There is power in the name of Jesus

Readings: Num 11:25-29; Ps 19:8.10.12-14; James 5:1-6; Mark 9:38-43.45.47-48

There is a great temptation when preaching or commenting on today's Gospel to say or write something that is religiously indifferent, to imply or even insist that, in the end, it really doesn't matter, just do good things. While I think there are some ecumenical implications in Jesus' response to the man casting out demons in His name in today's Gospel, I don't think there is anything in the least indifferent in what Jesus' conveyed to John in light of the beloved apostle's complaint.

Think about casting out demons in the name of Jesus: it was something the Twelve failed to do in a previous passage from Mark chapter 9. After coming down the mountain from His Transfiguration with Peter, James, and John, Jesus encounters His disciples arguing with the scribes. Upon seeing Jesus, the whole crowd, which had gathered for the dispute, ran to Him. He asks His disciples, "What are you arguing about with them?" Before His disciples had the chance to answer, a man from the crowd told Jesus, "Teacher, I have brought to you my son possessed by a mute spirit. Wherever it seizes him, it throws him down; he foams at the mouth, grinds his teeth, and becomes rigid. I asked your disciples to drive it out, but they were unable to do so" (Mark 9:17-18). Jesus then cast out the demon from the afflicted boy. Afterwards, when the Twelve were alone with Him, they asked the Lord, "Why could we not drive it out?" To which He replied, "This kind can only come out through prayer." Some manuscripts add "and fasting" after the word "prayer".

Perhaps what the disciples find so vexing about seeing a man who did not belong to their group casting demons in the name of Jesus (this is important) was it highlighted their failure to do so in the previous incident. My friends, there is power in the name of Jesus. It is a power given us in Baptism, in and through which you were constituted as a member of God's priestly, prophetic, and royal people. Too often we fail to recognize and so fail to leverage the power given us in this fundamental sacrament. As Catholics we recognize the Christianity of all who have been validly baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. When baptized Christians seek to come into full communion with the Church we do not re-baptize them. In fact, it's important that we don't!

Just yesterday I read a wonderful article by Fr Robert Hart in Touchstone magazine on what all Christian clergy can learn from the life, ministry, and preaching of Dr Billy Graham Billy: "Graham is a Baptist, and very clearly of the best in the Baptist tradition. But he has had ecumenical appeal and been admired by Christians from all denominations. A friend of Pope John Paul II in later years, and of many well-known figures in Anglicanism and various other Protestant denominations, he really did preach 'mere Christianity.'"

In the Second Vatican Council's decree on ecumenism (i.e., the relations between Catholic and non-Catholic Christians), Unitatis reintegratio, the Council fathers asserted,

For men who believe in Christ and have been truly baptized are in communion with the Catholic Church even though this communion is imperfect. The differences that exist in varying degrees between them and the Catholic Church - whether in doctrine and sometimes in discipline, or concerning the structure of the Church - do indeed create many obstacles, sometimes serious ones, to full ecclesiastical communion. The ecumenical movement is striving to overcome these obstacles. But even in spite of them it remains true that all who have been justified by faith in Baptism are members of Christ's body, and have a right to be called Christian, and so are correctly accepted as brothers by the children of the Catholic Church (par 3)

Constituted by Baptism as God's people we can apply the words of Moses: "If only all the people of the LORD were prophets! If only the LORD would bestow his spirit on them" (Num 11:29).

Jesus casting out demons

In what Jesus teaches in today's Gospel with reference to our second reading from the the Letter of James, we see that acting in the name of Jesus is not limited to spectacular things, like casting out demons. Acting in the name of Jesus more frequently takes the form of serving those in need. In his encyclical letter Deus caritas est, Pope Benedict XVI put it this way:

The Spirit is also the energy which transforms the heart of the ecclesial community, so that it becomes a witness before the world to the love of the Father, who wishes to make humanity a single family in his Son. The entire activity of the Church is an expression of a love that seeks the integral good of man: it seeks his evangelization through Word and Sacrament, an undertaking that is often heroic in the way it is acted out in history; and it seeks to promote man in the various arenas of life and human activity. Love is therefore the service that the Church carries out in order to attend constantly to man's sufferings and his needs, including material needs (par 19)

Indeed, they will know that we are Christians, that we belong to Christ, that we follow Christ, by our love made manifest in service to those in need. Jesus also points out that any one who does good to us because we belong to Him "will surely not lose his reward" (Mark 9:41).

