Easter Sunday: Spe Salvi part 3 In Hope we were saved

Dear Beloved in Christ

This past November, Pope Benedict XVI released his second encyclical entitled “Spe Salvi.” This encyclical, based on hope, has guided my reflections for much of lent and I was able to share some of the substance of that reflection (here) with the people of Sts. Peter and Paul in Gilbert during the Holy Thursday and Good Friday liturgies. I couldn’t help but notice a rather obvious connection with today’s readings and this much needed encyclical on hope. Both today’s gospel and first reading invite us into an encounter with the living Christ, the one who is truly risen from death, belief in God isn’t merely following a set of prescribed rules and procedures or memorizing a book but is closer to introducing ourselves and getting to know a person. Being without Christ and, therefore, without hope, is the biblical statement of being without God. So, as Christians, it is our responsibility to reach out to others in hope so that they may have an eternal reward. This is what gives our present meaning, after all; knowing that our future is certain as a positive reality. This is why the gospel is not just an intellectual exercise but something that should move our heart. Pope Benedict uses an expression to describe what this type of faith should involve. He says the gospel is “not only ‘informative’ but ‘performative.’ “That means: the gospel is not merely a communication of things that can be known – it is one that makes things happen and is life changing.”

The point the Pope is making is very significant. He is saying that, even though salvation was done solely through the activity of Jesus Christ on the cross, that salvation is dead if it does not move us from being informative to performative, from passive followers to active witnesses. It needs to affect us each day of our lives and the way this evangelical hope affects us is by assuring us of redemption in coming to know God through Christ and compelling us to reach out to others to help them come to know him as well.

To illustrate this point, I’d like to quote, in full, the Pope’s description of the life of someone who found hope in the midst of what was, otherwise, a horrific life.

“St. Josephine Bakhita was canonized by Pope John Paul II. She was born around 1869 in Darfur in Sudan. At the age of nine, she was kidnapped by slave-traders, beaten till she bled, and sold five times in the slave-markets of Sudan. Eventually she found herself working as a slave for the mother and the wife of a general, and there she was flogged every day till she bled; as a result of this she bore 144 scars throughout her life. Finally, in 1882, she was bought by an Italian merchant, who eventually returned to Italy. Here, after the terrifying “masters” who had owned her up to that point, Bakhita came to know a totally different kind of “master”—in Venetian dialect, which she was now learning, she used the name “paron” for the living God, the God of Jesus Christ. Up to that time she had known only masters who despised and maltreated her, or at best, considered her a useful slave. Now, however, she heard that there is a “paron” above all masters, the Lord of all lords, and that this Lord is good, goodness in person. She came to know that this Lord even knew her, that he had created her—that he actually loved her. She too was loved, and by none other than the supreme “Paron”, before whom all other masters are themselves no more than lowly servants. She was known and loved and she was awaited. What is more, this master had himself accepted the destiny of being flogged and now he was waiting for her “at the Father's right hand”. Now she had “hope” —no longer simply the modest hope of finding masters who would be less cruel, but the great hope: “I am definitively loved and whatever happens to me—I am awaited by this Love. And so my life is good.” Through the knowledge of this hope she was “redeemed”, no longer a slave, but a free child of God. She understood what Paul meant when he reminded the Ephesians that previously they were without hope and without God in the world—without hope because without God. Hence, when she was about to be taken back to Sudan, Bakhita refused; she did not wish to be separated again from her “Paron”. On 9 January 1890, she was baptized and confirmed and received her first Holy Communion from the hands of the Patriarch of Venice. On 8 December 1896, in Verona, she took her vows in the Congregation of the Canossian Sisters and from that time onwards…she made several journeys round Italy in order to promote the missions: the liberation that she had received through her encounter with the God of Jesus Christ, she felt she had to extend, it had to be handed on to others, to the greatest possible number of people. The hope born in her which had “redeemed” her she could not keep to herself; this hope had to reach many, to reach everybody.

Josephine Bakhita’s story is an excellent example of Christian hope. Christian hope is not based upon creating the city of God in our time, regardless of what some song silly says in our hymnal, we can’t build the city of God to turn our tears into dancing. This world still feels the effects of the sin of our first parents and the promises it offers to us are always illusory. Houses collapse. Gunmen wander into schools and residence halls and kill people. Madmen advocate death to zealous followers. On this Easter Sunday, we, Christians, feel hope in our encounter with Christ who, alone, can deliver us from the frustrations we feel in this world to the greatness of eternal life. And may this encounter that we feel most acutely at this mass lead us to go forth and spread the gospel of hope. Alleluia! Alleluia.

Good Friday: Spe Salvi part 2: We hope for life after death.

Dearly Beloved in Christ

Last night, we began this three day celebration with Holy Thursday, the mass of the Lord’s Supper. I used the homily at that mass as an opportunity to begin reflecting on the Pope’s latest encyclical on hope. Tonight, I continue reflecting on that encyclical in the light of our present celebration of Good Friday.

The title of this encyclical is “Spe Salvi”, which is taken from the first few words of the Latin original “Spe salvi facti sumus”, which is translated as “in hope we were saved." The particular quote comes from Paul’s letter to the Romans. The full quote in English is, “We know that all creation is groaning in labor pains even until now; and not only that, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, we also groan within ourselves as we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in hope we were saved. Now hope that sees for itself is not hope. For who hopes for what one sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait with endurance.” The pope points out that redemption is always based upon hope, that the only way of living life to it’s fullest in the present is by having certainty of a goal that is worthy of the journey to receive it. One’s mind may go towards the book of JRR Tolkien called The Lord of the Rings. As Frodo is preparing to leave the safety of his home in the shire, he imagines that he will be forced to take the journey alone without the benefit of his friends Sam, Pippin, and Merry. Tolkien writes,

‘No! I could not!’ Frodo said to himself. ‘it is one thing to take my young friends walking over the Shire with me, until we are hungry and weary, and food and bed are sweet. To take them into exile, where hunger and weariness may have no cure, is quite another – even if they are willing to come. The inheritance is mine alone. I don’t think I ought even to take Sam.’ He looked at Sam Gamgee, and discovered that Sam was watching him.
‘Well, Sam!’ he said. ‘What about it? I am leaving the Shrire as soon as ever I can – in face I have made up my mind now not even to wait a day at crickhollow, if it can be helped.’
‘Very good, sir!’
‘You still mean to come with me?’
‘I do”
‘It is going to be very dangerous, Sam. It is already dangerous. Most likely neither of us will come back.’
‘If you don’t come back, sir, then I shan’t, that’s certain.’ Said Sam…I am going with you, if you climb to the moon and if any of those black riders try to stop you, they’ll have Sam Gamgee to reckon with, I said.”[1]

What is it that makes even the meek and mild among us able to carry out amazing acts of bravery such as being willing to follow a friend into death but belief in the importance of the final outcome? This type of belief is the substance of the hope on which Christians await their redemption. During this liturgy, we often focus on the cross and, while we must never seen in this cross anything less than an instrument of cruel torture and death, we must also keep in mind the hope that radiates from this cross of a man who, though sinless, was willing to give his life to wipe away our sins.

[1] Tolkien, J.R.R. The Fellowship of the Ring. Houghton-Miffling publishers Boston, MA. c.1987 from Book one Chapter 3: Three is company

Holy Thursday and Spe Salvi part one community

Dearly Beloved in Christ

We gather on this Holy Thursday evening to reflect on the meaning of communion, both the communion we receive each Sunday and the communion we feel when we gather as the body of Christ. This past Tuesday, the priests of this Archdiocese gathered with our Archbishop to celebrate this chrism mass, the mass where the holy oils are blessed which will be presented tonight when the gifts are brought forward. During his homily the pope used part of Pope Benedicts encyclical letter on hope that was released on November 30 of last year. I thought it would, therefore, be appropriate for us to spend our triduum reflecting on this encyclical and draw some life principles from it. One of the most surprising aspects of this encyclical is how applicable it is.

Tonight, our readings focus us on community and communion. The pope, in this encyclical, asks at one point if Christian hope is individualistic. We face this question, often, from our evangelical brothers and sisters when they ask us if we know that Christ is our personal Lord and savior. While the Pope doesn’t completely put aside the idea of personal salvation, he definitely reshapes the entire question. Using the theologian Henri de Lubac’s research into salvation, he points out that salvation has always been considered a “social” reality.” In other words, sin is what ordinarily drives us into a kind of personalism whereas redemption is the reestablishment of the person to unity with Christ and, thus, unity with the church. Think of the man whose sin is internet pornography. All through the day, the person is trying to be alone in order to indulge in the perversity of his sin. The frustration of his sin is when people do not allow him to have personal time to be alone.

