September 5th, 2010
WHAT MAKES US HAPPY?
The harshest words in all of scripture are found in today’s gospel. And they’re Jesus’ words. ‘If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.’ ‘Anyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple.’
Was he having a bad hair day? Did he have a sleepless night, or had he eaten something disagreeable for breakfast? The scripture scholars tell us that the word ‘hate’ is not to be taken in our modern literal sense. It’s an example of ‘Semitic hyperbole.’ Many in St. Luke’s community knew what Jesus was getting at: they were not to despise their families. Disciples of Jesus were called to love their families, to hold them as very important, but when compared to the person of Jesus, families should come in second, maybe a close second.
Many of those listening to Jesus understood this when, a few years later, they were thrown out by their families, expelled from the synagogue, and went into exile, even suffering torture and martyrdom, because they opted to follow Jesus and spread his teaching.
Without some such background, it would be natural to think that the love of God is not compatible with the love of family. Most of us have grown up with the assumption that happiness is about having possessions, family, rights, respect ….. that life is about a constant quest to get. The message plays over and over in our heads: ‘I have to get this and that in order to be happy, and my heart will be restless until it rests in this or that.’ To the extent that we listen to that voice we will always want more and more. We will never be happy because we will never have enough.
Did you ever become totally absorbed gazing at the beauty of a flower or listening to an intriguing piece of music? During that ‘moment of contemplation’ you were happy. It was a moment of self-forgetting, when you went out of your ego and became totally given to something else. A hobby is meant to offer you ‘the time of your life,’ an experience of happiness and joy, a veritable taste of the kingdom of God.
What makes us unhappy? Brooding over the things we don’t have; constantly listening to the voice within us. The voice will make us miserable unless and until we turn the switch to the ‘off’ position. Joan Borysenko asks a telling question in her book, Inner Peace for Busy People: ‘Why was rest important enough to be a commandment rather than just a good idea? It’s rest that makes creation beautiful,’ she says.
As long as we are capable of love, of losing ourselves in something beyond ourselves, of ‘renouncing’ the commodities our egos want, we will be happy. Jesus, far from having an off day, is trying to tell us to allow him and his values to possess us. If we do so, we will be blessed with wisdom and good judgment about things. We will have a light grip on our possessions, rather than our possessions having a tight grip on us.
In light of this reflection, do Jesus’ words about ‘hating’ and ‘renouncing’ make more sense than at first sight? I guess it all depends on what you are looking for in life.
PASTOR EMERITUS
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
JESUS GOES TO DINNER
JESUS GOES TO DINNER
August 29th 2010
I like to watch what happens when Jesus goes to dinner. Today’s gospel is classic. I’ve been to tons of wedding receptions, dinners beyond counting, not to mention Thanksgiving and Christmas. It’s always party time and everybody is in a good place. There’s good cheer all around: stories are told, food is served and shared, there’s a feeling of togetherness and an atmosphere of warmth, bonding and mutual trust. All are busy savoring the moment, absorbed in the atmosphere.
Turning to today’s gospel, we find Jesus dining at the home of one of the leading Pharisees, ‘and the people there were observing him closely.’ Apparently they had their eyes on more than Jesus, who noticed ‘how they were choosing the places of honor at the table.’ Honor junkies, they were jockeying to be seen, admired and esteemed. Jesus’ dinner host, a leading Pharisee, was probably the most important figure in this honorable group. The dinner party was an arena of ambition and honor, with guests seeking the best spots, but in order to be seen and admired.
That astute and witty observer of humanity’s foibles, Oscar Wilde, once said, ‘the only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about!’ Thomas Aquinas named four fatal attractions: power, pleasure, money and honor. The most deadly of these is honor. The desire for glory, honor, recognition and esteem drives many a politician and pop star. It’s heady stuff; exhilarating but short lived. And filled with emptiness.
Johnny Carson told Barbara Walters after he retired that the exaltation he experienced night after night on the ‘Tonight Show’ almost drove him to suicide the following morning. The sense of despair and depression was so great that he was frequently tempted to use cocaine in order to prolong the previous evening’s ‘high.’
