"How soon is now?"

Readings: Isaiah 2:1-5; Psalm 122:1-9; Romans 13:11-14; Matthew 24:37-44

For this First Sunday of Advent, our "epistle" reading is a longer section of the thirteenth chapter of Saint Paul's Letter to the Romans than the reading found in Morning Prayer for the Liturgy of the Hours. Despite being a relatively short liturgical season, Advent has two fairly distinct phases. For the first two weeks, Advent is a continuation of the end of the liturgical year. As such, it focuses on Christ's return at the end of time and preparing for His return.

Advent, therefore, begins penitentially. Oddly, there are those who deny that Advent has a penitential character at all. This is belied by the fact that the predominant liturgical color for this season is violet. Liturgically, violent indicates penance. Besides, for most Eastern Christians the pre-Christmas fast is as rigorous or nearly as rigorous as the Lenten fast. Sadly, Latin Christians have largely dispensed with pre-Christmas penitential practices.

As noted a few weeks ago, there is something seriously defective about a "Christianity" that has lost its eschatological edge. In fact, such a "Christianity" is a pseudo-Christianity. Far from honoring, Jesus Christ, rending being a Christian as nothing more than choosing one existential option among innumerable existential options is to ignore what He taught. Our Gospel for today is one such teaching. Christianity isn't just one more moral code or even a moral code at all.

Faced with these eschatological passages, we have a tendency to water them down. Otherwise, we might get a bit uncomfortable. This discomfort might cause someone to examine his life. And, who knows, perhaps even repent.

Fundamentally, the message for the First Sunday of Advent is that being a Christian means living intentionally. The intent in living this way isn't to live this way when that just means adhering to a set of rules and regulations in order to receive a reward. It means living this way in order to be changed from the inside out. It means metanoia. It means desiring to be conformed to the image of Christ, wanting to be holy as He is holy.

"Maranatha" in the medieval Southwick Codex

In turn, desiring to be conformed to the image of Christ means recognizing that you cannot accomplish this transformation on your own. Without grace, you cannot be like Christ. Human beings were created in the image and likeness of God. While God's image, the imago Dei, is ineradicable, likeness to God is lost through sin and can only be restored by grace.

We are creatures who inhabit time. Time will end. Therefore, each day salvation draws nearer- whether that be the eschaton or your own death. This year is the 1,700th anniversary of the Nicene-Constaninopolitan Creed. In that Creed, which we recite virtually every Sunday (we can use the Apostles Creed, but that in no way diminishes my point), we profess that Jesus Christ "will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead." This is a dogma of Christian faith. Therefore, it is de fide. Without it, one's faith becomes belief in something else.

It has been more than 2,000 years since the Lord's first advent. In human terms, this is a very long time. It is postulated that Israel's exodus from Egypt took place around 1446 BC. If one backs up from the exodus to Israel's "going down to Egypt," you get pretty close to 2,000 years. Please do not misunderstand me. I am not predicting that Jesus is coming soon. Yet, He might. Nobody can possibly know. The signs the Lord invokes, I believe, are deliberately ambiguous.

Rather, my point is that most of history is an advent, a time of waiting on God. Many have concluded that waiting on God is like waiting for Godot, that is, waiting for someone who never turns up. But that isn't true. Christ has turned up.

Through the Holy Spirit, who is Christ's resurrection presence, He remains present, especially and profoundly in and through His Body, the Church. This is why the response to the Intercessions for Evening Prayer for the First Sunday of Advent is Come and stay with us, Lord.Hence, we live between the already and the not yet. This is a place of tension.

Today, as we enter (another) Advent, we are urged to live this tension. We are exhorted not let either or both sides go slack. We are encouraged not give up our joyful waiting for the coming of our Lord. This is why we pray- מרנאתא - Transliterated, this is Maranatha!

Maranatha is an Aramaic word. Hence, it belongs to what was Jesus' native language. Found in 1 Corinthians 16:22 and alluded to in Revelation 22:20, Maranatha is translated in various ways: "Our Lord, come!" but it could also be credibly translated "Our Lord has come." Fittingly, there is no need to resolve this ambiguity, this tension, just as there is no need to resolve the tension of the already and the not-yet. Between these two is now.

Wake up! Stay awake! Be salt. Don't lose your savor. Await Christ with joyful expectation, which means seeking to make God's kingdom present here and now.

"I'm listening to the music with no fear"

Ah, Friday after Thanksgiving! I often post something on Thanksgiving. But this year, we did something we've been discussing for probably fifteen years: going out-of-town for this holiday. And so, we're in Hurricane, Utah, which is the extreme southwest corner of the Beehive State.

All of our children, minus one, are here as are my wife's Mom, brother and his daughter. It's been a nice break and a good time. A good way to realize how busy you are is to get away and take a break.

