Cultivating a just love of self

Here we are. The third Friday of 2025 already! I don't know about you, but this year has already had some unexpected twists and turns and that have made things a little tumultuous. None of these are bad things, thanks be to God. It's not bad for me to let myself be pressed a bit. I may have a problem of feeling like I need to be pressed all the time.

It's disconcerting for me after the quiet of the week between Christmas Day and New Year's Day to "get back to it." I've found that adjustment this year even more difficult than usual. I need to get my spiritual life back on track. With the exception of Holy Hour, it's not that I haven't been maintaining my spiritual discipline. Rather, it's the more difficult issue of practicing them in too perfunctory a manner.

A photo I snapped this morning

A bright spot in this New Year is reading Oliver Burkeman's Meditations for Mortals. The best way I can describe this book is that it is a master course in knowing and not so much overcoming yourself but recognizing and working within your limits and doing a better job setting limits. The books consists of meditations over 28 days. Yesterday's meditation, which is Day 16, set forth the "reverse golden rule."

Burkeman takes the concept of the "reverse golden rule" from philosopher Iddo Landau and describes it thus:

not treating yourself in punishing and poisonous ways in which you'd never dream of treating someone else

Now, everyone is not likely prone to this. I don't mind admitting that I am. At times, I am utterly and unrelentingly terrible to myself.

Reading and pondering Burkeman's chapter on the "reverse golden rule" led me quickly not only to think about the golden rule- Do to others whatever you would like them to do to you (Matthew 7:12)- but also the second of Jesus's Two Great Commandments to love your neighbor as you love yourself (Matthew 22:37). The back end of both of these injunctions is that a just love of self is the basis for how you treat others.

Not an earth-shattering insight, I know. But there's knowing something and then there's being struck by what it is you know in a way that shows you, once again, that knowing, as important as that is, isn't everything and, when it comes to life, to living, is insufficient of itself. To put it in an utterly eggheaded way, Burkeman's insight via Landau provided me with a necessary link between knowledge and praxis, between knowing and doing.

Several years ago, I man I had worked with over the better part of a year to return to the practice of the faith to be confirmed and with whom I had developed a warm friendship, committed suicide. Casey was an extraordinarily successful person. He was truly loved by all: smart, hard-working, kind, and generous to all. I was asked to participate in his quite elaborate memorial service. I did so by incorporating elements of the Roman Catholic funeral vigil,which the large crowd seemed to not just to tolerate but appreciate. After all, it was a wake. At each place setting the tables laid out for the banquet was a banner that read Be gentle with yourself & with others. To this day, I keep it in my den (see photo above).

Today's traditio was a little difficult as I want to keep it congruent with what I write. So, being kind to myself, I am going with U2's "A Sort of Homecoming." It is off their Unforgettable Fire album, which remains my favorite of their many albums. Actually, my least favorite song off that album is the one that was most popular and that would be fitting for Monday's holiday:

Let's not forget that Fridays remain days of penance. When understood and practiced properly, penance, while it certainly consists of taking stock of your life and examining your conscience, is not then kicking the shit out of yourself. For a Christian far from it. Rather, it is recognizing and desiring the healing you need and turning to the One who died and rose to heal you: Jesus Christ. As a Balthasarian in this regard, I don't mind asserting that He even went to hell for you. It bears recalling that along with anointing, penance is a sacrament of healing.

Engaging in penitential acts is important and, I believe, necessary. Fasting, abstinence, vigils, cold showers, etc. are good things when done in the right spirit. Yes, I stand ready to still defend Pope Saint John Paul II for his practice of administering "the discipline" to himself, often on the eve of ordaining new bishops. Is this a practice for everyone? Emphatically, NO! Is it a practice for most people, again, NO! I have written a lot on penitential practices over the years of this blog. With Lent coming, I will revisit this soon without a doubt. I will address what it means to engage in penitential acts in the right spirit.

