Unmasking our often invisible and ineffectual religiosity

During August's International Assembly of Responsibles of Communion and Liberation, Prof. Marta Cartabia, who teaches constitutional law at the University of Milan, gave a witness about a year she spent teaching at New York University. Towards the beginning of her remarks she staked out what she would speak about: "'Without Christ,' then, does not mean that religion is missing in people's lives. But from what I saw [during a year living in New York], it is an invisible and ineffectual religiosity..."

Quoting from E.L. Fortin's essay, The Regime of Separation: Theoretical Considerations on the Separation of Church and State, she states her thesis:

"Nietzsche has warned us a long time ago that God's death is perfectly compatible with 'bourgeois religiosity'... . He did not think for a moment that religion was finished. What he questioned was whether religion can move a person and open up one's mind... . Religion has become a consumer's good, a form of entertainment among others, a source of comfort for the weak... or an emotional service station, meant to satisfy certain irrational needs that it can address better than anything else. One-sided as it may sound, Nietzsche's opinion is right on" (from Living is Memory of Me Assembly of Responsibles of Communion and Liberation).

At least with regard not only to religion, but particularly to Christianity in the United States, Fortin hits the nail on the head. Philosophically, I would say that this results from our pragmatism. After all, William James didn't devise Varieties of Religious Experience out of thin air. This same kind of pragmatism, which accommodates itself very well to secularism either by gladly stepping to the sidelines, or by going to the extreme and self-consciously operating on the fringes of public discourse, seems all too evident. In either case faith is reduced, which results in the invisible and ineffectual religiosity Prof. Cartabia experienced during her year at New York University. Whether faith gladly takes a powder or moves to the extreme, like staking out positions rooted in a peculiar form of biblicism, there is a discernible split between believing and knowing

Charles Taylor's revisiting of James' Varieties several years ago demonstrates the tendency for religious belief to become an exercise in navel-gazing because it is reduced to belief and doubt in the lives of individual persons. This approach renders faith, or what passes for faith (i.e., a believing that remains at odds with experience, with knowing and deeply suspicious about what is believed), as a form of relativism, not an encounter with the Truth, who became incarnate for our sakes.

It is precisely this relativism that reduces the Church as nothing more than a human polity in the minds of many. Viewing the ekklesia in this way quickly leads to ideological battles in the Church and the overall reduction of faith to ideology, be it of the left or the right, when it comes to how the Church gives witness to the world. This is why the brilliance of PP. Benedictus XVI shines forth so brightly, as we all witnessed during his recent apostolic journey to Great Britain. Faith is reduced in many ways, to moralism, to sentimentality, but also to suspicion, to intellectual and practical unease, which results in an inability to fully live, to fully embrace, the One we constantly implore, like the disciples in last Sunday's Gospel, "increase our faith," in the confidence he will answer our humble request, borne of our affective weakness and near constant distraction. As Bl. John Henry Newman observed- "Ten thousand difficulties do not make one doubt." Hence, we need an effective method to verify His faithfulness, which cannot be other than an unusual approach to Christian existence.

Veni Sancte Spiritus, Veni per Mariam

"To watch it all burn away, burn away"

This is such a great song on so many levels, certainly a great song as fall sets in. Grapevine Fires by Deathcab for Cutie is our meditative Friday traditio- it's like a down tempo 'It's the End of the World as We Know It (I Feel Fine)'. A mediative and personalized apocalypse (Ἀποκάλυψις = unveiling) as summer dies.

"We watched the plumes paint the sky gray/
She laughed and danced through the field of graves/
And there I knew it would be all right"

My dear Don Giussani describes what this burning away is all about:

"Christians may not win. This is exactly the point: that we always win, even if we were to be always defeated, where ‘winning’ is realizing a greater humanity, and ‘being defeated’ means not having power. As one of you said once in a discussion: ‘We aim for a victory without power!’ This was what he meant. It’s the victory of the human. By facing life according to faith, we achieve a victory of the human, our gesture is more human. This does not mean that our position prevails politically, economically, and so on, that we attain power." Luigi Giussani, (The I is Reborn in an Encounter via Cahier Péguy).

In these days during which the impulse to make a political powerplay, to assert ourselves in an ideological way, this is a good reminder. We live and speak the truth with great love, saying "Yes" over and again to the One we serve, who asks nothing less of us than our entire selves.

