Holy Thursday: Mass of the Lord's Supper

Readings: Ex 12:1-8.11-14; Ps 116:12.13.15-16c.17-18; 1 Cor 11:23-26; John 13:1-15

Tonight we enter what are for Christians our high holy days. With the beginning of Mass this evening Lent ended and we entered the shortest season of the liturgical year, the sacred Triduum. It’s important up front to point out that tonight at the end of Mass there will be no dismissal. Tomorrow, when we gather again to observe Good Friday by venerating the Cross, that cruel instrument of torture that our Lord Jesus Christ turned into the Tree of Life, there won’t be any opening rites- no greeting, no penitential rite, and certainly no Gloria- we will begin by praying the collect for Good Friday.

At the end of our Good Friday liturgy, again, there will be no dismissal. In fact, we won’t be dismissed until the end of the great Paschal Vigil, the Mother of all Masses, on Saturday evening. What does this mean? It means that from then until now we remain in liturgy, praying about, pondering and seeking to enter more deeply into the great Paschal mystery of Christ’s death and resurrection. Jesus is the true Lamb of God whose blood saves us from sin and death. His passing over from life to death is the true Passover, as is indicated in St. John’s account of the Last Supper, which was a Passover meal the Lord shared with his disciples before his passion.

At the end of Mass this evening, like Jesus' first disciples, we will leave the table and accompany Jesus out. Unlike those disciples, however, we do so in the awareness of his resurrection, which makes it solemn but joyful.

In St. John’s account of the Last Supper, Jesus washing the feet of his disciples is the institution narrative. In other words, St. John’s Gospel does not contain an account of our Lord taking bread and wine, breaking the bread, blessing the cup and then giving them to his disciples as his body and his blood. We find those accounts of the Last Supper in the synoptic Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke- those are the accounts to which St. Paul refers in our reading from 1 Corinthians, which was likely written some twenty years before any of the canonical Gospels.

Jesus told Peter, “Unless I wash you, you will have no inheritance with me.” As with Peter, by the power of the Holy Spirit, Jesus washes us in the bath of baptism, which is baptism into himself, the living water. Because we were bathed in baptism, we are, by the grace of God, “clean all over” but we need our feet washed from trudging our way through life. Undaunted, Jesus humbly washes our feet over and again. How does he wash our feet? By forgiving us in the sacrament of penance, which is an extension of baptism. He washes our feet by making himself small for us and vulnerable to us in the Eucharist. It is by humbling himself and becoming small for us that he shows us his greatness and his great love for us. How can you refuse so kind an offer?

For these sacraments we need priests. In addition to celebrating our Lord’s institution of the Eucharist, which is the sacramentum caritatis, the sacrament of love, tonight we also celebrate the institution of the priesthood. When celebrating the Eucharist and the sacrament of penance, a priest acts in persona Christi captis, in the person of Christ the head. By contrast, the assembly at Mass or the penitent in confession acts in persona Christi corporis, in the person of Christ the body. A body without a head, or a head without a body, is dead. In case you’re wondering, a deacon acts in persona Christi servi, in the person of Christ the servant, serving body and head.

It’s important for us to grasp what we’re doing over these next three days, vitally important. It can never be a matter of going through the motions, of empty ritualism. We need to be open so our hearts can not only be touched, but so our hearts can be changed by being broken and healed by God's love. God is love (1 John 4:8.16) because God is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. God delivered Israel from Egypt out of love, not just for Israel, but all humanity in fulfillment of God’s promise to Abraham that through his seed all peoples of the earth would be blessed (Gen 12:2-3). Christ washed the feet of his disciples and urged them to do the same for each other out of love; Christ gave the world priests to serve his holy people by providing for them the bread of life, the cup salvation, and forgiveness of sins.

Tonight, acting in persona Christi captis, Fr. René will wash the feet of people from the parish who represent all those he is called to serve, performing for them and the rest of the community the humblest act of service. The sacrament of orders is about selfless service, not power. By washing the feet of 12 members of St. Olaf Parish, like Christ, he exhorts us to go forth and serve others out of love for God and neighbor.

