"Welcome to the lion's den/Temptation's on his way"

Only because I have recently discovered that The Young Ones is now available for on demand viewing via Hulu, Madness singing "House of Fun" is our Friday traditio. It seems fitting for this 14 February, on which the Church observes the liturgical Memorial of Sts. Cyril and Methodius.

Party hats
Simple enough clear
Comprehende savvy understand
Do you hear?
A pack of party hats
With the coloured tips
Too late!
Gorgon's heard gossip
Well hello Joe, hello Miss Clay
Many happy returns from the day

Dying to self: the path to life in a world of destitution

Our readings for the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time set before us both the need to let our light shine, which light is that of Christ, as well as gives us instruction as to how we do it.

Beginning with our reading from St. Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians, we see that letting the light of Christ shine in us and through us is not a matter of self-glorification, but of self-sacrifice. It is only through sacrificial, self-emptying, service, through which I am crucified with Christ, thus heeding the Lord's command to take up my cross and follow Him, not through many eloquent words, elaborate arguments, or noticeable pious practices, that I even have a chance of demonstrating God's "Spirit and power" (1 Cor 2:4).

The prophet Isaiah, anticipating Jesus Christ, declares that by sharing "bread with the hungry," giving shelter to the oppressed and the homeless, clothing the naked, and taking care of our own (something that is often overlooked when we consider such exhortations), "Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,and your wound shall quickly be healed; your vindication shall go before you, and the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard" (Isa 58:7-8).

As Catholics what Isaiah exhorts should be recognizable to us from the teaching of Jesus, especially that sobering passage from the twenty-fifth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel, the one in which Jesus responds to the question He puts on the lips of the "righteous" (i.e., the ones who fed the hungry, gave drink to the thirsty, clothed the naked, visited the sick and those in prison), "Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?" (Matt 25:37) Along with burying the dead, we call feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, clothing the naked, and sheltering the homeless, the Corporeal Works of Mercy.

In his first Message for Lent, Pope Francis challenges us along these same lines: "In imitation of our Master, we Christians are called to confront the poverty of our brothers and sisters, to touch it, to make it our own and to take practical steps to alleviate it. Destitution is not the same as poverty: destitution is poverty without faith, without support, without hope." He goes on write about three kinds of destitution: material, spiritual, and moral. The call Christ gives us today through these readings is about material destitution and our individual responsibility to assist those who are hungry, thirsty, naked, and homeless. If my fasting does not involve spending more time praying, more time serving others, then it is merely dieting, that is, there is nothing spiritual about it.

"Material destitution," the Holy Father explained, "is what is normally called poverty, and affects those living in conditions opposed to human dignity: those who lack basic rights and needs such as food, water, hygiene, work and the opportunity to develop and grow culturally. In response to this destitution, the Church offers her help, her diakonia, in meeting these needs and binding these wounds which disfigure the face of humanity. In the poor and outcast we see Christ’s face; by loving and helping the poor, we love and serve Christ."

Last night I watched the movie Che: Part 1. I was again struck by the life of the Argentine doctor and revolutionary, Ernesto "Che" Guevara. The film uses his quote about what must motivate a revolutionary:

At the risk of seeming ridiculous, let me say that the true revolutionary is guided by a great feeling of love. It is impossible to think of a genuine revolutionary lacking this quality. Perhaps it is one of the great dramas of the leader that he or she must combine a passionate spirit with a cold intelligence and make painful decisions without flinching. Our vanguard revolutionaries must idealize this love of the people, of the most sacred causes, and make it one and indivisible

Ernesto "Che" Guevara

Contrast this with something said by Blessed Teresa of Calcutta: "Never worry about numbers. Help one person at a time, and always start with the person nearest you." So-called "Revolutionaries" are obsessed with material destitution and the immorality that brings it on and/or sustains it. Largely because they tend to be materialists, they do not acknowledge even the possibility of spiritual destitution. In my view, this is usually what leads them to violent solutions.

What Bl. Teresa proposed vice Guevara's "idealization" of the "feeling" of "love," is not "making" love concrete, but acting in the recognition that true love is only ever concrete. This is what the Incarnation of the Son of God shows us clearly and what Christ's life, teaching, death, and resurrection demonstrate. Nothing is as dramatic as reality!

A friend, who is a non-profit director of development, shared a story with me about a friend of hers, who worked in the same field. For a short time her friend worked alongside Bl. Teresa, attending fund-raising events in the U.S. and Europe with her. Of course, these events included people with money to give (i.e., wealthy people). Sensing her feelings towards these folks, Bl. Teresa told her that spiritual poverty (in our schema, read "destitution") is worse than the material variety and that until she learned to love those from whom she raised money as much as those for whom she was raised money, she would have difficulties.

