Keeping a promise on the Memorial St Thérèse

Yesterday I finished my Novena to St Thérèse of Lisieux, the Little Flower. My intention, in light of the suicide of a friend last summer, was for the repose of the souls of those I have known who took their own lives. My friend left me three things: a book, a statue of Our Lady (which I gave to another friend), and a statue of St Thérèse of Lisieux. It has been my intention since the day I received the statue of St Thérèse to place her in my garden on her feast day, which is today. Well, I wasn't able to do that until after 9:00 PM this evening, but she is in place:

As you can see, like Jesus Christ, whom she followed through death to life, the Little Flower is a light in the darkness

After setting her in, we celebrated the Order for the Blessing of Images of the Saints, which, as a deacon, I can do. After making the Sign of the Cross, and a holy greeting, the rite begins with this, one of those beginnings which the rubrics tell us can be said verbatim "or similar words," making it adaptable:

As we begin to celebrate this rite in praise of God on the occasion of the placing of this beautiful statue of St Thérèse for our veneration, we must be properly disposed and have a clear appreciation of the meaning of this celebration. When the Church blesses a statue and presents it for veneration by the faithful, she does so for the following reasons: that when we look at the representation of those who have followed Christ faithfully, we will be motivated to seek the city that is to come; that we will learn the way that will enable us most surely to attain complete union with Christ; that, as we struggle along with our earthly cares, we will be mindful of the saints, those friends and coheirs of Christ who are also our brothers and sisters and our special benefactors; that we will remember how they love us, are near us, intercede ceaselessly for us, and are joined to us in a marvelous communion

Lovely Little Flower, pray for us today and always. You know the intentions I bring to you. Pray for us, help us daily to follow your Little Way, seeking holiness through the ordinary circumstances of our daily lives.

Year A Twenty-sixth Sunday of Ordinary Time

Readings: Ezk 18:25-28; Ps 25:4-5.8-10.14; Phil 2:1-11; Matt 21:28-32

Our Gospel for today follows on the heels of last week’s Gospel wherein Jesus told the parable of the vineyard owner who went out, beginning at dawn, and brought laborers into his vineyard for the harvest throughout the day, until about an hour or so before sunset. The scandalous part of that parable was that at the end of the day the vineyard owner paid all of the laborers the same wage, which was the usual wage for a day’s labor, thus causing those who began work at dawn to, understandably, gripe a bit. The point of that parable was not about social justice, but about God’s generosity in issuing the call to conversion, the call to salvation, which is given in Jesus Christ. Part of the point being, there is no greater reward than eternal life.

Likewise, our Gospel for today is about Jesus’ call and our response. Faith is nothing more than our response to God’s initiative towards us. Faith cannot be reduced to mere belief; to giving intellectual assent to a set of truthful and well-thought out propositions. Faith that merits the name spurs us to action in God’s service. In today’s Gospel there is no great mystery to figure out. Clearly the son who initially said he would not go, but then went, was the one who did his father’s will, not the son who said he would go, but then did not.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus goes on to liken the son who went, even after initially saying “No,” to the tax collectors and prostitutes who, upon hearing the Baptist’s call to repentance, repented, that is, turned around and walked the path of righteousness after deviating from it. But the son who initially agreed, but then did not go, is likened to many of the observant Jews listening to Jesus.

My brothers and sisters, when you were baptized, whether as infants, children, or adults, you said “Yes” to Jesus’ call. Likewise, you said “Yes” when your baptism was confirmed and you received a fuller outpouring of the Holy Spirit to aid you in your service to Christ and His Church. Each time you participate in the Eucharist you are called and, at the end of Mass, you are sent forth to do. Do what, you might ask? To make the Lord present wherever you are present, as the Second Vatican Council’s Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Lumen Gentium, puts this: The faithful are called by God to exercise “their proper function and led by the spirit of the Gospel [to]… work for the sanctification of the world from within as a leaven. In this way they may make Christ known to others, especially by the testimony of a life resplendent in faith, hope and charity” (par 31).

