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.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Vatican II's Golden Anniversary
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!
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!
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Tenth Parallel - Nigeria
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.
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.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Deo Gratias
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!
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!
Thursday, November 18, 2010
A Schism of Indifference?
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.
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.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Deja vu History
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.
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.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
The Reluctant Mystic
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.
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.
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