There seems to be a debilitating conflict between the Vatican's need for uniformity and Jesus' prayer for unity.

Mystery of Faith

2010-09-09T05:40:00.000-04:00

I don't like not knowing. I don't like ambiguity. I don't like mystery. But if I'm going to be a Christian I have to make friends with all three.

St. Paul put it simply, "We walk by faith, not by sight" (2 Corinthians 5:7).

Even though God has spoken to us in past times in partial and various ways through the prophets, and more recently and powerfully through his Son, (cf. Hebrews 1:1-2), we still do not know everything.

How could a puny human mind ever comprehend the height, breath, or depth of the wisdom of God? God's ways are unsearchable, his judgments inscrutable. "Who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counselor?" ( Romans 11:34).

Jesus ' teaching was not without ambiguity. He says we must love everybody, even our enemies (cf. Matthew 5:44), and then he insists that only those who hate their parents, their siblings, even their very selves can be his disciples (cf. Luke 14:26). He was fond of couching his message in paradox: to be the leader, you must be the servant (cf Mt. 20:27).

And the mysteries of the kingdom have never been resolved. Jesus spoke about them in parables (cf. Lk 8:8-10) but even when he explained his stories, his disciples were still confused. "But they understood nothing of this; the word remained hidden from them, and they failed to comprehend what he said" (Lk 18:34).

St. Thomas Aquinas argued that the existence of God can be proved. His first argument was based on the need for a prime mover. Then the need for an uncaused cause. And then the need for some intelligent being to direct natural things to their end.

Others have argued that "evil in the world" suggests there is no God, for if God is loving then God should prevent evil, especially the evils of natural disasters. Since God does not prevent such evils, either he is powerless to do so or he is not all that loving.

French philosopher Blaise Pascal concluded that one cannot prove that God exists nor prove that he does not exist. Unable to offer proof one way or the other, Pascal proposed what has become known as Pascal's Wager. He reasons, in effect, that although we cannot prove or disprove God's existence, one has better odds in believing in God since one loses nothing if there is no God but gains eternal life if there is.

Christians come at this issue from an altogether different angle. They generally believe in God's existence because the world and its complexity require an intelligent creator, but they add further that faith is a gift from God, freely offered to those willing to accept it.

Christians not only believe in God, they also believe that God made the world, loves it dearly, and sent his divine Son to help us cope with the mess we have made of it.

This Son of God we call Jesus, and Christians accept him as their Savior and their Lord. They accept his message as Gospel truth and they make an effort, with varying degrees of success, to overcome evil and live according to the divine plan.

There remains for many of us, however, in spite of our faith, a degree of uneasiness. Faith by its very nature implies risk. It means trusting in something, or in this case, Someone.

The uneasiness that leads me to feel uncomfortable about not knowing, about ambiguity, and about mystery is normal and natural, but it does not have to rob me of peace of mind.

Saints and mystics have long offered the assurance that the uneasiness of faith can be reduced by deepening one's personal relationship with God. Faith, then, is supported not by reasoned proofs for God's existence nor by quotes from Jesus' Gospel, but rather rests on a personal encounter with Jesus Christ.

Prayer can be a a religious exercise of words and actions and song, or it can be an avenue of intimacy with the Divine One.

If or when I finally come to trust Jesus implicitly, I will not need the surety of answers nor will I mind the ambiguity or mystery which faith implies.

I have come to believe that the best answer anyone can give to those who question why I believe in God or why I am a Christian is simply, "Because I've met him. I know him. We're friends."

Hidden Treasures

2010-09-02T05:41:00.000-04:00

Two Northern Kentucky school teachers, Mac Cooley and Jerry Gels, have researched and organized two superb Cincinnati walking tours: "Queen City Underground: Breweries, Bosses, and Burials" and the newest "Civil War Cincinnati: Heroes, Halls, and Holy Places."

The highlight of the Queen City Underground Tour is the cavernous beer cellar under the old Kaufman Brewery in the Guildhaus Building on Vine Street near Liberty. Cincinnati's Over-The-Rhine neighborhood once had 130 breweries, bars, and beer halls, and remnants of those glory days are part of the tour and open to tour participants.

Nearby in St. Francis Seraph Church is a crypt where human remains were re-interred in the mid-nineteenth century and tombstones were used to pave the floor.

The Civil War Cincinnati Tour pauses at Washington Park to recall the military recruiting and drills common there in the early 1860s. Across the street is Memorial Hall, with a 600-seat auditorium, built by The Grand Army of the Republic and Hamilton County to honor the military service of local citizens.

