Prayer: Making our words match our hearts

I came across an article today in the Christian Post that discussed the first of a scheduled seven of Pastor Francis Chan's BASIC series. In this installment Chan is talking about praying. He addresses head-on why so many prayers go unanswered, finding the answer in the Scriptures- it's amazing what you find in holy writ when you read it: "You do not have, because you do not ask. You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions. You adulterous people! Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God?" (James 4:2b-4a ESV)

Chan compares his prayers with those of Jesus' earliest followers: "As I look at the way the disciples prayed back then and as I look at the way Jesus taught us to pray, I realize it’s a lot different from what I was taught. Prayer to them was really different, they asked for things that were different from what I typically asked for." His focus on the prayer of Jesus' earliest disciples made me call-to-mind the beginning of this year's Communion & Liberation Spiritual Exercises. The theme, or focus, of the exercises "Whoever Is In Christ Is A New Creation", taken from St. Paul's Second Letter to the Corinthians: "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come" (5:17 ESV).

At the very beginning of the Exercises, Fr. Carrón urged us to "try to identify with the disciples after Easter." Asking, "What prevailed in their hearts, in their eyes, in their self-awareness, if not His living presence?" Indeed, what prevailed in their hearts was Christ's presence and, Fr. Carrón insisted, His presence "was so evident for them that they could not rip it away." Fr. Carrón asked, "Who of us would not desire such intensity of life?" Presumably, no one, at least nobody bothering to listen to people like Francis Chan and Julían Carrón. "But if we compare what the disciples experienced that week of Easter with what we have lived," Carrón continued, "we would all acknowledge the distance, the abysmal distance that separates us from the experience they had. This also holds for participation in the Liturgy: for them it was the moment of recognizing Him (their eyes were opened and they recognized Him), and for us it is often reduced to rite."

While Chan sees in James' letter the answer to the question, "Why prayers go unanswered," it is the Lord's Prayer that gives us not just a model of prayer, but speaks volumes about the content of prayer. He notes how we just say this prayer, without knowing what we are saying, or really, at least more often that we'd probably care to admit, without caring.

What he says is convicting. I was struck by his take on the phrase "lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil": “Haven’t you prayed that at times in your life when you were actually still were holding on to some temptation? Maybe you weren’t even ready to let go of all of your sin and yet you’re saying it. It’s like your words weren’t matching up to your heart.” I have and quite recently. As a matter of fact, as recently as last night.

While preaching and exhortation can always use some theological tweaking and improvement, I think what Pastor Chan is proposing here is sound. It is a proposal, maybe even a provocation. It is something that can be verified by experience. Consider this question asked by Chan- "Maybe we haven't seen... His power because we haven't been praying for the things that He wanted us to pray for." Like the early disciples, we too can experience Christ as "something happening" to us. As Fr. Carrón asserted, for the His first followers, Jesus "was not a doctrine, a list of things to do, a sentiment. Yes, He was an external presence, different, but one that permeated their life."

To add a thought of mine own, it seems that maybe God changes us, that is, our hearts, through prayer and then sends us to change the world- just a thought.

You can watch the entire segment, which is about 15 minutes long, on the Relevant website. I also recommend Francis' short and powerful book, Crazy Love: Overwhelmed by a Relentless God.

Mass: A brief Tuesday consideration

For what it's worth I am posting the concluding passage of a Liturgy paper I wrote several years back for a graduate course. My topic was. Why Go to Mass? In addition to improbably citing Nehemiah (who'da thought?), I also (again!) allude to Timothy Radcliffe's What Is the Point of Being a Christian? Additionally, I refer to some class notes from my professor, Msgr. Michael Clay and cite a passage from Msgr. Kevin Irwin's fantastic book, Models of the Eucharist. As with my post yesterday, the paragraph below is part of the conclusion of this paper, which centered on answering this question for young adults. In now way is my answer comprehensive. It was designed as a presentation to give young adults.