So, in some ways, islation is the antithesis of salvation. So, how did we get things so turned around as to believe that holiness was something done in isolation whereas sin takes place in community? According to the Pope, this began with Francis Bacon who saw redemption as a restoration of the lost “paradise.” This restoration is done not in faith but a link between science and praxis. In other words, use of the scientific method. A student of Bacon believes that a solution is out there, it just hasn’t been found yet. We need experimental science to free us from all the world’s problems so that we can return to the redeemed state of Eden. This means that faith turns from the substance of hope into a faith in progress; things are getting better. I recently had a conversation with a student at Iowa State who was a student of Francis Bacon. He specifically asked about miracles and the substance of miracles. What if miracles are just unexplained answers to questions. In other words, what if, in the future, we find some kind of mud that actually cures diseases of the eyes when it is mixed with spittle. And, what if we find that this mud is only located in the Middle East around the Sea of Galilee. Even if we don’t find it in the future, who’s to say that it wasn’t present at the time of Christ. I had a certain sympathy for this kid because it seems like the logical step after a firm faith in the progress of science. The answer is out there, you just have to find it. There are two critical components to this view of progress; reason and freedom. The Pope says, “Reason and freedom seem to guarantee by themselves, by virtue of their intrinsic goodness, a new and perfect human community. The two key concepts of “reason” and “freedom”, however, were tacitly interpreted as being in conflict with the shackles of faith and of the Church as well as those of the political structures of the period.” In other words, you can either freely believe in reason or believe in the oppressive structures of the church.

Immanuel Kant changed the focus from a largely scientific atheism into a theological personalism by believing that the end result of this progress was the kingdom of God. Kant, therefore, pitted ecclesiastical faith (or the faith of the church) against a pure religious faith (a personal faith). Obviously, Kant saw that a pure religious faith is superior to the faith of church because it is personal and not encumbered with the communal. Kant even went so far as to intimate that Christianity could be so not worthy of love that God could reject it and allow for the brief reign of the Anti-Christ, a not so shrouded jab at the papacy.

At this point in the conversation, Pope Benedict advocates that, rather than make the mistake of Kant by pitting individual faith above the faith of the church, we need to have a dialogue. We need to help clarify what progress is: name that technological and scientific progress can be morally repugnant. To quote the document, “If technical progress is not matched by corresponding progress in man's ethical formation, in man's inner growth then it is not progress at all, but a threat for man and for the world.” We need to help clarify what reason and hope are. Reason is only reasonable if it is not based entirely upon our own experience. Reason needs to move past human experience in order to encompass all that is. And freedom needs to be understood less as my personal will and more in the convergence of wills. Still, this convergence cannot succeed unless it has a “common intrinsic criterion of measurement” as its foundation. In other words, freedom is in need of a moral compass for it to really free us.

Tomorrow, Good Friday, we will spend some time reflecting on what it is in particular that we are hoping in. And finally, on Easter Sunday, we will feel the hope of the resurrection in the person of an African slave.

Getting ready for one liturgy in three days

It's Triduum in the catholic church, a three day event in which we remember the giving over of the Lord's supper, the death of Christ, and the resurrection that sets us free.

The "traditional" way the Triduum begins is with the mass of blessing oils or the chrism mass. Most diocese are wise in moving this mass, including the Archbishop of Dubuque who celebrates this liturgy on Tuesday of this Holy Week. The Archbishop focused his homily on the Pope's latest document entitled "Spe Salvi". The focus of the document is on Christian hope and it gave me the inspiration to use it when I prepare my homilies for the next three days. So, prepare yourselves for homilies that incorporate the readings and are connected to Hope.

Please pray for the students at UNI

After the tragic events at Northern Illinois University, the University of Northern Iowa had it's own gun scare. I'm sure it feels odd locking down a building because a kid in 150 miles away sent threatening text messages. But, it's better safe than sorry and It had to ensure the safety of students. But, keep them in your prayers since there will, undoubtedly, be nay sayers.

http://www.desmoinesregister.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080312/NEWS/80312027/1002/NEWS01

I long for the days...

This year, Iowa State University has decided to have spring break during Holy Week. I didn't know what it would mean for me but, basically, I haven't had a vacation since January and won't get one until May. And, unfortunately, all too often, I've had to "skip" my day off because of obligations.

I was licking my wounds on Tuesday, the day that I knew I would work solid for 12 hours, when I got a rather strange call. The pastor of the church in Madrid, Iowa (prounounced with the emphasis on the first syllable) asked me to take a funeral for him on Saturday. He's preaching at a funeral for a brother priest of his diocese. Without looking at my calendar, I immediately said, "Absolutely". Thankfully, I had nothing going on but I remember when my schedule was loose enough that I could make those commitments without worrying about it. Now, however, I would scarcely ever make an appointment without checking my calendar and the parish calendar. I wish I had flexibility in my schedule again. The good thing is that the semester is going to quickly come to an end and then I'll have some time to rest before wedding season picks up. I may even be able to go camping.

And then the stress will be gone...I long for those days.

A beautiful blog with great pictures and posts

In case you don't read the comments on my blog, you may not know about this wonderfully supportive blog from a woman who calls herself Easter A. It's worth visiting and spending some time reading and looking at what she has to write. And let's hope her son continues to feel the passion towards the church and priesthood when he's older that he does now.

http://atributetoourpriests.blogspot.com/

We are Lazarus

Dearly Beloved in Christ

As we draw closer to the great celebration of Triduum; Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday, you may notice that the readings are getting longer to prepare us for the reading of the passion, next week at Palm Sunday. Today’s rather lengthy reading leaves us with the question: Who in the heck in Lazarus? He’s not one of the twelve apostles. His conversion or calling to ministry is not mentioned anywhere in the scriptures. He doesn’t even live in one of the towns often associated with Jesus: Jerusalem, Nazareth, Bethlehem, or Capernaum. He lives two miles away from Jerusalem in a suburb called Bethany, just over the mount of Olives. The only other story that uses the name Lazarus is from the gospel of Luke used for a poor man who lay for years outside a stingy rich man’s house. That, however, is just that, a story. It’s a response to the Pharisees who are sneering at Jesus and his ability to teach authoritatively about the law. It’s possible that Jesus had this man whom he loved in mind as he was telling that story but, as I learned while researching this homily, Lazarus was a common name at the time. It is a shortened form of Eleazar, a name frequently used in the Old Testament, and it means “God Helps.” So, let us ask God to help us understand this man because he seems to come from nowhere and never be mentioned again.

Yet, a second look at the readings today may make us want to turn away from Lazarus and focus, instead, on the disciples. They very well could be the point of the story. They are the ones to whom Jesus thanked God that they could be with him when he awoke the man so that they may have faith. They would, likewise, have known the first reading from the Prophet Ezekiel that assured a previous generation of Israelites that they would know God when sealed graves were opened and when the dead rose. They should have been the first to trust that Jesus knew exactly what he was doing when he said he wanted to go to Jerusalem. But they let fear get in the way of their faith. They reminded Jesus that the Jews had just tried to kill him so it isn’t safe for him to return. But, Jesus knows that this lack of faith will be rewarded when they see the dead man, Lazarus rise. Even Doubting Thomas’s’ comment made in frustration, “Let us also go to die with him” cannot stop Jesus from doing what he needs to do.

But, I don’t think this really a story about the disciples. They fall into the background after Thomas’ comment and aren’t mentioned again. Maybe it’s a story about Martha and Mary, the dead man’s sisters. I imagine he expected Martha’s reaction. You may remember these two from the gospel of Luke. Martha, the hard working nagging older sister, and Mary the gentle, contemplative obedient disciple of Jesus who sat at his feet while Martha wished Jesus would make her help with the chores. When Martha approaches and says, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” he must have been excited to hear her add, “But even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.” There’s hope, in the midst of hopelessness. If Martha can evince faith in the midst of tragedy, then Mary, the contemplative, must likewise be ready for a miracle. So it must have been a real kick in the pants when Mary approached without any hope at all repeating her sister’s past-tense verse, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” and when Martha does want him to remove the stone in front of the cave because of the stench it becomes clear that, with these two, there is so much doubt, so little trust.

No, these two can’t be the real focus of the story, the ones on whom we are to fix our gaze. Perhaps Lazarus’ silence and lack of storyline isn’t meant to indicate unimportance in his role as disciple inasmuch as to invite us to see ourselves as Lazaruses. Lazarus died, just like we all will do. It is an inevitable consequence of living. And, sadly, we know that all of us will one day long to hear the very words Jesus says today, “Lazarus, come out!” (“other names, come out”) “Dennis, come out!” But, when Lazarus does come out, he is bound, both by the burial clothes and the knowledge that he will have to go through this again. He is still in what St. Paul calls the world of the flesh not the realm of the Spirit. Lazarus has to be freed from what binds him in order to live again. We, too, must look into our hearts and find what needs to be freed; jealousy, anger, lust, hatred, all those sins of the flesh that bind us in and to this world and we must be freed by God from them. We are coming to the end of this forty day retreat we call Lent so, I invite each of you to take advantage of the sacrament of reconciliation this week to walk free from what binds us so that we, Lazaruses, can hear Jesus say, “untie him and let him go.”

And I'm back

I've been busy with many things, to paraphrase scripture, and unable to be creative enough to post things for a few days. But, with a retreat, two presentations for 19 hours, and a vacationing pastor all done now, I find myself with the necessary rumination time to actually do this.

I start with a very interesting article found here in the Catholic World News. It reminds me that we need the renewal in the church and in the participation that Vatican II was supposed to be. We may, also, need to shrink a little and get a new generation of Catholics who would see the church with new eyes.