Also on the tour is the now-closed Emery Theater built in 1911 to house the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra. The orchestra's new director was 27-year-old Leopold Stokowski. Tourists can see for themselves why the Emery is believed to be the first concert hall in America with no obstructed view of the stage.

A couple blocks away is Old St. Mary's Catholic Church, whose bell-tower, it is said, served as a watch tower during the Civil War against an invasion by Confederates across the Ohio River.

Many if not most citizens are unaware of Cincinnati's history and treasures. Once known as "The Paris of the United States," often dubbed "Porkopolis," nicknamed "The Gateway to the South and the West," the Queen City is being refurbished and its hidden treasures are coming to light once again.

Few who drive downtown's Central Parkway realize that this thoroughfare used to be the site of the Miami-Erie Canal, nor do they know that remnants of a failed and long-defunct subway system still remain below the surface.

It's fair to say that wherever people settle, they leave behind remnants of their culture which in time become cherished relics.

Cincinnati, Ohio, is surely such a site. The German influence is obvious in Over-The -Rhine. Other ethnic and cultural details can be uncovered all over the city.

It makes me wonder what future generations will discover about us. Will they wonder about our accomplishments the way we marvel at the ovens and lager-beer caves under Vine Street? Will they be impressed with the beauty of our decorations the way we stand in awe of the ornamentation in Memorial Hall on Elm Street?

Sometimes, when I assess the art, music, drama, literature and architecture of our day, I draw the conclusion that we are in a New Dark Age.

What shall we leave behind?

Put that question in the context of the Gospel, and we look not to things that perish but to things that last.

Cincinnati has many hidden treasures, and they are revealed only when I go look for them. Perhaps the same is true of life in general. Maybe I need to look around and see the good that people do and realize it shall live after them. Maybe I need to go look for the treasures around me. Maybe I need to become a tourist.

We and everything we manufacture will one day turn to dust. Only one thing lasts, and that is love. And so I question, "Where is my treasure?" And, "Will it last?"

(Further information about Cincinnati tours at www.civilwarcincinnati.com. Further information about lasting treasure at Matthew 6:19-21.)

A New Pentecost

2010-08-26T06:01:00.000-04:00

I was reading The Second Coming by William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), and found again one of the more insightful lines in poetry: The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the center cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty Centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Critics have given no single exegesis or explanation of Yeats' imagery. What is the "widening gyre?" Who is the falconer? What does the falcon represent?

The lack of consensus among the experts gives me leave to propose my own interpretations, and the freedom to change my mind with every reading. As America's librarian Archibald MacLeish insisted, "A poem should not mean, but be."

The poem's title suggests that Yeats was thinking of the Christian expectation that Jesus will come again. This parousia will herald judgment day. Yeats confirms that the world is falling apart and he sees some apocalyptic vision on the horizon forecasting a new stage in human history.

The line contrasting the best and the worst captures the formula for disaster. Jesus saw it: "The children of this world are more prudent...than the children of light." Edmund Burke saw it: "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."

On the world's stage or in the church's sacristy politics today seems to be in a downward spiral. Too many good people are disheartened.

I do not want to be counted among "the prophets of gloom" with whom Pope John XXIII disagreed, but I think we are in one of those valleys which characterize certain epochs of human history, including the history of the Church. Coming off the heady days of Vatican II, the Church has had to struggle to implement the council's vision and spirit. Many members are tired, some are discouraged; still others are afraid.

I don't sense much conviction about the mission and ministry we reviewed at Vatican II. The excitement of celebrating new forms of liturgy, the exhilaration of seeing Catholics and Protestants in friendly dialogue, the enthusiasm of lay involvement in Church ministry, the euphoria of the council's call to holiness re-animating the spirituality of the faithful -- all these prescriptions for aggiornamento have in my estimation slowed and become commonplace.

Jesus too sensed a malaise in his day: "We piped you a tune but you did not dance, we sang you a dirge but you did not wail."

Maybe the biblical visions and images of apocalyptic literature were devised to rouse a sleeping people to awareness and action. Maybe Yeats' "blood-dimmed tide" is an echo of "the sea tuned to blood" in Revelation 8:8. Maybe the beasts of Revelation 13 are mirrored in Yeats' vast image out of Spiritus Mundi in the desert sand.

Experts in poetry may well reject the spin I've put on The Second Coming, but I suspect Yeats would nod generous approval for I am convinced that he is saying, "We've screwed up the last twenty centuries. It's time for a second start."