Opening myself up to grace is really the work this requires, ex opere operato notwithstanding:

And you hunger for the time
Time to heal, desire time...

Monday of the First Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Hebrews 1:1-6; Psalm 97:1-2.6-7.9; Mark 1:14-20

In our first reading, which is the beginning of the Letter to the Hebrews, the inspired writer calls the son of God, through whom God now speaks, the “refulgence” of God’s glory.¹ “Refulgence” is what we might call an old-fashioned word, one that is not used much these days.

“Refulgence” means something like “to shine brightly” or, more succinctly, to be “radiant.” Indeed, the Son, Jesus Christ, radiates His Father’s glory. He does this, according to the inspired author, by being the very mark, or sign, of God’s character. This helps make sense of Jesus words to Philip: “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.”²

This passage also that in speaking to us “through the Son,” something new and greater than anything that has happened before is now occurring. Not only is the Son greater than the prophets, He is above the angels. As our responsorial implores: “Let all his angels worship him.”³

This seems fitting for the day after our observance of the Baptism of the Lord. Jesus’ baptism by John in the Jordan was a full theophany in which the Father, Son, and Spirit make themselves manifest. Immediately after His baptism, Jesus spent forty days in the desert fasting and praying. Our Gospel today is Saint Mark’s account of what began to unfold after Jesus’ time in the desert, namely His Galilean ministry.

What does God say to us through His Son? He says: “This is the time of fulfillment. The Kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the Gospel.”⁴ Those who heed the Lord’s call to repent and believe (it is important that “repent” comes before “believe”) are then called to follow Him, to be His disciples.

True repentance consists of following Jesus, making discipleship not the most important thing in life, but as the life that is truly life. All other concerns become secondary at best, even family and business concerns. What the Lord calls us to is radical.

Simon and Andrew as well James and John set the bar for Christian discipleship. At no point did Jesus tell them to go home, pray about it, seek counsel from friends and family, and get back to Him. He said, “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.” Without hesitation, “they abandoned their nets and followed him.”⁵

These men recognized the in-breaking of God’s kingdom into the world in and through this radiant man, Jesus of Nazareth. At that point, there is little doubt they could not have articulated what it was that made them leave everything and follow Him. I think perhaps the Lord didn’t tell them where they were going because He is the starting point and the destination; He is the kingdom of God in person.

Our readings for this Monday of the First Week in Ordinary Time, which falls very early in the New Year, pose a question: What concerns, worries, fears, hold you back from following Jesus, from giving yourself to Him wholly, that is, body, blood, soul, and humanity? What nets do you need to abandon?

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1 Hebrews 1:3.^↩
2 John 14:9.^↩
3 Psalm 97:7.^↩
4 Mark 1:15.^↩
5 Mark 1:16-20.^↩

Some streams flowing from the Lord's Baptism

At least for Roman Catholics in the United States, today's observance of the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord brings the Christmas season to an end. Hence, tomorrow is Monday of the First Week in Ordinary Time. This period of Ordinary Time extends to Ash Wednesday, which observance ushers in the season of Lent.

I probably make too big a deal about my revulsion (not too strong a word) of the secular season that tends to obliterate, not just Advent, but also Christmas as a season. Once it arrives, however, I love the season of Christmas. This year, even more than in recent years, I am sorry to see the season go. Time moves inexorably forward. Like most people, I suppose, I feel the pull of time's current more acutely as I grow older.

Today, I welcome the chance to reflect on this feast in a free form kind of way. What follows is a jumble of the kinds of generative ideas I have when I begin to think about what I might say when preaching the readings for a particular Sunday. Of course, these streams can't all be pursued when preaching. But it's nice to be able provide a few sketches.