Veni Sancte Spiritus, Veni per Mariam

Memorial of Our Lady of the Rosary

October is the month during which we pray the rosary more and with more fervor. Today marks the liturgical memorial of Our Lady of the Rosary. As Owen Cummings wrote in his wonderful little book, Thinking About Prayer: "For countless generations of Catholics, living and dead, daily praying has taken the familiar shape of the rosary..." The second of two epigraphs that stand at the beginning of his chapter on the rosary is by Warren Dicharry, an insight that links October (the month of the rosary) to November (the month during which we remember our beloved dead), just as the Hail Mary does:

"When our brief candle is wasted and this body is laid to final rest, someone may very carefully wrap a rosary around our hands. It is our proper rest. Only thus can we slip decently into the next life. Only thus are we ready to meet our Maker. Whether or not we ever prayed the Rosary during our life, whether the Rosary ever nestled gently in our hands, often our relatives and friends would not consider it fitting to bury us in any other way."

Veni Sancte Spiritus, Veni per Mariam

Divine Mercy, the limit to evil in the world and in our own hearts

Our celebration of the saints continues today with the Memorial of St. Faustina Kowalska, to whom our Lord appeared and delivered, again, His message of Divine Mercy.

It is easy to get bogged down when we look at the world and even in our own hearts and see darkness. We become like modern day psalmists, lamenting that the wicked seem to prosper while the righteous seem relegated to suffering. Sometimes this even seems true in our own experience: when I behave like everyone else I seem to get ahead, but when I really seek to live for Christ things seem to take a turn for the worse. This is not foreign to anyone who seeks to follow Christ in an intentional way. This forces us to ask, by what criteria do I judge reality, my own experience? All too often according to Freud's pain/pleasure principle. To paraphrase Bl. Teresa of Calcutta- worldly success is not a Gospel category. A cursory look at the even the lives of the Little Flower and St. Faustina, both of whom lived in cloisters, will show us this! In the very beautiful first part of his book Memory and Identity: Conversations at the Dawn of a Millennium, Pope John Paul II, who, like St. Faustina, was a Pole, writes about the "limit imposed upon evil."

He observes that one cannot "think of the limit placed by God himself upon the various forms of evil without reference to the mystery of Redemption." He goes on to ask, "Could the mystery of Redemption be the response to that historical evil which, in different forms, continually recurs in human affairs?" All too easily we can come to see "the evil of concentration camps, of gas chambers, of police cruelty, of total war, and of oppressive regimes - evil which, among other things, systematically contradicts the message of the Cross - it can seem...that such evil is more powerful than any good." But if we pay close attention to history "we discover that this is precisely where the victorious presence of Christ's Cross is most clearly revealed." Against a dark background the light shines forth more brightly. For "those subjected to systematic evil, there remains only Christ and his Cross as a source of spiritual self-defense, as a promise of victory."

If the Cross of Christ "marks the divine limit placed upon evil, it is for this reason only: because thereby evil is radically overcome by good, hate by love, death by resurrection." Hence, our taking up our Cross daily and laying our lives down in loving service to others for "the sake of His sorrowful passion" is the only way to experience resurrection, that is, life, in the words of St. Augustine to the widow Proba, that is truly life! This is what I call the inverse property of redemption: no Easter without Good Friday and Good Friday makes no sense apart from Easter morning.

Divine mercy is the limit placed on human evil. So, the more often I acknowledge my own need, which is also my deepest desire, the more God's mercy given me in Christ Jesus sanctifies me, helps me first to resist and then overcome evil by grace. Devotion to Divine Mercy, just like devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, is so much more than a conglomeration of a bunch of self-absorbed pious acts and half-mumbled prayers. It is a way to live the Gospel fully, which is nothing other than participating fully in the mystery of Redemption.

St. Faustina, pray for us.

"For the sake of His sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world."

"We love because he first loved us"

The recent highly publicized suicides of five homosexual young men, the most notable being Tyler Clementi, the Rutgers University student who jumped off the George Washington Bridge after having a sexual encounter with another male, which was clandestinely recorded, posted on the internet by a couple of his friends. On top of all this comes a talk delivered at this weekend's semi-annual General Conference of the LDS church by the President of their Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, Elder Boyd K. Packer. Personally, I think Elder Packer's comparing what he sees as the natural law with physical laws most unfortunate, a true case of comparing apples to oranges. "A law against nature would be impossible to enforce. Do you think a vote to repeal the law of gravity would do any good?" No, at least not within the earth's atmosphere. But then, as I live on earth, I have no choice with regard to obeying the law of gravity, whereas I have a choice with regard to obeying the natural law as he conceives it. My understanding is that homosexuality, with very, very few possible exceptions, is not chosen. The crux of the issue human freedom.

