Dostoevsky, Nietzsche, Schopenhauer, Zola Jesus

Our Friday traditio this week is by the one-woman "group" Zola Jesus, Clay Bodies . Nika Roza Danilova is that one woman and an incredible one at that. One of her major influences is the late Joy Division singer Ian Curtis, who is someone whose music means a lot to me as well.

I love Danilova's aesthetic, but particularly this video, which put me in mind of stills I have seen of Helena Bonham Carter as Miss Havisham from the upcoming film version of Dickens' Great Expectations

Danilova said in an interview a few years ago, "I probably read Dostoevsky and Nietzsche before I should have. I was always really into absorbing things from the past." This is why Clay Bodies is perfect for a traditio

Still converting my inner Pharisee

I posted this not quite a year ago on another venue. It's funny how much has happened since then and how little I have changed. But my desire has not diminished, which is a good sign. After writing this, due to events, I read Peterson's Five Smooth Stones for Pastoral Ministry, but that story was told...

When we encounter Christ in an unmistakable way we are changed. Nonetheless, after such encounters we are often left with the question, "What do I do now?" or "What comes next?" Eugene Peterson observes in the first volume of his spiritual theology, Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places: A Conversation in Spiritual Theology, that "[a] common and distressingly frequent way of answering this question...is to come up with a Code of Conduct." In the parlance of younger people, you tend to "Go all Pharisee on yourself." Peterson goes on to point out that Scripture gives us multiple places to begin: the Decalogue (I like using that instead of 10 Commandments because it makes me sound smarter!), Jesus' Two Great Commandments, the Golden Rule and even the Beatitudes. Of course, each of these is important and together they give us divine guidance on how to love, which is what it really means to live.

When our response becomes exclusively about establishing a Code of Conduct, even if initially rooted in biblical injunctions and well-intentioned, we are "rarely, if ever, able to let it go at that." We give in to the temptation to make a rule for every aspect of life and so "rules are added" and "regulations are enforced and it isn't long before the Code of Conduct grows into a formidable jungle of talmudic regulation." In keeping with the physical law that often proves true socially- for action there is an equal and opposite reaction, there is the minimalist tendency that enjoins you to "Follow Your Bliss," "Do no harm," something about karma running over dogma, visualizing whirled peas, etc. Peterson concludes that "the fundamental inadequacy of codes of conduct for giving direction in how to live the spiritual life is that they put us in charge (or, which is just as bad, put someone else in charge of us)." In such a self-defeating set-up "God gets moved off the field of action to the judge's stand where he grades our performance. The moment we take charge, 'knowing good from evil,' we are in trouble and almost immediately getting other people in trouble too."

None of this is to deny to the overall usefulness of codes of conduct, but they are not primary and probably not even secondary. For those of us who follow the charism given to Luigi Giussani, which is known by the short-hand Communion & Liberation, or even as The Movement, all of the above looks familiar and we have an abbreviated way of referring to this all-too-human phenomenon Peterson describes: the reduction of faith to morals. So, it is important to note that Eugene Peterson is an Evangelical Protestant, a retired Presbyterian minister to be precise. He also taught spiritual theology at Regent's University in Vancouver, British Columbia until 2006. I point this out to show how truly radical the method set forth by Don Gius is in its Catholic milieu. He shows us that to follow Christ, to live this way, is a loving response to truth, goodness and, above all, beauty, not painting by the numbers, something Catholicism can easily become.

I am reminding myself of this because as one year ends and a new one begins, it is all too easy to reflect on what needs to change in me and what I need to change. This leads me to make lists and resolutions that look great on paper, but that I know I will break likely sooner than later. Of course, this is not to say I won't make resolutions, but hopefully fewer and better resolutions (not using "hopefully" in the throw away sense) while realizing that what really needs to change in me is a work of grace.

Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception

And the angel Gabriel came to Mary and said, "'Greetings, O favored one, the Lord is with you!' But she was greatly troubled at the saying, and tried to discern what sort of greeting this might be. And the angel said to her, 'Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end'... And Mary said, 'Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word...'" (Luke 1:28-33.38a ESV).

Immaculate Conception, Bartolomé Esteban Murillo, painted 1665-1670

"But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, 'Abba! Father!' So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God" (Galatians 4:4-7 ESV).

"And a great sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars. She was pregnant and was crying out in birth pains and the agony of giving birth... She gave birth to a male child, one who is to rule all the nations with a rod of iron, but her child was caught up to God and to his throne..." (Revelation 12:1-2.5a ESV).