John Paul II used to compare the church to a set of lungs. He used this image to demonstrate why the division between Orthodox and Catholic is based for the One, Holy, catholic, Apostolic church. I think the other thing is that is useful about this image is the idea that, on occasion, the church needs to get smaller, or inhale, before we can exhale and grow.

Another reason to love Iowa State and know that University of Iowa just doesn't get it.

I'm doing research into the tragic events at Northern Illinois University for a presentation I'm doing next week. On it's website, NIU has listed condolences it has received from different colleges and universities regarding the event. See if you are struck by the differences between

the University of Iowa

and

Iowa State University

When I read Iowa's, it seems like the president isn't even offering condolences. It's not until the last sentence that she encourages people to focus on those who were killed. For the first three paragraphs, it's all about how the University of Iowa is facing a challenge. President Geoffroy, on the other hand, has a beautiful paragraph of condolence before he makes a statement regarding how everyone needs to be vigilant to protect students.

It's so great to be part of a University whose president models concern and service before worrying about themselves.

Most Reverend R. Walker Nickless

The lenten message of Bishop Nickless of the Sioux City diocese is really beautiful. One of my favorite passages is...

"To make that choice for grace, for God, over and over again, every moment, is difficult only because we are attached to things which are not God. We treat things which are not God as ends in themselves; in Saint Augustine's classic term, we 'enjoy' them for their own sake. But if we take seriously the life of Christ in us, such that 'it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me,' then the only end to be enjoyed for its own sake is God Himself. This is the Great Commandment, to 'love the Lord your God with your whole mind and heart and soul; and love your neighbor as yourself.'"

Lifting heavy burdens

I was really struck by today's gospel passage from daily mass. Especially this one

“The scribes and the Pharisees
have taken their seat on the chair of Moses.
Therefore, do and observe all things whatsoever they tell you,
but do not follow their example.
For they preach but they do not practice.
They tie up heavy burdens hard to carry
and lay them on people’s shoulders,
but they will not lift a finger to move them.
All their works are performed to be seen.

The part about not laying heavy burdens on people's shoulders reminded me of how often bureaucracy does that very thing. The expectation is that committees make decision but, almost invariably, one person ends up doing almost all the work. I think it's a danger of parish life and we need to make sure that we not just keep making work for people that are already too busy.

Battlestar Galactica episode one

A friend got me addicted to the sci fi television show Battlestar Galactica. (Just to be clear, I'm talking about the next series, not the one from the 70's) and, since I'm supposed to be getting my taxes done but couldn't make it because of the weather, I decided to come home and watch an episode or two on a much needed day off.

I started from the beginning, from an episode that could easily define what it means to be frustrated. The (evil) cylons keep finding the (good guys) colonial fleet and attacking them every 33 minutes. For days, the fleet has to "jump" using to a new location in the hopes that they cylons won't follow. That's how I feel about the weather. Since Thanksgiving, basically, we have been on a five or six day cycle of snow, digging out, and incredibly cold weather. Each day, we seem to have two of those three things. We are either waiting for the storm, digging out for the storm, in the midst of the storm, or freezing. And, right once it looks like we are going to turn a corner, we hear that we will simply have more of the same. It looks like we are going to get above freezing and, when we do, it drops six inches of snow on us and gets freezing.

Where do we find the hope in this? The mundane can become overwhelming! As I read the Pope's latest encyclical, Spe Salvi, I hope to find an answer to that. As I prepare a talk for a group of parishes in northern Iowa, I ask for your prayers. Ask for the intercession of St. Thomas Aquinas that I may see through the mundane times of life to help those parishes find hope.

Opening ourselves to the mountaintop experiences

Most of you are probably unaware that, by law, a priest is given four weeks out of the year to be away from his parish. Three of the four weeks we are vacation, which is why you haven’t seen Fr. Ev for a while. He’s using up all three weeks of vacation in one shot and won’t be back until a week from this coming Friday. Priests need to be able to get away from the rat race of parish work in order to be the servant-leader God has called us to be. So we pray for Fr. Ev’s safety as he is on vacation and that I, your acting pastor, not screw things up too much while he’s gone.

A priest is also expected to spend one week of the year in retreat. I still remember visiting with the Archbishop before I came here to Ames and telling him that I had spent my last retreat alone in my camper praying over the Bread of Life discourse from John’s gospel. He sort of laughed until he realized I was serious. And then this very seriously look came over his face and he said that a young priest needs a directed retreat. From then on, I vowed to find a place where I could have a directed, silent retreat. The strange thing was how God did that for me.

When the campus ministers were planning out the events we were going to facilitate, one of my responsibilities was to take a group of students to a monastery in Northern Missouri called Conception Abbey. I had already taken my directed retreat with my good friend, Fr. Bob Hart in Hawaii, so I assumed this retreat would be more for the students than for me. But, in the course of that week, I found myself changed. Even though I’ve shared this from this pulpit before, I almost didn’t come back at all. I found a depth in my spirituality there that I had never experienced and certainly didn’t expect to experience while playing chaperone to a group of college students. I found quiet and peace and, in the process, found a new depth in my relationship to God.

That’s what I find so believable about this celebration of the transfiguration. Jesus takes his inner sanctum, the three leaders among the leaders, the apostles to the apostles if you will, off by himself on a mountain. I can just imagine Peter, James and John thinking all along the way that this is a waste of time. They could be going to any number of towns to heal their sick, feed their hungry, and preach about the kingdom of God but, instead, they are taking a Sabbath rest on a mountain. What a waste of time. Yet, in the midst of this waste of time, Jesus is transfigured, changed, into his glorified self and we see him with the two Old Testament figures that represent the Law and the Prophets, Moses and Elijah. It is the glorified image of Jesus not destroying the law and the prophets but fulfilling what they said. Peter’s first thought is that he needs to do something, he needs to build them a tent and preserve this glorified experience. But, just like David in the second book of Samuel was refused to build a temple for God, so Jesus forbids Peter from doing building them a structure. Peter had to come to understand what Paul would later articulate to Timothy, “He saved us and called us to a holy life, not according to our works but according to his own design…” Peter, James and John weren’t earning this vision of heavenly glory. They were given it freely by Christ whose cross would alone earn it for them.

Sometimes, I worry that we give the false impression here at St. Thomas Aquinas that you need to earn your salvation through good works. We have numerous social justice activities for both resident and student parishioners and we spend a lot of time talking about doing service projects. I get concerned that people believe that Christ’s victory over salvation is insufficient, that we need to earn the forgiveness of our sins and glorified life offered to us in Christ instead of seeing it freely given to us. Yet, even the most socially just, most good work oriented philanthropist cannot be saved without knowing Christ, without being invited on the mountain to see Christ’s transfigured glory. We work because God has called us to live a life of love. However, this Sunday we are reminded that, just as important as a life of service is a life of prayer. We all need to take time each day to be drawn away from worldly concerns to be caught up with Christ on the mountain. Maybe we can’t find a monastery to do that and there will, undoubtedly, be experiences on retreats that will especially fulfill that need each of us feels. Yet, each day, we need to experience the God that makes us fall prostrate and reveals to us the identity of his son.

Overcoming fear

The crazy thing about fear is that it's often based on exaggeration. We make our fears even more serious than they ever need to be.

I was afraid of celebrating mass in Latin. I took some Latin in school and did alright with the language. I studied classical latin and sang church latin. I learned how to think it with Nero and learned how to pronounce it with Thomas. A group of students wanted to have a Vatican II mass in Latin. They had been learning the mass parts chanted in Latin and wanted to use what they learned. I was leery because I'm not the best "pronouncer" ever. But, I wanted to give it a shot.

Thankfully, I didn't let my fear get in the way. We celebrated it this afternoon and, to a group of young people who never experienced what some call the horrors of the pre-Vatican II liturgy, they spoke the parts in Latin that they have only said in English for years. It was awesome. I was terrified a few times because I'm sure I mangled the Latin and need to practice more but it was just nice to say "Dominus Vobiscum" and hear a resounding "Et cum spiritum tuo."

I think, if we do it again, we'd have to give them a crash course on some of the stuff that we take for granted. Like, Pax tibi instead of peace be with you for the kiss of peace. But, there was no question we were praying, even if part of the prayer was me saying, "God help me say this and understand it even if I don't say it exactly correct."

A short and good message from Alaska

Bishop Donald Kettler of the diocese of Fairbanks has a great lenten message with some great simple suggestions. You can read it here.

