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Friday, February 28, 2025

"...take the humanity back into the center of the ring"

It's Friday. I am supposed to be in love or something like that. Actually, the idea of falling in love at this stage of my life isn't very appealing. At no point in my life was that something for which I was particularly well-suited. Let's face it, when it comes that, I am probably one of those people you're best steering clear of.

I spend a lot of time these daze worrying about the state of our humanity. It seems that we're not letting it slip away as much as we are just giving it away. It's almost as if our humanity is worth less than the artificial reality we can create or hope to create. It seems to me that we're not even getting a bowl of whatever it was Esau received from Jacob for our birthright.

It stands to reason that the creator is greater than its creation. Increasingly, reason has little or nothing to do with it. There are two axioms we seem to have to adopted. First, might makes right. Second, when it comes to technology, if it can be done it should be done. I'll add a third, we seem pretty at ease with the ends justifying the means. Many of the ends we are seeking don't strike my as particularly good ones (see axioms one and two).

I am a pessimist. Overly optimistic people bother me. Yes, this if often a matter for the confessional. This week in a thread on Blue Sky, I generated about as much social media buzz as I ever generate (which doesn't amount to much) by posting this:

In my teaching and preaching I make a hard and fast distinction between optimism and hope. They are not the same by an imperial mile. Hope is what remains when optimism fades

Karl Rahner's essay on Christian pessimism is good on this but pessimism, at least from my perspective, does not lead to optimism. But is doesn't necessarily lead to despair- though I do despair sometimes, more than I will ever publicly write about.

I am not sure one can have genuine hope, the theological virtue of hope, without pessimism. I think of optimism as believing things will either work out the way I want them to (something that in my case virtually never happens- sometimes for the better but sometimes not) or at least working out in my favor. Hope, by contrast, lies in total abandonment to God.

Even so, how often do we trivialize the Lord's prayer "Thy will be done"? How often do Saint Paul's words blithely tumble from our lips: "I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and constraints, for the sake of Christ; for when I am weak, then I am strong"? (2 Cor 12:9b-10 is the reading for Morning Prayer today- Friday, Week III of the Psalter). For a Christian, at least in worldly terms, losing is winning.

God's will is often, I would say usually inscrutable, at least it is to me. Of course, one needs to separate the "what" from the "why." Is everything that happens God's will and our "job" is just to deal with it? Another question, one taken up well in Woody Allen's 1989 movie Crimes and Misdemeanors as well as in the Psalms, is why do the wicked prosper? See Psalm 73. Yes, optimist, there are wicked people.

The hardest thing to teach children in catechesis is not to treat others as you want to be treated. Rather, it's to gently help them over the usually automatic assumption that if you treat people the way you want to be treated that they will always respond in kind. They won't, yet to follow Jesus is to persist anyway. Too often as Christians we talk of triumph at the expense of discusssing the this-worldly futility of living what Jesus teaches.

We know from scripture that Jesus did not want to be stripped, beaten, mocked, and crucified. Who would? Nonetheless, He abandoned Himself to the will of the Father, which meant putting Himself at the mercy of human authority, which is almost always merciless, even when, maybe especially when, claiming the name of Christ. Christian integralism is the equivalent of a rounded square.

Think of the absurdity of capital punishment in a "Christian" society. For that matter, even the whole of concept of retributive justice in a Christian society (see David Bentley Hart's "Further Reflections on Capital Punishment (and on Edward Feser)". Sticking with Rahner and taking some his thinking its logical limits, perhaps the whole concept of a Christian society this side of the eschaton is an abusrdity. I ran across this by Justin Steckbauer, written several years ago: "'To be Christian, is to be Truly Human' Karl Rahner’s Thoughts on a Darker Christian Realism.'

Anyway, all of the above is to be far more honest than I usually am here. It's amazing that we're closing out the second month of 2025.

I could go on in this vein, but I won't because, well, I want to end with a little hope. While I was tempted to post The Smith's song "Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want" as our Friday traditio, I am going with a video, made to honor him after his death, of Joe Strummer singing Bob Marley's "Redemption Song." I have used this before.

Apart from loving The Clash and Strummer's post-Clash band The Mescaleros, I am choosing this for Joes' voiceover at the beginning. I think Bob would endorse that message.

Sunday, February 23, 2025

Does forgiveness forego justice?