The Johnny Carsons of the world work extremely hard to perfect their art, and they’re entitled to our admiration. The trouble begins when they become unduly attached or addicted to it, becoming enslaved to the opinions and attitudes of their admirers. It’s like becoming addicted to the icing on the cake, which fills you only with sugar and, lacking any protein or energy, drives you to eat more and more, until you diet only on whipped cream. Sickness is the inevitable result.
A dinner party composed of honor seekers is something of a contradiction in terms. They are not present to savor the atmosphere, delight in the moment, but to feather their own nests, their need for admiration. The whipped cream of admiration and glory is the decorative stuff that dehumanizes a gathering that is meant to enable people experience their humanity and make them glad simply to be alive. Jesus recommended a more unpretentious and humble kind of meal, one where people came to serve rather than be served, one where invitees would not be interested in receiving honor and admiration; ‘the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind.’
Augustine in the fourth century identified the three most important things in life: ‘Humility. Humility. Humility.’ The more admired you are, the more you need to be humble. Humility has its roots in the Latin word for ground, ‘humus.’ The Eucharist is for grounded people, people of substance who have their feet planted solidly on the ground. The chief celebrant of our Eucharist, Jesus himself, ‘humbled himself even unto death,’ as St. Paul reminds us.
The bonding between God and his people, and the bonding of people with each other is beautifully expressed in the image of a sacred meal, the Eucharist. As God was about to free his people from the bondage of Egypt, he told them to sit down and have a meal. This Passover meal, to be repeated each year, was to be a sign of his people’s identity, of their solidarity with God and with each other. It was to be a meal of fellowship, mutual understanding and trust, non-violence and peace. Ironically, our trouble began with a bad meal in the garden of Eden when Adam and Eve wanted more than the garden had to offer. They wanted to be like God. Division, expulsion, violence and disruption followed.
Meals are an important image in sacred scripture. The whole dynamic of the Christian life – of God sharing his life with us, and we sharing it with each other - is beautifully expressed in the image of the Eucharistic meal. Vatican 11 describes the celebration of the Eucharist as ‘the source and summit of the whole Christian life.’
When God was preparing to liberate the Israelites from the slavery of Egypt he told them to sit down and have a meal. This Passover meal, would be celebrated yearly and would identify this people as God’s people, a people to whom God was committed and whose members would be committed to each other. Our trouble began with a bad meal in a garden. The Eucharist is meant to restore us to all that was lost in Eden.
PASTOR EMERITUS
August 29th 2010
I like to watch what happens when Jesus goes to dinner. Today’s gospel is classic. I’ve been to tons of wedding receptions, dinners beyond counting, not to mention Thanksgiving and Christmas. It’s always party time and everybody is in a good place. There’s good cheer all around: stories are told, food is served and shared, there’s a feeling of togetherness and an atmosphere of warmth, bonding and mutual trust. All are busy savoring the moment, absorbed in the atmosphere.
Turning to today’s gospel, we find Jesus dining at the home of one of the leading Pharisees, ‘and the people there were observing him closely.’ Apparently they had their eyes on more than Jesus, who noticed ‘how they were choosing the places of honor at the table.’ Honor junkies, they were jockeying to be seen, admired and esteemed. Jesus’ dinner host, a leading Pharisee, was probably the most important figure in this honorable group. The dinner party was an arena of ambition and honor, with guests seeking the best spots, but in order to be seen and admired.
That astute and witty observer of humanity’s foibles, Oscar Wilde, once said, ‘the only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about!’ Thomas Aquinas named four fatal attractions: power, pleasure, money and honor. The most deadly of these is honor. The desire for glory, honor, recognition and esteem drives many a politician and pop star. It’s heady stuff; exhilarating but short lived. And filled with emptiness.
Johnny Carson told Barbara Walters after he retired that the exaltation he experienced night after night on the ‘Tonight Show’ almost drove him to suicide the following morning. The sense of despair and depression was so great that he was frequently tempted to use cocaine in order to prolong the previous evening’s ‘high.’
The Johnny Carsons of the world work extremely hard to perfect their art, and they’re entitled to our admiration. The trouble begins when they become unduly attached or addicted to it, becoming enslaved to the opinions and attitudes of their admirers. It’s like becoming addicted to the icing on the cake, which fills you only with sugar and, lacking any protein or energy, drives you to eat more and more, until you diet only on whipped cream. Sickness is the inevitable result.
