The humility of forgiveness

The Annunciation is the first Joyful Mystery of the Holy Rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The fruit of that mystery is humility. This links today's Gospel (as well as our reading from Sirach) with what happened in Minneapolis at Annunciation parish this past week.

On Wednesday, while attending Mass, fourteen children were wounded, several critically, along with three elderly parishioners. Moreover, eight year-old Fletcher Merkel and Harper Moyski, 10, were killed. We apply the description "unimgainable" to these atrocities because it's impossible to imagine what it would be like to have something like that happen to me. It's terrifying to ponder.

On 2 October 2006, Charles Roberts entered a one room Amish school in Nickel Mines, Pennsylvania and took everyone hostage. He killed five girls and wounded another five. This after he released all the boys, leaving the girls to face his wrath. These girls ranged in age from 6 to thirteen. After shooting his victims, Roberts then took his own life. Roberts was a milkman known to the Amish community he so brutally attacked.

On the very day the Pennsylvania shooting occurred, the grandfather of one of the murdered Amish girls warned relatives not to hate, telling them, in reference to Charles Roberts, "We must not think evil of this man." Another member of this community pointed out that Roberts "had a mother and a wife and a soul and now he's standing before a just God." We can say that, too, of Robin Westman, the person who so violently attacked Annunication church, and who also killed himself, that he had a mother and a father and is now standing before a just God. We must leave ultimate judgment to God.

Jack Meyer, a member of the Brethren community living near the Amish in Lancaster County, explained in the wake of the 2006 shooting: "I don't think there's anybody here that wants to do anything but forgive and not only reach out to those who have suffered a loss in that way but to reach out to the family of the man who committed these acts."

Several members of the Amish community attended Roberts' graveside service, which took place the day after they buried the five children he killed. Those who attended the service hugged Roberts' widow and other members of his family.¹

In 2015, family members of some of those killed by Dylan Roof in a racially-motivated shooting at Emmanuel African Methodist Episcopal church in Charleston, South Carolina, publicly forgave him in court. In a court hearing, a family member of Myra Thompson, one those Roof murdered, said, "I forgive you and my family forgives you," before urging the shooter to "Repent and give your life to Christ and change your ways. You'll be better off than you are now."²

Let's not forget the powerful scene from Rome's Rebibbia prison in 1983, where Pope John Paul II went to meet with and to forgive the man who shot and nearly killed him in Saint Peter's Square in 1981, Mehmet Ali Ağca.

It's never too soon and it's never too late to live the Gospel. This is one of the reasons it is good news. Without a doubt, the shock and trauma are still being experienced by those children and others who experienced Westman's incomprehensible attack as well their families, especially the Merkel and Moyski families. Sadly, these effects will likely linger. Therefore, we must pray for them.

After experiencing the killing of his own infant daughter, Jonas Beiler became a counselor in Pennsylvania. He's counseled members of the Amish community attacked by Roberts. It was during the time he was studying to be a counselor that Beiler's wife founded Auntie Anne's Pretzels. This has allowed him to practice counseling among the Amish.

Speaking from personal and professional experience, Beiler noted, "Tragedy changes you." After experiencing such trauma, he noted, "You can't stay the same." Looking at the bigger picture, he observed

Where that lands you don't always know. But what I found out in my own experience if you bring what little pieces you have left to God, he somehow helps you make good out of it. And I see that happening in this school shooting [referring to the one in Pennsylvania in 2006] as well. One just simple thing that the whole world got to see was this simple message of forgiveness³

Forgiveness sends a powerful message. As the apostle Paul urges: "Do not be conquered by evil but conquer evil with good."⁴

As disciples of Jesus Christ, let's commit ourselves to non-violence and to doing what we can reduce and eliminate violence. It's important to bear in mind that peace begins with me. In his Angelus message today, Pope Leo, after remembering the shooting in Minnesota and the children violently killed throughout the world each day, addressed the scourge of violence, saying,"Let us plead with God to stop the pandemic of arms, large and small, which infects our world."⁵

Let's never forget that Holy Mass is always the celebration of Christ's resurrection. It is by His resurrection that He overcomes evil and death. It is by His resurrection, ascension and descent of the Holy Spirit that we have the Eucharist. It is through our reception of Holy Communion that Christ can live in us.

A lot more could be said but I will limit myself to pointing out that there are eerie parallels between last week's shooting in Minneapolis and the one that occurred at Covenant School in Nashville, Tennessee in 2023. These bear looking into.⁶

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1 Joseph Shapiro. "Amish Forgive School Shooter, Struggle with Grief." NPR^↩
2 "Charleston shootings: Power of forgiveness in African-American church." CNN^↩
3 "Amish Forgive School Shooter."^↩
4 See Romans 12:17-21.^↩
5 "Pope: 'Arms must fall silent, voice of fraternity and justice must prevail.'"^↩
6 Aaron Cantrell. "Minneapolis tragedy rekindles Covenant School Shooting grief in Nashville." NewsChannel5 Nashville.^↩

Lavishly praise John the Baptist

With the Church’s observance this year of the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Memorial of the Queenship of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and the Memorial of the Passion of John the Baptist, Fridays have recently been wonderful days! Since all of the above observances are fixed dates, they are a week apart every year. While I am always aware of these liturgical celebrations because of my diaconal obligation to the Liturgy of the Hours, these occasions seem amplified this year because of our Friday traditio.

Today is the Memorial of the Passion of John the Baptist. It is fitting that we observe his passion, his execution on Herod Antipas’ orders because of Salomé’s request (made at the behest of her mother Herodias and after getting Herod, uhm, worked up with an erotic dance), a week after two great Marian celebrations. Along with the Blessed Virgin, John the Baptist occupies a unique place in what we technically call “the economy of salvation.”