Yeats' prophecy of the second coming reflects his belief that Christians might do better the second time around as they waken from twenty centuries of stony sleep.

Even in his day, St. Cyprian (200-258 AD) reminisced about an earlier time when "the faith of believers was warm with a fervor of faith still new."

I think this belief prompted Pope John to pray that his council might effect "a new Pentecost in our time," a new age when the best will be full of conviction and the worst will lack passionate intensity.

Truth Is Truth

2010-08-19T05:45:00.000-04:00

Father Mark was scolded by a parishioner for quoting in his homily the observation of a wise and holy Buddhist. "Why, Father, would you quote at Mass somebody who's not even Christian?"

Himself a wise and holy man, Father Mark said, "Why not? Do we have a monopoly on wisdom? Don't you think truth is truth even if it is spoken by people of other religions?"

His complainer was not deterred. "But, Father, they're not Christian!"

"True," he replied, "most Buddhists are not Christians, but neither are they throwaways. God is with them, and Jesus loves them too. Christians don't have a monopoly on Christ."

During the course of its history the Church has often had to make course corrections about this matter.

For centuries the Church's attitude toward other religions came across as negative. In 1858 Pope Pius IX took a young Jewish boy, Edgardo Mortara, away from his parents and raised him in the Vatican because the boy had been secretly baptized a Christian. The pope thought it improper for a Christian to be raised in a Jewish home.

As late as 1958 Catholic liturgy described the Jews as "perfidious."

Prior to the mid 1960s Roman Catholics were not permitted to attend services in Protestant churches. For a time there were some Catholics who believed that only Catholics could go to heaven --a conviction which obviously excluded members of non-Christian religions.

Down through the centuries, however, the Church did affirm that Jews must not be forced to become Christian --see canon 8 of the Second Council of Nicea, 787 AD. Or Pope Gregory VII's acknowledgement in 1076 that Moslems and Christians worship the same God. Or Pope Pius XII's statement in 1951 that "there is truth and goodness outside the Christian religion."

At the Second Vatican Council the bishops corroborated these course corrections: "The Catholic Church rejects nothing of what is true and holy in these religions" (Hinduism and Buddhism), and further stated, "The Church also has a high regard for the Muslims" (Nostra aetate, 2, 3).

Gaudium et spes (#22) went further, insisting that the Holy Spirit works not only in Christians but also in the hearts of all men of good will, for Christ has died for all! "We must hold that the Holy Spirit offers to all the possibility of being made partners, in a way known to God, in the paschal mystery."

Some critics of this Catholic position fear that a sense of indifferentism will take hold and people will conclude one religion is as good as another. Christians in general, Catholics in particular, maintain that all salvation comes through Jesus Christ. We are not saying one is as good as another, but it is the conviction that all salvation comes through Christ which allows us to see Christ and the Holy Spirit operative in the lives of people of other religions.

Long before the Incarnation God loved and saved people. Those who came before the Christian era were not throwaways, nor are the millions of souls today who do not know Christ to be written off. God is busy in many places in many ways.

One of the basic directives of the Christian faith is "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" (Matthew 7:12). This so-called Golden Rule was found in the teaching of the ancient Greek philosopher Pittacus who died some 500 years before Jesus. A form of this rule is found also in Confucianism, in Hinduism, and in Buddhism.

I do not propose that Jesus took the Golden Rule from ancient Greeks or Buddhists, but I do propose that the Holy Spirit of God was at work in the world before the Christian era began. God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, but God's love for and involvement in the world did not begin with the coming of Christ.

Father Mark found truth in the Dhammapada of Buddhism. Tomorrow he may find it in the Rig Veda of the Hindus or in the Qu'ran of Islam. He has found it all his life in the Bible. Truth is truth no matter where he finds it.

God's Nickname

2010-08-12T06:16:00.000-04:00

When Moses asked God what his name was, God responded, "I am who I am." In Hebrew "I am" is rendered yahweh, and we have by long standing tradition assumed that Yahweh is God's name.

Although Exodus 3:15 maintains that "This is my name forever, this is my title for all generations," the Bible reveals that God has been given a lot of names over the centuries, nicknames which enhance his mysterious character or confirm his almighty power.

For many Semitic peoples, El is the word for God. It is probable that El and Allah share the same etymology.

In several places in the Old Testament God is called "El shaddai," the God of the mountain. Sometimes the Hebrew God is designated "Yahweh Sabbaoth," that is, Yahweh of hosts. God is also called "melek" (king) and "adonay" (lord).