"We declare, pronounce, and define that the doctrine which holds that the most Blessed Virgin Mary, in the first instance of her conception, by a singular grace and privilege granted by Almighty God, in view of the merits of Jesus Christ, the Savior of the human race, was preserved free from all stain of original sin, is a doctrine revealed by God and therefore to be believed firmly and constantly by all the faithful." (Pope Pius IX Ineffabilis Deus, 1854).

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Veni Sancte Spiritus, veni per Mariam

Memorial of St. Nicholas

The story of St. Nicholas, bishop of Myrna, is well-known. What is perhaps less well-known is his cult, which developed shortly after his death. His tomb (he was originally buried in his native Myrna) became a pilgrimage destination. As Asia Minor, what is modern-day Turkey, became more and more unstable politically, there was increasing concern that pilgrims may be denied access to his tomb. Largely due to the commercial considerations of becoming a popular pilgrimage destination, the Italian cities of Venice and Bari competed have the great saint's remains transferred to their respective cities. In AD 1087, sailors from Bari succeeded to laying claim to Nicholas' bones. Once in Bari a large church was built over the crypt, Basilica di San Nicola, in which the saintly bishop's remains were re-interred. It became a major pilgrimage destination, making Bari one of the most popular places of pilgrimage in medieval Europe. It remains even today a place of pilgrimage. St. Nicholas is patron of children, sailors, and, because according to tradition he once provided dowry money for some poor young woman so they could married, St. Nicholas is also the patron of young women whose prayer is to find a husband. It is still a known practice that some young women who hope to be married come to his basilica his feast day, leave a note and place 3 coins in a box.

Tomb of St. Nicholas in la Basilia di San Nichola in Bari, Italy

It just didn't seem right to let this day pass without posting something about St. Nicholas. Along with Santa Lucia's memorial, this day is the biggest day of Advent, apart from Sundays, for our family, a little preview of Gaudete Sunday. We relax a little, eat some sweets and exchange very simple gifts. Yes, the sweets were mostly chocolate coins!

St. Nicholas, pray for us!

Beware the "pneumata akatharta"

Slow as I am, I am still working my way through Joseph Mangina's theological commentary on Revelation, while simultaneously reading through Revelation during Advent. I hope to cycle through the ultimate book of Sacred Scripture at least twice more before Christmas, enriched by Mangina's insights, before Christmas.

This morning I was reading Mangina's treatment of the sixteenth chapter of the Apocalypse and I was struck by two things. First, by Mangina's pointing out John's insistence on the power of speech, what he says is "John's view of the uncanny, almost magical quality of speech itself." This observation leads Mangina to conclude, "It is not the hard power of legions and armor that the Christian should fear. Far more dangerous is the soft power of speech, language, and propaganda."

A few pages later, commenting on Revelation 16:17-21, Mangina writes about the seventh angel, who, like the other six angels, is given a bowl with a plague to be poured out, who "pours his bowl out upon the air," thus fouling the air, which, as another commentator cited by Mangina, Swete, noted, air is necessary to sustain life. Even before the seventh angel pours out the final plague, the common air, according to Mangina, "has been fouled by the pneumata akatharta, the 'unclean spirits or 'breaths' of the dragon, beast, and false prophet," who together constitute an unholy anti-Trinity. Mangina goes on to say that especially in an age when we are rightly concerned about the effects of human activity on the earth's atmosphere, "it is tempting to think of the ways in which unbridled consumption has poisoned the physical atmosphere," he insists that instead, "it might be more apt to think of the poisoning of the air by human thought and speech." He immediately points to the phenomenon of the "blogosphere," noting "its particular venom." "The lack of charity" so evident in this interconnected web of human interaction, according to Mangina, "is its own kind of poison." Those of who constitute the very loosely constituted Catholic blogosphere must take our share of the responsibility for its spiritual climate.

Indeed, as Mangina notes, "[t]here are spiritual climates as well as meteorological ones." He insists, rightly to my mind, "What John depicts here is more than just the ordinary sinful corruption of the human air, but its demonic radicalization at the end of time." Keep in mind that etymology of the word "demon," which is Greek in origin, before it is about invisible, goblin-like entities, simply means "to divide." In Christian terms, it is important to note that, even in Revelation, it is God who does all the dividing. These are certainly sobering and useful things to consider of an Advent Monday.