A dinner party composed of honor seekers is something of a contradiction in terms. They are not present to savor the atmosphere, delight in the moment, but to feather their own nests, their need for admiration. The whipped cream of admiration and glory is the decorative stuff that dehumanizes a gathering that is meant to enable people experience their humanity and make them glad simply to be alive. Jesus recommended a more unpretentious and humble kind of meal, one where people came to serve rather than be served, one where invitees would not be interested in receiving honor and admiration; ‘the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind.’
Augustine in the fourth century identified the three most important things in life: ‘Humility. Humility. Humility.’ The more admired you are, the more you need to be humble. Humility has its roots in the Latin word for ground, ‘humus.’ The Eucharist is for grounded people, people of substance who have their feet planted solidly on the ground. The chief celebrant of our Eucharist, Jesus himself, ‘humbled himself even unto death,’ as St. Paul reminds us.
The bonding between God and his people, and the bonding of people with each other is beautifully expressed in the image of a sacred meal, the Eucharist. As God was about to free his people from the bondage of Egypt, he told them to sit down and have a meal. This Passover meal, to be repeated each year, was to be a sign of his people’s identity, of their solidarity with God and with each other. It was to be a meal of fellowship, mutual understanding and trust, non-violence and peace. Ironically, our trouble began with a bad meal in the garden of Eden when Adam and Eve wanted more than the garden had to offer. They wanted to be like God. Division, expulsion, violence and disruption followed.
Meals are an important image in sacred scripture. The whole dynamic of the Christian life – of God sharing his life with us, and we sharing it with each other - is beautifully expressed in the image of the Eucharistic meal. Vatican 11 describes the celebration of the Eucharist as ‘the source and summit of the whole Christian life.’
When God was preparing to liberate the Israelites from the slavery of Egypt he told them to sit down and have a meal. This Passover meal, would be celebrated yearly and would identify this people as God’s people, a people to whom God was committed and whose members would be committed to each other. Our trouble began with a bad meal in a garden. The Eucharist is meant to restore us to all that was lost in Eden.
PASTOR EMERITUS
Thursday, August 19, 2010
WHO WILL BE SAVED?
WHO WILL BE SAVED?
August 22nd
'Lord, will only a few people be saved?' The person in the gospel who asked Jesus this question represents us all. I grew up at a time when the issue of making it to heaven was a big deal. Will I get into heaven? Sins and purgatory were obstacles to be got over along the way, and the majority would not make the cut. They would end up in hell. A younger generation would come along in the sixties and seventies for whom this would not be a burning issue. For people of that generation, God was love and was not obsessed with petty peccadilloes; everyone gets to heaven.
I wonder if this attitude has made people indifferent to the faith. Look at the huge drop in church attendance! If everyone is on the gravy train to heaven, why bother with moral discipline and spiritual things? Time and energy would be better spent on the pursuit of material things.
At first sight, the questioner in the gospel didn't receive a direct and clear answer. 'Strive to enter through the narrow gate,' said Jesus. Was Jesus displaying indifference to his questioner? Was he being harsh? There must be something more to this than meets the eye. First, what did Jesus understand by the word 'saved?' To be saved means to share fully in the life of God. By the 'narrow gate' Jesus seems to be telling his friend that he must become configured to God's way of being, which is love. That's no easy matter, nor does it happen overnight.
It took me years to learn how to swing a golf club right and effectively. My teacher didn't tolerate me swinging it any old way. If I had asked him how many of his students got it right, he probably would have told me not to think about that at all - but just keep swinging until I got it right. I think he would have appreciated the dialog in today's gospel between Jesus and his questioner. To enter through the narrow gate requires a lot of practice. To share in the life of God - i.e. to be saved - requires that we surrender to the demands of love at every turn. The budding concert pianist must submit him or herself to an exceedingly rigorous discipline in order to get to Carnegie Hall. To be a hot shot golfer or musician is a difficult and trying undertaking. Nor is it easy to follow Jesus Christ, as the second reading suggests: 'My son, do not distain the discipline of the Lord....'