Fasting from our disobedience

As I listened to today’s first readings, at first I was tempted to ask: What is it about that darn apple that makes Eve and Adam want it so badly? In other words, why eat from the tree of knowledge when there are so many other trees to eat from. What was wrong with the pear tree or the grapevine that day? Were our first parents just tired of them after eating the same thing every day. But, I don’t think this story is about the diet of our original parents. It’s about their original sin. It’s about cowardice and selfishness in its purest form. It’s about disobedience.
And yet, we may see in this story a kind of relief as well. I mean, the one who is truly at fault is God in all of this. While he gave them a simple rule, he never explained to them why. Despite creating them in the image and likeness of himself, God expected that they not eat from that one tree. I mean, come on. Let’s face it. When we are told not to do something, isn’t that the first thing we want to do. When dad bakes a dozen cookies and leaves them out to cool, if he just says that we shouldn’t eat them and then leaves, how many will be left when he comes back? Ten? Eight? Two? But if dad tells us that he baked them for the church’s bake sale, we might be more cautious about eating them. Now we understand why we shouldn’t eat them. That was, basically, what God didn’t tell Adam Eve. He made them free, giving them the freedom to choose everything but then told them not to do this one thing and then he left. So, the real one at fault is not poor Eve who gets tricked by the erpent. Not poor stupid Adam who seems to do whatever Eve tells him to do. God is at fault for this. If he made them free, he needs to at least tell them why they aren’t allowed to eat from that tree.
And yet, maybe they just weren’t ready to understand the why. Maybe they should have been more satisfied with knowing what the rule was instead of needing to know why the rule existed. Maybe their minds just weren’t ready to understand what it meant to live in a state of original innocence. Contemporary theologians don’t even understand what this life would be like. Just try to imagine living in a world without sin, a world where the mere concept of disobedience has never been invented. It’s easier for us to imagine a world without cars or a world without knowing about the America’s. And even if we think we can understand the concept of the innocent life of our first parents, we’ll never be able to experience it, to live it. How could these hunter/gatherers ever understand that, by keeping them from that tree, he wasn’t depriving them of equality with himself, he was feeing them from the worries and uncertainties of living antagonistically towards himself.
And still, “The woman saw that the tree was good for food, pleasing to the eyes, and desirable for gaining wisdom. So she took some of its fruit and ate it; and she also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it.” They built up the wall of separation between God and humanity and began pushing us farther and farther away from our original creation in innocence when God walked with us. We were alone and lonely. And that, in part, was why God needed to send his Son to be our savior. Just as human beings moved us away from God so a Godly human could be the only one to move us back. Jesus, in the gospel, fully enters into the human experience of loneliness by entering into the desert and fasting for 40 days. And, in one of the most understated lines of scripture, after Jesus comes out of the desert, he was hungry. His loneliness and emptiness is, then, tested by the devil. He asks him three questions in which Jesus is encouraged to use his power to take control. At one point, the devil even quotes sacred scripture in an attempt to trip up the Lord, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down. For it is written: He will command his angels concerning you and with their hands they will support you, lest you dash your foot against a stone.” None of this fools our Lord who keeps his eyes focused on his heavenly father, in the good and the bad, through temptation and suffering, all is “thy will be done”. Thy will be done!
We are in this desert of Lent for forty days and forty nights with our Lord. One of the more difficult things to understand is fasting, the kind of fasting Christ was able to do and understand that our first parents were not able to do. It is, in fact, one of the defining characteristics of Lent, fasting. There can be a loneliness that goes along with it. If you are fasting from meat while all of your coworkers order a sausage pizza on Friday, you know what I mean. Or, on days like Ash Wednesday and Good Friday where our church asks us to fast by only eating one regular sized meal and two small meals that wouldn’t equal the larger one, we may miss the community associated with dinner-time. I believe this loneliness, caused by the sin of our first parents, is often what causes us to give in to temptation and break our fast early. Yet, our Lord gives us the true spiritual value of fasting: that not even basic needs like nutrition, hydration, and oxygenation are more important than God. In God alone is our soul at rest. Our help comes from him.

catharsis

After what was (arguably) the worst week I've had as a priest, I looked down at the dead body of my friend in a casket and found peace. I've never lost a friend as close as Fr. Bob and it really turned my life upside down for a week or more. I was angry, not at God or the church or doctors, more at circumstances. I was angry that I didn't get to visit him when he was in the hospital. I was angry that Bob died in the first place.

But I had to set that aside when I got to say goodbye. Fr. Bob's classmate, Fr. Dave Schatz, did one of the best priest funeral homilies I've heard. And it helped a lot to have a visit with my spiritual director right after the funeral.

Fr. Bob never looked at me or treated me like I was some know nothing plebe barely able to know how to use the big boy potty. He treated me like a brother, a friend. We'd joke about the difference in ages but, ultimately, there was no arrogance, no snobbishness. There was nothing but respect and I will always respect him for that.

Reactions to Protestants and Orthodox

I'm from Iowa and I like to think of myself as a prototypical Iowan. I love my state. And, to quote the music man, "...We're so by (gosh) stubborn we could stand touchin' noses for a week at a time and never see eye to eye...but we'll give you our shirt and our back to go with it if your crops should happen to die." Yep. That's me. I'm definitely at least partially the a product of the environment in which I have been raised.

I think that's why I have a tremendously different reaction to Protestants than I do the Orthodox. Most of the time, when Protestants criticize the church, it raises my hackles. I immediately want to defend the church from attack. I immediately think that there can be no truth to their accusations. I'm sure it comes down to personal bias since I've been attacked by Protestants ever since I left Catholic grade school. The crusades were taught to me in Middle School as the corrupt Roman Catholic Church trying to take over the lands of some peaceful Arab shepherds who rose up against the evil Roman Church despite overwhelming odds against them. Of course, none of that is really true but my EXTREMELY biased teacher never took the time to get into the complexities of history because that would be a violation of church/state separation. From there, I was told by evangelical protestants that I'm not a real Christian, that the church eats babies, that priests and nuns have sex and eat those babies at the eucharist, that catholic priests are either all gay or all pedophiles, that catholics blindly follow whatever the pope says...and on and on. Lies, all of them. Thankfully, I've also met some very friendly Lutherans and Methodists along the way that have helped repair some of the damage but my instinct, sadly, is always and likely will always be DEFEND THE POPE! Fight the Protestant!

The other day, however, I heard an Orthodox priest criticizing the Roman Catholic decision from two years ago to move the Annunciation because it fell on Good Friday. I listened patiently and thought, "You know, maybe he's right. Maybe we shouldn't have done that." A reaction which tends to be pretty typical when I hear a member of one of the Orthodox Churches criticizing Roman Catholicism. Why would I have such a different reaction to them? As I said at the beginning, I wonder if it's because I'm from Iowa where a member of the orthodox is about as rare of a species as you can get. Or if it's because I tend to view the Orthodox as actually caring about continuity. History is important. They are in this world but not of it. Orthodox priests still wear these beautiful garments and seek to stand out from a crowd by what they wear. Most Catholic priests have spent the last twenty years trying to figure out if they can look more like their protestant counterparts and get away with it. We wear suits all the time and mock priests that make the decision to wear cassocks, the clerical shirt is something you wear for more formal events otherwise you should wear "business casual", and the key is to get people to call you by your first name no longer "Father". Orthodox lay people even have a sense of distinction. They love their liturgy and their traditions...both of which go back hundreds of years if not longer.

Ultimately I think what plagues me is that I know that Christ wants us to be united, to be one as he is one with the Father and Holy Spirit. But I see us continually growing farther and farther away from the Protestants in such things as married clergy, women clergy, gay and lesbian clergy, true presence, etc. The Orthodox, despite being separated from them for 1200 years, are not going to give in to culture like many protestant groups have done. I just hope that my vision isn't clouded simply because I don't live in Greece or the Ukraine.

Entering into Lent

As you can probably tell by my last post, these last couple of weeks have been really tough for me. I don't want to go into specifics about everything but one important piece is that my friend passed away. Fr. Bob Davies, a good and faithful priest of the Archdiocese of Dubuque and my friend passed away on the day of the Lord's resurrection, last Sunday. Bob helped me in my frist year of seminary by forcing me out of my room, away from my books, and toward books stores. He was one of three guys that I drew on when studies became wearisome and I started to feel overwhelmed, I could always count on Bob Davies to talk it out.

And, we both had a subscription to the Guthrie Theater in the Twin Cities and would travel up to see plays four or five times a year. At first, our brother Fr. Andrew Lawrence, would with us. But then he went full-time active duty as a military chaplain so that meant that Fr. Bob and I would go together. The good thing was that Fr. Bob always kept the conversation going.

I miss him a lot already and know that his funeral on Friday will be quite difficult. Please pray for the repose of his soul and pray for me too.

a few late night reflections

I've been praying a lot about this parable recently. It's not one of Jesus' parables but, I believe, it's a preparation for it. In case you don't know about the story of David and Bathsheba from 2 Samuel 11, David basically stole another man's wife, got her pregnant, and then killed him by sending him to war. It's a little more involved than that but that will get you by. When Nathan, the prophet, is appointed to tell David that he knows what he did, Nathan uses this parable to trap David into convicting himself....

12:1 The LORD sent Nathan to David, and when he came to him, he said: "Judge this case for me! In a certain town there were two men, one rich, the other poor. 2 The rich man had flocks and herds in great numbers. 3 But the poor man had nothing at all except one little ewe lamb that he had bought. He nourished her, and she grew up with him and his children. She shared the little food he had and drank from his cup and slept in his bosom. She was like a daughter to him. 4 Now, the rich man received a visitor, but he would not take from his own flocks and herds to prepare a meal for the wayfarer who had come to him. Instead he took the poor man's ewe lamb and made a meal of it for his visitor." 5 David grew very angry with that man and said to Nathan: "As the LORD lives, the man who has done this merits death! 6 He shall restore the ewe lamb fourfold because he has done this and has had no pity." 7 Then Nathan said to David: "You are the man!"