On the whole, Eastern Christians still venerate the Baptist very highly. Among Latin Catholics, his veneration has faded more than a bit. In addition to being the “seal” of the Hebrew prophets, John was the singular forerunner of the Messiah, foretold by Isaiah and Malachi.

While his birth was not miraculous, like Christ’s, and while he was not “immaculate,” like Mary, his life came about in an amazing way. His conception would be more a long the lines of that of Isaac- born to a barren mature couple. Let’s not forget his leaping in Elizabeth’s womb when, at the approach of the Blessed Virgin, who was then pregnant with our Lord, the Baptist’s mother was filled with the Holy Spirit. Even in utero, it seems, John the Baptist was something of a charismatic! (What brings that up? Fair question. Last night I watched a great interview with Dr. Mary Healy- it's a bit of a reconnection for me).

More to the point of his passion, his execution, his martyrdom, according to the Synoptics, John the Baptist was a defender of marriage. While there is some dispute among historians and New Testament scholars about the accuracy of the Synoptic accounts, according to the Gospels, what landed him jail and led to his death was his insistence that Herod could not validly be married to his half-brother’s wife, Herodias. According to canon law, even today the impediment of affinity must be dispensed before one can marry the spouse of a dead sibling.

To mark today’s memorial, I usually watch the 1988 film Salomé’s Last Dance, a verbatim performance of Oscar Wilde’s play of the same name that takes place within a framing narrative composed by Ken Russell, who directed the film. It features an amazing and intense performance by Imogen Millais-Scott as Salomé. Millais-Scott’s acting career was far too short.

Ut Queant Laxis, also called Hymnus in Ioannem, a Latin hymn to Saint John the Baptist, is our Friday traditio this week. Cecile Gertken, OSB, did an English paraphrase translation of this hymn. She paraphrased it to preserve, as best she could, its original meter:

Do let our voices
resonate most purely,
miracles telling,
far greater than many;
so let our tongues be
lavish in your praises,
Saint John the Baptist

Year C Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Isaiah 66:18-21; Psalm 117:1-2; Hebrews 12:5-7.11-13; Luke 13:22-20

“Will many be saved?” In our day the question maybe, “What does it mean to be saved?” or “Is there any such thing as salvation?” Among some Christians, “Doesn’t everyone automatically go to heaven when they die?”

We seem quick to auto-canonize everyone. This is why we rarely if ever pray for the souls in Purgatory, let alone seek indulgences on their behalf. Yes, praying for the dead and seeking indulgences are still a thing. Like Ember Days or belief in angels, they remain part and parcel of the Catholic faith that has been handed to on us. This Jubilee year, you can even obtain a plenary indulgence, as opposed to a partial indulgence. But this is a bit beside the point.

In context, Jesus words in today’s Gospel are addressed to an audience of Jewish people. It seems necessary to point out these days that Jesus himself is a Jew. Note that Jesus does not answer the question “Will many be saved?” directly.

The Lord doesn’t say whether many or few will ultimately be saved. What He seeks is to bring his questioner and those listening (including you and me) back to their “I,” to a consideration of your own life. His aim isn’t to cultivate self-awareness but to bring about repentance, spark a change in your life and how you live it, to reorient your existence.

His immediate point is that being a member of God’s chosen people, even one who endeavors to observe the 613 mitzvot, is not what brings salvation. In this passage, harmonized as it is with our reading from Isaiah, the Lord indicates that through Him, salvation is open to everyone, even the Gentiles, some of whom will be saved while some in Israel will not! The scandal of this assertion is largely lost on us.

While open to everyone, the road to salvation can only be accessed through “a narrow gate.”¹ Elsewhere in scripture, Jesus says plainly that He is the gate.²

That Jesus is “making his way to Jerusalem” is not a throwaway line intended to contextualize what follows within Luke’s larger narrative. It is a marker on the road to redemption. Luke’s whole narrative shifts a few chapters earlier, toward the end of chapter nine:

When the days for his being taken up were fulfilled, he resolutely determined to journey to Jerusalem³

In the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, & Luke, Jesus journeys to Jerusalem only once.

Reading semi-continuously through Saint Luke’s Gospel during these weeks in Ordinary Time, we journey together with Jesus and His disciples toward Jerusalem. For a Christian, this is nothing other than the pilgrimage of life, making us pilgrims of hope.

By making His way to Jerusalem, Jesus makes His way to the Cross. Only when understood through Christ’s cross does human suffering make any sense. Just as hope lies beyond optimism, eternal life lies beyond the cross. Therefore, the only way to eternal life is through the cross of Christ, which is the narrow gate.

Christ and His Disciples or Breaking the Law, Karoly Marko, 1854

To reject the cross is to reject Christ. This is a bit scary. Saint Paul urged the Christians of Philippi to imitate him and others who embraced Christ’s cross, noting that there are those who “conduct themselves as enemies of the cross of Christ.” He says of these enemies: “Their end is their destruction. Their God is their stomach; their glory is in their ‘shame.’ Their minds are occupied with earthly things.”⁴

Over the past month or so and for the next several weeks, our readings are about discipleship, about what it means to follow Christ. Their aim is to teach us both how to be a disciple as well as the cost of Christian discipleship. At root, a disciple is one who observes the disciplines taught by a master.

Saying discipleship is intentional is like saying circles are round. Hence, Christ has no accidental disciples. A Christian life is a disciplined life. Prayer, fasting, and almsgiving together are the fundamental disciplines taught to us by our Lord Himself. Just as hope joins faith to love, the practice of fasting connects prayer to almsgiving. Practicing these, are the foundation of Christian life.