My dear friends, tonight is all about love, divine love, which, as the old hymn tells us, excels all love. Without divine love there would be no love. Let me summarize with a quote from the late Dominican theologian Fr. Herbert McCabe:

The gospels … insist upon two antithetical truths which express the tragedy of the human condition: the first is that if you do not love you will not be alive; the second is that if you do love you will be killed. If you cannot love you remain self-enclosed and sterile, unable to create a future for yourself or others, unable to live. If, however, you do effectively love you will be a threat to the structures of domination upon which our human society rests and you will be killed… (Herbert McCabe, OP, God Still Matters)

This is why in our Psalm this evening we heard the words, “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his faithful ones.” You see, the way to resurrection is through the Cross, not over it, around it, or underneath it, but through it. The Lord bids all who accept his kind offer - “Take up your cross and follow me” (Matt 16:24; Mark 8:34; Luke 9:23). Jesus’ passion and death show the truth of Fr. McCabe’s pronouncement. This sacred Triduum is about self-sacrificing love to the point of death or it is about nothing.

Holy Week: a chance for some to major in the minors

One of things I dislike about Holy Week on social media is how eager some Catholics are to major in the minors when it comes to liturgy. Because a lot of this occurs on-line, it strikes me as fairly passive-aggressive. The palms distributed on Palm Sunday and Holy Thursday's Mandatum Rite are always a particular focus for those spoiling for a liturgical fight. As with most negativity, these complaints, once they start, almost always spill over into the predictable complaints: holding hands during the Our Father, communion in the hand, exchanging hugs, handshakes, and gestures of peace during the sign of peace (Gasp! Imagine wanting to say to the person sitting in front of you two people to the left, "Peace be with you." Oh, the horror! What is the church coming to?), the assembly making certain gestures, and on and on.

I actually like seeing the many beautiful things into which people weave their palm branches. It's amazing to me because I am so utterly unskilled at those kinds of things. As for the Mandatum Rite, I posted something rather lengthy after the formal change was made earlier this year, at the request of Pope Francis, by the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments permitting women to have their feet washed during the rite (see "On the overdue rubrical change to the Mandatum Rite"). This change permits, but does not mandate, the priest-celebrant to wash the feet of women. In fact, a priest is not required to celebrate the rite at all. In all honesty, based on a then-NCCB (the national conference of Catholic bishops is now known as the USCCB) document from the late 1980s, in many places in the U.S., perhaps even most, the feet of women have long since been washed on Holy Thursday.

Here's some news, good news some might say - You're not obligated to hold anyone's hand, or to receive communion in the hand, or make the reciprocating gesture when responding to "The Lord be with you," that is, while saying, "And with your spirit," or to say to even one person, "Peace be with you." Keep in mind, apart from standing, there is no prescribed posture for the assembly while praying the Our Father, no rubric that directs the assembly what to do or not do. Holding hands, in many places, has become a local custom, which is not binding, but is normative for that parish or congregation. I am sure there are other regions, countries, dioceses, and particular assemblies in which not holding hands is the norm. It is certainly true that holding hands while praying the Our Father is a post-Vatican Council II innovation, but it is not forbidden or really contrary to anything other than a subjective judgment, even if that judgment is well-informed. But keep in mind, what might be called "liturgical accretions" had crept to the Roman missal in the centuries following the Council of Trent. What is true of holding hands while praying the Our Father together, also goes for what I called "the reciprocating gesture." I understand that the argument from silence (i.e., nothing is stipulated about these matters) has it weaknesses, but I can't quite grasp why there needs to be a constant fuss about things that are not forbidden and don't violate or contradict an actual rubric or other authentic liturgical law. In order to be truly traditional, tradition must have a certain dynamic.

As a deacon, I try do things the way I am supposed to do them, which, among other things, means not making gestures reserved to the presider, like the 'orans' position or making the sweeping gesture when I say, before reading the Gospel, "The Lord be with you." But it doesn't cause me to go into hysterics when I see a brother deacon do those things.

To wit: how we do liturgy certainly matters, but everything in the liturgy is not of equal importance, not by a long shot. Some things must be done in a certain way, certain things are not to be done, other things may or may not be done. Above all, the liturgy should not produce rank polemics and division either on-line in the "cyberworld" or in the actual world. Because it is the Eucharist who makes us who we are collectively (i.e., it makes us the Church) and individually (i.e., Christians who belong to Christ because we belong to the Church), the liturgy is about Jesus and we, not Jesus and me.

Year C Passion Sunday

Readings: Luke 19:28-40; Isa 50:4-7; Ps 22:8-8.17-20.23-24; Phil 2:6-11; Luke 22:14-23:56

Very often we expend a lot of words attempting explain the mystery of faith. But the mystery of faith is really quite simple to articulate: “Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.” Today on Passion Sunday we not only contemplate, but seek to enter more deeply into one aspect of the mysterium tremendum, namely Christ’s sorrowful passion and death. Today we not only commemorate Christ’s passion and death, we also observe Holy Week in a very compressed form.