Why go to Mass? Indeed, we acknowledge that all creation is infused with the divine! Nonetheless, just as God became incarnate as a particular human being at a certain time and in a specific place, Christ is present in the eucharistic liturgy in a unique way. Christ is really present in the eucharistic liturgy in four distinct ways, two of which we have covered extensively. Allow me to paraphrase something I have heard now-Archbishop George Niederauer say many times, especially to young adults: As Catholics it is not the case that we have to go to Mass. Rather, we get to go to Mass. What Fr. Radcliffe observes may very well be true, that our eucharistic assemblies often lack a sense of mutual rejoicing. But, before we can rejoice we must find joy in the first place. Where do we find joy, in whom do we find joy? Our faith tells us that our joy is Christ who becomes present through us, in the person of the priest, in the proclamation his word, and, completing the circle, in the bread and wine, which we eat and drink and by which we are transformed. The author of the Book of Nehemiah tells Israel as they prepare to begin worshipping God in the divinely prescribed manner after exile, rejoicing in the LORD is our strength (Nehemiah 8:10). How we approach the sacred mysteries enacted in liturgy also matters. What do we see as the point, purpose, or reason for gathering and celebrating liturgy?

So much of what young adults do, either in your chosen vocations or in a voluntary manner, is aimed at making the world a better place. Many of these efforts do a great deal of good in the community and in the world. Sometimes the Church can be quite disappointing in this regard. We must remember that we are now “’the pilgrim church on earth’” and “not the fully united and perfectly sinless bride of Christ” (Irwin 86). This why your presence and mine are so needed at Mass, to help God’s pilgrim people arrive at our destination. We must keep in mind that “The purpose of the Eucharist is not primarily to change bread and wine but change you and me” (Clay "Liturgy and Spirituality" 4). You and I, in turn, are sent forth to change the world, or at least the part of it in which we find ourselves.

Short posts this week due to making final revisions on my Integrated Pastoral Research paper, known in some circles as a thesis.

Jesus: A brief Monday consideration

For what it's worth I am posting the concluding passage of a Christology paper I wrote several years back for my graduate Christology class. The topic was Did Jesus of Nazareth Know He Was Divine? The works I cite in this passage are Elizabeth Johnson's Consider Jesus: Waves of Renewal in Christology and Raymond Brown's An Introduction to New Testament Christology. I was limited to using these two assigned texts for the course. There were, of course, other assigned texts, like O'Collins seminal work.

Because theology is largely synthetic and biblical scholarship is predominantly analytic, it is fitting to look theologically at the ministry of Jesus of Nazareth, which is made known to us primarily by the canonical Gospels, through the lens of biblical scholarship. “From the way Jesus talked about God and enacted the reign of God, it is obvious that he had a special and original experience of God...” (Johnson 57). It is the originality of Jesus’ experience of God that points us toward his divinity. Many use Jesus’ reference to God as Abba as the premiere example of the originality of his relationship to God. However, there is some controversy concerning whether the Aramaic term Abba is really “a babble word,” equivalent in meaning to “papa” and “dada” (57). In the Gospels the word Abba is only transliterated into Greek once, in Mark 14:36 (Brown 86). It is not until around AD 200 that the term abba replaces abi as a child’s manner of addressing her father (86).

Jesus "advanced a little and fell to the ground and prayed that if it were possible the hour might pass by him; he said, 'Abba, Father, all things are possible to you. Take this cup away from me, but not what I will but what you will'" (Mark 14:35-36) Taken from Mark's account of our Lord's prayer in the garden of Gethsemane.

Gaudete Sunday: "The Lord is near"

"Rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say it again: rejoice! Your kindness should be known to all. The Lord is near" (Phil. 4:4-5).

Today is the Third Sunday of Advent. The Third Sunday of Advent is called Gaudete Sunday. "Gaudete" means "Rejoice" in Latin. The name for today is taken from the introit for the Mass, which comes from the fourth chapter of St. Paul's Letter to the Philippians, verses 4-5. It is the Sunday we light the rose candle on our Advent wreaths.