Practicing these disciplines costs something. Prayer takes time. Fasting requires suppression of bodily desires. Almsgiving requires effort and sacrifice, maybe even doing without something I may want to provide someone else with what they need.

“But, but…,” you might be tempted to say, “the discipline written about in the passage from Hebrews isn’t about the practicing spiritual disciplines!” This passage seems to be about the way God works in and through your life to bring you to Himself, your origin and your destiny. As all of us know, a child who seeks to do right on her own requires less parental discipline.

The best discipline is self-discipline. This is true, too, in God’s household. With God’s help, train your will, recalibrate your thinking. This may mean addressing something very deep: the reorientation of desire. “Our only desire and our one choice should be this,” wrote Saint Ignatius of Loyola in his Spiritual Exercises, “I want and I choose what better leads to God’s deepening life in me.”⁵

Just as a gift not received or refused is of no benefit to the intended recipient, salvation requires not only your cooperation but your desire. Don’t live a life of presumption. According to the Church, presumption is a sin. It is “the condition of a soul that, because of a badly regulated reliance on God’s mercy and power, hopes for salvation without doing anything to deserve it, or for pardon of… sins without repenting of them.”⁶ Jesus tells us the cake of life everlasting is not frosted with a life lived in and for the flesh.

While “fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom,” it’s important to experience for yourself how, through Christ’s cross, “perfect love casts out fear.”⁷ While one can experience this in extraordinary or even mystical ways, the most common way is through the sacrament of penance (i.e., going to confession), the sacraments being ordinary and accessible means of grace.

God desires your salvation. God is never an obstacle to salvation. Christ became human, suffered and died for your salvation. Through the Holy Spirit, He wants to teach you not just that but exactly how, through your particular the circumstances, God seeks to make all things (the good, the bad, and ugly) work together for your good.⁸ By His life, passion, death, and resurrection, He wants you learn to how to use everything to let Him draw you closer.

Contrary to a popular pious platitude, at least at times, God gives you more than you can manage. He allows this so that you learn to rely on Him. This is part of the discipline addressed in the reading from Hebrews: in cooperation with God’s manifold grace, you learn how all things can work together for your good.

As so many saints show us, abandoning yourself to God completely, entrusting yourself to Him entirely, is what gives you the freedom to do God’s will in all circumstances regardless of the cost. This is what it means to enter through the narrow gate of the cross of Christ. This is the way to salvation.

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1 Luke 13:24.^↩
2 John 10:9.^↩
3 Luke 9:51.^↩
4 Philippians 3:17-19.^↩
5 Saint Ignatius of Loyola. Spiritual Exercises, as cited in “How Ignatian Spirituality Gives Us a Way to Discern God’s Will.”^↩
6 “Old” Catholic Encyclopedia (1913), “Presumption,” Vol 12, pg 403.^↩
7 Proverbs 9:10; 1 John 4:18.^↩
8 Romans 8:28.^↩

Hail, Holy Queen

One week following the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Church observes the Memorial of the Queenship of Mary. The Assumption is the fourth Glorious Mystery of Our Lady's Holy Rosary and the her coronation as Queen of Heaven is the fifth and final of those mysteries. The fruit of the fifth Glorious mystery is trust in Mary's intercession.

While it is usual to pray the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary on Friday, because of today's memorial, I am going to pray the Glorious Mysteries. Our Blessed Mother is not only Queen of Heaven, she is Queen of Peace, Mother of the Prince of Peace. The Holy Father has asked the Church to observe today as a day of fasting and prayer for peace in Ukraine and in Gaza. Peace is a lovely Rosary intention. During his Wednesday General Audience, Pope Leo said:

As our world continues to be wounded by wars in the Holy Land, in Ukraine, and in other parts of the world, I invite all the faithful to live the day of Aug. 22 as a day of prayer and fasting, imploring the Lord to grant us peace and justice, and to wipe away the tears of those who suffer because of ongoing armed conflicts,” he said.

“May Mary, Queen of Peace, intercede so that peoples may find the path of peace”

And so we pray,

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour our death. Amen

Our traditio for this special Friday is Salve Regina.

Let us trust today and always in the intercession of Blessed Mother Mary, Queen of Heaven.

Year 1 Monday of the Twentieth Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Judges 2:11-19; Psalm 106:34-37.39-40.43ab.44; Matthew 19:16-22

It helps to know that in the two-year weekday lectionary only the first reading changes year-to-year. This means the Gospel stays the same. While it’s obvious that there is an effort to harmonize these readings, some days they seem better harmonized than others.

I don’t mention this to be pedantic. I think it is useful to know. I also mention this to highlight the link between our first reading today and the Gospel. The first is self-evidently about idolatry. The Gospel, not so self-evidently, is too.

In preaching, we very often go easy on the rich young man. After all, he’s doing the best he can, right? What Jesus tells him at the beginning of His reply bears repeating: “There is only One who is good.”¹ So, the young man’s assertion that he has kept all the commandments, which we have no reason to doubt, doesn’t make him good.

Outward observance is never enough. Means should not be mistaken for ends. What this young man lacks is love, particularly love of God. A few chapters on in Matthew, the Lord tells another of His interlocutors that the first and greatest commandment is “to love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.”² In the end, the young man clearly seems to prefer his “many possessions” to following Christ.

And so, this young man is an idolator. This sounds like a harsh judgment because it is. To soften the blow, it is often pointed out that we don’t know if the young man later changed his mind, that is, repented, sold his many possessions, gave the proceeds to the poor, and followed Christ. In truth, this pericope is pretty self-contained and indicates the young man has made a choice.