Heaven's gate, the process of being saved, is the process of walking the path of self-giving love. It's the 'discipline' of the Lord, from which comes the noun 'disciple' and the verb 'to learn.' Through baptism the new Christian becomes a learner, just about ready to take his first lesson. A lifetime of practice and learning lies ahead.
PASTOR EMERITUS
August 22nd
'Lord, will only a few people be saved?' The person in the gospel who asked Jesus this question represents us all. I grew up at a time when the issue of making it to heaven was a big deal. Will I get into heaven? Sins and purgatory were obstacles to be got over along the way, and the majority would not make the cut. They would end up in hell. A younger generation would come along in the sixties and seventies for whom this would not be a burning issue. For people of that generation, God was love and was not obsessed with petty peccadilloes; everyone gets to heaven.
I wonder if this attitude has made people indifferent to the faith. Look at the huge drop in church attendance! If everyone is on the gravy train to heaven, why bother with moral discipline and spiritual things? Time and energy would be better spent on the pursuit of material things.
At first sight, the questioner in the gospel didn't receive a direct and clear answer. 'Strive to enter through the narrow gate,' said Jesus. Was Jesus displaying indifference to his questioner? Was he being harsh? There must be something more to this than meets the eye. First, what did Jesus understand by the word 'saved?' To be saved means to share fully in the life of God. By the 'narrow gate' Jesus seems to be telling his friend that he must become configured to God's way of being, which is love. That's no easy matter, nor does it happen overnight.
It took me years to learn how to swing a golf club right and effectively. My teacher didn't tolerate me swinging it any old way. If I had asked him how many of his students got it right, he probably would have told me not to think about that at all - but just keep swinging until I got it right. I think he would have appreciated the dialog in today's gospel between Jesus and his questioner. To enter through the narrow gate requires a lot of practice. To share in the life of God - i.e. to be saved - requires that we surrender to the demands of love at every turn. The budding concert pianist must submit him or herself to an exceedingly rigorous discipline in order to get to Carnegie Hall. To be a hot shot golfer or musician is a difficult and trying undertaking. Nor is it easy to follow Jesus Christ, as the second reading suggests: 'My son, do not distain the discipline of the Lord....'
Heaven's gate, the process of being saved, is the process of walking the path of self-giving love. It's the 'discipline' of the Lord, from which comes the noun 'disciple' and the verb 'to learn.' Through baptism the new Christian becomes a learner, just about ready to take his first lesson. A lifetime of practice and learning lies ahead.
PASTOR EMERITUS
Sunday, August 15, 2010
THE NEW ATHEISM
THE NEW ATHEISM
August 15th
Today’s NEW YORK TIMES, August 15th, had a short if intriguing piece in its ‘Week In Review’ section entitled ‘Intimations of Immortality.’ Above it was a picture of the ‘Unbeliever Christopher Hitchens,’ a confirmed British atheist. Hitchens, the author of the best seller ‘God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything,’ is dying of esophageal cancer, and says he won’t be changing his mind.
Hitchens is well known to contemporary thinkers and readers. He has a witty, brilliant and sharp mind – one of the few genuinely intelligent critics of religion out there today – and has been traveling this country in recent years debating religion with Jews, Muslims and Christians. With Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett and Sam Harris, Hitchens is one of the ‘Four Horsemen of the New Atheism.’ These gentlemen, when they get going on religion, are master debaters who adopt a ‘take no prisoners’ approach. They may be brilliant, baffling and at times infuriating, but they are never dull. They are the Bertrand Russell of today.
Hitchens & Co. are the big enemies of religion today. Some people see in Hitchens’ terminal cancer the avenging hand of God! That’s hazardous speculation. Many good and holy people have been afflicted with aggressive and unforgiving forms of terminal disease. Is his cancer somehow within God’s providence? Has God permitted it? In the larger picture, God 'permits' everything that happens.
Believe it or believe it not, there are many people praying for Mr. Hitchens. Some are praying for his conversion to Christianity, others that he will face the inevitable with courage and peace. Christ tells us in the gospel to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. Hitchens may be public enemy number one of Christianity today but, whether he believes it or not, he is a child of God, created in love and destined for eternal life.