I love Thanksgiving. It's becoming my favorite holiday. It's easy to grouse about the origins of this national holiday. In reality, isn't it nice to set aside a day to give thanks? However you observed that day, I hope you took time, as Pope Leo suggested, to thank someone. It's probably something we should all try to do everyday- say "Thank you" whenever we feel gratitude.

As Brother David Steindl-Rast noted his wonderful book on gratitude: "Look closely and will find that people are happy because they are grateful. The opposite of gratefulness is just taking everything for granted." Or, even worse, focusing on that bad things, which, as human beings, we are predisposed to do.

Me at the end of today's trail in Kolob Canyon

I readily admit that gratitude doesn't come easily to me. This despite the fact there are a lot of people for whom I should be deeply grateful. Also, a lot in my life over 60 years now for which I should be far more grateful. It's much easier to focus what I will just call other stuff.

A big focus of mine right now is living with less fear. I am not gripped by fear, but I tend to worry too much. Even if you live to 100, life is too short to worry a lot. There is always something to worry about, for sure. Some things are worth worrying about. Most things are not, especially when you realize most of what you worry about is nonsense.

I had a great time driving down with my two middle sons. We listened to so much music. Some of it new to me. "Punkrocker" by the Teddybears, featuring Iggy Pop, is one such song. It is our traditio:

Happy "good thieves"

Jesus Christ isn't just king of the world, He is king of the universe, of the cosmos. As no less a brilliant mind than Einstein observed, we do, in fact, live in a cosmos. Cosmos is the counter to chaos. Hence, the Lord's insistence to Pilate that His kingdom is not of this world can mean more than one thing.

Christ's kingdom is out of this world as well as in this world. He is King of everything that is, was, or ever will be. For a Christian, this is axiomatic. It is an atomic statement, an ontological fact, just as the Church, as our reading from Colossians indicates, is an ontological entity, not a voluntary association of the like-minded.

The sarcastic sign Pilate had hung on the Lord's Cross was true as far as it went: Jesus is "The king of the Jews." But He is also king of the Gentiles, even of Caesar. Pope Pius XII wrote about Catholics having a supranationality. In the end, every knee shall bend and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father.

In his Apostolic Letter, In Unitate Fidei, promulgated today, given in advance of his Apostolic Journey to Turkey to observe the 1,700th anniversary of Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed, Pope Leo XIV noted

The profession of faith in Jesus Christ, our Lord and God is the center of the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed. This is the heart of our Christian life. For this reason, we commit to follow Jesus as our master, companion, brother and friend. But the Nicene Creed asks for more: it reminds us not to forget that Jesus Christ is the Lord (Kyrios), the Son of the living God who “for our salvation came down from heaven” and died “for our sake” on the cross, opening the way to new life for us through his resurrection and ascension (sec. 11)

Christ is not a king like other kings. He is not a demanding, selfish, cruel tyrant, paranoid about rivals and eager to assert His authority by using corecive means. He isn't drunk with power or domineering. While being perfectly just, He is merciful, selfless, and kind. When He mounted the cross, He mounted His throne.

As the Preface to the Eucharistic Prayer for today's observance puts it, Christ offered Himself "on the altar of the Cross" to present to the Father

an eternal and universal kingdom,
a kingdom of truth and life,
a kingdom of holiness and grace,
a kingdom of justice, peace, and love

Nothing really gets at the "theology" of observances such as today's like the Preface, which serves as a shining example of liturgy as prima theologia- first theology.

With one notable exception, it is only thieves who dwell in Christ's kingdom. Even this exception, Mary, the Mother of God, confesses herself a "lowly servant." So, the question is not whether or not you're a "thief." I am and you are. Rather, the question is, do you know you're a thief? Then the question becomes, are you a good thief or a bad one?

In his last will and testament, discovered after his martyrdom, Christian de Chergé, abbot of Our Lady of Atlas abbey in Tibhirine, Algeria, addressing his killer, wrote this: "I commend you to the God in whose face I see yours. And may we find each other, happy 'good thieves' in Paradise, if it please God, the Father of us both."

"To show you that I've thought about you and missed you"

A couple of posts back, 2025 became the most prolific year on Καθολικός διάκονος since 2016. I don't mind sharing that I am proud of that fact. This is a labor of love and vehicle for growth.

More than being something I love and that helps me grow, this blog is a way to share to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I try to do that in a credible way. At root, my blog was born as and hopefully remains an evangelical effort.

As my blog epigram puts it: "This is a public cyberspace in which I seek to foster Christian discipleship in the late modern milieu in the diakonia of koinonia and in the recognition that "the Eucharist is the only place of resistance to annihilation of the human subject."

I am glad that the Church prohibits the use of electronic devices for her liturgies. The use of the ritual books matters. Liturgy is analog and corporeal. In a word, incarnational.