Among other nicknames are "eben" and "tsur" and "ḉela," all of which can be translated as rock. In Genesis 49:24 he is called "the Rock (eben) of Israel." In Psalm 18:3 Yahweh is "tsur," or "Rock of refuge." And in Psalm 71:3 God is "ḉela," a Rock.

Last Memorial Day I visited Riverview Cemetery in Aurora, Indiana, with the primary purpose of looking for a rock. I was told about an Indiana Civil War soldier who had fought on Culp's Hill in the battle at Gettysburg. Sometime after the war, Captain Alexander B. Pattison of Company A of the 7th Indiana Infantry went back to Culp's Hill and searched for the rock behind which he had found protection during the battle.

I do not know how he managed it, but he had that rock cut in half and part of it shipped to Indiana, where it now rests on his grave, in section "I'" of Riverview Cemetery, Auroa, Indiana. The minie ball hits are still plainly visible.

Pattison died August 16, 1906, at the age of 71. His burial record gives his occupation as banker, and cancer as the cause of death.

As I stood behind Pattison's rock of refuge, I felt sure that he had prayed Psalm 144:

Blessed be Yahweh, my Rock ("tsur"),
who trains my hands for battle,
my fingers for war;
My safeguard and my fortress,
my stronghold and my deliverer,
My shield in whom I trust,
who subdues people under me.

Our ancestors of the First Testament were quite vocal in expressing their praise for God's protection, for being their rock of refuge. My visit to Pattison's burial plot and the sight of his rock from Gettysburg reminded me of King David's song.

O Yahweh, my rock, my fortress, my deliverer,
my God, my rock of refuge!
My shield, the horn of salvation,
my stronghold, my refuge,
my savior, from violence you keep
me safe.
"Praise be Yahweh," I exclaim,
and I am safe from my enemies (2 Samuel 22:3-4).

I suspect it was in light of the Old Testament that Jesus gave one of his apostles the nickname "Cephas," the Rock, Peter. It also suggests Jesus had a sense of humor. Surely he smiled when Peter tried walking across the water and sank like a rock.

Pattison's experience behind the rock at Gettysburg, the biblical references to Yahweh as the Rock of refuge, and Simon's being called the rock upon which Jesus would build his Church --all suggest that I ought to thank God often for being the foundation and protection of the Church and of my life.

And I think it's all right if I use his nickname in that prayer, for I have a hunch God smiles when I call him Rocky. Of course I must wonder what his nickname is for me.

Liberal or Conservative?

2010-08-05T06:05:00.000-04:00

I was asked recently, "In matters of Church, are you liberal or conservative?"

Since I did not know how my inquirer defined those terms, I chose not to choose. (A good apologist knows that the one who defines the terms wins the argument.) I replied, "I'm orthodox."

My dictionary defines conservative as "traditional in style or manner, avoiding novelty." Liberal is defined as "favorable to progress or reform."

With those definitions in mind I asked myself, "In matters of Church, which are you --liberal or conservative?"

As I read the New Testament I am struck by the simplicity of Jesus' teaching, by his emphasis on God's mercy, by his gathering of disciples who were neither philosophers from Greece nor lawyers from Rome but fishermen from Galilee and a headstrong Pharisee from Tarsus.

He forgave sinners, reprimanded the self-righteous, and warned his followers not to seek positions of rank or titles of honor but to be servants meek and humble of heart.

Jesus was stern: "You know how the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and the great ones make their authority over them felt. But it shall no be so among you. Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you shall be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave" (Matthew 20:26-27).

Things changed over the centuries since Jesus taught and the Gospels were written. In the earliest days one was evangelized, baptized, and then catechized. Celibacy was not required of a bishop; forgiveness of sin did not require confession to a priest; liturgy was in the vernacular; bishops were chosen by the people not the pope.

Something changed when the Roman Emperor Constantine legalized Christianity, offered Church leaders money, houses, and titles, and built basilicas for Christian worship.

Something changed when more and more authority was acquired by the bishop of Rome and the successor of Peter became "the Supreme Pontiff," when bishops became princes and were called "Your Grace," when the priesthood became a career.

Something changed when the Vatican insisted on uniformity at the expense of diversity and unity, when the term "Church" became synonymous with the hierarchy, when the people became "the simple faithful."