I've been thinking about it for several reasons, but especially how often the (so called) liberals in the church proclaim that they want to get rid of the "power of the priesthood". They seek "collaboration". They want to have a "conversation" and encourage "dialogue" And then, when they get that collaboration, they are the biggest tyrants of all. They not only get to rule their own houses but they want to rule of the house of God, turning theology and ministry into something that everyone but the priest can do. They seek to take the service that the priest offers and turn it into power they can wield over people. And it's most frustrating that they claim they demand conversation and dialogue while they themselves often make unilateral decisions.

Priests in this generation

The role priests play for the church is incredibly dynamic and one that I'm constantly trying to figure out. In the early church, the presbyterate was probably a group of intelligentsia advising the bishop to ensure that the church did not get off track. It's my understanding that the bishop would not have initially been chosen from among the priests but among the deacons. I have always assumed that meant that the priests were supposed to stay in the background while the bishop put his life on the line making as close to public statements as an illegal organization can make.

Of course, when the church expanded, it became clear that priests were needed to be more than advisers to the bishop. They needed to be shepherds to small parts of the larger area the bishop led. The bishop turned into a rarely seen (though often prayed for) overseer while the priest was to be on the seen, directly involved.

What I find ironic is that parishes are somewhat being set up in this same pattern in the US. Priests are often "in charge" of large staffs who are to be in more direct contact with the people. They buffer the pastor in some ways who is seen as too busy to meet with people. Other than Sunday liturgy, the pastor is not really expected to come to most meetings or being free to talk with someone who walks in off the street. And, with the number of priests decreasing at a higher rate than the number of parishes, it could be that a "lay leader of prayer" is present at almost every Sunday Celebration (in the absence of a priest) while the priest bounces between as many as ten or twelve different parishes over the course of a month.

Some have said that this means we need to change priesthood to better fit current circumstances. I tend, instead, to think that we may need to ask, from a theological point of view, what do priests need to be for their people. Should the priest merely be an empowerer of other staff members, an overseer like the bishop ended up becoming or does the priest need to be more "in charge"? Is there a point when a diocese should feel justified in telling a parish that they cannot staff them with a priest and so they cannot remain open? If so, what characteristics define when that needs to take place? Is there any precedence for normalizing regular Sunday Celebrations in the Absence of a Priest? What effect does that have on a community?

I raise these questions without answers because I feel like they are bigger than my opinions allow for. They deserve some serious reflection, though.

whoever does the will of my heavenly father

The gospel for today is taken from the gospel of Mark 3:31-35. Catholics often have to defend the charge that this directly points to Jesus "brothers and sisters", thus the perpetual virginity of Mary can't be true since Jesus had brothers and sisters. Over and over again, catholic scholars have pointed out the fluidity of those terms, the tradition that these are actually Jesus' cousins, and (my own personal belief) that these were likely children by Joseph's former marriages. Of course, both sides miss the larger point that this is supposed to be the beginning of people abandoning Jesus, even the 12, at his crucifixion.

What I find fascinating is that Catholics have not pointed out something else that should put Protestants on the defense. Jesus says that in order to be his mother, brother, and sister, we must "DO the will of God". This is an active verb. It's far from the sola fides of Luther. This is much closer to the notion of James, "Show me your faith and I'll show you my works."

Please keep in your prayers...

A good priest friend is battling for his life even as I type these words. Fr. Bob Davies was found Friday in his rectory unconscious. They transported him to two different hospitals and the doctors at the second one which are used to dealing with more critical cases believe it isn't quite the simple diabetic coma he had about a year ago. It seems as though Fr. Bob had a stroke that sent him into this. I haven't heard anything for about a day so please keep this good priest in your prayers.

Feast Day

I've had a strange couple of days. On Thursday, I had a funeral at the funeral home. On Friday, I had a wedding rehearsal in Marshalltown, Iowa and Saturday we had the wedding. Thankfully, our deacon agreed to take the homily for the weekend and he did a great job. He talked about being called in the context of St. Thomas Aquinas. If you've never heard it, St. Thomas was originally supposed to be a Benedictine because (ironically) it was considered more prestigious than the order he ended up joining, the Dominicans. But, he went with where he felt God called him. Deacon Paul then invited people to reflect on their own call. What is the call you feel God is given you.

update

Here in Iowa, we are having our first typical Iowa winter in years. That might be an exaggeration but we haven't been above freezing in weeks and we've consistently had snow on the ground since Thanksgiving. We probably should have seen it coming since most forecasters predicted that this would be a mild winter with very little snow but it has basically been snowing for the last three days straight and it looks as though we will get a break tomorrow and then another storm moves in for Friday.

On the one hand, it should mean that students are spending a good amount of time studying but I'm finding that it's hard to concentrate since you really can't even go outside. Tonight it's supposed to be -9 with -20 wind chills. I suppose we are all preparing for Lent in this time and getting ready to give things up, even the freedom to be able to move and be outside. I'll use the time to pray for those who have no shelter from this terrible weather.

I wonder if Texas needs priests...

John the baptist and my first case of swearing in a homily

I was telling a story about a student who I thought was trying to know more about priests in general but who was, instead, trying to figure out if I was straight or gay. When I discovered it, I wanted to say to the kid, "That's none of your business" and that's what I had intended on saying in my homily on Sunday but, instead, I said, "That's none of your DAMN business."

That was enough to throw of the rest of my homily. I meant to talk about how John the Baptist's life led people to think he was weird but that allowed him to have a sense of perspective to talk from both outside and inside, as both a Jew and someone who was more than just a normal Jew, more holy than most of the Jews of his time. I intended on talking about how priesthood is partly about giving order to the holy, holy orders. And why priesthood is so important today and needs to be something we talk about with our kids. Unfortunately, I was so thrown off that I sort of muttered something about how priesthood is important and tapped danced around priesthood not being a sad or lonely life. All in all, it was not my best celbration of the eucharist.

An atypical feminism conversation

I sat in out student lounge yesterday talking to three women who are students at Iowa State about a topic that you wouldn't necessarily expect: why women should be proud to be Catholic.

It all started when I noticed three women students sitting in the student lounge. I went over to say hello and one them asked if I knew anything about Edith Stein/Teresa Benedicta of the Cross. I told her I didn't and she said she thought we should get a group of people together to study her life and writings. She said that there are several people at "the University" (a term that I've learned is what you say when you don't particularly like something about Iowa State) who say the church is anti-woman and we have no response. I agreed and said that we should study the great women saints throughout history, like Felicity and Perpetua, all the Theresas, and others. I also couldn't think of the woman who convinced the Pope to move the papacy back from Avignon, France to Rome and one of them knew it was Catherine of Sienna. One of my favorite statements came from a woman who said she sat next to a male sociologist on a plane ride and the man couldn't understand how a woman could be involved in the church. Her response was that she feels like the church is the only entity that gets her. The church tells her she has dignity and that she is called by name and a child of God and that she is different from man but not less important. I was proud that one of my students would know that the church isn't the evil women oppressing agent that we are often alleged to be. She felt the call of Christ who loved women differently but equally to men.

Also read one of my student's blog

One of my students whose really become a good friend is named Steve Sanda. Steve is in Rome this semester and here's his link. Go check out what he has because he will have a ton of pictures of really cool things.

http://sandainroma.blogspot.com/

Baptism of the Lord

Dearly Beloved in Christ

There’s a song made popular by a woman named Shari Lewis along with her friend, lamb chop, that goes “This is the song that doesn’t end, yes it goes on and on my friend. Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was, and they'll continue singing it forever just because...This is the song that doesn’t end, yes it goes on and on my friend. Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was, and they'll continue singing it forever just because...” and, by now, that’s sort of how I feel about the Christmas season in the church. I start to feel like I’m singing the song that doesn’t end. Stores have long ago put their discounted ornaments and villages in the back of their storage areas for next year, our left over wrapping paper and tags are put away in some closet, and our Christmas tree is probably sitting in some recycling area along with a million others. The church is the only entity that still believes the Christmas Season isn’t done and, by the looks of our tree, we are even starting to feel a little bit dry. But there’s one more thing that deserves reflection before we move onto the Ordinary Time.

Today we celebrate the feast of the Baptism of the Lord, which doesn’t seem to have much to do with the season of Christmas from outset. I mean, there’s a contemporary connection with babies and baptism. Most of the baptisms we do are for infants, which is partly why our baptismal font has that rectangular raised part along the side, so that we can immerse the babies just like we do adults. (In fact, here shortly, Fr. Ev will show you what that means and I invite all of you, during the baptism, to leave your pews and come closer to see what happens during that ceremony.) But, Jesus wasn’t a baby when he was baptized, he was probably somewhere in his late twenties or early thirties when it happened. And, unlike almost every baptism that I have when I immerse a baby in the font, the first noise that is heard after baptism isn’t the noise of a baby screaming, it’s a voice that seems to continue the Epiphany of last week, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.”