Personally I see the Third Sunday of Advent as a kind of turning point in the season, the time I begin to focus more on the Savior's birth in Bethlehem. However, intimations, hints, and explicit acknowledgments continue to keep before me the necessity of being prepared to meet Him, which strikes me as the almost exclusive focus of the first half of Advent. It is safe to say that Advent is the most complex of the liturgical seasons, thus requiring us to hold things in tension, which is a good summary of the Christian life. As the late liturgical scholar Mark Searle observed, "tension creates energy." Nonetheless, in season and out, in good times and in bad, we are to rejoice in the Lord always.

Our second reading for today is taken again from St. Paul's First Letter to the Thessalonians. In this letter, too, the apostle urges us, "Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. In all circumstances give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus." Our second reading concludes with the apostle's reassurance, "The one who calls you is faithful,and he will also accomplish it." It is the Lord's fidelity that is the source of our joy. We can also look to the next verse of the fourth chapter of Philippians, "Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God."

In a word, pray. Advent is only half-way gone. If you have managed to sucked into the swirling vortex of "the holiday season" all is not lost. Start today by going somewhere quiet and spending time in the presence of God, or go for a walk and pray a rosary. The possibility for prayer is always there, it's just a matter of our seizing it.

Archbishop Martin on acting in accord with conscience

In a recently-filmed documentary, the archbishop of Dublin, the very courageous and faithful Diarmuid Martin, tells lapsed Catholics to go ahead and leave, well sorta. In the film he says, "It requires maturity on those people who want their children to become members of the church community and maturity on those people who say 'I don't believe in God and I really shouldn't be hanging on to the vestiges of faith when I don't really believe in it.'" He also talks about the necessity of the Church breaking ties with some Catholic schools, the ones that are not really Catholic. On my view, such schools are not merely neutral, but are often antithetical to faith.

Be discerning in how you read accounts of this story, how the story is spun. Like Archbishop Michael Sheehan's pastoral letter on marriage, which he promulgated in the Archdiocese of Santa Fe earlier this year, there will be many whose responses will range from, "How rude!" to those who will claim Archbishop Martin's comments are un-pastoral. When it comes these matters I have no problem playing the contrarian because groupthink and lazy assumptions sometimes reign even in the Church.

Diarmuid Martin is a truthful, loving pastor. He is urging people to act in accord with their consciences, not kicking people out. He was the lone voice among the Irish episcopate calling his fellow bishops to account and, in some cases, to resign because of their mishandling and, in a few instances, complicity with the great sex abuse scandal. Pastorally-speaking maybe it takes losing what you take for granted in order to desire it. If not, then at least your life ceases to be make-believe. In any case, if we believe what we do in Baptism, better yet, what God is doing and asking of us (which belief I doubt in many cases all around, faith being reduced to sentimentality), we are setting people up for the ultimate failure by having them make promises to God they have no intention of keeping. Being mature means living with integrity, which certainly requires one to act in accord with one's conscience.

Archbishop Diarmuid Martin of Dublin

It seems to me the question for those who take offense at what Archbishop Martin is saying is, "Do you believe?" If so, "Is it an act of charity to be facilitator for people acting against their consciences before God?" If, on consideration of the true nature of the sacraments, especially Baptism and Matrimony (Holy Communion doesn't present much of a problem for the reason discussed by Archbishop Martin, namely people don't tend to present themselves for it that often, but when they do the same problem persists), we discern the deficiency of our deeply ingrained pastoral practice, do those of us who at our ordinations pledged to be good stewards of the Sacred Mysteries think that we will not only be held accountable, but more accountable?

In the wake of the great Irish sex abuse scandal, which has caused so much animosity between Eire and the Holy See, Archbishop Martin, in his Easter homily back in 2010, noted, "The two factors which bring about a change in the attitude of the early disciples were their great love for Jesus and their willingness to be guided by the spirit to rightly interpret the scriptures." A bit later in the homily he asked, "But what of those who love the Church? How do we overcome our disgust and shame for the sins of Christians?" Answering his own question, he goes to say,

