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.