One of the ways I try to share the Gospel is by a deep engagement with "secular" culture: books, movies, music, etc. There were ways that I came to faith and these also sustain my faith. One of the beautiful things about being Catholic and catholic is not to have to make some nutty hard-and-fast distinction between the sacred and the profane. Christ collapsed that.

Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Wednesday I read on article over on First Things by Stephen Adubato: "Rosalía’s Restless Heart." Let e clear, I claim no familiarity whatsoever with Rosalía's music. This article was my first exposure to her music.

Like me, Adubato is apparently a beneficiary of the work and charism of Monsignor Luigi Giussani. Giussani's "method," such as it is, lends itself nicely to attending to life, to looking at reality according to all the factors that make it up. This is indicated by Adubato's citation of Don Gius at the beginning and end of his article, citations that discuss music and celebate vocations.

I was very struck by a quote from the article- a citation from an interview with Rosalía:

The more we are in the era of dopamine,” she says, “the more I want the opposite. . . . There has to be something that pulls us . . . to be focused for an hour where you’re just there. I know it’s a lot to ask . . . but that’s what I’m craving

I think more and more people are craving something very like this as well. Just as Elijah did not find God in the wind, the earthquake, or the fire, God is not likely to be found in the dopamine hit to which so many of us have become addicted (see 1 Kings 19:11-13). Really, anything that adheres to the law of diminishing returns can't be God.

Como escribió el obispo dominico de la diócesis española de Sant Feliu de Llobregat sobre Rosalía después de escuchar Lux: «No consigo entenderte, pero me gustaría hacerlo.» As the Dominican bishop of the Spanish Diocese of Sant Feliu de Llobregar wrote about Rosalía after listening to her album Lux: "I don't understand you, but I'd like to."

Now I am listening to Lux. Hence, our traditio is a track from her album- "Dio es un stalker." Even for an English speaker that should be easy to translate. A bit different than "the hound of heaven," ¿verdad? The title of this post is my translation of lyrics from this song.

Hoy se conmemora la presentación de Nuestra Señora. Es una conmemoración muy especial para todos en la iglesia.

Memorial of Saint Elizabeth of Hungary

Readings: 1 Mac 1:10-15.41-43.54-57.62-63; Ps 119:53.134.150.153.158; Luke 18:35-43

Today the Church remembers Saint Elizabeth of Hungary. Had yesterday not been Sunday, it would’ve been the Memorial Saint Margaret of Scotland. The Church’s liturgical calendar contains many observances to remember holy women who lived in the Middles Ages, which spanned the millennium from the fifth through the fifteenth centuries. What is remarkable is the reason these holy women are remembered.

They are remembered and celebrated, almost without exception, for their charitable works on behalf of the poor. Born a princess, Elizabeth of Hungary was the daughter of the king of Hungary. At 14, she married the soon-to-be Landgrave of Thuringia, Louis IV. After six years of what by all accounts was a happy marriage that produced three children, Louis died while enroute to join the Sixth Crusade.

Widowed at 20, Elizabeth was given back her substantial dowry. She used this to build a hospital in Marburg, Germany. In this hospital she served the sick herself.

Elizabeth became an early member of Third Order Franciscans. She is the patroness of Third Order of Franciscans. In her widowhood she took vows of obedience, celibacy, and poverty with her confessor Konrad von Marburg. Like Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, Elizabeth died at age 24.

Jesus Christ is a healer of body and soul. Hence, caring for the sick is an important aspect of the Church’s pastoral ministry- one of the corporal works of mercy. In today’s Gospel, the Lord heals a blind beggar as He comes into Jericho to make His way up the mountain to Jerusalem. What is easy to miss is that while the man physically cannot see, he is not spiritually blind.

His spiritual sight is evidenced by the way he hails Jesus. Upon hearing that “Jesus of Nazareth” is passing by, the blind beggar cries out: “Son of David, have pity on me!"¹ This is a Messianic greeting, one Jesus didn’t often, if ever hear, during His Galilean ministry or as He made His way to Jerusalem. This blind man can see who He is- Son of David, the Messiah, the Mashiach, God’s Anointed One.

Saint Elizabeth of Hungary feeding the poor

This is confirmed when Jesus tells him, after receiving the blind man’s plea to see, “Have sight: your faith has saved you.”² This is move like the one Jesus made when the four men lowered their paralyzed friend through the roof of the house where Jesus was performing healings. Upon seeing this man, the Lord tells him his sins are forgiven.

These words cause consternation among some of those in the house I imagine to be lurking in the shadows. Then Jesus says, in order to prove He has the power to forgive sins, “I say to you, rise, pick up your stretcher, and go home,” which the man promptly did.³ Jesus gave the man his sight almost as if to say, "This is to show you (and the others) that I am the One you say I am."