The sins of the Church can well be exposed by the spotlight of the media; but the Church will be converted, renewed and reformed only when it allows the light of Christ to inspire it and guide it. It is the light of Christ which will show the real significance of the darkness that has slipped into our lives. The light of Christ will expose the sins of Christians but the light of Christ does not abandon us naked and alone in the exposure of our shame and sin. The light of Christ heals, it leads; there is no way we can switch off or dim that part of the light that exposes the sad realities of the past; there is no way we should switch off or dim the light that can open the path to a new future. No generation is too sophisticated not to need the light of Christ; no generation is too sophisticated not to be able to comprehend that light and what it can bring to society

I see in his undoubtedly controversial and provocative comment the same determination, making him, at least to me, an admirable shepherd. In order to speak the truth in love, you must first speak the truth. It follows, to speak the truth means knowing and accepting it, perhaps even despite some uncertainties. Loving others by loving their destiny means trusting God totally. This also means recognizing that Christ's Church is no mere earthly and voluntaristic association, but Christ's Bride, with all that entails.

I give a deep diaconal bow to my dear friend and brother deacon Greg Kandra, author of The Deacon's Bench, for bringing the Irish Independent article to my attention.

Pledging troth, knowing to Whom you belong

I just finished reading a book I would recommend to anyone, especially over the early weeks of Advent: John Henry Cardinal Newman's Callista: A Tale of the Third Century. In addition to being an inspiring tale of early Christian martyrdom, Newman manages to seamlessly write a lot of compelling catechesis. I am not making an attempt to unfold the tale, which is beautiful, as most things are, because of its noble simplicity, but merely highlighting one ancillary digression Cardinal Newman made at the beginning of the eleventh chapter about marriage. In the context of the story, it is a marriage that never happens, but turns into something much more beautiful for God on the part of both Callista and her suitor Agellius. As narrator, Newman writes from the perspective of an ancient North African Christian after the passing of the imperial persecutions, looking back on the events about which he is writing.

Agellius, who along with Callista is the protagonist of the story, has remained a Christian despite the fact that the Church in his town, Sicca, has stopped functioning as the result of previous persecutions. As a Christian with no community, Agellius is a truly like a fish without water. While he remains fairly devout, especially given his circumstances, his love of Christ has started to cool, verging on becoming lukewarm. With the help of his uncle, a committed Roman and pagan, he approaches Aristos, Callista's brother and guardian, about marrying the lovely, talented, and brilliant young woman, despite the fact that she is not yet a Christian. The passage with which I am concerned occurs as Agellius approaches the abode of Aristos and Callista.

About the contemplation of marriage, Newman writes that it is a "solemn moment," indeed, "under any circumstances...when anyone deliberately surrenders himself, soul and body, to the keeping of another while life shall last." It is certainly true that any authentic mode of Christian life has an eschatological dimension, including marriage, which cannot be seen merely as a concession to human weakness. Noting this, Newman wrote that giving one's entire person to another still requires one to reserve "the supreme claim of duty to the Creator."

When looked at objectively, Newman insists, marriage "is so tremendous an undertaking that nature seems to sink under its responsibilities." Looking at marriage by way of an analogy to religious life and, to a lesser degree, priesthood, Newman notes the supernatural strength needed to live both. In religious life and, by extension marriage, "the Christian binds himself" to God through Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, thus surrendering himself "to Him who is all-perfect, and whom he may unreservedly trust." However, it is of the essence of these modes of life to be subject to another human being; the religious superior, in the case of a religious, and the spouse for those who are married, marriage, according to Scripture, requiring the mutual submission of husband and wife to each other under the headship of Christ (see Ephesians 5:22-33- DO NOT SKIP ANY VERSE!). Newman rightly observes that we are naturally wary of making "such a sacrifice." Nonetheless, because faith enjoins it, the Church is required to "sanction and bless it." It stands to reason, at least for Newman, "that either the bond should be dissoluble, or that the subjects of it should be sacramentally strengthened to maintain it." A Christian recognizes the latter, thereby placing himself/herself in submission to God, in whom we "may unreservedly trust."