Changes in the Church are inevitable, indeed required, if she is to be faithful to her mission in a changing world. But along with the necessary changes came novelties in liturgy (priests turned their backs on the people and spoke in a foreign language), in law (a metropolitan bishop is obliged to request the pallium from the Roman Pontiff, cf. Canon #437), and in papal power (choosing who can be ordained a bishop, or insisting that a non-infallible teaching is definitive and may no longer be discussed).

It seems to me then that a conservative is one who shies away from novelties and cherishes foundational beliefs and practices. A liberal is one who promotes progress, changes and reform.

A conservative Catholic would be one who wants to see his Church drop hierarchical titles such as "Your Eminence," celebrate Mass in the old style (i.e., in the vernacular with the people gathered about the table), return selection of the bishop to the local church community, accept married clergy, and reaffirm the Gospel values of poverty and service in the early Church.

A liberal Catholic would be one who wants to maintain clericalism, celebrate Mass in the recent innovative style (i.e., in Latin with the laity separated from the altar), intensify papal centrism, require celibate clergy, and promote titles, vestments, and practices of the Medieval Church.

My analysis transposes the common application of the terms liberal and conservative, so you can see why I am reluctant to choose one as a self-description. I have come to believe that conservatives are really liberals, and liberals are really conservatives. You perhaps do not agree with my assessment, but then he who defines the terms wins the argument.

Signs of the Times

2010-07-29T06:23:00.000-04:00

I admit I did not understand what Pope John XXIII meant.

In announcing his intention to call an ecumenical council, he said that the Church must "read the signs of the times." I initially rejected such an idea on the grounds that the Church could not learn anything from the world.

Only later did I remember that Jesus had reprimanded his contemporaries for failing to judge the signs of the times, a failure which kept them from recognizing who he was (cf. Matthew 16:3).

Pope John, however, did read the signs. He saw the aftermath of two world wars, the fragmentation which came from technology and science, and the struggle between materialism and spiritual values. He believed the Church could bring hope, peace and unity.

But before it could fulfill its God-given mission, the Church had to humbly read the signs of the times and re-assess how it could best respond with Christ's message and ministry. The Second Vatican Council was to be that re-assessment.

"The Church," as John often reminded the bishops, "is not a museum." It is a servant, responsive to the needs of those it serves. The Second Vatican Council gave us a wake-up call.

The Church is alive, and therefore subject to change. The Spirit breathes where it will, and we are by divine commission sent into the world. Consequently we have a divine mandate "to interpret the present time" (cf. Luke 12:56).

In the quest to read and respond the Church must not dilute the Gospel or compromise its mission. Jesus Christ is the same today, yesterday and forever. The Church has been given testimony from Christ and may not part from it.

At the same time the Church may not divorce itself from the cry of the poor, nor condemn the evils of the world from some ivory tower. Though its dogma does not change, the lanuage used to express it may have to. Practices appropriate to one age may have to be altered to meet the needs of another.

Jesus' admonition applies to us. To be authentic and loyal, we must determine the signs of our times. I offer some suggestions and questions.

1) Church membership is splintered. Some members boast that they are "traditionalists" wanting to return to Tridentine liturgy, put the brakes on "the spirit of Vatican II," and promote papal monarchy. Others are proud to be known as "progressives" wanting to develop multiplicity of liturgical styles, push forward with the Vatican II agenda, and promote collegiality in Church government. And statistics indicate still another group whom we might call "inactive Catholics." How long can a divided house stand?

2) The clergy are choosing sides too. "Vatican II priests" generally support the social teaching and spirit of the Council and want to promote lay involvement and eschew clericalism. "John Paul II priests" are skeptical about "the spirit of Vatican II" and focus on liturgy, clerical status, and a return to the Catholicism of the past four hundred years. What would Jesus do?

3) An explosion of electronic communication is an obvious characteristic of our day. Should evangelization, catechesis and preaching adapt to cyberspace, You-Tube, and Kindle? How?

4) Church scandals such as pedophilia and homosexuality among priests, cover-ups by the hierarchy, and mishandling of Church funds have affected the Church's image and undermined Church credibility among members and non-members alike. How do we restore confidence?

5) The shortage of priests continues to impact dioceses and parishes. Is ordaining married men a solution? Is it Eucharist versus celibacy?

6) There seems to be a growing schism --not so much a public or formal revolt against the pope and bishops but rather "a schism of indifference" in which Church members find Church leaders to be irrelevant, insensitive, ill-suited to serve. Who has drifted?