While he got some fundamental things very wrong, John Calvin also hit some bullseyes. One such is his statement that “the human mind, so to speak, is a perpetual maker of idols.”³ In other words, the human condition is driven by idolatry.

To bring this down to earth a bit, the fact that we are driven by idolatry is indicated in the Act of Contrition we say (to God) after confessing our sins in the sacrament of penance: “in choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against You, whom I should love above all things.”

Before it is anything else, sin is failure to love God above all things. Stated differently, sin is preferring something, or, as in yesterday’s Gospel, even someone, to God. What Jesus directs the wealthy young man to do is not necessarily what He would tell you or me to do.

Knowing you better than you know yourself, the Lord asks you to give up whatever it is you prefer to following Him. Wealth and possessions may not be your main issue, even if, like the young man in our Gospel, you are quite wealthy. Maybe it’s preferring binge watching to prayer, gluttony to fasting, recreation to serving others- to give just a few general examples.

Christian discipleship comes at a cost. While that cost may seem excessive, what it amounts to in the end is giving up nothing for everything. As Lutheran theologian and pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer noted: “The only man who has the right to say that he is justified by grace alone is the man who has left all to follow Christ.” About those who seek to use grace as an excuse for not following Christ, Bonhoeffer states they “are simply deceiving themselves.”⁴ And this by someone from the sola gratia camp!

If we had a New Testament reading for today, perhaps it would be from the end of the fourth chapter of Saint Paul’s second letter to the Church in ancient Corinth:

For this momentary light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to what is seen but to what is unseen; for what is seen is transitory, but what is unseen is eternal⁵

Yesterday, I was sharing with someone my love of de-motivational posters, like the one that says, “Hard work pays off eventually, but laziness pays off now.” Riffing off that, maybe we can say, “Discipleship pays off in the long run, but idolatry pays off now.” Like ancient Israel, like the rich young man, we have a choice to make.

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1 Matthew 19:17.^↩
2 Matthew 22:37-38.^↩
3 John Calvin. Institutes of the Christian Religion, I.11.8.^↩
4 Dietrich Bonhoeffer. The Cost of Discipleship, revised ed., New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1963, pg 55.^↩
5 2 Corinthians 4:17-18.^↩

Fire on the earth

Readings: Jeremiah 36-4-6.8-10; Psalm 40:2-4.18; Hebrews 12:1-4; Luke 12:49-53

In observance of the twentieth anniversary of my little deacon blog, today's reflection on the Sunday readings is pretty short. Like our recent readings warning us against putting our hope in worldly wealth, today's Gospel is equally stirring and provocative. Homiletically, we like to attenuate, that is, soft pedal these difficult readings. It seems to me that the easier a teaching of Jesus is to understand the harder it is to live by.

First, following Christ comes at a cost. For some, it's very expensive!

The second is a corollary: following Jesus isn't always easy-peasy. Obedience to God means being faithful to God, which, in turn, requires you to put Him before and above all other people and things, including, if necessary, the closest members of your family. For Christians, water is thicker than blood.

Jeremiah in the cistern

Jeremiah experienced what it means to put God above all things more than once. In today's first reading, the prophet's fidelity to God looked like infidelity to his people and his country. And so, he was thrown into a cistern, landing in the mud. His rescue was far from miraculous. My friends, there is a cost.

In his book The Cost of Discipleship, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote: "Jesus is the only significance. Beside Jesus nothing has any significance. He alone matters." Far from being sentimental gibberish, this is a radical statement.

It has been noted Jesus + nothing= everything. Do you believe it? Like all worthwhile spiritual teachers, Bonhoeffer is a witness, one of those who comprise the ever growing cloud of witnesses. He didn't just write about but paid the cost of following Jesus Christ.

The Lord Jesus Christ took on flesh to set a fire on the earth. To shake things up. To change things by changing people through the power of the Holy Spirit.

True peace, lasting peace, the peace that passes all understanding is realized by following Christ. Our reading from the marvelous Letter to the Hebrews provides us an insight on this very thing: "For the sake of the joy that lay before him, [Jesus] endured the cross, despising its shame." Joy is the overcoming of sorrow.

Therefore, turning to Hebrews again, "let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us and persevere in running the race that lies before us while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith."

Twenty years of blogging here

It was 20 years ago today, 16 August 2005, that I first began this effort. I logged into the computer located in the office I shared with the parochial vicar in the rectory of The Cathedral of the Madeleine and started on a Tuesday afternoon. This blog first bore the title Scott Dodge for Nobody. I cribbed that name from a Sunday night radio program on local community radio (i.e., Tom Waits for Nobody).

As accustomed as I have become to using it, the verb "blogging" is bad enough. Therefore, I will resist celebrating my twentieth "blogiversary." How's that for backhanded?

My first post was "Intelligent Design- Religion & Politics." Over the next twelve days, this was followed by five more posts along these same lines. I had no idea what I was doing other than writing about something that had my attention at the time.

I won't forget how amazed I was at the ease of starting a blog and transmitting what I wrote to the "world wide web," as it was called much more frequently then than it is now. Such a capability is now so normal that the wonder and awe I felt 20 years ago seems naïve if not a bit stupid. Nonetheless, it remains a mind blowing experience for me. I was also intimidated.

I felt intimidated because I didn't think I had anything to write that was worth anyone's time. And so, after those five intial posts, I posted nothing until "How Occasional?" on 19 July 2006. It was then that I renamed my blog Καθολικός διάκονος. It was with that post that I began blogging in earnest.