In short, the blind beggar sees with an acuity nobody else seems to possess. This is why his humble plea for sight is given. But gaining or regaining his sight doesn’t save him. Through the eyes of faith, this man was able to see who Jesus is. This is the faith that saves. It is a gift from God.

The saints are those who, like the blind beggar, see who Jesus is and live accordingly, which is to live reality. Living this way pretty much without exception looks odd to others. For example, like Margaret of Scotland and Elizabeth of Hungary, not giving up wealth, power, and prestige by abandoning it but putting these in the service of the poor and disenfranchised.

To the world, living this way looks like squandering. But in reality, it shows that they understand this simple sum: Jesus+nothing=everything.

---

1 Luke 18:37-38.^↩
2 Luke 18:42.^↩
3 See Luke 5:17-26; Mark 2:1-12.^↩

Year C Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Malachi 3:19-20a; Psalm 98:5-9; 2 Thessalonians 3:7-12; Luke 21:5-19

When it’s all said and done what remains? What is left when everything is reduced to rubble? What can you take with you when you die? Why does it matter?

With the elapse of many centuries, even a couple of millennia, the eschatological or “apocalyptic” dimension of Christianity grows more attenuated. Much of the urgency expressed in Paul’s letters is tamped down. Given our increasingly empirical and existential attitudes, even when it comes to our faith, we may be in danger of losing this vital dimension of Christianity entirely.

Today is the penultimate Sunday of the liturgical year, which culminates with the great Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe. Add to that the fact that November is the month during which we remember as well as pray and sacrifice for our beloved dead, you get the feeling that it’s the end of the world.

This is precisely the feeling these observances are meant to evoke. Perhaps it’s better to say that what we look forward to during the final weeks of each year is the end of time. Time is up either when you die or when Christ returns. This realization should cause each of us to consider what really matters and to pattern our lives accordingly.

One spiritual discipline it’s important not to overlook is the practice of memento mori- “remember death.” Far from being a futile exercise in morbidity, memento mori helps one live sub specie aeternitatis- “under the aspect of eternity.” At the beginning of the first week of his Spiritual Exercises, Saint Ignatius of Loyola set forth their “Principle and Foundation.” The first sentence states: “Man is created to praise, reverence, and serve God our Lord, and by this means to save his soul.”¹

This echoes one of the first questions asked in the Baltimore Catechism. The response to the question Why did God make you? is God made me to know Him, love Him, and serve Him in this world and to be happy with Him forever in heaven.² Saint Ignatius goes on to insist, “It is necessary to keep as aim the end for which I am created.”³

In other words, everything should be done with the end for which I am made and redeemed firmly in mind. This is what it means to live under the aspect of eternity. Made in the image of God, each and every human person has a transcendent, that is, a spiritual dimension.

Despite various fanciful theories, at least the way we experience it, time only flows in one direction. This observation is what led the pre -Socratic Greek philosopher Heraclitus to note, “No one ever steps in the same river twice.”⁴ Or, as the Steve Miller band sang: “Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’ into the future.”⁵

None of us knows how much time we have left. Being a Christian, therefore, requires that I live not so much with a sense of urgency as with sense of purpose. Even so, scripture urges us to “consider the patience of our Lord as salvation.”⁶

Living purposefully requires an intention. The intention that shapes Christian life is realizing the end for which God created, redeemed, and for which He now seeks to sanctify you.

During the first two weeks of Advent, the Church remains focused on Christ’s return at the end of time. The aim is not fear but genuine conversion. Another word for this is repentance, which is usually reduced to being sorry for one’s sins.

But acknowledging and being contrite for your sins is only the beginning of repentance. It’s the mere recognition that you need to change and the stark realization of specifically how you must change to be transformed into the image of Christ.

Christ has no accidental disciples. Following Christ is an intentional choice that leads the one who makes it to live purposefully. What is the intention that constitutes this way of life? To abide by Christ’s teachings.

“This is the way we may know we are union with [the Lord],” scripture teaches, that we strive “to live just as he lived.”⁷ Is it possible to live this way? Yes, but not because it’s something you can achieve on your own. Living this way is not an achievement that earns you a reward. “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not from you; it is the gift of God; it is not from works so no one can boast.”⁸

In addition to making memento mori more than some goth-inspired fetish, hope is what enables, invites, entices you to live this way. Optimism is not synonymous with hope. The beginning of the fifth chapter of Romans gives us the topology of hope:

Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access [by faith] to this grace in which we stand, and we boast in hope of the glory of God⁹

Without Christ, there is no hope in death.

Because we boast in the hope of the glory of God, which is Jesus Christ raised from the dead, the apostle continues,

…we even boast of our afflictions, knowing that affliction produces endurance, and endurance, proven character, and proven character, hope, and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the holy Spirit that has been given to us¹⁰

Did you get that? Hope does not disappoint because God has poured His love into the heart of believers. Let’s ask again, When it’s all said and done what remains? What is left when everything is reduced to rubble? What can you take with you when you die? Let’s let Saint Paul respond:

So faith, hope, love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love¹¹

But the last of the questions with which we started remains unanswered: Why does it matter? Modified slightly, What difference does it make? Well, for the person who has experienced the outpouring of God’s love, the difference is out of this world. Christ invites you to experience this for yourself.