Compression is the force used by nature to create diamonds. Hence, we should pray that our compressed observance of Holy Week today will crystallize and turn our observance of the sacred Triduum, which begins at sundown on Thursday with our celebration of the Mass of the Lord’s Supper, into something truly beautiful for God, an observance through which our lives will be transformed thus, by the Holy Spirit's power, conforming us more to the image of Christ by our full, active, and conscious participation in the mystery of our redemption.

What is the image of Christ to which we are to be conformed? St. Paul, in our reading today from his Letter to the Philippians, gave us a deep insight into the person of Jesus Christ, who did not deem equality with God something to be held onto, but something to be let go of. I believe our New Testament reading today holds the interpretive key to our lengthy Gospels. Last Sunday the adult elect of our parish, along with our candidate, all of whom will be fully incorporated into the body of Christ at the great Paschal Vigil next Saturday, were presented with the Nicene Creed. This presentation preceded a discussion of the Creed, the symbol of our faith. It only takes reading through the Nicene Creed once to see that it is what we might call asymmetrical.

The only thing we say about God, the Father, that is not in relation to the Son and/or the Holy Spirit is very brief: “I believe in one God, the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible.”

Jumping ahead in the Creed, we profess belief in “the Holy Spirit, the Lord the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son, who with the Father and the Son is adored and glorified, who has spoken through the prophets.” And we end the Creed by making a very condensed profession: “I believe one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. I confess one baptism for the forgiveness of sins and I look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.”

Between what we profess about God, the Father in and of himself and what we profess about the Holy Spirit, we find the vast majority of the Creed, which is all about Jesus, without whom we could not call God “Father” or have the Holy Spirit. Pope St. John Paul II began his very first encyclical, Redemptor hominis, with these words: “The Redeemer of man, Jesus Christ, is the center of the universe and of history” (par 1). From the beginning Christ, the only and eternally begotten Son of the Father, who is “God from God, Light from Light, True God from True God” is, was, and always will be the center of universe. Perhaps a better translation of the sixth verse of the second chapter of St. Paul’s Letter to the Philippians than what we usually encounter goes something like this: “Who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God.” Jesus is divine.

As St. Paul also noted in our New Testament reading, it was only by becoming human that Jesus became the center of history. Christ the Lord did not deem equality with God something to be held onto, but something to be let go of for us and for our salvation. Rather than cling to his divinity, Christ emptied himself of it, “taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance” (Phil 2:7). Furthermore, he “humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Phil 2:8).

The Greek word for “emptied” in our reading from Philippians is a form of the verb kenosis, but can also mean “to make of no reputation,” or, more to the point, to reduce to nothing. Why does this parsing of words matter? It matters because Jesus not only emptied himself of his divinity for love of you, for you and for your salvation he not only condescended by becoming human, he allowed himself to be humiliated on your behalf, to the point of suffering a degrading and unjust death on the cross.

In the verse immediately preceding our reading from Philippians the apostle exhorted the church in Philippi to “Have among yourselves the same attitude that is also yours in Christ Jesus” (Phil 2:5), before going on to quote what most New Testament scholars believe to be an ancient Christian hymn: “Who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied himself…” (Phil 2:6-7). My dear sisters and brothers, this is the attitude we are to have among ourselves. It’s the only way others will know we are Christians. It is Christ who brings us together week after week, month after month, year after year. Jesus Christ is the reason, the point and purpose, of St. Olaf Parish.

If the Eucharistic liturgy is truly the theologia prima, that is, prime, or first, theology, then it is during Holy Week, especially the Triduum, which are our high holy days - the Easter Vigil being the main liturgy of the entire year - that we see the words that comprise the Creed are an -urgy, not an -ology. The word “urge,” from which we derive the suffix -urgy, means to do, to act, or, in the case of the liturgy, to enact- it refers to something concrete. By contrast, an -ology is abstract. In English we usually define -ology as “the study of” something, as in biology, theology, psychology, etc. Without a doubt, following Christ is an -urgy, not an -ology, just as loving your spouse, your children, your parents, your friends, your fellow parishioners, the poor, the outcast is judged by what you do, or don’t do, not by what you say, let alone by what you intend or think.