Readings: 1 Sam 26:2, 7-9, 12-13, 22-23 Ps 101:1-4.8.10.12-13; 1 Cor 15:45-49; Luke 6:27-38

When we encounter such challenging teachings it is very important, on the one hand, not to just explain them away, reducing them nothing, thus failing to be challenged when it comes Lord's most difficult teachings. On the other, it is important to try understanding how this might apply under certain circumstances.

Unlike other some other passages, like saying pluck out your eye, cut-off off your hand, etc., Jesus in today's Gospel is not speaking hyperbole. He talking directly "To you who hear," that is, to anyone interested in following Him. Especially during His Passion, He taught this by His example.

Loving one's enemy should be a hallmark of being a Christian. Without forgiveness, the world is a dark, brutal, and violent place. Hate and resentment are evils a Christian must avoid at all cost. Christians intentionally do not live by the lex talionis, which demands an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. While we may at times understandably and even sometimes justifiably get mad, seeking revenge by trying get even is not a Christian value. Rather, we strive, we struggle to live by what Jesus taught so explicitly in passages like today's Gospel.

Loving your enemy requires to do good to him/her. Loving your enemy requires you to pray for her/him. What is an enemy? An enemy is someone who "has it out for you," someone who actively seeks to harm, oppress, and/or harass you. Saul was David's enemy. He hated David so badly that he lauched a military campaign to wipe out David and his small band of men.

Why did Saul want to kill David? Because he saw David as his rival for power. As history shows, tyrants hate rivals and critics and so seek to eliminate anyone who poses a challenge. The most permanent way is by killing them. Yet, when David had the chance to easily kill his enemy, who was waging mortal combat against him, he did not take it. Rather, trusting in God, David chose to spare Saul's life, which he held in his hand.

For a Christian, loving your enemies is one of those things that should set you apart, make you stand out. It is what makes you salt and light for the world.

This brings up an important question: Are we to suffer injustice passively? Are we to ignore and not intervene or come to the defense or assistance of someone who is being treated unjustly? In the first instance, as with so many things, it depends. The lives of saints are rife with episodes of holy women and men enduring injustices and relying solely on God for vindication. Of course, due to the fact they're canonized saints, they were vindicated, even if, as in some cases, posthumously. When comes to myself, I need to be discerning.

the late Congressman John Lewis

I would say, even on Christian terms, injustice, especially towards the weak and vulnerable, should be challenged and resisted. Non-violent resistance is, at least for me, the most courageous form of resistance. Many people in the United States in the 1960s, like the late Congressman John Lewis, a founding member of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, set a beautiful example for later generations. Led by Dr. King, at its roots and to its very core, the Civil Rights movement was a Christian movement. So as not sound too triumphalist, one of the hallmarks of it being a Christian movement was that you didn't have to be a Christian to join in!

To be effective, resistance to injustice needs to be creative. It can be direct or indirect.

Often we want to fight fire with fire, to meet force with force. It usually takes a lot more courage, like the man in Tiananmen Square who stood in front of a tank, than attempting blow-for-blow confrontation. Through such actions, one uses one's humanity to appeal directly to the humanity of the other. The risk, of course, is that the one being appealed to may not respond in a human, let alone humane, way. As Christians, this is something we should understand deeply. Because the one engaging in this kind of direct resistance is willing to lay down his life for what is right on behalf of other people, it is an act of love, an imitatio Christi.

One of John Lewis' frequent refrains was, when faced with injustice, "never give up, never give in, never become bitter or hostile." He lived in the certainty that love, his love, would outlast the fear and anger of his enemies. He learned this through experience, by practicing it sometimes under life-threatening circumstances. Another beautiful thing John Lewis would say to younger generations as he grew older was, "make some noise and get in good trouble." Even so, he would also warn them never to hate, only to love, to do good, and, yes, to pray for those opposed to you, pray they will have a change of heart.

Friday, February 21, 2025

"One headline why believe it?"

So many thoughts, so many threads, so much going on. I am glad I returned to blogging because I can't take the pace of other social media platforms these daze. What is happening is nothing short of a media blitzkrieg. This is deliberate and done in the service of a far from transparent agenda.

Claims, counterclaims, counter-counterclaims, and so it goes into an infinite regress. "The common good" is just a phrase invoked on occasion. It seems to me that little is done in service of our common good.