The Catechism states that homosexuality "has taken a great variety of forms through the centuries and in different cultures. Its psychological genesis remains largely unexplained" (2357). The Catechism goes on say that homosexual persons "must be accepted with respect, compassion, and sensitivity. Every sign of unjust discrimination in their regard should be avoided" (2358). Now, before I field comments pointing out that the quotes I cite from the Catechism are "clipped," avoiding the more controversial parts, I plead guilty. My reason for doing so is that most of the time we focus on those parts to the exclusion of the parts I quote. I think Fr. Jim Martin makes much the same point in his post over on America magazine's All Things blog- What is a Catholic response to gay suicide?.

Tyler Clementi

One distinguishing characteristic of Christian faith is respect for persons, not just respect, but reverence. We all bear the imago dei without exception. I was on retreat with my fellow deacons this past weekend. Fr Ray Carey was our retreat master. He brought this message home so clearly in our very first conference Friday evening, making it axiomatic for everything else he shared with us from his great learning and wisdom. For me, the tragedy of all this is how ideological, political, and polarizing sexuality becomes with one side wanting to reduce our humanity to our sexual orientation and the other refusing to truly see the other, the one who differs from me; this amounts to a genuine lack of empathy. These sides serve the common goal of separating us from each other by reducing faith to morality. Yes, being moralistic is something people on both sides engage in to the point of nausea, which is why this all becomes so heated, polarizing, so alienating. I think many young men who are experiencing a crisis with regard to their sexuality get caught in this crucible, which is why I think the most relevant thing Fr. Martin writes is "there is one life-changing resource in the Christian tradition that transform[s] those who feel unloved--that is, Jesus." Too often these tragedies are employed for ideological purposes.

I care infintely more about the well-being and happiness of young people, like Tyler, than I do about the political battle over marriage, or even to arguing about morality. I cannot repeat too strongly an insight by Fr. Timothy Radcliffe: Christians are not in the business of issuing moral edicts, or even discussing morality with anyone who does not know, who has not experienced for her/himself, God's love given them in Christ Jesus! We have to have faith in the Word of God, in the love of God, to change lives.

Jesus loves you is a cliché, but it isn't just true, it is the most important thing you can know! He loves us all so very much. He looks on each of us with such tenderness: "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love. We love because he first loved us" (1 John 4:18-19- ESV). This Scripture tells me that once I realize how much I am loved everything else will take of itself, as long as I make God's love for me central to my life. Let's remember that fear of the Lord is only the beginning of wisdom, not wisdom's end, which is loving God because He first loved me. My identity, who I am by virtue of my baptism, is a son of God, everything else about me is secondary at best!

Another problem is a genuine failure to respect the person of Tyler Clementi by his friends. The recording and posting of his intimate encounter does not seem to be motivated by anti-gay bias, like, say, the murder of Matthew Shepherd. Rather, their failure to respect their friend arises from a diminishing recognition of the right we all have to privacy. Another person's sex life, even their sexual orientation, is none of my business, unless they choose to share something with me as a friend, or as a pastoral minister. If somebody tells me they are sexually exploiting another, or being sexually exploited by another, especially a minor, I am required to report them to the appropriate authorities. In all instances I have to draw clear boundaries and to act responsibly, that is, ethically. In other words, I don't need to know everything, I don't want to know everything, especially when it comes to relations between consenting adults.

Fr. Martin ends his post with a beautiful prayer. I won't post the whole thing because I want you to read his post, but it begins:

"Loving God, you made me who I am. I praise you and I love you, for I am wonderfully made, in your own image.

"But when people make fun of me, I feel hurt and embarrassed and even ashamed. So please God, help me remember my own goodness, which lies in you. Help me remember my dignity, which you gave me when I was conceived. Help me remember that I can live a life of love, because you created my heart."

Veni Sancte Spiritus, Veni per Mariam

St. Francis of Assisi

In addition to being a month we dedicate to praying the Most Holy Rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary more fervently, October is also a month for celebrating great saints. Following closely on the heels of Friday's Memorial of St. Thérèse, is today's Memorial of St. Francis of Assisi, my brother deacon, who is likely the church's best known saint. There are so many stories about St. Francis that it boggles my mind. Often St. Francis is seen as something of a proto-hippie. This image of Francesco di Bernardone was popularized by Michael Curtiz's film adaptation of Louis de Wohol's novel about St. Francis, The Joyful Beggar- Brother Sun, Sister Moon, which is my least favorite film about St. Francis.