The handwriting is on the wall. We must not turn a blind eye. If we are too proud to listen and learn from the world, we jeoparadize the very mission we have received. And yet, having read the signs, we need the Spirit to guide our response. Let us pray for a new Pentecost in our time so that we correctly read the signs and then speak the languages of a multifacted world.

Renewal Begins With "R"

2010-07-22T06:34:00.000-04:00

I didn't plan it. There was no rhyme or reason for it. It was just coincidence.

But I found it amusing when I noticed in my stack of books on the coffee table that each author's name began with the letter "R."

First was Karl Rahner, the late German Jesuit whose dogmatic theology had a profound influence on the deliberations at Vatican II. Prior to the Council he had been under suspicion by Vatican authorities and forbidden to publish anything until first it was censored by Rome.

Serving as a theologian-resource for the German bishops, Rahner was asked to review various documents and provide input for their deliberations, especially on the Church, on Scripture and Tradition, and on the Church in the Modern World. He was named peritus (an expert) at the Council.

Next on my stack was a book by Rahner's friend and associate Joseph Ratzinger, a theologian likewise consulted by the bishops at the Second Vatican Council. He and Rahner were critical of the initial document on the relationship between Scripture and Tradition, and the German bishops asked them to compose an alternative text.

Church historian John O'Malley suggests that Ratzinger was "perhaps the most important of the younger theologians (he was 35) at the council." As advisor and peritus to Cardinal Josef Frings of Cologne, Ratzinger insisted that the Council's documents should reflect "the vital language of Scripture and the Church Fathers." Today he is Pope Benedict XVI.

The third "R" was Angelo Giuseppe Roncalli, who became Pope John XXIII, the initiator of the Second Vatican Council. I was reading Journal Of A Soul, the posthumously published diary which he kept from age 14 up to six months before his death.

I especially enjoy his final entry in which he reflects on his decision to call an ecumenical council. He wrote, "I was the first to be surprised at my proposal, which was entirely my own idea...we are now on the slopes of the sacred mountain. May the Lord give us strength to bring everything to a successful conclusion."

Timothy Radcliff was my fourth "R." He's the London-born Dominican friar whose preaching and writing have provided insight and encouragement for developing our spiritual lives.

His What Is The Point Of Being a Christian? explores the treasures of our Faith, and applies them to how we struggle to live in the spirit and love of Jesus. He laments the loss of debate in the Church, and suggests that "we must learn humility, to be docile before the wisdom and language of others' experience."

"R" number five is Ronald Rolheiser, a priest of the order of the Oblates of Mary Immaculate. He has written several books on spirituality, and both teaches and practices spiritual direction.

In The Holy Longing Rolheiser outlines the nonnegotiables of the Christian's spiritual life (worship, social action, and the centrality of Jesus' incarnation), and insists that a true spirituality cannot be divorced from one's every day life.

My final "R" is the Franciscan priest and speaker/writer of things spiritual --Richard Rohr. His ministry combines contemplation and action. He founded the Center for Action and Contemplation in Albuquerque, New Mexico to help people in social service ministries to maintain a healthy balance between prayer and activism.

Rohr's many books explore our Christian commitment and describe a plan for growth. I like Things Hidden - Scripture As Spirituality best of all. He has a way of looking at things from an unusual perspective, leading his readers to re-evaluate and re-commit.

I'm sure it's just coincidence that the books on my coffee table were all written by authors whose last names begin with "R." But I wonder if, in the light of that litany of authors, it's coincidence that renewal begins with an "R" too.

To Be Honest

2010-07-15T06:29:00.000-04:00

I've come to believe that the most difficult virtue to acquire is honesty, and the hardest thing to speak is the truth.

Dishonesty in politics, religion, advertising, business, and social issues is so prevalent that we have become jaundiced and take deception for granted. Diogenes' lamp burns and still he searches for an honest man.

My dictionary defines honesty as "truthfulness, sincerity, freedom from deceit." A more in-depth look at honesty insists that honesty and dishonesty flow from one's intention.

A man could be telling the truth but if his intention is to deceive, he is dishonest. A woman could speak a falsehood but if she truly believes what she is saying and intends to tell the truth, she is nonetheless being honest.

Would it not follow then that honesty is devotion to the truth?

During his trial, Jesus told Pontius Pilate that he had come to testify to the truth. In a response jaundiced by years of military and political intrigue, Pilate asked with sarcasm, "What is truth?"

Had he been at the Last Supper, Pilate would have heard Jesus' unsettling claim, "I am the way and the truth and the life." In his defense Jesus explained, "Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice."