Speculating on why it is that Jesus accepted baptism at the hands of John the Baptist, Archbishop Fulton Sheen suggested that rather than being cleansed from sin, as the sacrament of baptism would come to signify, symbolize, and ex opere operato achieve, that by entering the water and being baptized, the Lord Jesus began His ministry of taking our sins upon Himself. It is an interesting thought, kind of like a negative image of baptism. The first verse of the hymn for the Office of Readings for today's feast in the 4-volume edition I am using, relates to this idea:

When Jesus comes to be baptized,
He leaves the hidden years behind,
The years of safety and of peace,
To bear the sins of all mankind.

An older theological idea has it that by His baptism, Jesus sanctified the waters, which in the ancient world and even to some extent now, were something to be feared. Seafaring, as the life of Saint Paul shows, was a dangerous business!

In the second reading for the Office of Readings, Saint Gregory Nazianzus, in a sermon on the Lord's Baptism, pulls these strands together: "certainly [Jesus] comes [to John to be baptized] to bury sinful humanity in the waters. He comes to sanctify the Jordan for our sake and in readiness for us; he who is spirit and flesh comes to begin a new creation through the Spirit and water."

Water is both life-giving and life-threatening. On the one hand, without water you die and sooner than you will perish for lack of food. On the other, water can be and sometimes is terribly destructive. Israel's exodus through the Red Sea, which features prominently in the blessing of baptismal water, shows us this.

It stands to reason that being the Only Begotten Son of the Father, Jesus neither needed to reborn through baptism nor have any sin washed away. Taking a sacramental view, which is really to take a Christian view, it seems far too trite to simply say He did it to set a good example for us. Something that is easy to overlook is that with the appearance of the Holy Spirit and voice of the Father confirming Jesus as His Son, the sacrament of confirmation is also foreshadowed.

Baptism of Christ, David Zelenka, 2005

Another thing easy to overlook in Saint Luke's account is that after His baptism by John in the River Jordan, Jesus began to pray. It seems that, according to Luke, the Lord's experience of the Holy Spirit descending like a dove and hearing the Father's confirmation of His identity were the results of His prayer. Maybe the point here is that being made children of God through baptism, like Jesus, we can now to pray to God as our Father.

Being Year C of the three year Sunday lectionary, during which the Church focuses on the Gospel According to Saint Luke, we have two readings from Luke. You see, the same inspired author composed both Luke's Gospel and the Acts of the Apostles. The passage from Acts that serves as today's second reading is part of a section often called "the Pentecost of the Gentiles."

Our reading from Acts consits of a homily given by Saint Peter in the house of the Roman centurion Cornelius, who had come to faith in Christ and then called for Peter. These words are the result of a conversion Peter had in coming to Cornelius. Peter needed to grasp that the Gospel is for everyone, Jew and Gentile alike. Of course, as we know, even after this, Peter continued to be a bit wishy-washy, uncharitably one might say "two-faced," about this matter. Something for which Saint Paul upbraided him (see Galatians 2:11-14).

Nonetheless, as a result of Peter's preaching on this occasion, the Holy Spirit descended on the members of Cornelius' household and they were baptized.The Gospel of Jesus Christ is universal, it's for everyone, no exceptions. While this kind of universalism is common to us, it was pretty radical in the ancient Mediterranean world and beyond.

It is important to grasp that baptism, to which confirmation is very closely linked, is the fundamental sacrament of Christian life. Baptism, confirmation, Eucharist are the sacraments of Christian initiation. Reception of these fully incorporates a person into Christ, making her/him members of Christ's Body, the Church.

Contrary to what many seem to believe and assert, the sacrament of orders (you can only call it "holy" orders when you refer to matrimony and "holy matrimony") is not the premier sacrament. Along with matrimony, orders is what Owen Cummings has called a "diaconal" sacrament, that is, a sacrament at the service of communion, as we learn in basic catechesis.

Pope Francis has been very wise in warning us against the tendency to want to "clericalize" the Church. It isn't that the Church needs to be "de-clericalized." Rather, the balance envisioned by the Second Vatican Council as set forth in Lumen Gentium and Gaudium et Spes needs to continue being sought after and more fully realized. Whatever you may think about synodality either in principle or execution (I have mixed feelings about both), this is really its goal.