Hitchens and his ‘horsemen’ need to be opposed. They are running riot with their anti-religion, and need to be met with vigorous argumentation. So far, the Catholic Church is doing very little to defend itself against them. The Vatican announced in May that a series of debates are being planned to take place in Paris next year between ‘noble’ atheists, agnostics and top notch Catholic theologians. By Vatican order, Mr. Hitchens and Mr. Dawkins are to be excluded. In Vatican eyes, they are ‘militant atheists with high public profiles who meet the truth with irony and sarcasm’ - quoted from the Vatican announcement of the debate. Wouldn’t you think that our Church leaders would jump at the chance to talk in public to well known atheists, people with high public profiles…..? Chicken?
PASTOR EMERITUS
August 15th
Today’s NEW YORK TIMES, August 15th, had a short if intriguing piece in its ‘Week In Review’ section entitled ‘Intimations of Immortality.’ Above it was a picture of the ‘Unbeliever Christopher Hitchens,’ a confirmed British atheist. Hitchens, the author of the best seller ‘God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything,’ is dying of esophageal cancer, and says he won’t be changing his mind.
Hitchens is well known to contemporary thinkers and readers. He has a witty, brilliant and sharp mind – one of the few genuinely intelligent critics of religion out there today – and has been traveling this country in recent years debating religion with Jews, Muslims and Christians. With Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett and Sam Harris, Hitchens is one of the ‘Four Horsemen of the New Atheism.’ These gentlemen, when they get going on religion, are master debaters who adopt a ‘take no prisoners’ approach. They may be brilliant, baffling and at times infuriating, but they are never dull. They are the Bertrand Russell of today.
Hitchens & Co. are the big enemies of religion today. Some people see in Hitchens’ terminal cancer the avenging hand of God! That’s hazardous speculation. Many good and holy people have been afflicted with aggressive and unforgiving forms of terminal disease. Is his cancer somehow within God’s providence? Has God permitted it? In the larger picture, God 'permits' everything that happens.
Believe it or believe it not, there are many people praying for Mr. Hitchens. Some are praying for his conversion to Christianity, others that he will face the inevitable with courage and peace. Christ tells us in the gospel to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. Hitchens may be public enemy number one of Christianity today but, whether he believes it or not, he is a child of God, created in love and destined for eternal life.
Hitchens and his ‘horsemen’ need to be opposed. They are running riot with their anti-religion, and need to be met with vigorous argumentation. So far, the Catholic Church is doing very little to defend itself against them. The Vatican announced in May that a series of debates are being planned to take place in Paris next year between ‘noble’ atheists, agnostics and top notch Catholic theologians. By Vatican order, Mr. Hitchens and Mr. Dawkins are to be excluded. In Vatican eyes, they are ‘militant atheists with high public profiles who meet the truth with irony and sarcasm’ - quoted from the Vatican announcement of the debate. Wouldn’t you think that our Church leaders would jump at the chance to talk in public to well known atheists, people with high public profiles…..? Chicken?
PASTOR EMERITUS
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
WHEN TRAGEDY STRIKES
WHEN TRAGEDY STRIKES
August 10th 2010
Tragedy often strikes like lightning, unexpectedly, out of the blue. A loved one, alive and well yesterday, is horribly wrenched from our tender embrace today, never to be seen again in this world. Near and dear loved ones are left bereft of consolation, not knowing where to turn.
All of us have experienced the sudden and unexpected death of a loved one – accident, stroke, heart attack, homicide, suicide, military….. ‘This cannot be happening…. It’s not for real…. Is this a bad dream?’ The heart cries out for help as the human system goes into a kind of denial. Words of consolation sound shallow and meaningless.
Loved ones ask, ‘Why are little children being left without their Mom or Dad?’ ‘Why does a mother have to bear the loss of her child?’ The religious mind questions the goodness of God and asks, ‘Why did God allow this? Is God really fair and just, or is he a cruel God? Why should I continue to worship a God who allows this to happen?’
While a storm rages, words about sunshine and blue skies are no help. You just have to sit out a storm, wait for it to be over, and try to get beyond it. Tragedy ignites a storm in the heart which has to be waited out. It is very difficult to wait. There’s a larger picture which cannot be seen when tragedy strikes.