In our second reading, taken from St Paul’s Letter to the Philippians, most of which, according to New Testament scholars, is taken from an ancient Christian hymn, we see that Jesus Christ, our Lord, both agreed to do and then perfectly did the Father’s will. The apostle urged the Christians of ancient Philippi to have among them the same attitude as Christ Jesus, which is a selfless, self-emptying attitude. Before citing the beautiful hymn, which he used as an example of the attitude they were to have, Paul told his sisters and brothers, “Do nothing out of selfishness or out of vainglory; rather, humbly regard others as more important than yourselves, each looking out not for his own interests, but also for those of others” (Phil 2:3-4). This is a very succinct description of Christian ministry.

The prophet Ezekiel, in our first reading, chided his hearers, who complained, “The LORD’s way is not fair” (Ezk 18:25). But the prophet seeks to demonstrate to them that God’s way is more than fair, that God’s way, as our Psalm response indicates, is merciful. Indeed, perfectly balancing mercy and justice is something that God alone can do. But the way around this obsession with fairness, as Jesus demonstrated over and again in His teaching and through His life, particularly by humbling Himself and “becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Phil 2:8), is to get over yourself. This, too, is the witness of so many saints down through the centuries of the Church. It is certainly the witness of St Vincent de Paul, whose memorial we observed yesterday. He was a priest who dedicated himself completely to serving the poor. His charity extended to all classes of people, from forsaken childhood to old age. In a nutshell, our readings today are about joining our words to our actions. Our Lord Himself said elsewhere in St Matthew’s Gospel, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven” (Matt 7:21).

You may have noticed either coming into the Cathedral through the main doors today, or driving by the Cathedral on South Temple some light blue banners featuring a ship, the barque of our local Church, with the words, “Charting Our Course” and “Believe. Celebrate, and Live.” At Bishop Wester’s direction, our diocese has begun the process of putting together a comprehensive Pastoral Plan. The course we are charting is one that leads us to fulfill our mission: “Believe, celebrate, and live the redeeming love of our Lord, Jesus Christ, in Utah.”

What can you do in response to today’s readings in light of Bishop Wester’s call? You can take the on-line survey. There may also be an opportunity for you to participate in a listening session, either a regional one, or one held for a group of which you are a member. Right now the call we have been issued by our bishop is to give him our honest input through this initial portion of the pastoral plan in order to chart the course ahead for our diocese.

The Church of Jesus Christ in Utah is a growing, dynamic Church, a fruitful vineyard. The Lord needs more laborers and the laborers require a common plan to carry out the Father’s work. We are blessed that the issues and challenges we face as a local Church have mostly to do with growth and vibrancy. So, what is needed for our pastoral planning process to be successful is your input now and your follow-through later.

Bishop Wester’s goals for our Diocesan Pastoral Plan are three-fold: 1) To deepen relationships and encourage a community dialogue around mission; (2) To educate everyone about the diocese as the “local church;” and (3) to encourage participation in various ministries. This not something over and above, or added onto everything we’ve been doing and focusing on, such as stewardship. It is a way of pulling it all together, making it more cohesive, and, above all, making it actionable, which is what our Lord asks of us today.

Kyrie eleison

Because this morning I really need something truly and unambiguously beautiful and today is a penitential day, our Friday traditio is the Kyrie from Palestrina's Missae Papae Marcelli. Palestrina's Mass for Pope Marcellus II is certainly one of the glories of polyphonic sacred choral music.

Pope Marcellus II's coat-of-arms

Pope Marcellus II only served as Roman Pontiff for 22 days in 1555. It is believed that Palestrina composed this Mass in his memory in 1562.

Balthasar on being a Christian

Hans Urs Von Balthasar began Part III of his book Who Is a Christian with a chapter called "Straight to the Center." In this short section he pointed out, "Much is made clear at the outset if we remember a simple rule of logic: knowledge about something is most clearly established where it presents itself in its purest form" (57). Hence, "Anyone wanting to study the essence of a Christian by analyzing a person who cannot really make up his mind whether or not to be one... is investigating the wrong object" (57).

Balthasar went on to assert that the proper object for such an investigation is a saint because "it is precisely the 'saint' (the holy one), the one who endeavors to embrace the Christian thing wholeheartedly, who knows best and most profoundly just how much he is a sinner" (58). Other Christians, he noted "take the dividing distance [between themselves and Christ, between themselves and holiness] lightly or resign themselves to whatever it is that separates them from full commitment" (58). Still some "make up their own conscience," which I take to mean that they decide for themselves what is right and wrong, pick and choose that to which they will adhere, set a self-imposed boundary.