Fr. James Blaine giving the Nuptial Blessing to a newly-married couple in The Cathedral of the Madeleine

It is clear from the beginning of the proposition that he seek to marry her that Agellius is infatuated with Callista. Infatuation, which, according to Fr. Timothy Radcliffe OP, is the mirror image of lust. Infatuation, as Radcliffe describes it, is when another person "becomes the object of all our desires and the symbol of all we have longed for, the answer to all our needs." No human being can possibly bear this weight, but that they can use it to their advantage and the to detriment of the one who is infatuated. Both lust and infatuation are idolatrous. Lust worships the self; infatuation worships the other. Callista begins their interview by recalling a slave woman, Chione, who used to be in Callista's service. According to Callista, Chione was a Christian from a Christian family who died young. Speaking of her late slave, Callista says, "She was unlike any one I have seen before or since, she cared for nothing, yet was not morose or peevish or hard-hearted." The beautiful and inspiring love of Chione for Christ becomes the criterion against which Callista judges the faith of Agellius.

Agellius keeps bringing up his "Master," expressing his wish that Callista may come to know Him, but Callista cuts him short, chastising him for never saying anything meaningful to her about Christ, despite their long-time acquaintance: "Your Master! who is your Master? what know I of your Master? I suppose it is an esoteric doctrine which I am not worthy to know; but so it is, here you have been again and again, and talked freely of many things, yet I am in as much darkness about your Master as if I had never seen you." Calling out his infatuation of her, the physically beautiful Callista says to Agellius, "Your words, your manner, your looks were altogether different from others who came near me. But so it was; you came, and you went, and came again; I thought it reserve, I thought it timidity, I thought it the caution of a persecuted sect; but O, my disappointment, when first I saw in you indications that you were thinking of me only as others think, and felt towards me as others may feel; that you were aiming at me, not your God; that you had much to tell of yourself, but nothing of Him! Time was I might have been led to worship you, Agellius; you have hindered it be worshipping me." Of the last sentence, my friend Maria Elena wrote: "best quote ever."

Hence, his infatuation with her is the reason Callista very sagely rebukes Agellius, thus slapping his conscience back to life, putting them both on the royal road to salvation. It is a classic instance of loving another by loving his destiny, of showing how veritas precedes caritas. As a result of his infatuation with Callista, Agellius failed to acknowledge that God has the supreme claim upon him, something that Callista makes unmistakably clear to her would-be suitor. This shows us that it is not always evangelical zeal, but lukewarmness, that many non-Christians, at least those like Callista who have grasped the futility of life and who are looking for what their existence truly means, for fulfillment, find so unappealing.

"I want to someone to look at my face..."

Actress Erin Moon did this monologue for Student Life. It has been viewed almost 241,000 times. It is a dramatic telling of the encounter of the Samaritan woman at the well in Jesus from John 4:1-44.

In his book What Is the Point of Being a Christian?, Fr. Timothy Radcliffe OP writes that the human body "is not an object but a subject. I do not only look at her; she looks at me. The pornographer seeks the safe immunity of the voyeur, the security of invisibility." Fr. Radcliffe goes on to cite the philosopher Roger Scruton's distinction between what can legitimately be termed "erotic" over and against what is surely pornographic, "in the former," Radcliffe notes, "the beautiful body is that person, who has a face and is a centre of subjectivity."

Scruton, in the piece quoted, uses Titian's Venus of Urbino as an example of the erotic because, as Radcliffe observes, "our eyes are drawn to her face." Scruton writes of the painting:

The face individualizes the body, possesses it in the name of freedom and condemns all covetous glances as a violation. The Titian nude neither provokes nor excites, but retains a detached serenity- the serenity of a person whose thoughts and desires are not ours but hers...Venus is not beings shown to us as a possible object of our own desire. She is being withheld from us, integrated into the personality that quietly looks from those eyes and which is busy with thoughts and desires of [her] own"

It is Jesus who looks at me, Who gazes upon me with such great love and tenderness, looking at my face, seeing me, knowing me, loving me. In this vein I am reminded of two disparate things, my favorite work of C.S. Lewis', 'Til We Have Faces: A Myth Retold, which is a retelling of the myth of Cupid and Psyche, and Billy Idol's song Eyes Without A Face. The last line of the chorus: "Eyes without a face/Got no human grace/your eyes without a face."