We live life with our bodies. We are not spirits trapped in bodies awaiting release or liberation, but fulfillment and satisfaction, which will come for the saints in the resurrection. This is something God's Incarnation in Christ Jesus shows in the most profound way imaginable. While sin may originate in our hearts, we do what is wrong, what does not lead to our flourishing or flourishing of others, with our bodies. Jesus' stark warning about the seriousness of sin and its eternal consequences cannot be ignored. In this passage our Lord uses what is called hyperbole. To employ hyperbole is to exaggerate for effect in order to make a point. Jesus' here is not literally calling on us to maim ourselves for the sake of purity in order to go to heaven. After all, we don't see the Twelve, whose sins and failings are made manifest throughout the Gospels, maiming themselves. But seeking to mortify, that is, kill our sinful habits and tendencies is something Christians have done for 2,000 years.

Sin is the mortal disease of the soul, as Jesus clearly tells us in this passage from St Mark. About Dr Graham's manner of life, even when on the road, Fr Hart observed, "He was humble enough to see himself as inherently no better than other men, as a sinner who needed, for his own sake, to remain focused on Jesus Christ." Mortification, rightly practiced, enables us to overcome temptations to sin by inducing the will to accept hardships, however great. Mortifying practices, like all spiritual disciplines, are not ends in themselves, but means to an end. The end is being one with God in Christ through the Spirit. So, we need to remain always focused on Jesus Christ, keeping the Lord between us and circumstances and not allowing circumstances to obscure our focus on Him.

Seeking to put life's hardships, large and small, in the Lord's service is what gave rise to the Catholic phrase "offer it up." Sadly, these days, this phrase is almost always used in jest in response to some minor complaint uttered out loud. But the reality is, we can offer up our sufferings and afflictions and engage in practices, like fasting, that allow us to participate in God's reconciling the world to Himself in Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit. One way we do this is not by complaining out loud, but quietly offering up to God our hardships and suffering, large or small. To some extent, mortification is obligatory on all Christians. It doesn't take too much self-examination for us discover sinful tendencies and habits to which we are prone. These can be overcome, even if slowly and in fits and starts, by God's grace. We must be mindful that grace builds on nature, which means that we need to freely cooperate with what God is doing, which is bringing about our sanctification.

Brief reflections on Pope Francis' visit

I suppose I will have my membership card as a Catholic blogger pulled if I don't post something on Pope Francis' Apostolic Journey to these United States. It seems that his visit is going swimmingly. It looks and sounds as if he is hitting all the right notes. I won't bore you with my run-down of his public appearances and or provide editorial commentary on his various addresses, except to say that I liked his U.N. address much better than I liked his speech to Congress and that I liked what he said at St Patrick's Church in Washington, DC, right after his address to Congress and just before joining the homeless for lunch, best of all.

Like every one else in my Catholic/Christian bubble, I am engaging (reacting to?) the papal visit on Facebook and other social media quite extensively. The older I get the more I understand that the papacy in the modern Catholic Church, while indispensable (it is one of the reasons I became and remain a Catholic), has taken on an exaggerated importance.

Last night and today, courtesy of something Rod Dreher posted on his blog over at The American Conservative, a piece that asks "Is America Post-Christian?", I have been pondering the pope's visit and hoopla surrounding papal visits in general. I happen to be of the opinion that the U.S. was conceived as and remains a secular nation. So, at least from my perspective, the United States, in a very real sense, has been a post-Christian nation since its inception, albeit one that relies on a belief in the transcendental nature of human being, deliberately left undefined, which is an ambiguity Christians often to try to exploit, sometimes in the best sense of that word (i.e., exploit) and sometimes in the worst sense.

I am content that the papal visit is taking place on the East coast, far from where I live. Further and unapologetically I felt no impetus to travel there. This is no knock on those who wanted to go and so went.

Pool/Getty Image

Dreher's post directed me to two other pieces that I found most useful: Ross Douthat's "Pope Francis and the Not-Quite-Secular West" and Mollie Hemingway's more-to-the-point "The Pope Francis Effect: Enthusiasm, But To What End?" I will not endeavor to summarize either article. If you wanted to read one and not the other I recommend Hemingway's. I will say that her piece brought out my intermittent desire to be an Anglo-Catholic, one that I expressed with yesterday's traditio.