Reflecting on one's own baptism, its purpose, its meaning, its rights, its responsibilities seems a very good way to enter back into Ordinary Time and, even now, a New Year. In this way the stream of time and eternity can flow into each other in and through you.

The politics of dancing

This post was originally part of my end-of-year post for New Year's Eve. As you can see, it is a digression and a long one at that. Truth be told, while the political landscape has changed tremendously, my personal politics haven't really changed that much since I was a young man. For those of us who came of age politically a long time ago, it's easy to be misunderstood.

When it comes to politics, my Catholic faith shapes and forms my views. One of the things that drew me to the Catholic Church as an undergraduate in college was her social teaching. Letting faith lead when it comes to politics seems to me to get things the right way around. Besides, within the domain of Church Social Teaching, on many issues, there is room for some diversity of thought and opinion.

I grasp that this makes me incomprehensible to a lot of people. What this means when described using secular terms is that in some ways I am liberal and some ways I am conservative and in some ways my view doesn't fit either category as presently understood. I have issues with both major parties for some of the same reasons and also for different reasons. There are reasons that I like both and reasons I dislike both.

For example, I am opposed to abortion and the death penalty. I understand that the two aren't morally equivalent, except in the case when an innocent person is executed (See "Giving the gift of life and Jesus' toughest commandment"). When it comes to immigration the U.S. Bishops summarize my views on this multi-facted issue in their very recent document "Catholic Elements of Immigration Reform."

I believe firmly in what the U.S. bishops teach about the importance of using prudential judgment when voting. I increasingly believe that a conscientious decision not to vote, especially for national offices, is a morally valid position. Of course, this differs from not voting out of laziness or apathy. But the norm is to vote, which means realizing that there are no ideal candidates.

I find voting excruciating. I am neither MAGA nor woke, which I see as the new names for those on the polar extremes of the political spectrum. Over time, these designations will change again. Like most people, I am somewhere in between these two while perhaps sharing a few positions with both sides. I tend to be socially conservative and economically something of a social democrat, as long as that is taken to mean one who adheres to Catholic Social Teaching. Guess what? If polling over many years is to be believed, the position above is that of many people, not just in the U.S. but in other western countries.

I think for-profit healthcare is problematic. At least in its current form it is expensive and ineffective. In the U.S. we pay far more for healthcare by any measure than any other advanced country and have worse outcomes. I realize there are different means to achieve agreed upon ends. I would think one end would be to ensure everyone has access to healthcare, especially routine and preventative care.

The political position I described above used to have a home in the Democratic Party, especially Democrats from the western United States. At least during his political career, which consisted of one term in the Georgia State Senate and one term as governor of Georgia in addition to his one term as president, Jimmy Carter, who died last week aged 100, was by-and-large that kind of Democrat. He only became "progressive" years, even decades, after losing to Ronald Reagan in 1980. Nonetheless, even in 1976, Carter did not win one western state. Let's not forget that Joe Biden was once that kind of Democrat, too.

As the societal consensus required for such a system of government continues to be strained to the breaking point, liberal democracy, with its rule by the 50.000000001%, or by a plurality of less than half of citizens who even bother to vote, is rapidly approaching a serious reckoning. Even this past election, which in terms of the Electoral College, which I support, was an overwhelming victory for President Trump, was won popularly on a plurality with no candidate securing a majority of votes.

At present, I worry about oligarchy more than ever. People already tolerate oligarchy as long it isn't too obvious. Hence, we might resist it when asserted too blatantly. Since politics now is almost exclusively media-driven optics, it looks bad when unelected rich people seem to start calling the policy shots for duly elected representatives and the president. As the Iron Law of Oligarchy, first posited by sociologist Robert Michels, holds- "all complex organizations, regardless of how democratic they are when started, eventually develop into oligarchies."