While I was ordained in January 2004, my blogging is roughly coterminus with becoming a deacon. Since my earnest commencement (i.e., 2006), I have felt this to be part of ministry. Bear in mind that "ministry" is another word for service or diakonia. Perhaps this at least partly explains why, 20 years later, I'm still at it.

I care deeply about what I post. I don't aim to be spectacular or novel. Since this a labor of love, I don't have to be controversial or over-the-top to gain readers. As those who've read this blog for years know, I have wandered down a couple of paths before turning around. Even those By God's grace, were not fruitless forays. More and more I am realizing Eugene Peterson's wisdom in insisting that following Christ is "a long obedience in the same direction."

From 2007-2015, I blogged like a madman! I wrote about anything and everything. But I enjoyed it and learned a lot. Frankly, it was one of the best educational experiences I've ever had. Those were heady days.

There have been valleys, too. 2018 was the first time my blogging waned significantly. During both 2023 and 2024 I slowed down a lot. As readers know, after Easter last year I seriously considered folding up this virtual tent and calling it good.

One of the things that kept me from quitting last year was the thought of this anniversary. "One more year and some change," I thought, "until I reach a full two decades." What made me decide not only to continue but to rededicate myself to cultivating this little cyber space is the enjoyment and satifaction I derive from doing so. I like it. And last year, after awhile of not doing it, I missed it.

Since rejuvenating this blog last October, I have taken to deleting some short, kind of weird posts written during my overly prolific days of blogging. I don't go hunting for such posts. But as these pop up in the normal course of things, I schwack them. None of these are substantial contributions. It's easy to forget that for years this was my primary and even my only social media platform.

I have to say, the idea of reaching 20 years of blogging in earnest next summer is a driver for me to continue. It's also nice to be indefinite about blogging. I have no idea how long I might continue. I've poured a lot my heart and soul into this. As a result, I've grown tremendously. Writing publicly also serves as kind of grounding function as well as a reality check at times.

Back in the late oughts and early teens, blogging was all the rage. It seems like everyone had a blog. My start was likely the result of wanting to join in. Well, join I did! While it was cutting edge then, both my format and the platform I use are now what are politely called legacy.

I remember when Wordpress came on the scene and that became all the rage, supplanting Blogger, which had already been purchased by Google. I considered moving over to that platform. I even went so far as to set everything up there with the title Diaconal Digressions.

I can easily recall when paying platforms started: BeliefNet, Patheos, Aleteia, et al. at the height of this craze, I was nearly lured over to one of these. But, like switching to Wordpress, it didn't feel right. Now, of course, there is Substack.

For better or for worse, here I've stayed. Here I plan to stay until blogging days are done.

"A great sign appeared in heaven"

For those ofus who still abstain on Fridays, even in places where it is not obligatory, a Friday Solemnity is a nice thing. Even where Friday abstinence is obligatory (i.e., England and Wales, etc.), Friday solemnities abrogate that obligation. So, have a steak or cheeseburger and enjoy it today.

The Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary is probably my favorite holy day. Called her "Dormition" ("going to sleep") in the East, this observance is a fairly ancient one. It is observed in West and the East on the same day. One issue about our Blessed Mother's being bodily assumed into heaven is whether she died and was then taken up or whether she was taken up without dying.

Assumption of Mary, Rubens, ca. 1626

Among Roman Catholics, the most supportable position is that the Blessed Virgin Mary died and was bodily assumed into heaven. As a result, her body did not decay. This is position is not a dogmatic one. In his Apostolic Constitution Munificentissimus Deus, promulgated 1 November 1950, in which he infallibly declared Mary's Assumption as a dogma of the faith, Pope Pius XII, while clearly leaning toward the position that she first died, does not make that de fide.

It also bears noting that since the First Vatican Council's definition of papal infallibility in 1870 with the Dogmatic Constitution Pastor Aeternus, there has only been one infallible declaration, a singluar extraordinary exercise of the papal magisterium, which is found in Munificentissimus Deus. Prior to Vatican I, Pope Pius IX infallibly declared the Blessed Virgin Mary's Immaculate Conception in 1854 with Ineffabilis Deus, .

In Munificentissimus Deus, Pope Pius XII, by "the authority of our Lord Jesus Christ, of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul," and on his own authority,

pronounce, declare, and define it to be a divinely revealed dogma: that the Immaculate Mother of God, the ever Virgin Mary, having completed the course of her earthly life, was assumed body and soul into heavenly glory (sec. 44)

Upon being so assumed, she was crowned as Queen of Heaven. Therefore, one week after the celebrating the solemnity of her assumption, the Church observes the Memorial of the Queenship of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

Our traditio for today's Solemnity is the Introit for the Mass of the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Signum Magnum (i.e., "A Great Sign").

Memorial of Saint Clare

Readings: Deuteronomy 10:12-22; Psalm 147:12-15.19-20; Matthew 17:22-27

Today is the Memorial of Saint Clare. She was the close companion of Saint Francis of Assisi. They had a very special and unique relationship. Clare was the first woman to practice the life of entire poverty as taught by Saint Francis.

It was Francis who made her the prioress of a few women in a small convent at San Damiano. She remained head of that community until her death forty-two years later. And so, she is credited as the foundress of the contemplative Order of Poor Clares, which exists to this day.

At the time of its implementation, the Rule adhered to by the Poor Clares consisted of austerities and penitential practices previously unknown in monasteries of women. They went barefoot, slept on the ground, kept perpetual abstinence (i.e., were effectively vegans) and made poverty the basis of their lives. We observe Clare’s memorial today because it was on 11 August 1253 that she died.