Taken from Together for the Common Good, a U.K. Charity

What is the common good? The common good is that which seeks to enable and facilitate the flourishing of everyone. As such it is opposed to some socially Darwinistic society of winners and losers. The common good is the opposite of narrow and self-serving. It is the genuine ordo amoris as opposed to a narrow conception of this concept, which urges one to narrow rather than expand what might be called one's circle of concern. Especially if you're someone who's relatively well-off and comfortable, seeking the common good requires you look beyond your own interests and take account of the interests of those less well-off, especially those who are uncomfortable and struggling.

A few days ago, I listened to an episode of The Russell Moore Show featuring Robert Putnam ("Beyond Bowling Alone: Finding Community in an Isolated Age"). This is a vital conversation. Polarization has become the very nature of our politics. It is eating away at society and eroding our civilization.

Politics don't seem to any longer be about achieving ends that will enable flourishing. The means used to achieve desired ends, even when those ends aren't bad in and of themselves, seem to me aimed at creating further polarization, at winning and making losers. According to Putnam, whose body of work is worth enaging with, the answer is to connect with others and not primarily (or even secondarily) for political purposes. You may want to watch a recent film about Putnam, now showing on Netflix: Join or Die.

I love the old slogan of The Christopers: "It's better to light a candle than curse the darkness." While it is certainly better to light a candle, it is often easier and I would say sometimes necessary, to curse the darkness. But then, I don't want to promote the very thing I am arguing against. I was reminded this morning of a passage from the second chapter of Ephesians, the summary of which is verse 14:

For he [Jesus Christ] is our peace, he who made both one and broke down the dividing wall of enmity, through his flesh

I also want to point to something from Pope Francis' his recent letter to the U.S. Bishops, g that has been overlooked and that applies more broadly than to immigration. Found in section 7 of his letter, the Holy Father warns about the imposition of "the will of the strongest as the criterion of truth." Introducing the will of the strongest as the criterion of truth obliterates any authentic conception of the ordo amoris and, hence, the common good. It's hard to think of anything less Christian.

Please join me in praying for Pope Francis, who remains in hospital. He's battling pneumonia and a respiratory infection. When it comes to matters of the common good, to abiding by a proper conception of the ordo amoris, one rooted directly in the teachings of our Lord Jesus Christ, I believe we need his witness right now.

While it certainly lacks subtlety, our Friday traditio, sticking with my distinctly '80s vibe during this early part of 2025, our traditio is Tears for Fears, "Everybody Wants to Rule the World."

Sunday, February 16, 2025

Year C Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Jeremiah 17:5-8; Psalm 1:1-4.6; 1 Corinthians 15:12.16-20; Luke 6:17.20-26

When giving blessings, priests and deacons often begin by quoting Psalm 124: “Our help is in the name of the Lord.” To which the one(s) receiving the blessing, along with everyone else present, responds with, “Who made heaven and earth.”¹ More than a throwaway line, this is meant to acknowledge God’s goodness and power before conveying His blessing.

This is a gentler way of saying what the prophet Jeremiah, says in our first reading, when he insists that the person who puts his trust human beings is cursed while calling blessed the one who puts her trust in God. It is so easy to get caught up in human affairs that the Kingdom of God, which Jesus came to inaugurate and will return to fully establish, becomes something of an abstract idea instead of the concrete reality it should be for Christians. Our mission is to make the Kingdom present in the here and now even as we wait in joyful hope for Christ's return.

Our Gospel today, taking its name from the part of the passage that tells us Jesus “stood on a stretch of level ground,” is Luke’s Sermon on the Plain.² Quite obviously, this is a parallel passage to Saint Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount. Not only is the ground more level, what Jesus teaches in Luke is a bit more plain.

There is no way to get around the difficulty of either our reading from Jeremiah or our Gospel. God’s kingdom as taught by Jesus seems like something of a bizarro world to us, that is a backwards world, the world turned upside down. Blessedness, according to Jesus, has nothing to do with worldly success. Rather, worldly success often endangers blessedness.

Who were the false prophets to whom Jesus referred? These were the ones who were the opposite of Jeremiah and the true prophets. False prophets told the people and those in power what they wanted to hear, not what they needed to hear. “All is well,” they said, while insisting nothing needed to change, embracing the status quo.

Jeremiah in the Sistine Chapel, by Michelangelo. Yorck Project, 2002. Public domain Wikipedia Commons.

Prophets called Israel back to fidelity to its covenant with God. As you might imagine, this often did not go down well. Jeremiah, born into a priestly family, was called by God to his prophetic ministry at a young age. His prophetic career spanned five decades. Over the course of that time, he was repeatedly persecuted.