Above all, I humbly pray that on this Passion Sunday, in preparation for our celebration of the Paschal Vigil, this man of no reputation, who for our sake let himself be reduced nothing and who, in the words of Rick Elias, “loves us all with relentless affection,” will, by his passion and cross, heal our hearts of darkness, our hearts of stone (song “Man of No Reputation”).

Lent, baptism, penance, and being busy

In terms of busy-ness, March came in like a lion will go out like lion. My busy-ness, which is mostly of the good variety, has prevented me from posting much this month. By busy I don't mean too busy, just busy enough that I have to prioritize and let some things go until I have more time. As enjoyable as I find it, blogging is one of those things I sometimes have to let go of for a week or so. Besides, I am not deluded enough to believe there's anyone who is really jonesing for another post from me. I suppose it may sound a little weird, but I miss blogging when I am unable to do it for very long. This small cyberspace is really part of my life.

What have I been doing? Well, apart from my family and my day job, I've been making arrangements to begin a Doctor of Ministry (D. Min) program at Mt. Angel Seminary in Oregon. Assuming it all works out my first (of 3) residencies will be this summer. I have also been busy preparing to lead a retreat for the Elect and Candidates of our diocese. The retreat is tomorrow. I've been giving some serious thought to a book proposal I have been invited to submit by a Catholic publisher. I don't mind sharing that I find the prospect of writing a book very intimidating. This week, I participated in our diocese's annual Chrism Mass for which Archbishop George Niederauer, Archbishop Emeritus of San Francisco and former Bishop of Salt Lake City, was the celebrant. It was then-Bishop Niederauer who ordained me. Also, I've been preparing to preach on Passion/Palm Sunday.

The main focus of the retreat I am leading tomorrow is a passage from The Gospel According to St. John, namely 4:4-42. This passage is the gospel reading for the Third Sunday of Lent during Year A of the lectionary. It is also the gospel reading for the Mass at which the First Scrutiny is celebrated, regardless of the lectionary year. As per The Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA), there are three scrutinies for the elect. The elect are people, women and men, along with boys and girls who have reached the age of reason (reckoned to be 7-8), who will be baptized at the Paschal Vigil. The scrutinizing element of the scrutinies is the gospel reading. So, it is not the case that the elect are scrutinized by the community to determine if they are ready to receive the sacraments of initiation. Their readiness was verified at the Rite Election, which happens around the First Sunday of Lent. Rather, the elect scrutinize themselves in light of the Gospel.

According to the RCIA, the scrutinizing gospel passages serve two purposes. First, “the elect are instructed gradually about the mystery of sin, from which the whole world and every person longs to be delivered and thus saved from its present and future consequences” (RCIA, 143). Secondly, the scrutinies should fill the spirit of the elect “with Christ the Redeemer, who is the living water (gospel of the Samaritan woman in the first scrutiny), the light of the world (gospel of the man born blind in the second scrutiny, the resurrection and the life (gospel of Lazarus in the third scrutiny). From the first to the final scrutiny the elect should progress in their perception of sin and their desire for salvation” (RCIA, 143).

In light of all this, our Friday traditio is Jars of Clay, with an assist from the The Blind Boys of Alabama, singing the hymn "On Jordan's Stormy Bank I Stand," from their album Redemption Songs:

In my spare time I have been reading Msgr Giussani's At the Origin of the Christian Claim along with José Pagola's Jesus" An Historical Approximation. What is strange about reading these two books together this is that in his book Pagola employs the kind of methodology that Giussani rejects in his. For his rejection, Giussani invokes Hans Von Balthasar, who wrote that far too often there is a rule is imposed that holds it is only the one who employs solely the historical-critical who is "unprejudiced by faith" (At the Origin 42). The rule holds that it is only the one who approaches the gospels in this way who is "in any position to see the truth of what happened at the time in Palestine" (42). While it's true that Pagola seeks to apply just the kind of method critiqued, I have benefited a lot from reading the book. For example, I found his section on the baptism administered by the Baptist to be fascinating. Pagola points out that it is very likely that those Jews who were baptized by the John the Baptist in the River Jordan entered the Jordan from the east side, which was the direction from which ancient Israel, liberated from Egypt, entered it, and came upon on the western side of the river, into the promised land (81).