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1 Saint Ignatius of Loyola. Spiritual Exercises, First Week “Principle and Foundation.”^↩
2 Baltimore Catechism. Catechism 1, Lesson First: One the End of Man, Q6.^↩
3 Spiritual Exercises, The First Way, To Make a Sound and Good Election.^↩
4 Plato. Cratylus, 402a.^↩
5 Steve Miller Band. “Fly Like an Eagle.”^↩
6 2 Peter 3:15.^↩
7 See 1 John 2:5-6.^↩
8 Ephesians 2:8-9.^↩
9 Romans 5:1-2.^↩
10 See Romans 5:3-8.^↩
11 1 Corinthians 13:13.^↩

Institution of lectors

Since Friday kind of caught me flatfooted again, I am posting something I wrote this week that was not used. Lest it go to waste, I am posting it here.

As Director of the Office of the Diaconate for my diocese, I have been entrusted with forming new deacons. On Wednesday of last week, eight deacon Candidates for my diocese were instituted lectors by our bishop.

In 1967, Pope Paul VI promulgated, motu proprio the Apostolic Letter Ministeria Quaedam. With this, Paul VI abolished the minor orders of porter and exorcist. The orders of lector and acolyte remained. At that time, these two minor orders were reserved exclusively for men preparing for ordination.

Then, in January 2021, Pope Francis promulgated the Apostolic Letter Spiritus Domini. This Apostolic Letter was also promulgated motu proprio. In Spiritus Domini, the Holy Father revised Canon 230 § 1 of the Code of Canon Law to state: “Lay persons who possess the age and qualifications established by decree of the conference of bishops can be admitted on a stable basis through the prescribed liturgical rite to the ministries of lector and acolyte.” This includes women as well as men. At least to my knowledge the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops has issued no decree regarding this change.

With Pope Francis' change, lector and acolyte are no longer "minor orders." Rather, along with the order of catechist, these are now lay orders. Pope Francis established the order of catechist in his Apostolic Letter Antiquum Ministerium (this too he promulgated motu proprio). In December 2021, the Dicastery of for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments issued the Rite for the Institution of Catechists during Mass.

While it is not the case that men preparing for ordination are instituted as catechists, they are still instituted as lectors and, after a suitable period allowing for the exercise of the lector’s ministry, then also as acolytes. Prior to being instituted lectors, married men preparing for diaconal ordination must petition their bishop in writing asking to be installed as lectors. Additionally, each wife of a man preparing to be a deacon has to give her consent to the bishop in writing for him to take this step.

The core of the Rite for the Institution of Lectors mirrors the part of the Rite of Ordination for Deacons during which the ordaining bishop presents the ordinand with the Evangeliary. The person being instituted as a Lector kneels in front of the bishop. Placing in the hands of the one being instituted either a Bible or the Church’s Lectionary, the bishop says:

Take this book of holy Scripture
and be faithful in handing on the word of God
so that it may grow strong in the hearts of his people

To which the one being instituted responds: “Amen.”

It is the ministry of the lector is to study, know, teach, and proclaim Sacred Scripture.

Being instituted lector marks the second milestone the journey to ordination, the first being acceptance as a Candidate for the sacrament of orders by the bishop. Institution as acolytes, then, is the penultimate step on this pilgrimage.

Marking a milestone

In addition to today being the Memorial of Saint Martin of Tours, Armistice Day, and Veteran's Day, it is my birthday. It's my 60th one to be exact. That seems incredible to me to the point of being unbelieveable.

For a number of years I composed some pretty dense posts on my birthday. I haven't done that for a number of years. Rest easy, I am not going to do that today either.

Since this is my 20th year of year blogging, I have been doing this for a third of my life. That, too, seems unbelievable. But when something works, it works. Yes, I remain committed to my "blogspot page," substack smart asses notwithstanding. Besides, this is not a moneymaking or platform-building endeavor. It's for whoever wants to read it. As I have stated probably too much, this is a vehicle of growth for me personally.

While I still don't consider myself old, I am old enough to know that life is a strange journey. While my life isn't strange in any remarkable way, I have certainly gone through many phases, eras, transitions, ups and downs, etc. On the whole I have been both blessed and lucky. I am also not young.

Basilica of Saint Martin in Tours, France

This year, as consistent readers know, has been fitting for my sixtieth. There have been a lot of things swirling around, many things to discern as I begin a new decade. This makes life more interesting. When it comes to work and finances, I tend to play things very safely. The change I am looking to make, while it has some risk, isn't all that risky. Change, as they say, is hard.