Many years ago, during a late night undergraduate "deep" conversation, a close friend and I tried to describe what the normal, everyday, facial expressions of people we knew seemed to convey. Inevitably we wound up sharing what each of us thought the default facial expression of the other expressed. My friend said mine was ambivalence. If that's true, I think it's accurate.

For me, hope is the space that exists between pessimism and optimism. This insight helps me in my ambivalence. Ambivalence, in this context, understood as "simultaneous and contradictory attitudes or feelings (as attraction and repulsion) toward an object, person, or action."

"My days are like a shadow that declineth"

I fancy myself as something of an Anglo-Catholic. One thing for certain, I love Anglican choral psalmody. Psalm 102, known as Domine, exaudi )"Lord, hear me") is our Friday traditio for this week.

A rough outline of Psalm 102 goes something like this: a sorrowful complaint of great afflictions; (1-11) Encouragement by expecting the performances of God's promises; (12-22) The unchangeableness of God. (23-28). Verse one from the King James Version: "(A prayer of the afflicted, when he is overwhelmed, and poureth out his complaint before the LORD.) Hear my prayer, O LORD, and let my cry come unto thee.

"For I have eaten ashes like bread, and mingled my drink with weeping, Because of thine indignation and thy wrath: for thou hast lifted me up, and cast me down" (Psalm 102:9-10).

Today, my oldest daughter turns 19.

Year B Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Wis 2:12.17-20; Ps 54:3-6.1; Jas 3:16-4:3; Mark 9:30-37

The late Fr Benedict Groeschel used to point out regularly that the world usually mocks holiness. In our first reading this Sunday taken from the Book of Wisdom we hear a good example of what Fr Groeschel meant. The sacred author puts on the lips of the wicked, those who act contrary to God, harsh words against the “just one.” The wicked find the just, or righteous, man “obnoxious” because “he sets himself against” their wicked actions and “reproaches” them for their wickedness (Wis 2:12). This comes in the first verse of our first reading after which we skip 5 verses from the second chapter of Wisdom, jumping from verse 12 to verse 17. Those five verses carry on in the same manner as verse 12, reciting all the ways the wicked people find the just man, the righteous man, obnoxious to them. In verse 15, for example, it is noted that the life of the righteous man “is not like that of others,” noting that “different are his ways” (Wis 2:15). As a saying typically attributed to Flannery O’Connor goes, “You shall know the truth and the truth will make you odd.”

Despite being obnoxious, the righteous man has clearly pricked the conscience of the wicked, which is why the wicked, in order to determine whether or not the righteous “one is the son of God” (Wis 2:18), or truly righteous, proposes to persecute him “with violence and torture,” even going so far as to “condemn him to a shameful death” (Wis 2:20). The wicked put the righteous one to the test in order to see if in the face of violence, torture, and even death he will remain steadfast in “gentleness” and “patience” (Wis 2:19). You see, the righteous person does not threaten the wicked by vehemently denouncing their wickedness, but by confidently living the truth, contra mundi (against the world), that is, peacefully and gently, for all to see. This is how Christians bear witness to what is beautiful. What is truly beautiful is so because it is also true and good. It is by living for God that we reproach wickedness. To reproach is to express disapproval or disappointment

We read and interpret Scripture too glibly if we jump from our first reading immediately to the life and witness of our Lord Jesus Christ, even though, clearly, these words are fully realized in His passion, and death. The corollary to this in our own time ought to be obvious to anyone with eyes to see and ears to hear. If we are truly living for God, which means rejecting political ideologies whether of the right or the left, we run the risk of being seen as somewhat politically incoherent because our politics, as such, do not derive from the platforms of political parties, but from the Gospel of Jesus Christ found in Sacred Scripture and Tradition as set forth by the magisterium of the Church.