According the Second Vatican Council's Dogmatic Constitution on the Liturgy, Sacrosanctum concilium, “The two elements which are especially characteristic of Lent -- the recalling of baptism or the preparation for it, and penance -- should be given greater emphasis in the liturgy and in liturgical catechesis. It is by means of them that the Church prepares the faithful for the celebration of Easter, while they hear God's word more frequently and devote more time to prayer” (par. 109).

"Do you feel in me, anything redeeming"?

Our Friday traditio for this Fourth Friday of Lent is U2's "Shadows and Tall Trees." This song, which was one of the band's demo tracks, appeared on their 1980 album Boy. I had the cassette tape version and I wore it out. "Shadows and Tall Trees" is actually my second favorite track from the album. My favorite is "I Will Follow."

This song seems fitting for a gray, overcast day in early March. The snow is melted, but everything looks disheveled and even dead. It's even too early where I live for that feeling of life to emerge. But I wait in joyful hope, even if the joy is of the fake it 'til you make it variety.

The face of God

Jacob was called Israel because he spent an entire night wrestling with an angel, or, as most Scripture scholars would concede, wrestling with God. According to the footnote in my Bible, "Israel" means either "'one who strives with God' or 'God strives.'" I don't claim to be a Hebrew scholar, but I suggest that theologically it might make more sense (and at the same time less sense, thus giving us a true insight into the divine) to replace the "or" with an "and." Going back to the beginning of Israel (i.e., the night of Jacob's wrestling match), which was the night before Jacob was to meet his brother Esau after more than 20 years of being away. Understandably, Jacob was fearful of meeting Esau not only because he had extorted Esau's birth right in exchange for food when Esau was famished, but because he also usurped Esau's blessing from their father, Isaac, by deceiving their father at the behest of his mother Rebekah, making Isaac think that he was Esau.

In my view, the scene of Jacob and Esau meeting is one of the truly remarkable scenes found anywhere in Sacred Scripture. Esau went out to meet Jacob with 400 men, leading Jacob to believe that his older brother had come to exact revenge, to do him harm, perhaps even kill him. And so, believing revenge was Esau's motive, Jacob had an elaborate plan to split his large traveling party in two and to appease Esau by offering him a gift of many, many animals from his flocks. But upon seeing his younger brother, the very one who had so callously deprived him of his dignity as the older brother, Esau, much like the father in the Lord's parable of the Prodigal Son, "ran to meet him" (Gen 33:4). Upon encountering his wily younger brother, Esau "embraced him, and fell on his neck and kissed him" (Gen 33:4). Scripture tells us that as they embraced "they wept" (Gen 33:4).

After embracing and weeping together, Jacob introduced his family to his brother. Initially, Esau refused Jacob's generous offering to him, telling his younger brother that he had enough. He accepted the gift because Jacob insisted, saying, "No, please; if I find favor with you, then accept my present from my hand; for truly to see your face is like seeing the face of God - since you have received me with such favor" (Gen 33:10).

As I read it, we see the face of God when we are received with favor despite whatever we have done, the way Esau received Jacob despite what he had done against him. It has always struck me as a little odd that in this passage it is Esau, not the "patriarch" Jacob, who acts in so godly a manner. Being the sinner I am, it is always easier for me to identify with Jacob. But I am not going to let myself off that easily. How often could I act after the manner of Esau, graciously extending love to someone who has wronged me, even if, unlike Jacob, they don't make a magnanimous gesture either out of fear, which was clearly Jacob's motive, or genuine contrition? God stands always ready to welcome us the way Esau welcomed Jacob.

St. Paul wrote to the Ephesians: "Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you" (Eph 4:32). I don't know about you, but I sometimes find the Christian community one of the least forgiving places. Maybe this is an extension of the oddity of Esau being the godly person and Jacob being the deceptive person. This would explain a lot of theological contretemps. In this regard, it is somewhat understandable that the Church consists of a lot of people like me, Jacobs, rather than Esaus. But being Jacobs, as Paul intimates, should make us more like Esau. My question is- Does it?

Looking ahead in Genesis, it is easy to see that in his son Joseph, who behaves towards his less-than-deserving brothers after the manner of his uncle, Esau, lies Jacob's vindication. At least in my view, Jacob is one of least sympathetic figures in Scripture, which is perhaps why it is so easy for me to identify with him.

Mercy moment

My pace of blogging in March is what I expected it to be after the first of the year. As I pondered blogging over the last few days it occurred to me that the last time I posted was an early Friday traditio last Thursday. But this thought didn't really prompt me to action. One of my key Lenten endeavors, prayerfully-discerned, was to begin to develop a healthier relationship with being on-line, which is code for using social media more sparingly. Along with Facebook, Twitter, and G+, blogging is social media. But for me, blogging is a form a social media that I find useful and is actually a vehicle for growth.