Congress needs to step up and assert its constitutional independence to maintain the balance of power on which our form of government depends. This is true of budgetary matters, immigration, and our engagement in miltary action overseas. The executive can't continue to have carte blanche.

Politics are proximate, not ultimate. I am a political realist. Politics, let alone a politician, can't save me, can't save us. Participating as a citizen requires making prudent judgments based on the information available at the time. It involves comparing the candidates' positions, giving due weight to various matters, and comparing the candidates themselves. Oftentimes, people vote based on a vibe. I am pretty sure many of us have cast votes that we regret. Never in my life have I come close to voting a straight party ticket.

Politically speaking, at different times on different matters, I have gone to the left and to the right. This is not incoherent. It is seeking, not a balance, but a genuine response to what is happening. There have been times when, foolishly, I let ideology lead. It's easy enough to do as propaganda is ubiquitous. When it comes to sexual ethics and human sexuality, I have come full circle back to the Church's teaching.

This shift was prompted by some personal experiences I had shortly after taking a slightly different mindset. These experiences were disconcerting enough to help me see things more clearly. Even as an adult, it's easy to get swept up by the crowd. I get that when it comes to human sexuality it is inherently complicated. But now sexuality, matters concerning sex and gender, have become utterly bewildering for most people. With all the claims and counterclaims it's hard to tell what is reliable information and what is propaganda, to tell truth from ideology.

I think sex and gender have grown so bewildering that most people, far from supporting or opposing, many just throw up their hands and say, "Whatever!" Besides, no one wants to be harassed but neither do they want their speech policed, etc. Rest assured, just like before, sexuality will not be the main focus of what I write here but neither is it a forbidden topic.

As a deacon, I committed to service in the name of Christ and His Church. First and foremost, this means loving the people I encounter, being available, being someone to whom people feel they can talk. Pastorally, it's best to engage with those I encounter in an open way.

I am okay with Newman's insistence, found in his book that was a catalyst for my conversion, Essay in Aid of a Grammar of Assent: "In a higher world it is otherwise, but here below to live is to change, and to be perfect is to have changed often." This dynamic of life also serves to make me more humble, a virtue in which I can always stand to grow. I am far from perfect. And so, I need to keep changing. In Christian parlance this is called "conversion."

Our traditio, is the still very danceable 1983 song by Re-Flex, "The Politics of Dancing" -

Monday After Epiphany

Readings: 1 John 3:22-4:6; Psalm 2:7-8.10-12; Matthew 4:12-17.23-25

Today is what some Catholics might call “real” Epiphany. But in reality, at least for Roman Catholics in the U.S., it is the Monday after Epiphany. Today, we begin the last week of Christmas, which ends Sunday with our celebration of the Baptism of the Lord.

We should be grateful for an extended liturgical season of Christmas. This gives us more extension time to reflect more deeply on the Incarnation of the Son of God. Jesus, born in Bethlehem of Judea, is God’s only begotten Son. Being of the same divine substance as the Father, He is begotten, not made. Hence, He is true God from true God.

As was mentioned yesterday, biblically speaking, there isn’t only one epiphany. Our liturgical observance of Epiphany celebrates Christ’s revelation to the nations, to the goyiim, to the non-Israelites. Two important terms are practically synonymous: epiphany and theophany. The Lord’s Baptism by John in the Jordan, as all four Gospels testify, was a such an epiphany/theophany.

By grace, through baptism, we are reborn as children of God. Because we are made, not begotten, we are not God’s children by nature. Before we are children, we are creatures of God. Being the only creature God willed for its own sake; human beings are unique creatures.¹

As Sacred Scripture teaches, human beings were originally made in both the image and likeness of God.² While the image of God, which is the foundation of human personhood, is ineradicable, our likeness to God is lost through sin. Through Christ, God seeks to restore our likeness through grace.

