Friday, April 2, 2010

Good Friday traditio


With a deep diaconal bow to my dear friend Sharon, who first posted this on Quaerere Deum, this lovely musical setting of the De Profundis (i.e., Psalm 130) accompanying Georges Rouault's Miserere cycle of paintings is our Good Friday traditio.

Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani

Good Friday


"He mounted the Cross to free us from the fascination with nothingness, to free us from the fascination with appearances, with the ephemeral."- Msgr. Giussani

I am preaching the final three of Jesus' 7 Last Words, the words He spoke as He hung upon the cross. I went ahead and prepared a brief reflection on the fourth of our Lord's Seven Last Words "Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani" from Matthew 27:46:

Godforsaken, desolate, devastated; these are words we use to describe our experience of suffering. Jesus’ question as He hangs on the cross in the throes of an excruciatingly painful death is understandable and very human. His death on the cross is the kind of cruel death undergone by tens, if not hundreds of millions of people, over the course of history.

In Scripture, these words occur at the beginning of the twenty-second Psalm and are followed by this cry: "Why so far from my call for help, from my cries of anguish? My God, I call by day, but you do not answer; by night, but I have no relief." Likewise, do we not often call out like this in the midst of our own suffering? Suffering causes us to feel helpless because, in addition to the pain, we realize how little we actually control. This realization causes us to fear. Coming to realize how little we control forces us to ask whether anyone is in control. As we consider our own suffering, which for most of us, if we are honest, pales in comparison to the suffering of so many, we tend to either conclude,  looking at our own situation and the state of the world, either that nobody is in control, or that God is in control.

This move in favor of God being in control can be very inauthentic if we make it only to avoid asking why. The question why is the most human question we can ask. By asking why, we demand meaning. To be human is to require meaning. Suffering forces us to ask why with great fervor. Indeed, perhaps the biggest obstacle to believing in God for many people is the amount of suffering in the world, not to mention in their own lives and the lives of those near to them. Refusal to believe in the face of so much human suffering is certainly a more authentic response than the pragmatic move of believing to avoid asking the question.

All of this is just to set-up an intellectual problem, which is an exercise in abstraction. The Buddha’s assertion that to live is to suffer is correct. We know this through our own experience. We want to believe that all this suffering has a point and a purpose. The point and purpose of suffering is revealed to us by the Paschal Mystery of Jesus’ passion, death, and resurrection. But this, too, can be for us nothing more than an abstraction.

It is only through our own experience of suffering that we come to see that God is never more present to us than when we suffer, when we struggle, when we're down. This is how resurrection becomes something experiential and not just something we wish for, not really believing it. As we immerse ourselves in our own commemoration of the Paschal Mystery let us take the opportunity to see how this great mystery plays out in our individual lives and in our life together as Church. Dying is a limit, a horizon beyond which we cannot see. Yet, we believe that because of Christ we will be resurrected. In order for this to be more than a mere wish, we have to follow Christ, which means daily dying to ourselves. It is only by following Christ that I truly understand the great mystery of, not only how God brings life from death through Christ Jesus by the power of the Holy Spirit, but I see how God brings me from death to new life through Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Paschal Triduum begins

Jesus washes his disciples' feet, by Giotto di Bondone, 1304-06

during supper, fully aware that the Father had put everything into his power and that he had come from God and was returning to God, he rose from supper and took off his outer garments. He took a towel and tied it around his waist. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and dry them with the towel around his waist. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, "Master, are you going to wash my feet?" Jesus answered and said to him, "What I am doing, you do not understand now, but you will understand later." Peter said to him, "You will never wash my feet." Jesus answered him, "Unless I wash you, you will have no inheritance with me." Simon Peter said to him, "Master, then not only my feet, but my hands and head as well." (John 13:2b-9) .

I just find it truly beautiful that this is the institution narrative in St. John's Gospel because it is the basis for diaconal ministry. So, tonight at sunset, Lent ends and the Triduum begins. Let us put aside everything else and joyfully enter into these highest of holy days. If you can, take tomorrow off work, pray earnestly all night tomorrow and Saturday, and join in the great Easter Vigil, the highest and holiest liturgy. The great Easter Vigil is the axis around which time revolves.

"I have given you a model to follow, so that as I have done for you, you should also do."

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

The embrace of Christ

"The Church is a human reality in which can be found unworthy people, rude people of little worth, sometimes violent, fragile, and presumptuous men, inadequate parents and rebellious children. But the Church does not stay on the other side, that is to say that of the Pharisees and of those without sin."

These words by Don Gius, spoken in April 2000 and published in the National Catholic Register, which, strangely enough, given the present circumstances we face, is a publication owned by the Legionaries of Christ, which came to me via my dear friend Sharon, over at Quaerere Deum, state very well the reality of the Church, which we all too easily lose sight of during trying times. Such observations are nothing new. St. Augustine's preaching is rife with such insights.