Hence, when it comes to matters of life and death- whether confronting the evils of abortion or physician-assisted suicide, which, time and again, has proven only to lead to euthanasia, or the myriad of other ways society disregards and seeks to simply dispose of vulnerable human beings that a truly just society would protect and not kill- we must take a stand. We must be willing to be courageous when it comes to conscientiously bearing witness to the truth about the nature and purpose of marriage, which, for a Catholic, cannot be reduced to a matter of personal opinion, as well as the growing confusion about sexuality that is the result of a cultural mindset that sees this life as all there is. We also must be peacemakers, especially when it seems we have become so callously bellicose, one result of which is the current flood of refugees into Europe from the Middle East, a region destroyed by wars waged by Western powers. Neither can we remain neutral about the growing economic inequality in which more and more wealth is concentrated in the hands of fewer and fewer people.

Our second reading from the Letter of St James sets forth the roots of wickedness, not just in the world, but even among ourselves, the followers of Christ. “Where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there is disorder and every foul practice” (Jas 3:16), James tells us. Last week we heard the Lord Himself lay down the conditions of discipleship, of following Him: “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me” (Mark 8:34). If you wish to save your life you must lose it for Jesus’ sake and the sake of the Gospel.

Jesus reiterates His call to selfless service in our Gospel today when, after the twelve tell Him what they had been arguing about on their way back to Capernaum, which was their home-base. What they had been arguing about was which of them, besides Jesus, was the greatest among them. By the mere fact they were having this argument it is clear that they didn’t yet understand who Jesus is. Clearly some, if not all, of the twelve were holding onto a mistaken idea of the Messiah, even after Jesus’ stern rebuke of St Peter in last week’s Gospel. In other words, what they expected was waiting for them in Jerusalem, to which they would start making their way after this stopover in Capernaum, were thrones and not the Cross.

The Cross is a difficult message, it is not the message of the purveyors of the false Gospel, propounded by people like Joel Osteen, which is so popular in our day that bids us follow Jesus and all will be well in this world, we will be healthy and wealthy. This is why it bears repeating what Jesus repeated to those who, after His resurrection, He would send as apostles to preach the Gospel and to build up His Church. We know He repeated it because in our Gospel today we hear that Jesus, after first telling them what was to happen to Him while on the road to Caesarea-Philippi, “was teaching his disciples and telling them, The Son of Man is to be handed over to men and they will kill him, and three days after his death the Son of Man will rise” (Mark 9:31). Often it seems that this is no big deal to us because we live on the other side of the resurrection, but it should be a big deal to us in light of Jesus telling us, as His followers, to take up our cross and sacrifice ourselves for Him.

Just as in the early centuries of the Church, today the martyrs show us what Jesus meant by taking up the cross, by losing our lives in order to save them, which is the central paradox of our Christian faith. This paradox is only resolved by Christ’s resurrection from the dead. Therefore, our take away for today comes from the Letter to the Hebrews:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us and persevere in running the race that lies before us while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith. For the sake of the joy that lay before him he endured the cross, despising its shame, and has taken his seat at the right of the throne of God (Heb 12:1-2)

Jesus beckons us to where He is, but the only way there is through the Cross.

"‘Cause right now I need a little hope"

"Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access [by faith] to this grace in which we stand, and we boast in hope of the glory of God" (Rom 5:1-2). I am feeling hopeful on this Friday, which is also a Fall Ember Day. Nonetheless, we live in a very lonely society, which is why, my brothers and sisters, we're called to community and to invite those who don't belong to belong.

This week's traditio will keep us in the realm of Contemporary Christian Music. It's Sidewalk Prophets with "Save My Life."

Tell me what I need to hear
Tell me that I’m not forgotten
Show me there’s a God
Who can be more than all I’ve ever wanted
‘Cause right now I need a little hope
I need to know that I’m not alone
Maybe God is calling you tonight
To tell me something
That might save my life

Holyrood Embering: Observing Holy Cross Ember Week

Tomorrow, Monday, 14 September, is the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, which makes this week an Ember Week. Historically Christians in the Western Church observe Ember Weeks by fasting and/or abstaining on Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. Days of fasting and/or abstinence only amount to a diet plan when not accompanied by more time spent in prayer and concrete acts of charity (i.e., selflessly doing things for other people). Observing Ember Days is no no longer obligatory for Roman Catholics. However, Ember Days were not abolished after the Second Vatican Council.