Once again, beginning 1 March - the Feast of St. David of Wales, on which this year I posted nothing- I began, again, the endeavor to read the Bible in a year. Well, actually, I began yesterday, 7 March, by reading chapters 22-24 of Genesis. But since the plan I am following kind of forces you to start at the beginning of the month, I am reading the chapters for the current day in the morning and the 21 make-up chapters from 1-6 March in the evening at a pace of at least 3 chapters a day. Tonight, feeling a little ambitious and having the time, I read chapters 5-10 of Genesis. Included in those chapters is the well-known tale of Noah and the ark.

It was interesting to consider that both before and after the flood God noted the wickedness of humanity:

The LORD saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. And the LORD regretted that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart. So the LORD said, “I will blot out man whom I have created from the face of the land, man and animals and creeping things and birds of the heavens, for I am sorry that I have made them" (Gen 6:5-17- ESV)

After the floodwaters subsided and Noah and his family left the ark for dry land, Noah "built an altar to the LORD and took some of every clean animal and some of every clean bird and offered burnt offerings on the altar" (Gen 8:20-ESV). Upon smelling "the pleasing aroma" of Noah's sacrifice, "the LORD said in his heart, “I will never again curse the ground because of man, for the intention of man’s heart is evil from his youth. Neither will I ever again strike down every living creature as I have done" (Gen 8:21-ESV).

This reminded me of the important, I would say necessary, juxtaposition of two verses of Scripture: "The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is insight" (Prov 9:10-ESV) with "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not a been perfected in love" (1 John 4:18- ESV). Knowing the love of the Father given us in the Son by the power of the Holy Spirit is what it means to have "the knowledge of the Holy One," which is why we can gauge our holiness by our willingness and ability to love.

Realizing how utterly preachy the last phrase of the last sentence of the above paragraph sounds, let me assure anyone who reads this that neither my willingness nor my ability to love, especially those closest to me, would qualify me as holy by that definition, not by a long shot. It is this realization about myself that helps me to better grasp that God's vow to never again "curse the ground because of man" or destroy every living thing is not conditional on our righteousness, which is what makes it truly mercy. This epiphany of sorts also helps me to appreciate, in light of Noah's pleasing sacrifice, which prompted God to establish his faithfulness as an ordinance, as opposed to a covenant, how important the Church's Treasury of Merit is for us all.

Citing Bl. Pope Paul VI's Apostolic Constitution Indulgentiarum doctrina, the Catechism of the Catholic Church notes, "In the communion of saints, 'a perennial link of charity exists between the faithful who have already reached their heavenly home, those who are expiating their sins in purgatory and those who are still pilgrims on earth. Between them there is, too, an abundant exchange of all good things'" (par 1475). After all, communio sanctorum refers to the communion of holy people and holy things. The Church's Treasury of Merit, according Pope Paul, "is the infinite value, which can never be exhausted, which Christ's merits have before God. They were offered so that the whole of mankind could be set free from sin and attain communion with the Father. In Christ, the Redeemer himself, the satisfactions and merits of his Redemption exist and find their efficacy" (Indulgentiarum doctrina, par 5).

"This treasury," Papa Montini insisted, also includes "the prayers and good works of the Blessed Virgin Mary. They are truly immense, unfathomable, and even pristine in their value before God. In the treasury, too, are the prayers and good works of all the saints, all those who have followed in the footsteps of Christ the Lord and by his grace have made their lives holy and carried out the mission the Father entrusted to them. In this way they attained their own salvation and at the same time cooperated in saving their brothers in the unity of the Mystical Body" (Indulgentiarum doctrina, par 5).

My mercy moment today did not begun with reading the account of the flood in Genesis, but by praying Evening Prayer for Wednesday during the Fourth of Week of Lent, particularly the responsory to the scriptural reading. The scriptural reading is from the second chapter of the Letter of St. James, which emphatically highlights that faith that is truly faith is made manifest by good works. Following this reading makes the responsory all the more poignant:

To you, O Lord, I make my prayer for mercy.
    - To you, O Lord, I make my prayer for mercy.
Heal my soul, for I have sinned against you.
    - I make my prayer for mercy.
Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit.
    - To you, O Lord, I make my prayer for mercy