Teaching the truth about marital love

As both of my readers know, I write a lot about marital sexuality, particularly in support of Church teaching as set forth in Humanae Vitae. In his very good book, Sex au Naturel: What It Is and Why It's Good For Your Marriage, Patrick Coffin observed concerning Humanae Vitae

Paul VI didn't deploy any arguments to speak of. In fact, he doesn't appear to have written it to persuade at all. Apart from setting out some basic principles, Paul VI simply reiterates the ancient teaching, albeit in language more in sync with the modern ear (18-19)

While I agree that it seems fairly clear that the Venerable Paul VI did not write what would be his last encyclical in an apologetic manner, he did address several arguments aimed at bringing about a change in Church teaching. To give one example, he addressed the "principle of totality" in paragraph three.

A recent study conducted by the German Bishops Conference revealed something utterly unsurprising, namely that the vast majority of German Catholics reject fundamental Church teaching on matters concerning human sexuality, not only the intrinsically disordered nature of artificial contraception, but the reasons for not engaging in sexual relations outside of marriage, etc. Perhaps most telling is that the vast majority of those surveyed had never heard the term "natural law." I try to be careful not to make invalid inferences, but I can't help thinking that one of the major reasons for this state-of-affairs is the reluctance and even failure to teach clearly on these matters, laying out the teaching objectively and persuasively.

Laying out what the truth about human sexuality in light of Jesus Christ is exactly what Bl. Pope John Paul II's Theology of the Body (see Man and Woman He Created Them: A Theology of the Body) did. In addition to John Paul II's comprehensive teaching, when I think of setting forward Church teaching on sexuality persuasively, I cannot help but point to the fifth chapter of Fr. Timothy Radcliffe's book What Is the Point of Being a Christian?, entitled "The Body Electric."

This brings me to a recent article written by Msgr. M. Francis Mannion for our diocesan newspaper, "Reconsidering the Catholic Church's teaching on birth control." Msgr. Mannion is a mentor and teacher of mine, a priest and theologian whom I admire greatly. In fact, without his initial encouragement and subsequent support I would likely never have pursued becoming a deacon. Hence, I was very happy to read his very down-to-earth "take" as to why it would be wise for many people, clergy and laity alike, to reconsider what, in many cases, is merely a reflexive reaction in rejecting Church teaching. I have but two minor critical thoughts concerning the article.

First, is that a more accurate title might be "Reconsidering the Catholic Church's teaching on contraception." When discussing Church teaching on this matter it is important to distinguish between birth control, which, at least as I see it, is an end, and contraception, which is but one means to achieving the desired end, one that the Church teaches is immoral, as opposed to other, morally acceptable means, such as the various methods of Natural Family Planning. My second critical observation is that, while I agree that those Catholics who continue to choose to use contraception should not be made to feel like second-class citizens in the Church, it seems that the greater danger is to treat those Catholics who choose to live in fidelity to what the Church teaches as such.

One reason I can be sanguine about Msgr Mannion's plea to treat married Catholics who choose to live in a manner at odds with Church teaching so leniently is because, as the German study demonstrates, their choice usually has to do with conscience formation. In other words, the greater responsibility is on those of us whose calling it is to teach. What seems clear to me in reading the findings of the German study, and other like studies, as well as my own pastoral experience, is that not many of the faithful have had their consciences well-formed by sound teaching. In fact, it is often the case that couples who use contraception have been told that that what they are doing is just fine, perhaps even good, at least for them. In the Letter of St. James we come across this warning: "Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you realize that we will be judged more strictly" (3:1). Before closing out that sentence, the sacred author notes, "for we all fall short in many respects" (3:2a). I take this to mean that, even for those who teach, repentance is possible.

Don't get me wrong, the answer is not beating people about the head and shoulders with a hardbound copy of Humanae Vitae. When we're not busy getting our "takes" on what Pope Francis says from the secular media, we might notice that what the Holy Father is trying to communicate, at least it seems to me, is that the Church's teaching on human sexuality is part of a greater whole, that is, it has a context. When we lose sight of the overarching context we come across as unhinged in the opposite direction than those who simply reject or ignore Church teaching.

An insight that I would love to have the time to follow-up on in detail is that, along with Populorum progresso and Evangelii nuntiandi, Humanae vitae constitutes the core, the heart, what I have termed a "triptych," of Venerable Pope Paul VI's unique papal magisterium, the largest part of which was implementing the Second Vatican Council.

"Yes I can tell such a key, I do know such a place"

Because I have been making my way through the poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins, our Friday traditio for today is Richard Burton reading the poems "The Leaden Echo" and "The Golden Echo," known together as "Maidens' song from St. Winefred's Well."