One day, while on his way to Jerusalem, Jesus received a message that his friend, Lazarus, was dying. Strange to say, Jesus took his time and arrived four days after Lazarus had been dead and buried. The family was in shock, and Jesus was reprimanded for not coming in time to prevent his death. His first reaction was to sit and weep by Lazarus’ tomb. He had no answers.
The family and friends of someone who dies can only sit and weep, like Jesus. I believe that Jesus will sit and weep with them, but in disguise. That is the appropriate response to the death of a loved one. God-talk will make little or no sense to most people in this situation. Not yet. Presence will be everything.
Pastor Emeritus
August 10th 2010
Tragedy often strikes like lightning, unexpectedly, out of the blue. A loved one, alive and well yesterday, is horribly wrenched from our tender embrace today, never to be seen again in this world. Near and dear loved ones are left bereft of consolation, not knowing where to turn.
All of us have experienced the sudden and unexpected death of a loved one – accident, stroke, heart attack, homicide, suicide, military….. ‘This cannot be happening…. It’s not for real…. Is this a bad dream?’ The heart cries out for help as the human system goes into a kind of denial. Words of consolation sound shallow and meaningless.
Loved ones ask, ‘Why are little children being left without their Mom or Dad?’ ‘Why does a mother have to bear the loss of her child?’ The religious mind questions the goodness of God and asks, ‘Why did God allow this? Is God really fair and just, or is he a cruel God? Why should I continue to worship a God who allows this to happen?’
While a storm rages, words about sunshine and blue skies are no help. You just have to sit out a storm, wait for it to be over, and try to get beyond it. Tragedy ignites a storm in the heart which has to be waited out. It is very difficult to wait. There’s a larger picture which cannot be seen when tragedy strikes.
One day, while on his way to Jerusalem, Jesus received a message that his friend, Lazarus, was dying. Strange to say, Jesus took his time and arrived four days after Lazarus had been dead and buried. The family was in shock, and Jesus was reprimanded for not coming in time to prevent his death. His first reaction was to sit and weep by Lazarus’ tomb. He had no answers.
The family and friends of someone who dies can only sit and weep, like Jesus. I believe that Jesus will sit and weep with them, but in disguise. That is the appropriate response to the death of a loved one. God-talk will make little or no sense to most people in this situation. Not yet. Presence will be everything.
Pastor Emeritus
Monday, August 9, 2010
MARY’S BODILY ASSUMPTION
MARY’S BODILY ASSUMPTION
August 15th
A lively sense of the Blessed Virgin has characterized the Catholics from the beginning. In the fifth century, Christians took to the streets to protest those who had a problem accepting Mary’s new title as ‘Mother of God.’ This sensitivity to the Vitgin has taken many different forms over the millenia. As a boy growing up in the Ireland of the nineteen forties and fifties, the family Rosary was ‘de riguer’ in our home. Absence from this pious gathering in the family room after the evening meal was frowned upon.
The practice of the family rosary began to wane in the nineteen sixties, and has all but disappeared today. There are groups like the Legion of Mary that still foster fervent devotion to the Mother of God. The Second Vatican Council spoke of Mary as ‘Mother of the Church,’ and in its wake only two major feasts of Mary remain as holy days of obligation, the Immaculate Conception and the Assumption.
Today, the Church celebrates Mary being taken up, body and soul, to heaven. The feast is meant to reflect the resurrection of Jesus, to offer us the resurrection in a more human-feminine form, much like the moon and the stars reflect to us at night the light of the hidden sun. She is, in the words of the first reading, ‘the woman clothed with the sun….’
St. Paul reminds us in the second reading that ‘Christ has been raised from the dead….. Christ the firstfruits; then those who belong to him.’ This celebration, coming toward the end of summer vacation each year, brings us back to the basics of who we are as Christians, people who are bathed in the hope and power of the Risen Christ. We are people of passion and vision; a vision that allows us to see the face of Christ disguised in every human being, and the passion to go out and give new hope and purpose to our world.
We believe Mary was raised body and soul, as Jesus was raised in his flesh before her. The Church seems to want to proclaim from the house-tops the significance of the human body, destined to be raised in glory. From the beginning, certain voices proclaimed the negativity of the human body, from Platonic dualism, to Manicheeism, to certain forms of latter day Puritanism. It’s significant that the Catholic Church offers incense as a mark of respect over the moral remains of the deceased at the end of a funeral Mass.