A mystic of the Middle Ages, Meister Eckhart, proposed that "only the hand that erases can write the true thing." I think he meant that to be honest one must assess and re-assess what he says in order to convey the truth.

Poet/novelist Stephen Crane addressed the difficulty and fear that accompany one's search for the truth:

The wayfarer
Perceiving the pathway to truth
Was struck with astonishment.
It was thickly grown with weeds.
"Ha," he said,
"I see that none has passed here
"In a long time."
Later he saw that each weed
Was a singular knife.
"Well," he mumbled at last,
"Doubtless there are other roads."

I think he recognized two things: truth is rare, and it is intimidating to pursue it.

If then I am correct that honesty is devotion to the truth, it follows that Christians can best acquire the virtue by devotion to Christ: "The truth will make you free...I am the truth...Learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart!"

And yet our pursuit of truth, even in and with Christ, is a slow trek. Seldom is it discovered at first glance, and impatience often curtails the chase. It is easier to accept another's word as truth than it is to engage in a personal, dogged quest for it.

I suspect this failure to research the truth and make it a personal discovery accounts for the apathy and infidelity of many Christians. Catechism answers may be sufficient for children, but adults need more. Unexamined truth is seldom convincing in the face of pressure.

Fundamentalists will cry "Foul!" They will insist that one must accept a truth as true simply because an authority has said it. Fundamentalists seek security. Faith-filled people, however, wrestle with the truth --they probe it, test it, and confirm it. Faith by its very nature is risky, and it is in the investigation of truth that it becomes truly believable and binding.

Jacob wrestled with God; that is why he is called Israel. Jesus wrestled with his Father; that is why he could say, "As you will, not as I will it." Countless saints have gone into the wilderness and struggled with confusion and doubt; that is why they are saints.

The Church no longer decrees that error has no rights. It is the freedom to be wrong that leads to the assurance of truth. How many discoveries and inventions came only after long periods of trial and error.

The hero in Morris West's The Heretic put it well: "I claim no private lien on the truth, only a liberty to seek it, prove it in debate, and to be wrong a thousand times to reach a single rightness."

It is the virtue of honesty that promotes the pursuit of truth and protects the pursuer from heresy. It questions without fear because it always seeks the truth. Authority has its place in proposing truth, but no authority can absolve a rational being from being honest. Honesty imposes the obligation of probing the truth and making it one's own.

I've come to believe that honesty is the most difficult virtue to acquire, and the hardest thing to speak is the truth.

Tomorrow's Church

2010-07-08T05:45:00.000-04:00

There is a formula, popularly known as the Hegelian dialectic, for investigating how an idea or movement develops. Although German philosopher Georg Hegel (1770-1831) did not in fact initiate the specifics of this "thesis + antithesis = synthesis" formula (he gave his contemporary Immanuel Kant the credit), the "Hegelian formula" can be useful for assessing why things turn out the way they do.

Put most simply, how things turn out (the synthesis) is the result of the tension between an idea (the thesis) and its opposite (the antithesis).

You can see such tension in the deliberations and documents of the Second Vatican Council. As the Council developed, there emerged an obvious tension between two groups of bishops, a minority and a majority, sometimes described as traditionalists versus progressives.

The final documents often reflect the ongoing contest. For example, the majority wanted to emphasize the God-given rights and role of the laity in the Church's mission by affirming that the laity receive their commission through their baptism and confirmation (cf. Lumen Gentium 33).

The minority wanted to emphasize the divinely-appointed rights and role of the hierarchy by insisting that "the laity should, as all Christians, promptly accept in Christian obedience decisions of their spiritual shepherds, since they are representatives of Christ as well as teachers and rulers in the Church" (cf. LG, 37).

These two ideas or emphases are not strictly contradictory, but the final Dogmatic Constitution on the Church reflects the rivalry between the two forces. The give-and-take of the two Council parties is obvious. The document (the synthesis) is marked by compromise.

The collegial role of the bishops versus the monarchical role of the pope is another hotly contested issue, and in fact remains subject to debate and begging clarification. It will probably take Vatican III or its equivalent to sort out the differences and distinctions.

Perhaps another example of the contrasts can be found in the underlying dynamic of two themes: aggiornamento and ressourcement. Pope John XXIII described the Council as an occasion for updating and renewal (he used the Italian term aggiornamento). Several influential theologians at the Council urged a return to the sources, especially to the Scriptures and to the teachings of the early Church Fathers (they used the French expression ressourcement).