It bears repeating, that "[i]f the Church, with all its limitations, had not [the embrace of Christ] to offer to the world, even to the victims of those barbarities, then we would be lost. Because the evil would still be there, but it would be impossible to overcome it."

As I was typing this post I received an e-mail with the Holy Father's blessing for all the CL communities leading public Ways of the Cross on Good Friday attached. The Holy Father "prays that as the faithful silently accompany the Savior along the path of His redemptive suffering, they will enter more deeply into the inexhaustible mystery of the Cross and acknowledge it as the definitive sign of God's boundless mercy and reconciling love."

Meum cum sim pulvis et cinis

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Greater than Sin

I am happy to post in its entirety the response of Communion and Liberation to the recent scrutiny to which the Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI, has been subjected by certain secular publications and media outlets. I quite agree with His Excellency, Archbishop Timothy Dolan of New York, who said today "Palm Sunday Mass is sure a fitting place for us to express our love and solidarity for our earthly shepherd now suffering some of the same unjust accusations, shouts of the mob, and scourging at the pillar, as did Jesus."

The CL statement begins below:

"There would be much to discuss about the events that led Benedict XVI to write his Letter to the Catholics of Ireland, and we could do this by starting from the facts, the numbers, and the data which, if looked at attentively, reveal a reality much less enormous than appears from the ferocious media campaign. Or we could start from the contradictions of those who, in the same newspaper, denounce certain wicked deeds, but after a few pages justify everything and everybody, especially in matters of sex. We could do this, and perhaps it would help to understand the context of a Church really under attack, whatever its errors may be. Only the Pope’s humble and courageous gesture pointed attention toward the heart of the question.

"Clearly there is a wound, a very serious one, one of the kind that provoked Christ (and his vicars, too) to use fiery words ('Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.').

"There is filth in the Church. Joseph Ratzinger himself said so during the Way of the Cross at the Coliseum five years ago, shortly before being elected Pope and, realistically, he has never stopped recalling the fact since. Sin is there, grave sin. Evil is there, along with the abyss of pain that evil carries with it, and everything possible has to be done, and with firmness, to stem the evil and to make amends for that pain. The Pope is already doing this, and his letter reiterates it strongly when it asks the guilty to 'answer for it before Almighty God and before properly constituted tribunals.'


"This is precisely why the true heart of the question, the forgotten focus, lies elsewhere. Alongside all the limitations and within the Church’s wounded humanity, is there or is there not something greater than sin, something radically greater than sin? Is there something that can shatter the inexorable weight of our evil? Something that, as the Pope writes, 'has the power to forgive even the greatest of sins, and to bring forth good even from the most terrible evil'?

"'This is the point: God was moved by our nothingness,' Fr. Giussani said in the phrase quoted on the CL Easter Poster. 'Not only that. God was moved by our betrayal, by our crude, forgetful, and treacherous poverty, by our pettiness... It’s compassion, pity, passion. He had pity on me.' This is what the Church brings to the world, and certainly not because of its members’ merit, goodness, or even less because of their coherence: God’s compassion for our pettiness, something greater than our limitations, the only thing infinitely greater than our limitations. If we don’t start from here, we cannot understand at all; everything goes mad, literally.

"We, too, have had moments when we have dodged that compassion, and run away from it. At times, it is in the Church itself that faith is reduced to ethics and morality is reduced to an impossible lonely recourse to laws, as if the need of that embrace were something to be ashamed of. But if we forget Christ, if we do away with the wholly different measure that He introduces into the world now, through the Church, then we no longer have the terms on which to judge the Church.

"Then it becomes easy to mistake attention for the victims and regard for their history for a conniving silence, and prudence toward the guilty parties, true or presumed – perhaps accused on the basis of rumors emerging after decades – for the will to 'cover up' (sadly it has sometimes been the case). Then it is almost inevitable to keep arguing about celibacy without even touching on the real value of virginity. And it becomes impossible to understand why the Church can be hard and motherly at the same time with the priests who go wrong. It can punish them severely and ask them to serve their sentence and make amends for the evil (it has already done so in the past, and will always do so), but without snapping, if possible, that thread that binds them, because it is the only thing that can redeem them. It can ask its children to 'be perfect as your heavenly father is perfect,' not so as to demand of them an impossible irreprehensibilty, but so as to remind them of a tension to live the same mercy with which God embraces us ('be merciful as your heavenly father is merciful').

"This is why the Church can educate, which, in the end, is the real question being challenged by those who are accusing it ('See, even the priests do wrong, and badly wrong. How can we trust our children?') as if the Church’s being teacher all depended on the behavior of her children, and not on Christ, on that presence which – amidst all the errors and horrors committed –makes possible in the world an embrace like that of Chagall’s Prodigal Son which appears on the Easter Poster. There, alongside Fr.Giussani’s phrase, there is another, by Benedict XVI: 'Conversion to Christ ultimately means this: to exit the illusion of self-sufficiency in order to discover and accept one’s own need– the need of His forgiveness and His friendship.'