Remarkably Clare, whose name in Italian is Chiara, meaning “light,” was canonized two short years after her death. Even in the days prior to the Church's current canonical process for sainthood this was remarkably quick. In the old Breviary it was noted:

Following the example of St. Francis, she distributed all her possessions among the poor. She fled from the noise of the world and betook herself to a country chapel, where St. Francis himself sheared off her hair and clothed her with a penitential garb (this happened on 18 March 1212, when she was just eighteen)

Our Gospel today picks up the theme we’ve been exploring the last few Sundays, namely the eternal unimportance of worldly wealth and status. Saint Clare certainly lived this most of her life in this awareness.

In our Gospel, Jesus telling of His own passion and the incident of finding in the fish the coin for the Temple tax are not unrelated. Both express what, in the end truly matters: to live for God, as a citizen of God’s kingdom. And doing so in full realization that this often makes us strangers and foreigners in this transient world.

Our reading from Deuteronomy states it well because it is in the form of a question:

what does the LORD, your God, ask of you but to fear the LORD, your God, and follow his ways exactly, to love and serve the LORD, your God, with all your heart and all your soul, to keep the commandments and statutes of the LORD which I enjoin on you today for your own good? (Deut 10:12-13)

Often the trouble is recognizing that living and serving God with your whole being is how you realize the good you seek because the passing allure of this world is enticing.

Especially in our culture, it is easy to think “I can have it all!” But following God requires making choices. These are different for each of us. The essence of being a Christian is discerning and then doing God’s will. Saint Ignatius of Loyola described three kinds of people: “the postponer, the compromiser, and the free person” (Taken from Tim Muldoon, "Three Kinds of People")

A postponer has some interest in imitating Christ but thinks there are more important things. By contrast, a compromiser, while at times following Christ, places conditions on God- this person can’t really bring her/himself to trust God. Finally, the truly free person is the one who, knowing God’s will, freely and unconditionally does it. In doing so experiences not only true freedom but genuine happiness.

It is probably not the case that God is calling you or me to the same vocation to which He called Saint Clare. Then again, especially for younger people, He might. To rule something out a priori is to fall into being a postponer. As Pope Saint John Paul II taught, there is only one vocation. We all received it at Baptism: follow Christ no matter one's state of life.

No matter what God calls you to, it requires some sacrifice. And so, the question we all must face is “Am I willing to make the sacrifices heeding God’s call requires me to make to answer His call?”

Be "a faithful and prudent servant," like Saint Lawrence

Readings: Wis 18:6-9; Ps 33:1.12.18-22; Heb 11:1-2.8-19; Luke 12:32-48

In the wake of Pope Benedict XVI's resignation in 2013, Italian philospher, Giorgio Agamben, whose work very much informs my political perspective, wrote what basically amounts to a pamphlet: The Mystery of Evil: Benedict XVI and the End of Days. In this short treatise, Agamben notes something that Heidegger noted early on in his own philosophical career that resulted from his deep dive into Saint Paul's first letter to the Christians in ancient Thessaloniki, namely that over the course of two millenia, Christians have lost our sense of eschatological urgency.

Yet, each Sunday we profess in the Creed, be it the Nicene or Apostles Creed, that Christ will return to judge the living and the dead. Rooted as it is in divine revelation, this is a dogma of Christian faith. As a result, as Jesus teaches into today's Gospel, how we live in the meantime matters. "Christ has died. Christ is Risen. Christ will come again." We are not meant to just mark time.

It is easy to fall into a worldly perspective and live for this life only. Inevitably and without exception, this life ends, which is what makes living exclusively for time and disregrading eternity so dangerous.

Money, possessions, power, and status aren't the measure of a person. You really can't take it with you, as Jesus' parable from last Sunday powerfully and simply demonstrated. Status and power matter, at least how one who has them wields them does. It can mean the difference between being rewarded for using them prudently and wisely, that is, charitably and only being beaten lightly or being beaten severely.

It is not God's desire to punishment anyone. Rather, as Jesus intimates in our Gospel, it is the Father's pleasure "to give you the kingdom." But, at the end of the day, your heart is where your treasure is. It isn't so much that God denies you the kingdom as you saying to God, "No thanks." As C.S. Lewis wrote:

There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, “Thy will be done,” and those to whom God says, in the end, “Thy will be done” (C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce (1946; rprt. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2001), 75)

The Basilica of Saint Lawrence outside-the-Walls (i.e., San Lorenzo fuori le mura), 18th century engraving by Giuseppe Vasi

As a deacon, I can't help but mention that in years when 10 August does not fall on a Sunday (i.e., most every year), the Feast of Saint Lawrence is observed universally. Along with Saint Stephen and Saint Francis of Assisi, Saint Lawrence is one of the Church's greatest deacons. Lawrence lived his entire life in the third century (AD 225-258).

Saint Lawrence gives us a lively example of what the Lord teaches in today's Gospel. Ordained a deacon at 32 by Pope Sixtus II, Lawrence was quickly named Archdeacon of Rome. The archdeacon was first among the seven deacons who served in the cathedral church. Archdeacon was a position of that came with status, power, and control of the Church's treasury. As such, Lawrence was charged with distributing alms to the poor. By all accounts he was honest, diligent, and caring in the exercise of his office.

In August 258, the Roman emperor Valerian issued and edict that all bishops, priests, and deacons should be put to death. on 6 August, Pope Sixtus II was arrested while celebrating the liturgy and executed. After the execution of Sixtus, the prefect of Rome demanded that Lawrence turn over all the Church's wealth to the emperor. Lawrence asked the perfect for three days to gather up the riches to be handed over.