The juxtaposition of two seemingly opposing themes resulted in a synthesis which updated and renewed the Church by consulting the ancient past to rediscover the direction, simplicity and enthusiasm of our Church's origin.

Still another possible form of dialectic is operative today in the struggles between so-called conservative and liberal Catholics. There are those who want to restrain the direction and "spirit" of Vatican II and there are those who believe the Church has a long way to go before achieving the values proposed by the Council.

There are priests, sometimes dubbed "John Paul II priests" who emphasize liturgy, clerical dress, and blind obedience to papal teaching. There is also a cohort of priests, sometimes described as "Vatican II priests," who emphasize social justice, the role of the laity, and critical analysis of Vatican leadership.

There are Catholics in the pew who maintain that the Church has gone too far (too many lay people in the sanctuary, a loss of the sense of the sacred, too much dissent from official teaching and discipline), and there are Catholics in the pew who believe the Church has not gone far enough.

If the Hegelian dialectic is accurate (and experience seems to verify it), it is reasonable to say that the Church of the future will be a synthesis of the theses and antitheses of today. It looks as if the Holy Spirit, the promised guide and guardian of the Church, is working in the dialectics and resulting tensions of ecclesiastical politics.

I haven't studied Hegel's philosophy in many years, but I recall his proposing that Christianity (which he called the absolute religion) is a synthesis of two stages of religious consciousness: the religion of nature and the religion of the individual spirit.

He may not agree with my application of his insight to the Church of today, but neither would he fault me for trying to make sense of the tensions and contradictions we experience as members of that Church.

Tomorrow's Church then is likely to be a synthesis of the theses and antitheses of today --with the guidance of the Holy Spirit.

That Wall of Separation

2010-07-01T11:57:00.001-04:00

The Fourth of July is the closest we Americans come to a national religious celebration.

Of course we maintain that proverbial wall of separation between church and state, but Independence Day does focus on a creed (the Declaration of Independence), on a liturgy (picnics, bells and fireworks) and on a memorial (that moment when our founding fathers pledged their lives, their fortunes and their sacred honor).

The heart of our national creed is the self-evident truth that "all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights."

The reason for forming a government or rebelling against a tyranny is the preservation and promotion of those God-given rights. In 1776 the colonies, "appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions" and relying "on the protection of Divine Providence" declared their right to be free and independent states.

John Adams wrote to his wife that succeeding generations will celebrate a great annual festival with pomp and parade and "solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty...from this time forward forever-more." His prediction of this kind of liturgy and celebration finds an echo in cemeteries, parades and churches across the land.

Somewhere in between the beer and brats, in the midst of red, white and blue bunting, there is a moment on the Fourth of July for remembering the courage and sacrifice of our nation's founding generation and succeeding generations who have imitated them.

From the Lincoln Memorial in DC to the sunken Arizona in Pearl Harbor, Americans pause to remember and many whisper a prayer of thankfulness and praise.

The wall separating government and religion is not so high that Americans must deny either their politics or their religion. When Thomas Jefferson used the expression "wall of separation," he was assuring members of the Danbury Baptist Association that his administration would not impinge on their freedom of religion.

Although some in later generations took his words to mean "freedom from religion," Jefferson was affirming "freedom of." The Constitution guaranteed it.

Our founding generation did not intend to establish a theocracy; the federal government would impose no national religion, no church-mandated laws. Individual states might have to deal with that question, but not the federal government. Yet, having said that, neither did our forefathers intend to ban God or religion from the republic.

There were concerns that 18th century Roman Catholics might be required by the pope to impose their religious beliefs on the new nation. Some papal documents rejected the idea of separation of church and state. But the country's first bishop, John Carroll, in 1784, praised the American system and thought freedom of religion a good way to foster unity of faith.

This concern about papal interference challenged the presidential election of John Kennedy in 1960 because he was Catholic.

Kennedy, in a campaign speech to the Greater Houston Ministerial Association, emphatically confirmed his belief in separation of church and state, and added, "I believe in an America... where no Catholic prelate would tell the president (should he be Catholic) how to act, and no Protestant minister would tell his parishioners for whom to vote."

In 1965 the Second Vatican Council declared that human beings have "a right to religious freedom" and Pope Benedict XVI in 2008 praised separation of church and state as "a guarantee of freedom and autonomy."

Two ideas clashed in Robert Frost's poem Mending Wall: "Something there is that doesn't love a wall" and "Good fences make good neighbors." Our belief in separation of church and state is like that --just as disconcerting and just as necessary.