There’s a very interesting interaction that happens before the baptism that is, I believe, the heart of why this is a fitting conclusion to the Christmas Season. One of the seeming contradictions that the early church had to deal with was that it maintained the Jesus was born without sin and never committed sin during his life. They would say Jesus was “One like us in all things but sin.” But, it was also well known that Jesus ministry began after he had been baptized by John in the Jordan, a baptism that was known to be for the forgiveness of sin. So why would someone who was without sin need a baptism that was for the forgiveness of sin? According to the gospel, it was “to fulfill all righteousness.” In other words, Jesus didn’t come as a mere observer of the human condition, he came to be fully human. To use slightly crass language, Jesus didn’t come to be a wall flower, he came to dance.

This is important for several reasons, not the least of which is that, by becoming human and fully entering into our life, he transformed our potential so that we may enter into his life. In a sense, by God becoming human, he showed us humans a glimpse of what it means to be God. The first reading described this as God's justice. The second as God's impartiality. The Eastern Orthodox have the term deification, literally that by entering into the church we become like God. This isn’t meant in a sacrilegious way in that we can somehow have the power of God or the wisdom and understanding of God. That’s the sin of our first parents. Adam and Eve sought to be gods. As Christians, we need something to remove all our human imperfections, all things that stop us from loving God and loving neighbor, in order to become like God. Christmas would have been meaningless for us had God not shown us how we participate in it, which is what baptism is supposed to be. Just as the Eucharist is our entrance into the eternal life offered at Easter, so Baptism is our entrance into the divinity of Christ, our ability to know and appreciate that the tiny infant none of us got to see in the manger, is truly God-with-us, prince of peace. This is the salvation that cannot end. God with us so that we can be with God.

universal not unitarian

I wonder if the new heresy will be a confusion of the idea of "catholic". Some people think that it means the church is open to all new movements, that we don't close ourselves off to things. Yet, throughout the history of the church, this is a common theme. From Basil and Tertulian battling early heresies to Gregory the Great's attempt to unite the church under himself, to St. Thomas Aquinas infamous "you have heard it said...but I say" style of Socratic method, the church has had to distance herself from incorrect ideas in order to cleave more closely to Christ.

The Unitarian community in this country will take anyone regardless of what they believe. We are universal, not because you can believe whatever you want or because the church should be open to everything but because we need to communicate Christ to all the world.

The pope on the family

The Pope's Holy Family Angelus address is great. You can find it here and my favorite quote is...

"For this, parents have the right and fundamental obligation to educate their children, in the faith and in the values that dignify human existence. It is worth it to work for the family and marriage because it is worth it to work for the human being, the most valuable being created by God.

I direct myself in a special way to the children, so that they love and pray for their parents and brothers and sisters; to the young people, so that stimulated by the love of their parents, they follow with generosity their own vocation to marriage, the priesthood or religious life; to the elderly and the sick, so that they find the help and understanding they need. And to you, beloved spouses, count on the grace of God always, so that your love will be always more and more fruitful and faithful."

The Nativity Story

I decided that, since today is the end of the Octave of Christmas, I would watch the movie with the above title and I have to admit it's not bad. I had a few problems with it but nothing huge. The filmakers had to fill in some of the details of Mary and Joseph's pre-scripture life and they did so the best they could. I even feel like they left open the possibility for Mary's perpetual virginity. I especially loved how they wove traditional Christmas carols into the score. Most of the time people probably didn't even know they were there. It's tough to blend Matthew and Luke's infancy narrative because there does appear to be contradictions. But, they did a good job of trying to present an understandable story with some drama.

The astrologer/wise men were really good. The growth in the relationship between Mary and Joseph was strong, although I would have preferred an older Joseph. And I still think that Joseph had children by a previous marriage but I will only know that for sure when we meet in heaven. I just think it's really interesting to see how Protestants view Mary because the movie is basically all about her and Joseph. What a perfect way to finish off the octave and celebrate the solemnity of Mary, Mother of God.

Mary, Mother of God and mother of the church

I love preaching about Mary mother of the church on this day that we devote to Mary's oldest title: theotokos in Greek, Mater Dei in Latin, Mother of God in English. I know it's still being worked out theologically but I always like to think that Mary's yes is our yes, her willingness to give birth to the Son of God is the first of us to say yes to God. She may not have given birth to all of us but she gave birth to our faith to the extent that she gave birth to Christ. And, even though she is just like a good Jewish mother who always wants to put her son before herself, this does not diminish her important contribution.

...and a happy new year

What a wild week the octave of Christmas is. We just get done with Christmas and quickly move on to the Sunday between and then we conclude with Mary, Mother of God/New Years. I get a few days off after all that gets done and before my students come back. I don't know why it surprises me each year but I'm already ready for the students to come back. It's just too quiet. I even spent time rearranging the student lounge because I was bored. I have work to do it's just hard to get motivated when no one's around. I NEED to get it done, however, so that I can spend time with the students when they get back or at least not be too behind the eight ball.

Here's wishing you all a happy New Year. Make a resolution but not too many, one accomplishable goal. I'm going to try to volunteer at an animal shelter.

How the family makes us holy

When we think of family in today’s society, what are some images that come to mind? If you are of a certain generation, you might think of Archie, Edith, Gloria, and Meathead from the television show “All in the Family”. Archie is the typical 1950’s urban racist with his diminutive wife, Edith, and daughter, Gloria, who dared to marry the open-minded, anti-authoritarian Michael, nicknamed “meathead” by his father-in-law, Archie because of his left-wing political stances. This image seems to permeate the meaning of 1950’s America and is used, by some, to show the weakness of the nuclear family in a time in which the nuclear family was supposed to be at it’s strongest. Today, if you look at the media’s portrayal of family life, you can see that this portrayal perdures. Many television shows portray an overbearing father who pushes his wife around making ridiculous decisions for his entire family that seem to only benefit himself.

On this Sunday the church invites us to reflect on the nature of the family through the lens of the Holy Family. This Sunday is situated in the midst of the octave of Christmas, an eight-day celebration that begins at Christmas and ends with the celebration of Mary, the Mother of God on January first. This octave is partially a reminder that Christmas can’t be a one-shot deal. Christmas is too important to last one day. I’m always thankful that we do this after, not before December 25th. It’s as though our church is saying that while the commercial version of Christmas begins after Thanksgiving and ends on Christmas day, we wait until the fervor of consumerism has died away in order to spend eight days reflecting on the spiritual meaning of Christmas. The octave also allows us to reflect on different aspects of that fateful night when God became one-with-us in order to save us. Today, we discover that Christ came as part of a family in order to give us an example of a Holy Family. I found it fascinating that the first two readings focus on the entire family but the gospel shifts to offer some time to reflect on the one person that can get short shrift during the Christmas season, Joseph. But there is something that connects all three readings and it is, I believe, the reason the church has us reflect on these three passages in particular. Each, in its own unique way, portrays an essential obligation of marriage.

The first reading from Sirach clearly paints for us the image of a family that is open to life. Parents are to be honored by children and a parent is to live honorably. It is through these familial relations, according to that first reading, that one atones for sins, has prayers heard, is blessed with children, and has a long life. Despite attempts to redefine the idea of family in our modern world, we must safeguard this image both because it mirrors the image of the Holy Family and because it is the best environment to raise children.

The second reading is another one of Paul’s attempts to help us understand love. The laundry list of proper dispositions, including “heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another…” only makes sense when cloaked with love. Otherwise, any of them could result in abuse, discouragement, or a one-sided relationship. Certainly, Paul’s closing statement, “Wives, be subordinate to your husbands, as is proper in the Lord” has been abused in the past and deserves the constant paring of “Husbands, love your wives, and avoid any bitterness toward them.” Humility, love, and subordination are all related in this statement. Paul is also telling husbands to be subordinate to their wives by telling them to love their wives.

Love and openness to children are the first two pieces to this puzzle but it concludes in the gospel with the commitment that is necessary for a family to succeed. Joseph has no reason to stay with Mary and Jesus when the angel appears. This isn’t his son biologically. This very well could be the second or third wife that Joseph has had in his life. Yet, Joseph doesn’t run away when life becomes difficult. He steps up and does what God wants him to do in order to keep his family together. This is the truly radical notion of family that we have to put forth. Far too many men believe that, when family seems to take away their masculinity or rob them of their ability to be in charge, then they can either react with force toward their wives or find a way to escape. The Christian message through Joseph is that the image of Archie Bunker, Homer Simpson, and Peter Griffin is insufficient to the type of holy family each of us should strive to have. We must build our families on commitment, on love, and on a willingness to share in the divine creativity that first brought us into this world and then brought about our salvation through Christ.

Merry Christmas

Each year, for the last ten years, Christmas has been changing. My nieces and nephews are getting older and so my siblings don't come home on Christmas day. They come home earlier or after. That means that Christmas is very quiet around the Miller home. We open a few gifts that we save until that day and then we eat a big lunch and then we just sit around and rest during the afternoon. Today we had steak fixed on a charcoal grill. It probably seems unusual but the weather was outstanding here in Iowa. The temperature was above freezing so we could scrape off some of the ice that had been sitting there since early December. It was nice to have bright sunshine on the day we celebrate the birth of the Son.

Actually, that's the amazing thing about Advent. On the weekends, we consistently had bad weather of snow and ice and made the longing for the coming of Christ very palpable. Unfortunately it continues to snow every weekend during the Christmas season which I was hoping would change but you can't change the weather.