On the third day, Lawrence led a delegation and presented himself to the Roman prefect. Immediately, the prefect demanded that Lawerence hand over the Church's treasure. Lawerence then proceeded to 'hand over" the Church's treasures: the city's indigent, crippled, blind, and suffering. He did so with these words: "Here are the treasures of the church. You see, the church is truly rich, far richer than your emperor!"

This brazen act led to Lawrence's arrest and execution. While it almost certain that in accordance with Valerian's order, Lawrence, along with Sixtus and all other members of the Roman clergy who arrested and executed, was decapitated, the legend of him being roasted on a gridiron persists. Part of this legend is Lawrence taunting his Roman executioners by telling them they could turn him over because he was done on one side.

The Basilica of Saint Lawrence Outside the Walls is one of five papal basilicas in Rome. The basilica stands on the site of Saint Lawrence's grave, where the Emperor Constantine built a small oratory early in the fourth century. Later, during that same century, Pope Damasus I, who had served as a deacon at the original oratory, restored and/or rebuilt this edifice. Pope Pelagius II built a church on the site in the 580s.

Most recently, the basilica was bombed in 1943 during World War II and rebuilt by 1948. Five popes are buried in San Lorenzo fuori le mura, the most of recent of whom is Pope Pius IX (a.k.a., Pio Nono), who called and presided over the First Vatican Ecumenical Council in 1870. He died in 1878.

"Child of God sitting in the sun, giving peace of mind"

As one might imagine, over the past few weeks there has been an explosion of articles about the religious overtones and undertones of the music of Black Sabbath and, to a greater degree, of Ozzy Osbourne’s solo career. Dr. David Bonagura's "A Rocker and a Doctor Meet in Birmingham," which I read on Catholic Culture, is one of the best I've read. I love the juxtaposition of Newman and Osbourne. I also love using juxtapose!

Saint John Henry Newman

I’d like to dig a little deeper, not to rebut but to contextualize.

The first Sabbath song Bonagura mentions is 'After Forever’. This is a track off their third studio album, Master of Reality. As was the case with many of the band’s songs, the lyrics for ‘After Forever’ were composed by Geezer Butler, the band's bassist. Many of Butler’s Sabbath lyrics were deeply influenced by his Catholicism. Ozzy’s Mom was Catholic. While he was raised largely unchurched, he recalled fondly memories he had of Anglican Sunday School when very young.

Bob Daisely wrote almost all the lyrics to 'I Don't Know,' with Ozzy adding the lyrics, "You have to believe in foolish miracles." In other words, he sang someone else's words. It was Butler who also wrote the lyrics to 'Paranoid,' which was produced as a "3-minute filler."

Randy Rhoades, who in his brief career with Ozzy’s original band, which ended with his early accidental death, was one of the greatest guitarists of all-time, was described by his brother as "a devout Lutheran." Rhoades funeral was held at First Lutheran Church of Burbank, CA, which is a Missouri Synod church.

I think the short article, which is not intended as a deep dive, is very good in what in communicates: “The Catholic Church has honored Newman in the hope that men and women experiencing the turmoil that Ozzy lived may overcome it with the aid of the saint’s assured writings.” I have to mention that I would belong to the Church were it not for the writings of this saint and soon-to-be Doctor of the Church.

As to the mundane assertion made by Ozzy, of course one doesn't have to go to church in order to believe in God. Christians go to Church because they believe God took human flesh in the person of Jesus Christ. One observation is in order, it’s easier to follow a god of one’s making, a god who shares all of one’s views, suc a belief or nothing of the believer.

Writing about faithful critics of the Church, meaning ones who are in the Church, theologian Karl Rahner, s/he

knows that the Church, ultimately, is not merely a … religious organization satisfying people’s needs but … the community which believes that Jesus Christ, the crucified and risen one, is God’s irrevocable promise to us. Of what great importance is angers with pastors, bishops, possibly even the papacy, when one knows that in this Church … as nowhere else, in life and death, one can hold on to Jesus, the trusted witness of the eternal God

Our traditio, then, is Black Sabbath's "Spiral Architect" of their fifth studio album, Sabbath Bloody Sabbath album.

Don't be fooled

Readings: Eccl 1:2.2:21-23; Ps 90:3-6.12-14.17; Col 3:1-5.9-11; Luke 12:13-21

What I love about the period the Church spends in Ordinary Time between Corpus Christi and Advent is reading in a semi-continuous way through whichever of the Synoptic Gospels is the focus of that year. Being in Year C of the Sunday Lectionary, we are reading through the Gospel According to Saint Luke. In chapter nine, verse fifty-one, which marks the end of the Lord's Galilean ministry, Jesus "resolutely" determines that He is going to Jerusalem. And so, Luke takes us on a journey with Jesus and His disciples.

This journey narrative is the heart of the Luke's Gospel. Being harmonized with our reading from Ecclesiastes, today's Gospel sets forth the foolishness of making one's life about the acquisition of riches. Often, the pursuit of riches starts with the idea that attaining a certain level of wealth equals security. This then easily morphs into the acquisition and hoarding of wealth for it's own sake. It can even lead to the realization that wealth is a source of power.

Jesus and Qoheleth (the preacher of Ecclesiastes) both demonstrate in rather down-to-earth terms that security does not and cannot come from wealth. Qoheleth simply points out that acquiring is wealth is stressful. It eats up all your bandwidth and even deprives you of sleep. All for what? To leave all that you've spent your life in the service of to someone else? Ecclesiastes is likely the most existential book in all of Sacred Scripture.

