One of the highlights of my year comes each January when I get to sit down with my archbishop, along with the other newly ordained priests of this diocese, talk about concerns, pray, and eat. It happened yesterday and it truly is a moment of grace for me. Archbishop Hanus' sense of humor and hospitality make it easy for hours to drift by in what seems more like a few moments. I especially appreciate how candid my brother newly ordained priests can be and how the Archbishop responds. He never makes promises that he knows he can't keep. He isn't going to say that all our assignments are perfect, because no assignment is perfect. But, if we he is going to listen to us, which is a reminder that he knows what we are going through and empathizes with us. It's hard for us to understand that "this too shall pass."
But, there are times when I wish I would be able to keep quiet and not speak. I remember one of the evaluations at St. Paul Seminary saying that I surely know how to put his foot in his mouth. That was no less true yesterday than it was four years ago. I brought up a topic that led the archbishop to ask me about his seal and I had to admit that I probably couldn't pick it out of a line up. I figured that it was more important to be honest than it was to lie. But, of course, the first thing I did when I got back was look up the Archbishop's seal!
Friday, January 13, 2006
Sunday, January 08, 2006
The value of doubt
Where is the newborn king of the Jews? This question, posed by the magi in our gospel today, is in many ways, a fitting way for us to reflect on as we wrap up the Christmas season. While, on the surface, it seems rather mundane and somewhat antiquated, perhaps even a childish question, it is, I believe, the most important question of Christianity today. Basically, the magi wonder what we believe. Amidst all of these celebrations of Jesus’ birth, who of us has ever sat down with the birthday boy and had cake and ice cream with him? Oh, you may be like my sister who does bake a cake and sing happy birthday with her kids on Christmas, but Jesus wasn't there to the extent that he enjoyed the marble cake. So, where is the newborn king of the Jews?
I was recently reading a book by Pope Benedict XVI, written when he was simply known as Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, entitled Introduction to Christianity, which posed the question this way. He cited a story by Jewish theologian Martin Buber that described an encounter between a very learned man and the Rabbi of Berditchev. One Day, the intelligen man "paid a visit to (the rabbi) in order to argue, as was his custom, with him...and to shatter his old-fashioned proofs of the truth of his faith. When he entered the Rabbi's room, he found him walking up and down with a book in his hand, rapt in thought. The Rabbi paid no attention to the new arrival. Suddenly he stopped, looked at him fleetingly, and said, ‘But perhaps it is true after all.’ The scholar tried in vain to collect himself—his knees trembled, so terrible was the Rabbi to behold and so terrible his simple utterance to hear. But (eventually the) Rabbi…turned to face him and spoke quite calmly: ‘My son, the great scholars of the Torah with whom you have argued wasted their words on you; as you departed you laughed at them. They were unable to lay God and his Kingdom on the table before you, and neither can I. But think, my son, perhaps it is true.’” According to the Cardinal-turned-pope the “perhaps” turns both ways. “…both the believer and the unbeliever share, each in his own way, doubt and belief...” This doubt necessarily connects believer and unbeliever in a struggle for understanding. For our present pope, then, the real challenge to faith is not doubt but when we abandon the search for faith and become complacent. In some ways, our faith becomes too small and we find it too easy to replace the mysteriousness of God with an explanation of ourselves, as though we were making God in our own image and likeness.
It seems to me, this is at the heart of the irony of today’s gospel. There are, basically, three characters the play some kind of role. Working backwards, there are the chief priests and the scribes of the people. These people are the intellectuals of Jerusalem that know the truths of our elder brothers and sisters in the faith. When asked where the messiah would appear, they pass along the correct information to Herod. Some people think that their fault was that they should have known that Herod would have evil intentions toward the messiah, as though they could have been mind readers to know that this man who had done so much to repair the temple would be so afraid of the messiah. No, the real fault that these people have is that, even though they know the information, they don’t let it affect them. In other words, they knew that the messiah was to be born in Bethlehem but where are they? In Jerusalem! They have put their faith in the messiah to rest and no longer grapple with it.
Then there’s our second character, Herod, who is, in some ways, the successor of David, though I doubt most Jews would have thought him so. He has only one way of observing the world; through power and authority. When he hears that a new king of the Jews, a successor of David, was born he, naturally, cannot comprehend that the kind of king that this would be was not in worldly power but a king that takes away the sins of the world and leads us to everlasting life. This eventually leads him to a blood-lust campaign to destroy all the newborns in Bethlehem. His need for power takes away any fear of God that he may have felt.