All of this is a prelude to the question prompted by our readings today: Why did God become Incarnate in the person of Jesus? What’s the point of this Incarnation? “Why?” is the most human of questions. To ask “Why?” is to seek meaning. It is the essence of our humanity to find meaning. This is why the journey of the magi is emblematic of our journey, not just as individuals, but as God’s people. God’s people have always been pilgrim people. Christ’s Church is a pilgrim Church.³

The simple answer to the question “Why did God send His Son?” is He sent Him to redeem the world. Christ came to restore our divine likeness. God does not redeem human beings apart from their cooperation, their consent, their desire. Human desire, whether conscious or not, is to understand and then realize the end, the purpose, for which we are made.

The Hundred Guilder Print, Rembrandt, c. 1649

Our Gospel reading for today is Matthew’s telling of the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. This comes after His forty days fasting and praying in the wilderness. This period of preparation, in turn, immediately followed His baptism by John in the Jordan. Given that Bri and Ty are becoming Catechumens at this Mass, it is even more fitting to reflect on baptism.

What is Jesus’ message? “Repent, for the Kingdom of heaven is at hand.”⁴ It bears noting that, according to Origen, who coined a new word to describe this reality, Jesus is autobasileia.⁵ This means that Jesus Christ is the kingdom of heaven in person.

The beginning of repentance is to recognize your sins and then be sorry for them. Contrition entails a firm purpose of amendment to change your life with God’s help. In his Letter to the Romans, Saint Paul insisted: “all have sinned and are deprived of the glory of God.”⁶ In 1 John we hear: “If we say, ‘We have not sinned’ we make him [the Lord] a liar, and his word is not in us.”⁷ Jesus came to call us to repentance and to redeem us from our sins. Redemption, therefore, requires repentance.

While you cannot save yourself, it’s necessary to grasp that salvation is not a passive endeavor. Practicing the spiritual disciplines taught by the Lord Himself: prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, knowing and living the five precepts of the Church, receiving the grace given in the sacrament of penance by going to confession with some frequency, are indispensable for a Christian. Living this way makes you redeemable.

Being redeemable does not mean you somehow earn God’s favor through works. It means living in gratitude for what the Father has done by sending His Son, who, in turn, gives us His Holy Spirit. Far from living a sad sack existence, living as one redeemed is to live joyfully. In this calculus, joy is to happiness what hope is to optimism, especially happiness understood as putting your own satisfaction first.

As the former Christian who became a self-described “anti-Christ,” Frederich Nietzsche declared: “I might believe in the Redeemer if his followers looked more redeemed.”⁸ Since today the Church remembers Saint Andre Bessette, speaking from his own experience and somewhat echoing Nietzsche’s own take on dealing with life’s inevitable struggles, he told us something about what it means to live a redeemed and redemptive life: “Do not seek to have these trials lifted from you. Instead, ask for the grace to bear them well.”

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1 Second Vatican Council. Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World [Gaudium et spes], sec. 24.^↩
2 Genesis 1:27.^↩
3 Second Vatican Council. Dogmatic Constitution on the Church [Lumen Gentium], secs. 7.21 & Chap VII. ^↩
4 Matthew 4:17.^↩
5 Origen. Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew, Book XIV, chap. 7.^↩
6 Romans 3:23..^↩
7 1 John 1:1-10.^↩
8 Frederich Nietzsche. Thus Spake Zarathustra, Part II, Chapter 26, “The Priests.”^↩

Epiphany, epiphanies, and epiphanising

Virtually (actually?), everywhere else in the world, Catholics celebrate the Lord's Epiphany on a fixed day: 6 January. Here in the United States, we celebrate it the second Sunday after Christmas Day. Hence, this year we will come close to observing this important day on its traditional date.

For those who don't know, 6 January marks the end of the 12 Days of Christmas. In other countries, it also marks the end of the liturgical season of Christmas. Catholics in U.S. end Christmas on the Baptism of Lord. So, even after our observance of Epiphany, this year we will still have an entire week of Christmas.