Here is the paradox of the Sistine Chapel paintings, now happily restored to their original splendor. Many visitors to the Vatican are at a loss to explain the dramatic display of naked bodies that adorn the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, that sacred sanctuary where consistories of Cardinals presided over by the Pope are held, and where the successors of St. Peter have been elected from time immorial! The splendid Da Vinci creation by God of the magnificent naked Adam that dominates one end of the chapel ceiling takes your breath away! It is interesting in this context that sociologist Andrew Greely concluded that, of all the Christian denominations, Catholics enjoyed the good things of life the best! A gut level sense that our bodies are meant to be enjoyed in this life as in the next?
Pastor Emeritus
August 15th
A lively sense of the Blessed Virgin has characterized the Catholics from the beginning. In the fifth century, Christians took to the streets to protest those who had a problem accepting Mary’s new title as ‘Mother of God.’ This sensitivity to the Vitgin has taken many different forms over the millenia. As a boy growing up in the Ireland of the nineteen forties and fifties, the family Rosary was ‘de riguer’ in our home. Absence from this pious gathering in the family room after the evening meal was frowned upon.
The practice of the family rosary began to wane in the nineteen sixties, and has all but disappeared today. There are groups like the Legion of Mary that still foster fervent devotion to the Mother of God. The Second Vatican Council spoke of Mary as ‘Mother of the Church,’ and in its wake only two major feasts of Mary remain as holy days of obligation, the Immaculate Conception and the Assumption.
Today, the Church celebrates Mary being taken up, body and soul, to heaven. The feast is meant to reflect the resurrection of Jesus, to offer us the resurrection in a more human-feminine form, much like the moon and the stars reflect to us at night the light of the hidden sun. She is, in the words of the first reading, ‘the woman clothed with the sun….’
St. Paul reminds us in the second reading that ‘Christ has been raised from the dead….. Christ the firstfruits; then those who belong to him.’ This celebration, coming toward the end of summer vacation each year, brings us back to the basics of who we are as Christians, people who are bathed in the hope and power of the Risen Christ. We are people of passion and vision; a vision that allows us to see the face of Christ disguised in every human being, and the passion to go out and give new hope and purpose to our world.
We believe Mary was raised body and soul, as Jesus was raised in his flesh before her. The Church seems to want to proclaim from the house-tops the significance of the human body, destined to be raised in glory. From the beginning, certain voices proclaimed the negativity of the human body, from Platonic dualism, to Manicheeism, to certain forms of latter day Puritanism. It’s significant that the Catholic Church offers incense as a mark of respect over the moral remains of the deceased at the end of a funeral Mass.
Here is the paradox of the Sistine Chapel paintings, now happily restored to their original splendor. Many visitors to the Vatican are at a loss to explain the dramatic display of naked bodies that adorn the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, that sacred sanctuary where consistories of Cardinals presided over by the Pope are held, and where the successors of St. Peter have been elected from time immorial! The splendid Da Vinci creation by God of the magnificent naked Adam that dominates one end of the chapel ceiling takes your breath away! It is interesting in this context that sociologist Andrew Greely concluded that, of all the Christian denominations, Catholics enjoyed the good things of life the best! A gut level sense that our bodies are meant to be enjoyed in this life as in the next?
Pastor Emeritus
Monday, August 2, 2010
Escape to Faith
Escape to Faith
Reflection for August 8th 2010
Our second reading at Mass today, from the Letter to the Hebrews, is about faith: ‘Faith is the realization of what is hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.’ I want to say something here about the journey to faith, rather than faith itself. Some of our problems with faith / trust are due to various fears and a lack of freedom of heart and soul which get in the way. As Shakespeare says in Hamlet, ‘The readiness is all.’
While tidying up old files recently, I came across some notes from a visit I made a few years ago to the lovely German town of Barth, site of the infamous Stalag Luft I of World War II, from which prisoners of war risked everything to escape.
It occurred to me as I paged through these notes, that the journey towards Christian faith is more like an escape story than a matter of believing in teachings, dogmas and historical facts. Over my life as a priest, I have noticed that people who want to talk about religion are often looking for space to talk about their own journey and struggle. Often they are struggling to escape from some difficult-to-identify inner bond.