Lastly, we hear of an unnamed number of magi carrying three gifts for the newborn king. These astrologers had no way of knowing anything about the descendant of David but they were open to whatever light God put in the sky. This openness leads them to become the first gentiles to see, believe and give thanks.
We, too, are called to be gentiles who see, believe, give thanks, and continue to follow the star. We must grapple with the realities of our faith and never become so complacent that we fail to adhere to God’s call to follow a new path. There are many things that are a part of this path that are easily enough written off and ignored, like the need to fast for an hour before coming to communion, the need to give to the poorest among us, or the need to love our enemies. God’s call is often shrouded in mystery and is not easily known. It not only makes us uncomfortable but is easier to turn aside from. The challenge we feel is when we hear God's call is…perhaps it is true.
I was recently reading a book by Pope Benedict XVI, written when he was simply known as Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, entitled Introduction to Christianity, which posed the question this way. He cited a story by Jewish theologian Martin Buber that described an encounter between a very learned man and the Rabbi of Berditchev. One Day, the intelligen man "paid a visit to (the rabbi) in order to argue, as was his custom, with him...and to shatter his old-fashioned proofs of the truth of his faith. When he entered the Rabbi's room, he found him walking up and down with a book in his hand, rapt in thought. The Rabbi paid no attention to the new arrival. Suddenly he stopped, looked at him fleetingly, and said, ‘But perhaps it is true after all.’ The scholar tried in vain to collect himself—his knees trembled, so terrible was the Rabbi to behold and so terrible his simple utterance to hear. But (eventually the) Rabbi…turned to face him and spoke quite calmly: ‘My son, the great scholars of the Torah with whom you have argued wasted their words on you; as you departed you laughed at them. They were unable to lay God and his Kingdom on the table before you, and neither can I. But think, my son, perhaps it is true.’” According to the Cardinal-turned-pope the “perhaps” turns both ways. “…both the believer and the unbeliever share, each in his own way, doubt and belief...” This doubt necessarily connects believer and unbeliever in a struggle for understanding. For our present pope, then, the real challenge to faith is not doubt but when we abandon the search for faith and become complacent. In some ways, our faith becomes too small and we find it too easy to replace the mysteriousness of God with an explanation of ourselves, as though we were making God in our own image and likeness.
It seems to me, this is at the heart of the irony of today’s gospel. There are, basically, three characters the play some kind of role. Working backwards, there are the chief priests and the scribes of the people. These people are the intellectuals of Jerusalem that know the truths of our elder brothers and sisters in the faith. When asked where the messiah would appear, they pass along the correct information to Herod. Some people think that their fault was that they should have known that Herod would have evil intentions toward the messiah, as though they could have been mind readers to know that this man who had done so much to repair the temple would be so afraid of the messiah. No, the real fault that these people have is that, even though they know the information, they don’t let it affect them. In other words, they knew that the messiah was to be born in Bethlehem but where are they? In Jerusalem! They have put their faith in the messiah to rest and no longer grapple with it.
Then there’s our second character, Herod, who is, in some ways, the successor of David, though I doubt most Jews would have thought him so. He has only one way of observing the world; through power and authority. When he hears that a new king of the Jews, a successor of David, was born he, naturally, cannot comprehend that the kind of king that this would be was not in worldly power but a king that takes away the sins of the world and leads us to everlasting life. This eventually leads him to a blood-lust campaign to destroy all the newborns in Bethlehem. His need for power takes away any fear of God that he may have felt.
Lastly, we hear of an unnamed number of magi carrying three gifts for the newborn king. These astrologers had no way of knowing anything about the descendant of David but they were open to whatever light God put in the sky. This openness leads them to become the first gentiles to see, believe and give thanks.
We, too, are called to be gentiles who see, believe, give thanks, and continue to follow the star. We must grapple with the realities of our faith and never become so complacent that we fail to adhere to God’s call to follow a new path. There are many things that are a part of this path that are easily enough written off and ignored, like the need to fast for an hour before coming to communion, the need to give to the poorest among us, or the need to love our enemies. God’s call is often shrouded in mystery and is not easily known. It not only makes us uncomfortable but is easier to turn aside from. The challenge we feel is when we hear God's call is…perhaps it is true.
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