Like most people, I suppose, I am not where I think I should be in many aspects of life. I guess there's the lazy assumption that you reach a point at which you've figured it out. For me, there is either no such point or not only have I not reached it, it isn't even in sight. But this, too, helps make my life worth living.

As a Christian, I am learning the fruitfulness of Eugene Peterson's long obedience in the same direction. A successful pilgrmage requires the pilgrim to keep on walking. Faltingly and haltingly, I follow the Galilean confident that I will enter that sabbath rest.

Saint Martin of Tours followed Christ. It changed his life completely. Saint Martin, until quite recently, one of Europe's most revered saints. On 11 November 2007, Pope Benedict XVI ended his Angelus address on Saint Martin with this exhortation:

that all Christians may be like St Martin, generous witnesses of the Gospel of love and tireless builders of jointly responsible sharing

Healing, watching

Well, I successfully posted a Friday traditio every Friday for 10 months. My reason for not posting one yesterday is that all week I have been in the throes of a pretty bad sinus infection. I am prone to sinus infections when the weather turns cold and dry. As I lay in bed with my humidifier going, waiting for the antibiotics to kick in, and staving off the headache that comes with coughing too much, I had the chance to watch three movies on the Criterion channel.

First, I watched the short documentary The Black and the Green by St. Clair Bourne. It is a short film about a group of American civil rights activists who traveled to Belfast in 1983 in midst of "The Troubles." Due to its brevity, the film isn't really fleshed out but is still quite good and shows the importance of solidarity among people who are truly oppressed.

I also watched a documentary that I believe was made in 1991 or at least begun in that year but not released until 2000. 1991 marked the 30th anniversary of the political assassination of a figure previously unknown to me: Patrice Lumumba, who served as Zaire's (now the Democratic Republic of Congo) first prime minister after that country gained independence from Belgium.

Simply titled Lumumba, Raoul Peck's documentary is a fascinating look about the rise to power of this former beer salesman and postal clerk but, moreover, of his swift fall from power and his brutal execution. He has been more or less forgotten. In the end, Lumumba only served for about 2 months as prime minister before being sacked by Zaire's first president.

Enrico Berlinguer

Shortly after these tumultous early months of independence, Zaire witnessed the rise of Mobutu Sesi Seko, who became a long serving and brutal dictator. It seems that prior to his fall, Lumumba was fairly close to Mobutu. Peck's documentary style mixes the past and the present and makes Lumumba a spectre haunting the film.

After he was killed, Lumumba's body was hacked to bits, scattered about, with some parts of his body dissolved in acid. So, his body was never found. Peck uses this to good effect in his haunting film, which highlights the dark underside of the post-WWII wave of independence in addition to the gross injustices of colonialization.

Finally, I watched Christopher Roth's Europe Endless 1: The Spectre of Eurocommunism. I have to say, this is a fascinating movie. The central figure of the movie is critical theorist Colin McCabe. It's a deeply interesting film. Of course, "spectre" in the title is meant to evoke the opening of The Communist Manifesto ("A spectre is haunting Europe...").

The key concept underlying the film is Gramsci's "hegemony." I guess the point of the movie was that social and political change don't have to be brought about by violent revolution. Rather, persistent striving after certain goals and winning people to your side is a better course of action. This begins with dissuading people from continually voting against their own interest. Like a lot of people, however, I remain skeptical of drift away from class and the consequent degradation into idpol.

The Spectre of Eurocommunism is no ham-fisted pro-Marxist movie. One of the more interesting parts of the movies is about how the Red Brigades' kidnapping and murder of Aldo Moro in 1978 was aimed at preventing political collaboration between the Italian Communist Party, led by the fascinating figure of Enrico Berlinguer, whose own sudden death in 1984 at age 62 was a blow from which the party never recovered, and the Christian Democrats.

Berlinguer died after spending four days in a coma as a result of the brain haemorrhage he suffered while giving a speech in Padua. He had broken the Italian party away from Moscow

Aldo Moro was close enough to Pope Saint Paul VI that the Holy Father considered him as something of a son. Moro's murder in May 1978 undoubtedly contributed to Pope Paul's rapid decline and death in August of that year. Moro was the bridge between the two parties. As Bob Marley asked, "How long shall they kill our prophets while we stand aside and look?"

Let it be said, especially as we gear up to celebrate the mother Church of Christianity- Saint John Lateran, the Pope's Cathedral as Bishop of Rome- that Berlinguer's funeral Mass was celebrated there in 1984.

I love the quote by Welsh socialist writer Raymond Williams used as the film's epilogue: "To be truly radical is to make hope possible rather than despair convincing." I am looking forward to watching the other two movies Europe Endless 2 and Europe Endless 3 once they are made and released.