An epiphany is a sudden realization, perhaps even a revelation. It might also be described as a moment of heightened perception, a moment when you seem to see things in their true light, one might say, see things as they really are. Epiphanies yield an insights.

I am not a literary scholar, but I believe it was James Joyce who brought the term "epiphany" into English literature. In in his novel Stephen Hero, published in 1944, but started in 1904 and likely finished not long after that, Joyce set forth his idea of epiphany.

It has been said that in Finnegan's Wake Joyce tried to epiphanise everything. A notoriously difficult read, Finnegan's Wake, which must be read out loud, is written a bit like speaking in tongues, which seems to me a fitting way to speak and write about epiphanies.

Of course, this all makes the arrival of the magi at the house in Bethlehem in Matthew 2, at least in literary terms, seem pedestrian. But there is nothing pedestrian about it. The so-called wise men traveled westward, following a star, seeking the King of Jews. This led them first to Herod, who, in political, that is, human terms, was the King of the Jews or at least a king of Jews. These men from the East didn't know who exactly this King of Jews was, but they knew it wasn't Herod.

Winding up as they did in Jerusalem at the royal palace they did not find the real King of the Jews. Eventually, the magi found who they sought, the real King of Jews. Herod, with the help of his experts, directed them to Bethlehem. Despite his helpful demeanor, Herod was desperate to find and kill this potential rival.

Jumping forward to the penultimate (love using that word!) chapter of Matthew (27:37, to be exact), Jesus is once again designated "King of the Jews." By nailing a sign with that title on it to Jesus' cross, the Romans mocked the Jews. They engaged in a bit of political taunting: "This naked, beaten, bloody, peasant is your king, idiots." Yet, what was meant to be a mocking title was not just this man's real title but His true identity. What the magi, who represent "the nations," show us is that Jesus isn't only the King of the Jews, He is Lord of all.

This all revolves around reality, what is really real. Things aren't always as they appear because appearances can be deceptive. If you reduce to reality to what isn't only empirically demonstrable but what is perceptible to your senses, you live pretty far from reality. And so, despite all appearances, Jesus, not Herod, is the real King of the Jews. This tells us a lot about God (See Philippians 2:5-11).

I am reminded of an exeprience shared by our professor pastoral counseling in my doctorate program at Mount Angel Seminary. While a priest, this professor works primarily as a psychologist. And so, he doesn't usually wear clericals. He wears an open neck collared shirt, dress trousers and shoes, and a sport coat. One morning after teaching his class at seminary, where he is an adjunct and teaches only seminarians during their last year (and doctoral students), he was asked by the rector if he could say Mass for the seminarians because the seminary's regular faculty needed to have a meeting.

This priest, psychologist, professor agreed and proceeded to the sacristy of the chapel. Once in the sacristy, he was looking at albs, seeing which one would fit him. As he did this, a seminarian, dressed in clericals, came in and, seeing him, asked, "Are you a priest?" He replied, "Yes." The seminarian responded by saying, "Well, you don't look like one." This prompted the professor to say, "Isn't that funny. You look like a priest but aren't one and I don't yet I am one."

During this time Eucharistic Revival, we talk a lot (I mean a lot) about Jesus' "Real Presence" in the Eucharist. Very often this is done in an unhelpfully reductive way. By this I mean reducing His Real Presence to the consecrated species of bread and wine. Yet, in its Dogmatic Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, Sacrosanctum Concilium (see section 7), the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council, sets forth four ways that Christ is truly (i.e., really) present in the Eucharist.

First it must be noted that "the Eucharist" does not merely refer to the consecrated host, or even the consecrated host and consecrated wine. It refers to the Eucharistic Liturgy in its entirety. It was renewal of the Liturgy that the Council fathers sought to bring about with this Constitution. As a side note, taking my cue from a lecture Pope Benedict XVI gave on the fortieth anniversary of Sacrosanctum Concilium in 2003, before becoming pope, the Church needs a thorough re-reading of this Constitution (See "The Liturgical Legacy of Pope Benedict XVI").