Augustine, one of Christianity’s greatest converts and brains, struggled for years to be free from a false level of his self: ‘Lord, give me chastity, but not yet.’ Ignatius of Loyola, the first Jesuit, bedridden for months after being wounded in battle, struggled to be free from the fantasy of a future life at court, so he could embrace the gospel of Christ.
Augustine and Ignatius struggled to escape from the prison of a false and immature self through finding a neglected but truer self within themselves. Stories of prisoner-of-war escapees nearly always had a couple of men who preferred not to take the risk, yielding to the temptation to stay put and be safe, rather than put their lives on the line in a bid to be free.
The Trappist monk and writer of the mid 20th century, Thomas Merton, wrote, ‘Every one of us is shadowed by an illusory person…a false self….. The way to find the real world is not merely to measure and observe what is outside us, but to discover our own inner ground…in my deepest self.’
The late Fr. John Main, founder of the Christian Meditation Movement, once said: ‘Most of us have to get in touch with ourselves first, to get into a full relationship with ourselves before we can turn openly to our relationship with God.’
A few years ago, Fr. Michael Paul Gallagher S.J. offered a workshop at the Anaheim Congress on the journey towards faith. He identified three steps along the way: First, the awareness that there’s an alternation of moods within every one of us is an essential step towards freedom. Second, experiencing this contrast, and owning it, can help us recognize a continual struggle between a true and false self. Third, this self-learning bears fruit when we obey a golden rule: good decisions come from the true self; bad decisions spring from the pressures and panics of the false self; never make a decision when ‘down.’
Faith is like waking up to the fact that we do not have to stay in prison.
PASTOR EMERITUS
Reflection for August 8th 2010
Our second reading at Mass today, from the Letter to the Hebrews, is about faith: ‘Faith is the realization of what is hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.’ I want to say something here about the journey to faith, rather than faith itself. Some of our problems with faith / trust are due to various fears and a lack of freedom of heart and soul which get in the way. As Shakespeare says in Hamlet, ‘The readiness is all.’
While tidying up old files recently, I came across some notes from a visit I made a few years ago to the lovely German town of Barth, site of the infamous Stalag Luft I of World War II, from which prisoners of war risked everything to escape.
It occurred to me as I paged through these notes, that the journey towards Christian faith is more like an escape story than a matter of believing in teachings, dogmas and historical facts. Over my life as a priest, I have noticed that people who want to talk about religion are often looking for space to talk about their own journey and struggle. Often they are struggling to escape from some difficult-to-identify inner bond.
Augustine, one of Christianity’s greatest converts and brains, struggled for years to be free from a false level of his self: ‘Lord, give me chastity, but not yet.’ Ignatius of Loyola, the first Jesuit, bedridden for months after being wounded in battle, struggled to be free from the fantasy of a future life at court, so he could embrace the gospel of Christ.
Augustine and Ignatius struggled to escape from the prison of a false and immature self through finding a neglected but truer self within themselves. Stories of prisoner-of-war escapees nearly always had a couple of men who preferred not to take the risk, yielding to the temptation to stay put and be safe, rather than put their lives on the line in a bid to be free.
The Trappist monk and writer of the mid 20th century, Thomas Merton, wrote, ‘Every one of us is shadowed by an illusory person…a false self….. The way to find the real world is not merely to measure and observe what is outside us, but to discover our own inner ground…in my deepest self.’
The late Fr. John Main, founder of the Christian Meditation Movement, once said: ‘Most of us have to get in touch with ourselves first, to get into a full relationship with ourselves before we can turn openly to our relationship with God.’
A few years ago, Fr. Michael Paul Gallagher S.J. offered a workshop at the Anaheim Congress on the journey towards faith. He identified three steps along the way: First, the awareness that there’s an alternation of moods within every one of us is an essential step towards freedom. Second, experiencing this contrast, and owning it, can help us recognize a continual struggle between a true and false self. Third, this self-learning bears fruit when we obey a golden rule: good decisions come from the true self; bad decisions spring from the pressures and panics of the false self; never make a decision when ‘down.’
Faith is like waking up to the fact that we do not have to stay in prison.
PASTOR EMERITUS
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