Anyway, I am still too tired to write up any more detailed description of the the movies I was able to watch yesterday. Each one was fascinating and gave me a lot to consider given what we're living through politically. Especially as we witness the mere spectre of human solidarity once again unleashing a frightening rightwing backlash very much out of proportion to any "threat" by the nebulous "left."

At least in the U.S., the faux protestations of Phox Gnus notwithstanding, there is really not much of a genuine left to be concerned about. The craven and cynical populism and nationalism with which this backlash is laced is built on making despair convincing.

On Thursday, I also started to re-read Giorgio Agamben's State of Exception, which is the second volume (according to a revised order), of his Homo sacer series.

I changed my mind. So, even though it's Saturday, I am still posting a traditio. Kraftwerk's "Europe Endless" seems more than fitting:

Year 1 Monday of the Thirty-first Week in Ordinary Time (Mem: Saint Martin de Porres)

Readings: Romans 11:29-36; Psalm 69:30-31.33-34.36; Luke 14:12-14

Saint Martin de Porres was a Dominican lay brother. He was born to a Spanish father and a black mother in Lima, Peru, where he lived his whole life. He was friends with Saint Rose of Lima, who was herself a Third Order Dominican.

Saint Martin was a vegetarian, who refrained from eating meat as an act of austerity, poverty, and penance. Very much in the vein of Saint Francis of Assisi, Saint Martin cared for and befriended animals, especially strays. He was deeply devoted to the Eucharist and was constant in prayer.

Being mixed race himself, he showed great compassion for all people, regardless of their race or social status. At least until recently, this sounded pretty mundane to us but in his time and place this disposition stood out. Having received some medical training, his primary work was in the infirmary taking care of the sick. Saint Martin also distributed food and alms to the poor and needy in Lima.

Saint Martin is particularly remembered for ministering to waves of newly enslaved Africans who were brought to Lima, most of whom were destined for difficult and short lives in the mines. He was adamant that the innate dignity of all human beings be recognized and respected. Again, this was a bit revolutionary for the time and place. He was a vocal opponent of slavery and the mistreatment of the poor.

It is tempting to say that Saint Martin de Porres was ahead of his time. What is really the case is simply that he took the Gospel of Jesus Christ to heart and endeavored to live it. No matter that age or epoch, seeking to radically live the teachings of Christ is countercultural and often viewed as threatening and subversive.

In his life and ministry, Saint Martin certainly lived out quite directly what Jesus teaches in our Gospel this evening. By his medically attending to, feeding, housing, and being with the crippled, the blind, the lame, and the poor Saint Martin, as a lay religious (he was not a priest nor was he a deacon), he did as Christ taught.

But the Lord did only teach His followers to give to those who cannot repay, He paid a debt He didn’t owe, to quote an old hymn, for me, who owed a debt I could not pay. Considering our reading from Saint Paul’s Letter to the Romans, we are to do for others what God has done for us: extend love, care, and mercy that cannot be repaid.

Showing forth the diakonia of all the baptized, Saint Martin taught “Pray not for wealth or success, but for the opportunity to serve others.” He also offers this insight: “If you want to find true happiness, look for it in making others happy.” The shortest route to unhappiness and dissatisfaction is to become obsessed with your own happiness and satisfaction. Yet, this bad advice is given and taken all the time!

For those of us who grapple with depression, it is important to rediscover the truth of Saint Martin’s insight about the balm of serving others. Getting “outside” of ourselves is often a good remedy. Far from being other people, hell is isolation and self-absorption.

Heeding Pope Francis, I will end on a hopeful note. Saint Martin, noted something echoed by Pope Benedict in his first encyclical Deus caritas est, namely “When you give to others, you not only give them food and material things, but you also give them hope and a reason to believe in a better future.”

Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed (All Souls)

Readings: Wisdom 3:1-9; Psalm 23:1-6; Romans 5:5-11; John 6:37-40

“All Souls” is the shorthand designation for today’s observance. Its actual name is The Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed. Yesterday’s solemnity of All Saints is our annual celebration of what has traditionally been called “the Church triumphant.” This commemoration is done on behalf of “the Church penitent,” that is, the souls in purgatory.

Two ways in which our Catholic faith can said to be in danger of being “protestantized” in our culture is the demise of the cult of the saints and gradual disappearance of purgatory. Purgatory is then replaced with either de facto universalism, which holds that everyone who is “a pretty good” person goes to heaven or by a simple binary: heaven or hell, determined immediately at death.

But purgatory, along with hell, remain very real parts of the Catholic faith. While it is God who judges, not us, Tradition teaches that our default position is that we can and should be of some assistance to virtually all our beloved dead. Hence, in every Mass, we pray for the dead.