Lest all of this sound too dire, it is important to state that not all human speech poisons the air. Writing about unity of Christ's Body, which unity inheres in a diversity of persons and gifts, and how to maintain this Spirit-given unity, St. Paul, in his Letter to the Ephesians, instructs us:

No foul language should come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for needed edification, that it may impart grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the holy Spirit of God, with which you were sealed for the day of redemption. All bitterness, fury, anger, shouting, and reviling must be removed from you, along with all malice. [And] be kind to one another, compassionate, forgiving one another as God has forgiven you in Christ (Eph. 4:29-32)

To avoid moving from one extreme to another, negating my initial point, I have to point out that what the apostle exhorts is not merely blowing so much proverbial smoke up a certain orifice. We love someone most by uncompromisingly loving her/his or destiny. If what we say does not serve this purpose, even if it is "nice", it is not edifying.

Repentance for the forgiveness of sins

Between having no internet connection at home, due to the winds that swept through our town late last week, and working to finish my thesis, I missed posting yesterday. It was good, however, to have an enforced absence from the internet for a day or two. However, as with the Friday traditio, it is customary for me to post something on the Lord's Day.

Today's readings, especially our Gospel, which consists of the first eight verses of St. Mark's Gospel and tell us about the ministry of St. John the Baptist, whose importance in the Western Church has been somewhat obscured over time. Hearing about the Baptist's call to repent on the Second Sunday of Advent is a carry-over from the old liturgical calendar, when much more emphasis was placed on the penitential aspect of Advent. So, in keeping with single-hearted simplicity of the Baptist, my reflection today needs to be simple and to the point.

"John the Baptist appeared in the desert proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins" (Mark 1:4). What was the response to his challenging preaching, calling out the double-heartedness even among the pious? "People of the whole Judean countryside and all the inhabitants of Jerusalem were going out to him and were being baptized by him in the Jordan River as they acknowledged their sins" (Mark 1:5). Baptism is, after all, our new birth into eternal life, which, begins as soon as we emerge, not something delayed until after we die and are resurrected.

I think this highlighted well by our second reading, which comes from the third chapter of 2 Peter: "The Lord does not delay his promise, as some regard 'delay,' but he is patient with you, not wishing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance" (2 Peter 3:9). What is it that shows our need to repent, that is, to change, to be converted? The fact that are not only "waiting for," but "hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens will be dissolved in flames and the elements melted by fire. But according to his promise we await new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells" (2 Peter 3:12-13). "Therefore, beloved, since you await these things, be eager to be found without spot or blemish before him, at peace" (2 Peter 3:14).

What is it we must repent of, which is simply a way of asking, "What needs to change in me?" As Elder Amilianos observed: "You can’t seek Christ and at the same time be seeking something else. It doesn’t work that way, even if what you’re seeking is something holy. We understand to the degree that we seek, to the extent we comprehend, as much as we make room for. That’s what we need to learn: the more we open our heart, the more we’ll receive God."

I urge one and all to respond not only to the call of the Baptist, but the call of our Lord himself, who, later in the same chapter of St. Mark's Gospel, after being baptized and having His identity confirmed, emerging from the desert, says, "This is the time of fulfillment. The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the gospel" (Mark 1:15). Jesus is the kingdom in person, what in Greek is referred to as autobasileia. It is easy to do so by availing ourselves during this season designed to aid us in our quest for holiness by participating in any number of Advent Penance Services, or, as we do at the Cathedral parish I serve, simply going to confession, offered as it is more regularly just before the Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ.

In light of a conversation sparked by my homily for the last Sunday in October, it bears noting the St. John the Baptist is the patron of monks, who live celibate lives for the sake of God's kingdom. Indeed, celibacy and virginity remain irreplaceable for the Church's witness in and for the world, pointing us to the fulfillment of God's kingdom among us. But, like fasting and other demanding disciplines, including prayer, we fail to see this and grow in lax in certain ways. Come Lord Jesus!

"Have mercy upon us, O Jesus."

The Opening Chorus of Bach's St. Matthew's Passion is our Friday traditio for two reasons:

1) It is a truly lovely composition

2) Because Damian Thompson, writing today about a performance he recently attended, had this to say: "This week I attended an amazing performance of Bach’s St Matthew Passion. It was an appropriate time of year to hear the piece: Bach’s thorny harmonies reminded us that Advent is a penitential season," thus showing that I am not the only Roman Catholic who refuses to buy into attempts to make liturgy abstract. A liturgical season with no concrete praxis is no season at all. You might as well just pour the nog and join the hootenanny, which is already well under way and will conclude well short of the season of Christimas. This is intended in no way to denigrate hootenannies. Personally, I love a good one.

Come, ye daughters, help me lament,
Behold! Whom? The Bridegroom.
Behold him! How? Like a lamb.
Behold! What? Behold his patience.
Behold! Where? Behold our guilt.
Behold Him, out of love and graciousness,
Himself carrying the wood of the cross.