St. Pio of Pietrelcina

"But the saint," Balthasar insisted, "strives to see himself in the pure light of grace and of God's commandment of love and is thereby... utterly humbled and stripped of all illusions" (58). "Who is a Christian?" In order to answer this question, Balthasar insisted that "we must not waste time on the fringes ('someone who is baptized', 'someone who fulfills his Easter duties', and so on) but must go straight to the center" (58). "The minimalist," he pointed out, "is a highly complicated figure, because impenetrable and opaque, from whom no clear information can be expected" (58). "The maximalist, by contrast - if the word were appropriate here, which it is not - represents the simple, luminous figure, so simple in fact that he is the true minimalist, because all the complexities have been integrated within him" (58).

For the minimalist, as Saint Paul tells us, the endless list of prohibitions has been laid down, so that one can scarcely see the forest for the trees; for the maximalist - that is, the person who strives toward Christ - all these negative precepts are reduced to a single commandment, and whoever fulfills this has already fulfilled, as though in passing, all the other commandments. And this commandment, Christ tells us, is not difficult (58)

Today is the liturgical memorial of Padre Pio and so we ask, St Pio of Pietrelcina, holy priest, pray for us! Today is also Day 2 of the Novena to St Thérèse, the Little Flower, whose memorial the Church observes on 1 October.

In the end, Christ's Church will be His spotless Bride and so will only be comprised of saints. As Léon Bloy observed, "There is only one sorrow—-not to be a saint."

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts"

Readings: Isa 55:6-9; Ps 145:2-3.8-9.17-18; Phil 1:20c-24.27a; Matt 20:1-16a

When we encounter Jesus' words, "The kingdom of heaven is like...," as we do on this Sunday, we ought to sit up and pay close attention to what follows. What follows, if we open our ears to hear and our hearts to receive, is usually surprising, not just for those on one side, but for people on both, that is, for those who tend to be more exclusive about belonging as well as for those who see no need to make any distinctions at all. It's tempting to wrap this up neatly and assert that Jesus simply moderates these extremes by proposing a middle course. In a sense, perhaps He does. But in a deeper sense He simply blows our neat little (by "little" I mean miniscule) dichotomies out of the water!

Let's be honest, even though we know we are all supposed to identify with those who came to work in the vineyard later in the day, for many of you reading this post, as well as for me, as with many of Jesus' original hearers, it is likely easier to identify with those who went into the vineyard early in the morning and worked all day. I can hear the denial already, not least from a place within myself: "No, that is not true!" But the proof is in the pudding, as they say. In other words, it is not about how we emotionally react when we read or hear these Gospel passages proclaimed, but whether or not we live them out in the concrete circumstances of our lives, when these things unfold right in front of us. Jesus here clearly issues a provocation.

Provocation = pro + vocation. Hence, we are challenged for the sake of our calling, that is, for our own good, for our growth, in order to be more conformed to the image of Christ, which nothing other than to be restored to the state of original grace, to bearing not only the image (i.e., imago dei, which is ineradicable), but the divine likeness, which is Christ-likeness, something that is eradicated by sin and restored by God's grace given us in and through Christ. Being provoked, especially by the words and witness of our Blessed Lord, is a great gift. We must always cultivate an openness to being challenged in the way the Lord challenges us today.

Jesus loves us far too much to ever let us grow smug, or become complacent. Today's Gospel is sheer provocation, a direct challenge to our sense of spiritual entitlement, to the idea that God owes us something for those (all-too rare) occasions when we have been faithful. Jesus' teaching is even a provocation for those who immediately identify with the laborers who came later. How? By looking down with a kind of self-righteousness on those who labored all day and who question the "generosity" of the landowner. It is not an unimaginable moral evil to pose this question. It is not wholly unjust to expect more pay for more work. The question to you, dear friend, is, Are you really able to perfectly balance justice and mercy?

In our pondering, let's not lose sight of the fact that Jesus did not come into the world to teach us neat little moral lessons, but to reveal to us our destiny. It is the mystery of the Kingdom about which He teaches in this passage. There is no greater reward than eternal life, which cannot be earned by anyone, no matter how hard you work. Our "work" is to cooperate with God's grace by heeding His call to go into the vineyard, which is a nice segue to consider the relationship between justification and sanctification (see "Becoming holy" and "More on holiness").