In the seventh (of eight) part of the Eucharistic Prayer, a part simply called in English “Intercessions,” we pray for the dead. For example, in the four Eucharistic Prayers for Various Needs we pray:

Remember our brothers and sisters…, who have fallen asleep in the peace of your Christ, and all the dead, whose faith you alone have known. Admit them to rejoice in the light of your face, and in the resurrection give them the fullness of life¹

The format of the Universal Prayer, commonly called “The Prayers of the Faithful,” includes a petition or petitions for the dead. The very fact that we pray for the dead indicates that some, probably many, of our dearly departed family and friends benefit from our prayers. Our prayers assist them as they make their way into God’s holy presence.

All Hallows Eve is known among some as Reformation Day-commemorating Martin Luther’s proclamation of his famous (or infamous) 99 Theses. Initially and for several years afterwards, apart from their manifest abuse, which he rightly protested, Luther had no issue with indulgences per se. Indulgences have not been abolished by the Church, even now.

On the contrary, Indulgences are still to be sought both for us and for the dead. We are coming to the end of a Jubilee Year. During each Jubilee year there is the possibility of obtaining a Jubilee indulgence.

In his Bull of Indiction for this year’s Jubilee, promulgated 9 May 2024, Pope Francis, in addition to allowing for the possibility of obtaining a plenary indulgence, noted “The Jubilee indulgence, thanks to the power of prayer, is intended in a particular way for those who have gone before us, so that they may obtain full mercy.”²

When we confess our sins and express true contrition, have our sins absolved, and make satisfaction by completing the penance given, the eternal punishment for our sins is removed. But the temporal punishments remain. In his Apostolic Constitution Indulgentarium Doctrina, promulgated on New Year’s Day 1967, a little more than a year after the close of the Second Vatican Council, Pope Saint Paul VI explained temporal punishment:

These punishments are imposed by the just and merciful judgment of God for the purification of souls, the defense of the sanctity of the moral order and the restoration of the glory of God to its full majesty. Every sin in fact causes a perturbation in the universal order established by God in His ineffable wisdom and infinite charity, and the destruction of immense values with respect to the sinner himself and to the human community³

Mother Church grants indulgences for performing good deeds. These good deeds help God in the divine mission of setting the world aright. Indulgences can be partial or sometimes plenary, meaning full or complete.

To be granted any indulgence, in addition to making the “indulgent” act, one must make a confession and receive communion. To gain a plenary indulgence, one must also say a prayer for the intention of the Pope (Pope Leo’s prayer intention for November is for those who struggle with suicidal thoughts) and have no attachment to sin, even venial sin. In addition to doing the good deed, the conditions for a partial indulgence are confession and communion.

From 1-8 November, you can gain a plenary indulgence that is only applicable to the souls in purgatory by meeting the above conditions and then visiting a cemetery. You must visit the cemetery within a few days of your confession and communion.

In a catechesis on Saint Catherine of Genoa, whose best-known spiritual work is her Treatise on Purgatory, Pope Benedict XVI noted that Catherine “did not see purgatory as a scene in the bowels of the earth.” Rather, for her purgatory is “an interior fire.” From the instant of her conversion, “Catherine suddenly became aware of God’s goodness, of the infinite distance of her own life from this goodness and of a burning fire within her. And this is the fire that purifies, the interior fire of purgatory.”⁴ This is nothing other than the fire of divine love.

Finally, Pope Benedict insisted that Saint Catherine’s Treatise “reminds us of a fundamental truth of faith that becomes for us an invitation to pray for the deceased so that they may attain the beatific vision of God in the Communion of Saints.”⁵

“Chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed,” we heard in our reading from the Book of Wisdom, along with “As gold in the furnace, he proved them,” and “In the time of their visitation they shall shine, and shall dart about as sparks through stubble.”⁶ These also tell of the purifying fire of divine love. As Sacred Scripture reveals: “our God is a consuming fire.”⁷

Dear friends, along with veneration of the saints and purgatory, praying for the dead and seeking indulgences remain vital parts of Catholic faith and practice. Christ has given us these means of grace through His Church to use for ourselves and for the sanctification of our beloved dead. Today’s Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed provides a good starting point to live our faith more fully.

As the title for Pope Francis’ Bull of Indiction for this year’s Jubilee, taken from our reading from Romans, declares: Spes non confundit- “Hope does not disappoint.”⁸

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1 Roman Missal. Eucharistic Prayers For Various Needs I-IV For Reconciliation II, sec 7.^↩
2 Pope Francis. Bull of Indiction of the Ordinary Jubilee of the Year 2025 [Spes Non Confundit], sec. 22.^↩
3 Pope Paul VI. Apostolic Constitution Indulgentarium Doctrina, sec. 2.^↩
4 Pope Benedict XVI. General Audience: Saint Catherine of Genoa, 12 January 2011.^↩
5 Ibid.^↩
6 Wisdom 3:5-7.^↩
7 Hebrews 12:29.^↩
8 Romans 5:5..^↩