Mass, the Eucharistic liturgy, is the source and summit of Christian faith. Hence, we must overcome our reductive tendency. All Eucharistic worship outside of Mass needs to be tied to the Mass. Why? Because you can't have Eucharistic worship outside of Mass without Mass. For Mass, you need the Church, which is what it means to say "the Eucharist makes the Church and the Church makes the Eucharist."

And so, we recognize that Christ is present in the assembly, the gathering of the baptized. We receive Him aurally as well as orally in Mass because He is really present in the proclamation of Sacred Scripture. Christ is present in the person of the priest. Then, the culmination of all this is, by the power of the Holy Spirit, our simple gifts of bread and wine become His body and blood. This brings us to apex, the summit, of the Eucharistic liturgy: Holy Communion. It is by means of receiving Communion that the word of scripture is to become enfleshed in you.

When reduced to something akin to a magic trick, Real Presence becomes a struggle for many because it isn't obvious that this is what happens on the altar. Rather than reduce, we need to expand, to encounter Christ in our sisters and brothers, to hear Christ in Sacred Scripture (hopefully aided by decent preaching). Then, having had this encounter, during which you receive Christ, you bring Him to whomever you meet and wherever you go. This is what it means to really live. At its deepest, reality is the Paschal Mystery of Christ.

You and I, along with everyone who receives Christ in Holy Communion, are meant to be proof of the truthfulness of the Church's belief in the Real Presence. Therefore, each of us is to be an Epiphany.

It makes no sense to get bogged down with proving the unproveable. Sure, you can help others make sense of transubstantiation so maybe they can understand that it is intellectually defensible and not some crazy religious belief unmoored from reality. Ultimately, believing the sacred species are transformed is a belief of faith. As with other beliefs of faith, like, say, the Trinity, while not contrary to reason, it is not demonstrable by reason alone. Faith is required. Even for those who believe, this belief cannot be some discrete, disconnected, acontextual thing that happens in a vacuum and that has little or no bearing on your life.

The Eucharistic Liturgy is called "Mass" because this is derived from the Latin missa. Missa refers both to being, not just dismissed, but sent as well as what you're sent to do- missio- or mission.

On the Tenth Day of Christmas... comedy

During my early-to-late teenage years, I spent a lot of time listening to music and comic albums with friends. Back then, it was a great joy to have friends over or go to someone's house, turn off he lights, put the record on the turntable or in the cassette deck, turn it on, then just lay on the floor and listen. I still do that sometimes in my den, though these days by myself.

Woody Allen doing his stand-up act in the early 1960s

We listened to comedy albums by, among others, Steve Martin, Robin Williams, Woody Allen (yes, he did stand-up and was good). On one of Allen's records, he talks about driving into Manhattan to audition for a play. The part for which he was auditioning, which he said was "type casting," was God. During his drive, someone cut him off in traffic. Trying to get into character for his audition, he told them "Be fruitful and multiply," only he didn't use those words.

We also found Bob Newhart comedy albums our dads owned. I remember with particular fondness Monty Python's Contractual Obligation album. I still know the words to all the songs on this album, such as "Finland"- "Altogether, Fin-o-philes!" The contents of these albums would certainly never meet with parental approval. Some of the particularly explicit material that felt so transgressive to my relatively naive young self doesn't appeal much to me these days.

In the heyday of Second City Televsion (a.k.a. SCTV), Doug and Bob McKenzie were a treat. Their The Great White North album is hilarious. Just two hose head brohers from Canada, eh. On this Tenth Day of Christmas, therefore, it seems fitting to have the McKenzie brothers' unique take on the Twelve Days of Christmas as our traditio.

While I am at it, as a bonus, I am including their collaboration with Rush bassist, Geddy Lee. The result of this collaboration is the song "Take Off." As Lee says at the beginning: "You know, ten bucks is ten bucks."