Here's hoping you all had a very merry Christmas with family and friends and celebrated the love of God made visible.

A Test of Faith? So close to Christmas?

On Friday, I was supposed to drive to Nevada around 8:30, load the St. Thomas Christmas tree in the back of my truck, take it back to St. Thomas by 9:00 in order to meet several members of the Knights of Columbus who were supposed to help set up the tree before the decorators arrived. That was what was supposed to happen. Instead, I got a call at 9:10 asking if I had already picked up the tree. I immediately did a quick inhale, spoke a few choice words, and walked down to church in order to explain that I had, in fact, not picked up the tree yet because I had forgotten. After my profoundest apologies, three of us jumped into my truck and headed to Nevada, hoping to be just a half hour or so later than expected. We found the right address and eventually found a way into the house from a neighbor and found ourselves staring at a 20 foot long Christmas tree. We looked at it and then looked at my 8 foot long truck bed and realized something simply wasn’t going to work. After several different possible scenarios, we decided to call around to borrow a trailer from a St. Thomas Parishioner. Finally, at 11:30, just two and a half hours later than expected, the 20 foot tall St. Thomas Tree arrived at the entrance. It took a half-hour to set up and has been termed the Santa Tree by some because the top leans toward the wall, making it appear like a jolly old fat man. In the intervening two and a half hours, I made phone calls trying to find the right house, trying to find someone to unlock the door, trying to find someone to move the tree for us, and trying to find extra people to help set up this mammoth tree; and I had to get a substitute for noon mass and reschedule an afternoon meeting in Cedar Rapids. And, as Friday was a very foggy, dark, and dreary day, I kept thinking that I wouldn’t nearly this miffed if we could just see the sun!

As I sat down to prepare this homily, I couldn’t help but think that this is a very appropriate experience to help us understand these readings, in particular the first and third. I mean, on the one hand there doesn’t appear to be a lot of connection between them. In the first reading, King Ahaz is ordered by God to ask God for something. His kingdom is about to be attacked by another kingdom, his people don’t trust him, and things are generally not going well for him. All he has to do is ask for one of these things to be alleviated. But pride gets in the way. He refuses to ask for any of it. Instead, he pretends to not want to tempt God by asking him for something. In truth, he simply lets his ego get in the way. Joseph, on the other hand, seems overly obedient. It doesn’t take an angelic or prophetic visit in order for Joseph to do what God wants. All it takes is for God to appear in a dream. Like the Joseph of old who interpreted the dreams of Pharaoh, this Joseph knows when God is talking to him and he responds by taking care of business. It is, therefore, clear that Ahaz and Joseph are two very different men with but one point of connection: They are two men who are, in some way, given a test of faith.

In just a day or two, we will, as a church, be singing those great Christmas songs that we have sung so many times. And, if you’re like me, you may have difficulty sympathizing with songs of “heavenly peace” and statements of “silent night.” We seem to hear messages that would indicate that life should be a lot simpler this time of year. How do we do all the work that goes into making Christmas special and still “let every heart prepare Him room, and heaven and nature sing, and heaven and nature sing, and heaven, and heaven and nature sing?” Maybe we need to look to an even more profound type of peace than we are used to, a peace that demands a response on our part, a peace that fights against the lethargy and sloth usually associated with the term and demands that we open our hearts to be the vessels through which Christ is present. St. Teresa of Avila said it best, “Christ has no body on earth but yours, no hands but yours, no feet but yours. Yours are the eyes through which Christ's compassion for the world is to look out; yours are the feet with which He is to go about doing good; and yours are the hands with which He is to bless us now.”

So, as we continue to prepare for the coming of Christ, our quest does not rest in the comfort of silent contemplation. We will find heavenly peace only when we are being God’s hands, feet, and heart for this world that longs to see the Son.

Explaining mystery with even more confusing mystery

I've been following some of the furor surrounding the movie The Golden Compass in order to understand it a little bit better. As usual, I refuse to give people that blatantly attack the Catholic Church and/or God money in order to see their movie or read their books. I know that means I have to rely on others to comment but, as a priest, I don't have enough time in a day to read what deserves to get read like encyclicals and good periodicals and such.

But, if what I'm reading is true, here's the premise of the Golden Compass. God is not the creator but was, instead, created from chaos. If my memory of ancient philosophy holds true, this is Heraclitus who believed all matter was fire and, thus, change. When other things were created, according to the Golden compass, God claimed to be their creator.

Now, this is interesting for two reasons: absence of proof and solving a problem by creating a larger problem. By absence of proof I mean that the person writing this isn't claiming to have a vision by a god/angel telling him or her what is happening. It's just a fairy tale to make children atheist, according to the author (or so I've heard). And, what about this makes any sense at all? So, the problem of a creator God is taken care of but the larger problem of human origins still need to be solved. It fails to answer the most basic question that haunts all atheists: why is there something rather than nothing. Why does the creating ooze exist? Accident? Coincidence? What role does God play if not creator? Bully? Management?

A good story leaves the listener/reader wanting further clarification. But it can't make a person just say, "Yeah, that could never happen." But it sounds to me like that's what I would do if I were to read these books. Thank goodness I still need to find time to read other books including this one before I even ponder reading the Golden Compass.

More communal penance...

I enjoy celebrating the sacrament of reconciliation with people. I really do. I admit that I get tired of these elaborate communal penance celebrations for just two or three people but I always walk away feeling like I have helped people be put right with God. It's always an amazing feeling to stand in the place of Christ, to be his voice, and tell people that their sins are forgiven in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. It's so tremendous! I often think of that simile that Jesus tells in which the man with a beam in his eye is exhorted to avoid judging the person with the splinter in his own. I sin. I have sinned. And I will sin (regretfully). I am not sitting in judgment. I am praising the God who forgives my sins just like they forgive the sins of the person coming to me seeking forgiveness and I praise the God who uses me to let these tax collectors and prostitutes know that they have been forgiven.

Ukranian Rite and Maronite Rite Catholics

This past week, I had the joy of taking a group of students to Minneapolis to experience two eastern right Catholic liturgies. For more information on what that means, go here.

Both were incredibly beautiful. The first one was a Ukranian Catholic Church and the second a Maronite catholic church. The first was almost entirely in English with a few songs at the end in Ukranian. The second was in English, Arabic, and Aramaic. The chant at the second was just beautiful and reminded me of my time in Israel. The kids seemed very impressed and wanted to bring several things back.

"Wisdom! Let us be attentive"

censors with bells on them

"Depart catechumens! Catechumens depart! Depart catechumens...."

A new scripture website

I was reading on Catholic News Service about this new catholic scripture website. I'm not sold on it but you may find it helpful.

http://www.clerus.org/bibliaclerus/index_eng.html

great podcast

I was listening to the busted halo podcast (found here) episode number 33 and I think you should all check it out. It was interesting, especially the part about the Easter vigil. I hope I can remember it when we get closer to Easter.

Opening Acts

I was recently down in Des Moines (,Iowa) at a comedy club and things worked out exactly as they should have. They had an opening act that made us all laugh and then had a disappointing second act. But the main comedian was hilarious. It worked a lot better than Marshalltown High School football games where the team was awful but the marching band was awesome.

This time of year makes us aware of some opening acts. There's Mary in the Immaculate Conception and Our Lady of Guadeloupe. The Immaculate Conception reminds us that Mary, in order to be a vessel for the savior of the world, must have been uniquely gifted with freedom from original sin. With the celebration of Our Lady of Guadeloupe, the church remembers Mary's appearance to Juan Diego which had such a profound effect on the Mexican people. Mary's message to build a church in Guadeloupe, Mexico bridged the divide between church and society.

Today's opening act is John the Baptist. We hear a snippet from this fiery prophet who preached repentance and being prepared. He engendered a great deal of faith from the Jewish people of Jesus time and built up quite a base.

Yet, both of these opening acts have one thing in common: both understood that they were preparing the way for someone greater, a son and a cousin. The mark of a good prophet, after all, is to point to something larger than yourself, to God, and help people to prepare for it. This is, in many ways, what the first reading was all about. While the first part of that reading emphasized that the bad will be punished, the second parted seemed to indicate a return to primordial Eden.

"the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb,
and the leopard shall lie down with the kid;
the calf and the young lion shall browse together,"

And, despite the fact that this is a beautiful scene of cooperation, there's a part of me that wonders if this was code for different tribes. Like, if today, we said,

the bear will be a guest of the viking
and the hawkeye shall lie down with the gopher
the cyclone and the sooner shall browse together.

Perhaps the prophet was saying that tribes that normally don't get along will be able to. One thing that Christians have seen in this is that a little child that will guide them. As Christians, we believe that even Isaiah pointed us to the Christ child.

During this time of opening acts for him, dont' get lost. They're just here to remind us how they prepared for him. We prepare for him by going to reconciliation and by repairing relationships with family and friends that have been lost throughout this year. We also need to find time amidst the chaos of this time of year to make straight our path in prayer, to not let the opening acts of this season of gift giving and Christmas parities distract us from what really matters, the coming of Christ

A few thoghts about being spiritual but not religious

I heard on the Busted Halo Podcast #30 a few people help me to understand with greater clarity the distinction people make between being spiritual and being religious. I have always thought someone who was religious was committed to belief in God while someone who was spiritual was rather uncommitted. In fact, I thought someone who was "spiritual" rather than "religious" was one step away from being "agnostic" because, if you don't practice something and keep thinking about it, you will abandon what you have already learned.