Jesus mines this same vein. The self-satisfied man who has accumulated so much wealth that he needs to construct bigger barns in which to store it so that he can relax and enjoy himself will die the very night he sets forth his plan. Talk about futility! Apart from noting that Jesus'culture was not primarily a cash culture, like ours, the point of these two readings doesn't require much gloss or explanation. Sure, we can tell more updated stories but the moral remains the same.

Elsewhere in scripture we read not that money is evil- in and of itself it is a neutral means of exchange- but that "the love of money is the root of all evils" (1 Tim 6:10). Our current cultural and political situation graphically shows us this every day. Instead of envying the very rich, we should take the lesson from today's scriptures to heart. Sadly, the typical Christian response to this very straightforward teaching often starts with "But". It isn't pleasant to be provoked.

I'll be honest, as I am in within a few years of retiring from my secular career, I find myself thinking about and worrying about money way too much. All too easily, no amount of money seems too much because I want to be safe and secure, to eat, drink, and be merry. Sometimes money seems a better bet than God- though I am not supposed to say that out loud let alone write it down. This isn't to say things like retirement planning, having some savings, etc. are evil things. It is to say that they can easily become all-consuming, crowding out what should really matter.

It is in our reading from Colossians that we find the cure for what ails us. Among those things we are to mortify (i.e., "Put to death") are "evil desire" and "the greed that is idolatry" (Colossians 3:5). Wealth is more often than not a wellspring of vice. As Jesus teaches in Saint Matthew's Gospel, what you value is not only where your heart is but it's what you place your hope in. Vanity is deadly. What Qoheleth means by "vanity" is futility. The pursuit of wealth, of pleasure, of power are all futile in the end.

The evil and deeply disturbing push towards transhumanism is a result of this. Death entered the world because we wanted (and still want) to usurp God and be masters of ourselves and of the world. Rather than trust in Christ's overcoming death by His Resurrection, we seek to overcome death through capital investment in technology. By means of these technologies, making ourselves machines, our consciousness reduced to a data set.

Theologically we insist that likeness to God is lost through sin and can be restored by grace but the image of God every person bears is ineradicable. When faced with the dystopia toward which we are hurling ourselves at warp speed, I wonder if there will come a point at which this supposed ineradicability needs to be called into question.

So, if today you hear God's voice in the proclamation of these scriptures, harden not your heart. Learn to number your days rightly so as to gain wisdom of heart. Don't forget, your days are numbered. Memento mori is an important spiritual practice.

"Either way it's okay..."

Friendships are interesting. No two are the same. These relationships are so varied, which is what makes them kind of amazing. At least for me, friendships are difficult to sustain over time. This often isn't the result of a lack of effort. Friendships are, in a word, fragile.

A lot of my Friday posts have become quite personal, which is something new for me. I hardly see my life as instructive for me, let alone anyone else. But my reason for "getting" personal is what I would describe as confessional, not pedagogical. This is somewhat reminiscent of "A dream and making sense of reality" from last December.

"I was going to text you tomorrow," replies a friend who months ago stopped texting (texting to stay in touch- part of the problem, no doubt). This is followed by, "Can I get back you later?" "Yeah sure," knowing this won't happen. After several of these kinds of exchanges it becomes apparent that this person really doesn't want to communicate anymore. A final text- "As you wish," thus offloading the issue back onto you.

Considered from a distance, it's a predictable trajectory. There's the the inevitable question, "What happened?" Honestly, it's usually not a question worth asking.

It's all okay. Almost nothing lasts forever. The world is a transitory place. I need to work on being grateful (graceful) for whatever fruit friendships bear while they last. I admit, this is very hard for me. I tend to hold on to things, to cling to them really, especially people and things I am fond of. Most of the time, the fruit of holding on too tightly is bitterness and resentment, being in a state of loss.

"Oh well" is a phrase I use a lot these days. I mean it when I say it both to myself and to others. Security is found in what lasts. Last night, I watched a short video by Ralph Martin. It's not about his recent firing from Sacred Heart Seminary in Detroit. The title of his video is "Who Will Remember Us?" Watching this gave me solace.

Ralph's video made me think that perhaps I should replace "Oh well" with "It's alright." But a sincerely meant "It's alright." A lot of life, including spiritual life, is making peace with reality, being okay with what happens good, bad, or indifferent. Reality is rarely if ever how/what I want it to be. What's more no one else cares that reality doesn't bend to my desires. Even more, they don't have to and it's probably better that they don't. Getting to that sincerely felt "It's alright" is a struggle.

Martin is the founder and president of Renewal Ministries. Renewal is a Catholic charismatic organization. One overlooked feature of the charismatic renewal is the kind of simple teaching Martin's video contains. This amounts to an emphasis of not losing sight of the purpose of my life. Keeping my end ever in mind is what enables me to navigate my way through. I am reminded this morning of the medieval morality play The Summoning of Everyman (the link is to God's speech at the beginning of the play).

On a tangential note, in the end, Beatrices usually turn out to be Dulcineas.

It's August, if you can believe it! 1 August is the Memorial of Saint Alphonsus Ligori, who is a Doctor of the Church. He is primarily known for his teaching about the complexities of morality. Yesterday it was announced that Saint John Henry Newman is going to be made a Doctor of the Church. Without Newman, I would not be Catholic. Somewhere Muriel Spark, too, is smiling.

I would like to post a performance of Elgar's musical setting of Newman's "Dream of Gerontius" but a traditio lasting more than ninety minutes kind of violates the medium. So, as a tribute to my inabilty to take a more mature view of the transitoriness of life's vicissitude, I am going with Billy Joel's "Leave Me Alone." I choose it a bit tongue in cheek.