My favorite film about St. Francis remains Roberto Rossellini's The Flowers of St. Francis, released in 1950. Rossellini's film is based on a fourteenth century book, Little Flowers of St. Francis (I guess it is a good thing the Little Flower wrote her autobiography and entitled it The Story of a Soul instead of having her Carmelite sisters collect Little Flowers of the Little Flower- maybe Pedals of the Little Flower!). The original book is a collection of stories handed down about the life of St. Francis and his early followers. Rossellini's film is a masterpiece of Italian neo-realism. With the exception of actor Aldo Fabrizi, who plays a small, but very entertaining, supporting role, the entire cast is comprised of regular people. Of course, this is what makes it post-war Italian neo-realism. St. Francis and his early followers are played by actual Franciscan friars.

At least for me, this scene in which St. Francis encounters a leper and embraces him as he would Christ, is the most moving scene of the entire film:

With St. Francis we pray, "Let everyone be struck with fear, let the whole world tremble, and let the heavens exult, when Christ, the Son of the living God, is present on the altar in the hands of a priest. Oh stupendous dignity! O humble sublimity, that the Lord of the universe, God and the Son of God, so humbles himself that for our salvation he hides himself under an ordinary piece of bread" (From the Wednesday catechesis of PP. Benedictus XVI on St. Francis of Assisi, 27 January 2010).

Veni Sancte Spiritus, Veni per Mariam

St. Thérèse of Lisieux, Little Flower

It is lovely that October begins with the Memorial of the Little Flower, our beloved St. Thérèse of Lisieux. She passed into eternity on 30 September 1897. It would be difficult to describe the impact she has had on the lives of so many people in the span of less than a century. Come to think of it, it would be difficult to describe her impact on my life. Along with St. Martin of Tours, St. Stephen, St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross (a.k.a. Édith Stein), St. Mary Magdalen, and (a very special friend of mind) St. Gianna Molla, she is a presence in my life. I am always moved by Édith Piaf's devotion to her. In fact, the Little Flower cured her from blindness when Edith was seven, even before she was canonized.

Piaf, the famous French chanteuse, lived something of a dissolute and unhappy life. She was born under difficult circumstances and was raised in a brothel, where her maternal grandmother was the madam. One of the women who worked there took an interest in little Édith and taught her devotion to the Little Flower, to whose protection and intercession Edith entrusted herself throughout her tumultuous life. So, it is easy for me to imagine how much affection and tenderness the Little Flower must have for her dear Édith, being so moved by her great need. I cried the night that Marion Cotillard, who portrayed Edith in the amazing film La Vie en Rose, won the Academy Award for best actress because all Édith Piaf ever wanted was to be loved, which caused her to take tremendous risks and to pay a high price. I thought of how loved she was that night. I hoped that she, with her beloved Little Flower, were looking down.

The Little Flower was formally raised to the altar on 17 May 1925 by Pope Pius XI. Like all people of true sanctity from the beginning of the Church, the Little Flower was venerated before she was formally canonized, the veneration being the cause of her canonization. While I am not a big fan of popes canonizing popes, the cries of "Santo Subito" issuing forth from the lips of millions at the death of our dear Papa Wojtyla, are quite compelling.

So, in answer to a question posed to me yesterday about how to pray, I offer the response of a Doctor of the Church:

"For me, prayer is a movement of the heart; it is a simple glance toward Heaven; it is a cry of gratitude and love in times of trial as well as in times of joy; finally, it is something great, supernatural, which expands my soul and unites me to Jesus. . . . I have not the courage to look through books for beautiful prayers.... I do like a child who does not know how to read; I say very simply to God what I want to say, and He always understands me."

Among those who wrote about and/or openly discussed their devotion to the Little Flower, in addition Édith Piaf, are Papa Luciani, Thomas Merton, Dorothy Day, Jack Kerouac, and Jean Vanier.

So, our traditio today certainly befits the start of a month as auspicious as October- Édith Piaf singing The Hymn to Love- L'Hymne à l'amour

I certainly ask her intercession as the deacons of the Diocese of Salt Lake City go on retreat, beginning this afternoon. Besides, I have Deacon (Dr.) Owen Cummings to thank for so closely associating the Little Flower with Édith Piaf in my heart and even for opening my heart to them in the first place. I am truly grateful because if there is no concreteness to what I believe, then it becomes just so many nice thoughts. Prior to my ordination retreat, when he spoke of my dear Édith in relation to the Little Flower, I had no devotion to St. Thérèse at all. It was at this same retreat I was introduced to the need we all have of building a community of the heart, to which Édith Piaf and St. Thérèse both belong.

St. Thérèse, Little Flower, pray for us.

Veni Sancte Spiritus, Veni per Mariam