But, according to the people they interviewed, being spiritual is more about making your own path to God while being religious is more communal but also more possible to be corrupted. They cited all kinds of rules that get in the way of their spirituality as an example of religion being corrupted. And, while this is very possibly true, I would think there is just as much corruption in personal spirituality as there is with communal. Perhaps one could argue that personal spirituality has less potential for large acts of aggression as a more communal, religious attitude.

The easy response that I have is that this presumes both are dependant on human creation of the religion and don't take into account the presence of God. I mean, if faith is faithful than it demands that God be more than a passive agent. God is the author of faith, after all. If God plays anything more than a passive role in faith, then it should involve more than just the two of us. Healthy relationships are ones that involve more than just two people. The relationships that scare the heck out of me for marriage prep are when a couple think that they'll get married and won't need others to be part of their relationship. That basically means that everyone else becomes either an obstacle or a compartmentalized component of life, both attitudes which are problematic.

Religion should be a more open experience in common with God. It means that God is not simply a passive component to my life nor a compartmentalized component that has nothing to do with the rest of my life. God is not your imaginary friend. Religion gives us the space to bring the integral relationship we should have with into conversation with the rest of our relationships.

The feeding of the 5000 and the Exodus

I have a feeling I'm the not the first to notice this and that I'm stealing this from someone but here goes....

Today's readings reminded me of the story of the giving of the manna in Exodus 16. And here's why...

2 Here in the desert the whole Israelite community grumbled against Moses and Aaron.
3 The Israelites said to them, "Would that we had died at the LORD'S hand in the land of Egypt, as we sat by our fleshpots and ate our fill of bread! But you had to lead us into this desert to make the whole community die of famine!"
It took the Israelites grumbling for God to give them bread. In the gospel, Jesus anticipates their need and freely gives them bread.
4 Then the LORD said to Moses, "I will now rain down bread from heaven for you. Each day the people are to go out and gather their daily portion; thus will I test them, to see whether they follow my instructions or not.
So, this is a test: Will they take more than they need because they don't trust that God will supply the amount that they need tomorrow. Or will they follow God's word.
5 On the sixth day, however, when they prepare what they bring in, let it be twice as much as they gather on the other days."
In the Gospel, God gives them SEVEN basket's full extra. Here, they are only given one extra portion on the sixth day to prevent work on the sabbath. In Christian typology, Easter (of which the Eucharist is always our connection) is seen as the eighth day, the day of recreation. I think this is pointing to this. God only gave his people extra on the sabbath. But, on the eighth day, the Lord supplies overflowing amounts.
6 So Moses and Aaron told all the Israelites, "At evening you will know that it was the LORD who brought you out of the land of Egypt;
7 and in the morning you will see the glory of the LORD, as he heeds your grumbling against him. But what are we that you should grumble against us?
8 When the LORD gives you flesh to eat in the evening," continued Moses, "and in the morning your fill of bread, as he heeds the grumbling you utter against him, what then are we? Your grumbling is not against us, but against the LORD."
They will know that it was the Lord when he gives them his flesh to eat. This is why, as Catholics, we maintain the eucharist as our focal point of worship, because God gives us HIS FLESH and, through that, we know that he has given it to us.

On that day it will be said:
“Behold our God, to whom we looked to save us!
This is the LORD for whom we looked;
let us rejoice and be glad that he has saved us!”
For the hand of the LORD will rest on this mountain.

Spe Salvi

The Pope has written a new encyclical with the above title on the topic of Christian hope. I sat down and started to read it and made it a while but, much like many of this present Pope's other writings, I find myself pausing often to think about what he is saying fairly often. Here's just one example from paragraph 4...

"We have raised the question: can our encounter with the God who in Christ has shown us his face and opened his heart be for us too not just “informative” but “performative”—that is to say, can it change our lives, so that we know we are redeemed through the hope that it expresses? Before attempting to answer the question, let us return once more to the early Church. It is not difficult to realize that the experience of the African slave-girl Bakhita was also the experience of many in the period of nascent Christianity who were beaten and condemned to slavery. Christianity did not bring a message of social revolution like that of the ill-fated Spartacus, whose struggle led to so much bloodshed. Jesus was not Spartacus, he was not engaged in a fight for political liberation like Barabbas or BarKochba. Jesus, who himself died on the Cross, brought something totally different: an encounter with the Lord of all lords, an encounter with the living God and thus an encounter with a hope stronger than the sufferings of slavery, a hope which therefore transformed life and the world from within."

There are so many things that the Holy Father is saying in this paragraph. The first deals with salvation. As Catholics we don't really have certainty of personal salvation like the evangelicals claim to have. We have "hope" for salvation. The Pope is setting up this encyclical to address what that means.

Also, by using the phrase "political liberation" and not citing the (principally) South American "Liberation Theology" movement, he seems to be addressing the kind of false hope that they put forth. Instead of citing Oscar Romero or one of the Jesuit martyrs, Pope Benedict points to an African slave who was freed by her Christian owners and went on to be a very effective witness to Christian liberation sans Marxism. The reference to Bar Kochba reinforces this. Bar Kochba led the second Jewish revolt by which they were thrown out of the entire country of Israel and their hopes for a renewed Temple were dashed for good. He thought he could, militarilly and politically, bring about a change in status. But he could not. The Pope is asking us to consider that Christ came to liberate us through a holy encounter.

Homily podcast

We've decided to make our homilies available via podcast. So, if you're tired of reading them, you can hear them now here.

Expectant waiting

When you are waiting in a line, are you the type of person who sits and hopes that everyone else will somehow be moved out of the way and you’ll get through or someone who hopes that somehow a new line will open up that is exclusive to you; The Father Dennis line at the gas station. You might know what I mean if you tried to go to a grocery store on Friday. That was the day that everybody in town realized that the storm was coming and that it was time to store up food in case we are stuck in our houses until mid May. So, you may have found yourself four or five people deep at the front of the store with an apple and a can of beans waiting while the person ahead of you has an overflowing cart unloaded on the conveyer belt and the poor cashier, who is doing her best to get people through as quickly as possible, has to find out if that was a braeburn apple or a red delicious.

I think this is kind of similar to the dilemma in the readings today. We hear the first reading about God establishing the Temple Mount as the highest mountain. And, since all gods lived on mountains, the one true God is establishing his as the most important of them all. Then all people will know who the real God is and stop worshipping false gods like Baal and Zeus and Ai. Of course, as Christians, we see in this an image of what heaven will be like. We take comfort in the idea of a time of unparalleled peace; swords into plowshares, spears into pruning hooks, nuclear weapons into space ships. Ironically, this is often what atheists will most fault us for. They say this “pie-in-the-sky” theology amounts to escapism, the notion that we will eventually conquer the forces of oppression but only when we are in heaven. They criticize us and say that we have no stake in the present world because we are constantly obscuring the view of the future.

This, it seems to me, is countered in some measure by the first part of the gospel when Jesus seems to say, not that we need to wait for a more peaceful, hopeful heavenly future but that we need to wait when God will wipe away all the evil from this world. In the days of Noah, people were living their sinful lives, doing what normal people do, and then they found out that God was coming to remove them from the equation, if you will. This is the way it will be when Jesus comes again. People who think they are prospering and living lives without acknowledging God will simply be removed from the equation. That’s what’s truly regrettable about those “Left Behind” books. They’ve completely missed the point of this passage. Jesus isn’t saying that the ones that are taken are taken to heaven. In fact, in context, they are going to be just like the unfortunate people during the time of Noah. They’ll be the ones taken to that place of torment whose name we don’t mention in pleasant company. So, an uncritical reading of Jesus message could be that we need to “be ready” or get prepared for h-e-double right angles. This, of course, leads people to a different type of criticism. Namely, people say that this leads more to a dread of condemnation than to actual faith. And, certainly Jesus doesn’t want to see forced conversion out of fear of punishment. The God who is love would never want someone to be forced to believe simply because they don’t want to be tortured. That’s the way a terrorist organization operates not a God who has given us the free will to choose him.

So, where are we? We don’t want to be pie-in-the-sky Christian simpletons and we don’t want to be hunkered down in fear either. How are we to be prepared? I would suggest that, far too often, people fail to appreciate that the preparation itself is the point. We aren’t simply working toward heaven. We are experiencing God in the here and now, albeit in an incomplete way. The master of the house is exhorted to be prepared, to stay awake and be prepared to keep the thieves out of his house. It seems to me that one of the ways that we do this is to prepare ourselves during this season of Advent. To paraphrase Paul in the second reading: Let us conduct ourselves properly as in the day, not in orgies, drunkenness and other abusive excesses, not in promiscuity, lust and other sexual abuses, not in rivalry, jealousy and other abuses of relationship.

Being a Christian is not simply standing in line waiting for some better life ahead. Nor is it a life of trying to find the path of least resistance in order to avoid the pains of hell. There, I said it. Being a Christian means being prepared all the time. The preparation itself has meaning. “So too, you also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.”