St Winefride's Well (often spelled "Winifred's"), located in Holywell, Flintshire, North Wales

Fr Gerard Manley Hopkins, SJ was always disturbed by inner turmoil. This turmoil welled up within him because of his self-perceived inability to deliver himself wholly to God. Hence, his poetry, which he never gave permission during his lifetime to be published, often expressed his deep dissatisfaction.

Be beginning; since, no, nothing can be done
To keep at bay
Age and age’s evils, hoar hair,
Ruck and wrinkle, drooping, dying, death’s worst, winding sheets, tombs and worms and tumbling to decay

Lest we forget Anna, the prophetess

As I was at Mass this morning, as well as earlier as I prayed Lauds, I was struck by what short shrift Anna, the prophetess, is given in the liturgy for today's Feast of the Presentation of the Lord. Along with Simeon, whose canticle is well-known, Anna recognized in the infant Jesus Israel's long awaited Messiah and her Redeemer. She is certainly very significant. Otherwise she would not have been mentioned in St. Luke's account of our Blessed Mother and St. Joseph presenting the Christ child in His Father's house, as prescribed by Jewish Law.

Using the King James Version of the Holy Bible, here's what sacred Scripture tells us about her:

And there was one Anna, a prophetess, the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Aser: she was of a great age, and had lived with an husband seven years from her virginity; And she was a widow of about fourscore and four years, which departed not from the temple, but served God with fastings and prayers night and day. And she coming in that instant gave thanks likewise unto the Lord, and spake of him to all them that looked for redemption in Jerusalem (Luke 2:36-38)

The Prophetess Anna, by Rembrandt, 1631

The name "Anna" means grace, or favor. Along with Simeon, she personifies Israel's waiting for the Messiah, who, in the Christ child, she recognizes not only as Messiah, but as Redeemer and, arguably, as Lord. According to the commentary on St. Luke's Gospel by Robert Karras, OFM, found in The New Jerome Biblical Commentary, "The pairing of Simeon and Anna corresponds to that of Zechariah and Elizabeth... and foreshadows an impressive theme in Luke." For the "impressive theme," Karras turns to German scholar Helmut Flender's St. Luke, Theologian of Redemptive History- "Luke expresses by this arrangement that man and woman stand together and side by side before God. They are equal in honor in grace, they endowed with the same gifts and have the same responsibilities."

In light of my current re-reading of Bl. Pope John Paul II's Theology of the Body catecheses, I find Flender's assertion about the fundamental equality of men and women before God most timely. It bears noting that equal does not mean identical, which is precisely what this pairing of Simeon and Anna demonstrates. If it were not so, no such pairing would be required because a man could stand in place of a woman and vice-versa.

Feast of the Presentation of the Lord

Rather than being the Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, this Sunday, being 2 February, the Church celebrates the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord. By keeping this feast, we celebrate and commemorate that day when the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Joseph presented the infant Jesus before the Father in the Temple. This act was prescribed by Jewish Law in both Exodus and Leviticus for every firstborn son among the Israelites. Of course, this event is the fourth of the Joyful Mysteries of the Most Holy Rosary. The fruit of this mystery is obedience.

In modern standard English the word obedience means something like, "compliance with an order, request, or law or submission to another's authority." Hence, to us now, it is a word that smacks of oppression and mindless, that is, unquestioning, submission to someone else's will. Many people think that to be religious in general and to be a Christian in particular consists exclusively in just doing what the Church, the Bible, your pastor tells you to do without question or delay. In other words, to be a Christian is just to carry out orders.

The Canticle of Simeon, by Aert de Gelder, ca. 1700-1710

Let's not forget that it was Jesus Himself who told His disciples, picking up the passage I cited in my Friday traditio post-

I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and your joy may be complete. This is my commandment: love one another as I love you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I no longer call you slaves, because a slave does not know what his master is doing. I have called you friends, because I have told you everything I have heard from my Father. It was not you who chose me, but I who chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit that will remain, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name he may give you. This I command you: love one another (John 15:11-17)

In his Apostolic Constitution on indulgences, Indulgentiarum Doctrina, promulgated in 1967, that is, after the Second Vatican Council, Venerable Pope Paul VI (whom Pope Francis referred to this week in one of his daily homilies as "the great Paul VI," a shout out that melted my heart) noted,

Christians throughout history have always regarded sin not only as a transgression of divine law but also—though not always in a direct and evident way—as contempt for or disregard of the friendship between God and man, just as they have regarded it as a real and unfathomable offense against God and indeed an ungrateful rejection of the love of God shown us through Jesus Christ, who called his disciples friends and not servants (par 2)

As the Online Etymology Dictionary shows, our English word "obedience" comes from the Latin word obedire, or oboedire, which, as an analysis of its roots demonstrates, is ob, meaning "to" + audire, which means "listen", thus literally meaning to "listen to," "pay attention to," "give ear to."