"This is the embrace of Christ, in our wounded and needy humanity, far greater than the evil we can do. If the Church, with all its limitations, had not this to offer to the world, even to the victims of those barbarities, then we would be lost. Because the evil would still be there, but it would be impossible to overcome it."

Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini

Saturday, March 27, 2010

"Prepare ye the way for the Lord. Prepare ye the way for the kingdom"


"Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord; peace in heaven and glory in the highest."

Sticking with my Lenten theme of posting covers, Palm Sunday is a prefect time to link to Caedmaon's Call singing the John Michael Talbot song Prepare Ye the Way, from which the title of this post and my previous Palm Sunday posts is taken.

This Holy Week open yourself and the Lord will show you how much He loves you, not just love unto death, but love that conquers death, a love that never dies. As His Grace, N.T. Wright, has written: "'Amor, ergo sum': I am loved, therefore I am."

As always, posting during Holy Week will be catch-as-catch can, which is to say it depends on how and if I am moved. Of course, the Triduum will feature simple statements about the One who by His life, death, resurrection, ascension, and sending of the Holy Spirit, redeemed us and Who now seeks to sanctify us, to make us holy.

Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini

In Christ, with Christ, and through Christ "we are more than conquerors"

For some reason I have heard people say a lot recently that "God never gives you more than you can handle." Understandably, the response of many to this assertion, which is often made with great certainity, is fear because, especially today, we always have a lot. A lot of us have so much that we worry on a daily basis that our limit will be exceeded. As a result, we think if one more thing happens, especially if it is something bad, like our car breaking down, a child or a spouse having medical problems, coming down with something ourselves, some budget-busting thing emerges, we get laid off, our limit will be exceeded. You know what? Maybe this is true. Exceeding our limit creates an opening for Christ, by the power His Spirit, to make up for what we lack.

When we think that there is some limit imposed on God, even if it is God self-imposing a limit, beyond which our life just stops until we get caught up, we are fooling ourselves and setting ourselves up to then say, when we have decided that we've had enough, "Well, God gave me more than I can handle. I'm outta here." Frankly, dear friends this is childishness. It is dangerous. It is important to note that, in terms of casusality, God doesn't work like that. This is one of those instances in which a little theology is eminently practical. Most importantly, thinking this way causes you to miss much of what God is doing in your life and to see for yourself how God works.

The only passage in the New Testament I know of that could possibly be used to justify the assertion that God will not give us more than we can bear is 1 Corinthians 10:13, which reads: "No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it." So, we are talking about temptation, not bad things, things beyond your control, like cars, health, accidents, earthquakes, tsunamis, etc. None of these are punishments from God, those who insist they are divine punishments are as childish, maybe more so, than people who impose imaginary limits on reality.

The Temptation of St. Anthony, by Félicien Rops (1878)

When I am tempted I am faced with a choice, to do something that seems attractive, or to do what is truly right and good, which is to act not only in accordance with reason, but to act in harmony with what I truly desire. Hence, I have some power in the given situation. This is exactly what St. Paul is discussing in the whole passage from 1 Corithians 10, which runs from verse six through verse thirteen. He is writing to Gentile Christians who were formerly pagans and who were not only tempted to return, but in some cases had actually returned, to pagan practices, like temple prostitution, etc. There is a prayer in the Liturgy of the Hours that enjoins us to resist temptation to the shedding of our blood. After all, don't you think some of the early Christian martyrs were sorely tempted to make the token sacrifice to an idol in order to spare their lives? For them the way out God provided was being eaten by a wild beast in a coliseum. You see, dying is not the worse thing that can happen to any of us.

What does God give us? God gives us Jesus Christ. Christ conquered the world. He even vanquished death. The take away is that because in Christ we have everything there is nothing we cannot face or with which we are unable to deal, I mean NOTHING! St. Paul makes this point over and again throughout his letters. I particularly like this passage:

"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written,

'For your sake we are being killed all the day long;
we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.'

"No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord"
(Romans 8:35-39- underlining emphasis mine).

Christianity is not a folk religion. God is never more present to us than when we struggle, than when we're down. This is how resurrection becomes something experiential and not just something we wish for, not really believing it. Being on the verge of Holy Week is an opportune time to both reflect on and see how the Paschal Mystery plays out in our individual lives and in our life together as Church. Look at it this way, some day you will die. Dying is a limit, a horizon beyond which you cannot see. Because of Christ you will be resurrected. In this way God exceeds your limit. It doesn't work that differently right now, while you are alive. Following Christ is a daily dying to self. Only by dying to myself daily do I see, not only how God brings life from death through Christ Jesus by the power of the Holy Spirit, but I see how God brings me from death to new life through Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Meum cum sim pulvis et cinis

The scandal of God's love

Romans 8:35.37-39 Once again, I am reflecting on our reading from Romans. These inspired passages are vital for Christian faith. The beau...