Ember days were uniformly set forth for the Roman Catholic Church at the Council of Clermont in AD 1095, the same council at which Pope Urban II called forth the First Crusade. As a result, there was a Latin mnemonic: Dant Crux, Lucia, Cineres, Charismata Dia/Ut sit in angariâ quarta sequens feria. From this we received the English mnemonic: "Fasting days and Emberings be Lent, Whitsun, Holyrood, and Lucie." "Holyrood" refers to the Feast of the Holy Cross, the occasion for making this week an Ember Week.

In addition to fasting and prayer, we are encouraged to celebrate the Sacrament of Penance during Ember weeks by going to confession. The General Instruction of the Roman Missal calls for bishops in various countries where the Church is present to set forth Ember Days and provide texts for their celebration.

Due to all the criticism, often exaggerated and unjust, of the Second Vatican Council when it comes to such matters, I firmly believe that what the Council Fathers and Bl Pope Paul VI, who was given the arduous task of the implementing the Council, were seeking was not to abolish these tried and true means of spiritual and ecclesial growth, but to promote spiritual maturity among the faithful not by laying heavy burdens on them, but issuing an invitation. It seems obvious to me that prayer and fasting are precisely what we need more of, along with a reduction in rancor.

I invite you to join me this week, not because you have to, or out of a guilt-ridden sense of obligation, which is foreign to Christianity, but because it is a great opportunity. I also invite you fast and pray for the upcoming Synod on the Family, which is my intention this week.

Bearing the Cross is love

Readings: Isa 50:5-9a; Ps 116:1-6.8-9; Jas 2:14-18; Mark 8:27-35

The readings for this week should be read over and over until your heart absorbs them. In our Gospel for this week Jesus teaches His disciples the central paradox of our Christian faith: "For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and that of the gospel will save it" (Mark 8:35).

Works born of faith amount to selfless service of others. The Cross reveals to us the way we should live. Christ's resurrection, of which He gives the disciples only the briefest hint in today's Gospel, shows us what it means to be saved. Of course, all will be resurrected. Our Lord Himself said, "Do not be amazed at this, because the hour is coming in which all who are in the tombs will hear his voice and will come out, those who have done good deeds to the resurrection of life, but those who have done wicked deeds to the resurrection of condemnation" (John 5:28-29).

The common objection to this line of reasoning usually consists in drawing the conclusion that Christianity, at its core, is selfish. This selfishness bids the believer to be good, not for goodness sake, but to receive a reward. I suppose in some instances this objection may be spot-on. But I contend that wanting to live forever is not selfish. It is our deepest longing. This longing is present in everyone, whether or not s/he is a Christian.

Living forever is the very purpose for which God made us and for which He redeemed us. Therefore, this desire is the spark of the divine image within every person and so our longing, at its deepest level, is love of God. It is the only thing that makes it possible for us to respond to God, which is why, in the end, it is all grace. It is this love that also constitutes our just love of self. It has been noted that to truly love another is to love his/her destiny. This principle is very important today with everything happening in our society.

All of this helps us to grasp Jesus' exhortation in today's Gospel as well as His summary of the law, a few chapters on in St Mark's Gospel: the two great commandments- "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these" (Mark 12:30-31). We were made from love in order to love. Hence, only those who truly love, who become selfless, will be saved. It is not too much to say that becoming selfless is salvation. Selflessness is certainly liberating.

French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre, in his play No Exit, which is about the afterlife, famously wrote, "Hell is other people." In the context of the play Sartre was referring to what he called "the Look," by which he meant something like the lifelong struggle of worrying about how other people see us. Indeed, this can be hell, which is why people who aren't hung up worrying about this are happier than those who do. Because in the end it is all about love, you need not fear how others will see you because they will love you as they love themselves and you will love them as you love yourself. It seems to me that the cause of our deepest insecurity is worrying that if people knew us we knew ourselves, they wouldn't like us and may even loathe us. Just as we want to be known and loved we must recognize that this what other people want too. But this is where the Cross comes in, where things like not just forgiving, but loving your enemies comes into play.

The words of Isaiah's Suffering Servant are really the culmination God's word for us today: "The Lord GOD is my help, therefore I am not disgraced; Therefore I have set my face like flint, knowing that I shall not be put to shame. He who declares my innocence is near. Who will oppose me?" (Isa 50:7-8a).