More on holiness

Reading a post on Fr Aidan Kimel’s Eclectic Orthodoxy blog (which is quite a find) prompted a few more thoughts concerning the schema of salvation, which I have characterized (by no means originally, but in the all-too standard way) as the three-fold movement of redemption, justification, and sanctification (i.e., being made holy, theosis, divinization, etc.). In a recent post, in light of Fr Stephen Freeman’s observation, an idea I had was moved from being vague to explicit, namely the idea that justification and sanctification cannot be neatly split apart and (most importantly) that sanctification is not optional, and is not only necessary, but inevitable for a Christian.

In his post, Fr Aidan wonders whether St Paul’s “understanding of justification is governed exclusively by the question ‘Are the works of Torah binding on the (Gentile) Church?’” Once this question was answered definitively- presumably at the proto-Council of Jerusalem, which is described in Acts 15- “justification” was no longer an issue. Fr Aidan better expresses something I have long thought and expressed both in writing and preaching with regards to the sacraments in general, foremost among which, even for Catholics and Orthodox, are Baptism and Eucharist:

Holy Baptism represents the decisive event in which the convert to Christ is initiated into the Church and the trinitarian life of God. It’s not as if one is first justified and then subsequently adopted as a child of God and made heir to the kingdom. It all happens at the same time! As the Apostle tells his congregation in Corinth: “But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God” (1 Cor 6:11). The Spirit breaks into our fallen world and appropriates us to the life and worship of the messianic kingdom. Only on this basis does our liturgical prayer and ascetical practices make proper sense

This also serves to highlight something to Roman Catholics that seems to require constant attention: Baptism, not ordination, is the fundamental sacrament of the Christian life. Baptism strengthened by Confirmation is even more formidable still.

Fr Aidan also posted something by Phillip Cary (who wrote the best theological commentary on the Book of Jonah I have read) concerning St Augustine's view of justification (see "St Augustine on Justification by Grace"). I am not going to try and neatly summarize what Cary has already summed up nicely. I will just note this from his article: "for Augustine justification, so far as he discusses it at all, is not a particular event but the activity of God throughout our lives. When he uses the verb justificare, Augustine is thinking of God’s role in bringing us along in our lifelong journey to Him (cf. the article on “Justice” in the encyclopedia Augustine through the Ages). This image of a journey, pilgrimage or road to God is central to his theology, and any account of justification that is true to Augustine’s thought will really just be an account of that journey, in which we grow closer to God by growing in charity, which is the righteousness (justitia) that consists in obeying the twofold law of love."

"This image of journey, pilgrimage or road to God" is not only central to St Augustine's theology, but also constitutes an important part of the Letter to the Hebrews, seventeen verses to be exact: Hebrews 3:16-Hebrews 4:13, only to be taken up again for additional 53 verses (see Hebrews 11:1-Hebrews 12:13).

I post this because it is quite a boon to me that someone else is taking up these matters concurrent with my own interest, someone who is certainly better versed in the Christian tradition than I am, but most importantly, someone with a personal and not strictly theoretical interest in these most important matters.

Scotland: "Come up screamin'"

Yesterday's referendum in Scotland ended with the Scots choosing to remain part of Great Britain by a comfortable majority. I have to admit that, personally, I found the outcome a bit disappointing. By divulging that, I have to admit that I had no skin in that particular game. I understand that there was a lot of uncertainty in Scotland becoming independent after more than 300 years of belonging to Great Britain. It was a gamble for sure. I certainly respect the principle of self-determination. However, now it's time for British PM David Cameron to hold a referendum on the U.K. remaining in the European Union.

Just as David Letterman asked a New York City cabdriver during the Clinton presidency if the word "Whitewater" (who remembers that scandal?) made him thirsty, all this belaboring over the referendum has made me thirsty, thirsty for a Scotch (Laprohaig 10 to be precise). How about Scotland's own Big Country, led by the late and still terribly missed Stuart Adamson, to go with that drink? To Alex Salmond, who honorably resigned as First Minister of Scotland after leading the failed campaign for independence, and all those who longed for such a dream, "In a Big Country" is our Friday traditio:

I bless and praise Thy matchless might,
When thousands Thou has left in night,
That I here before Thy sight,
       For gifts and grace,
A burning and a shining light
       To a’ this place— (from Robert Burns' poem "Holy Willie's Prayer")