This relates to faith in that faith is not mere belief because faith elicits a response, a voluntary response, it's what the one who hears desires to do. To listen to Christ, to pay attention to Him, is to open yourself to who He is and what that means for you. This is expressed beautifully by Simeon in today's Gospel reading:

Now, Master, you may let your servant go in peace, according to your word, for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you prepared in sight of all the peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and glory for your people Israel (Luke 2:29-32)

This declaration, this profession of faith, this prayer, is traditionally called the Nunc Dimittis, which is Latin for "Now you dismiss." Just as Zechariah's canticle, known as the Benedictus, is recited as part of Lauds, or Morning Prayer, each day, and that of the Blessed Virgin, the Magnificat, is recited daily in Vespers, or Evening Prayer, the Nunc Dimittis is recited during the praying of the office called Compline, or Night Prayer.

To wit: Jesus did not come into the world to force you to do the will of the Father, but to invite you into a relationship that we call grace, a relationship brought about by Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit, one that seeks to draw you into the life of the Most Holy Trinity. It is difficult to imagine our Blessed Mother and St. Joseph bringing the infant Jesus to the temple in Jerusalem merely out of a sense of obligation, let alone out of fear. The Code of Canon Law stipulates that "Parents are obliged to take care that infants are baptized in the first few weeks; as soon as possible after the birth or even before it, they are to go to the pastor to request the sacrament for their child and to be prepared properly for it" (Canon 867 §1). But what believing parent would not want do so as soon as possible and eagerly?

In tradition, today is also known as Candlemas. It was on this feast, formerly known as the Feast of the Purification of the Virgin Mary, that people would bring the candles they were going to use in their homes to be blessed at Church. Thankfully, the blessing of candles remains a part of this glorious feast in many places today. After all, as Simeon noted of the Christ Child, He is "a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and glory for your people Israel" (Luke 2:32).

"Someone very much wanted us here"

I am getting ready for Lent, not because I am so eager for it to begin, though I do look forward to the season as a time of renewal each year, but because this morning I had time to do some preliminary planning. I don't mind divulging that I am using Hilary Brand's book The Power of Small Choices: A Creative Approach to Your Lenten Journey as my spiritual aid this year. A big reason for this is because I love movies and she takes two films, The Shawshank Redemption and Babette's Feast, as her starting points.

The more honest reason is that I tripped over a box of books as I walked into my den not long ago, books I was going to give away, books that were given to me in passing by someone who was moving a few years ago, and re-discovered her book. I'm not sure what caused me to pick up The Power of Small Choices and look inside. Call me superstitious, but I tend to take such things as signs.

Reading the introductory parts of Brand's book, I came across this, which she, in turn, found in Keith Ward's book God, Chance and Necessity: "Mathematician Roger Penrose has calculated the probability of a universe ending up exactly like ours as one in ten to the power of 123." Brand goes on to show the significance of this: "I'm told that even if every proton in the entire universe was used to write a single digit on (and protons are so small that the dot on this 'i' could hold around 500,000,000,000 of them), it couldn't express the number of variant universes possible. Out of all those variations, the universe as it actually turned out is the only possible variant able to sustain to life as we know it" (13).

Based on this, Brand is correct to assert that, whether you believe in God or not, "the fact that we are here at all is pretty amazing." Despite these calculations, which nobody really disputes, some still insist that it all likely occurred "by blind chance." As for me, I agree with Brand and others that "a far more reasonable explanation" is "that Someone very much wanted us here." It further occurs to me that if Someone very much wants us here there is a reason for our being here. If this is so, then the relevant question is not, "Does life have purpose and meaning," but, "What is the purpose meaning of my life in the context of the overarching meaning of human life on earth?"

I don't do this every year, but only every so often, but I am following a program of reading through the whole Bible in year. One could compare the pros and cons of this exercise, but I think one of the best reasons for so doing is to become aware of the story that seeks to answer the relevant question as posed above.

Of course, stories, at least well-told ones, unfold. As Aristotle long ago outlined the dramatic structure [of Tragedy, no less) in Part VII of his Poetics: "A whole is that which has a beginning, a middle, and an end. A beginning is that which does not itself follow anything by causal necessity, but after which something naturally is or comes to be. An end, on the contrary, is that which itself naturally follows some other thing, either by necessity, or as a rule, but has nothing following it. A middle is that which follows something as some other thing follows it. A well constructed plot, therefore, must neither begin nor end at haphazard, but conform to these principles."

All of this can't help but put me in mind of the second part of Balthasar's magnificent trilogy, his five-volume Theo-drama:

God's revelation is not an object to be looked at: it is his action in and upon the world, and the world can only respond and hence "understand", through action on its part