Jeremiah’s prophetic message centered around calling out Israel’s idolatry, social injustices, and moral decay. It was part and parcel of the message of every true prophet to stand up for the poor and powerless to the rich and powerful. Jeremiah learned from a young age to trust in God, not in man. He learned this through many trials.

Members of Jeremiah’s family tried to kill him because he prophesied against idolatrous shrines. When he complained to God, the Lord told him, "Don't worry, it will get worse." As a result of resistance to his message and persecution, more than once, Jeremiah threatened to quit being a prophet. He was also beaten, imprisoned, and put in the stockade. Finally, Jeremiah was exiled to Egypt against his own will, where he likely spent the rest of his life.

Jesus himself was arrested, subjected to a sham trial, stripped, beaten, and crucified. In other words, being the prophet par excellence, Jesus experienced the treatment of a prophet, of one who challenged human power not only in the name of God but as true God from true God. His message is consistent with that of the Old Testament prophets, both major and minor, who challenged the status quo and the misplaced priorities of religious and political leaders.

What is the takeaway for us from all this? As Christians, we serve the poor and dispossessed and are committed to helping end their destitution. We feed the hungry, which is one of the corporal works of mercy. We both suffer with (that is what the word compassion means) and comfort those who weep, those who are scared, suffering, distraught.

While, according to Jesus, being despised on account of God’s Kingdom is a cause for rejoicing, if we read a bit further on in the same chapter of Luke, several verses beyond our Gospel passage, Jesus nonetheless teaches: “love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.”³

We’ve heard a lot bit lately about the so-called ordo amoris, the order of love, which is set forth by Saint Augustine.⁴ In his recent letter to the U.S. bishops, rather than getting bogged down in a precise interpretation of an extra-biblical theological concept, Pope Francis insisted: “The true ordo amoris that must be promoted is that which we discover by meditating constantly on the parable of the ‘Good Samaritan,’ which is also found in Luke, “that is,” the Holy Father continues, “by meditating on the love that builds a fraternity open to all, without exception.”⁵

In a world torn by strife and rife with human division, this remains a prophetic message. The Parable of the Good Samaritan is a masterclass in love of neighbor. The man beaten, robbed, and left for dead is presumably a devout Jew, though this is not made explicit. It is safe to say that Jews despised Samaritans more than Samaritans despised Jews. Yet, Jesus made a Samaritan, who he sets in opposition to very devout Jews, perhaps only concerned with their own ritual purity, who cross the road to avoid the man beaten bloody, the protagonist.

Jesus taught this parable in answer to the question, “Who is my neighbor?” He ends this teaching by saying, “Go and do likewise," saying in effect, “Go and do like this Samaritan.” I think it's hard for us to imagine how humbling, perhaps even humiliating, this would sound to Jesus’ interlocutors. Hence, meditating deeply on this parable is precisely what will guide you to a rightly ordered love of neighbor, which, in the end, according to Jesus, is what truly matters.

1 Psalm 124:8.^↩
2 Luke 6:17.^↩
3 Luke 6:27-28.^↩
4 Saint Augustine. City of God, Book XV, 22.^↩
5 See Luke 10:25-37; Letter of the Holy Father Francis to the Bishops of the United States of America, sec. 6.^↩

Saturday, February 15, 2025

Addendum on agape

My post for yesterday was longer than intended. In thinking a bit more about agape (i.e., self-giving, self-sacrificing, kenotic love- Christlike love), which for Christians is the supreme form of love, I offer a few more thoughts.

Probably the closest human analogy to divine agape is the love of a parent for her/his child. More specifically, the love of a mother for her child. In lamenting over the inhabitants of the Holy City, Jerusalem, in Matthew, Jesus says- "how many times I yearned to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her young under her wings" (Matthew 23:37). Or, God speaking to Israel through the prophet in Isaiah: "Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you" (Isaiah 49:15).

This brings me back to 1 John 4:7-16, the passage in which the phrase "God is love" appears twice. The conclusion of this is: "Beloved, if God so loved us, we also must love one another" (1 John 4:11). It is through the love of God given us in Christ, which is poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, that we become children of God (see Romans 5:5).

As God's children, we are sisters and brothers. For Christians, in light of our baptism, water is thicker than blood. As the Holy Father notes in section 7 of his letter to the U.S. bishops, it is certainly thicker than and even transcends other identifications and affiliations we may have.

Love that is agape is profuse, abundant, copious, extravagant, freely given. It is outwardly not inwardly directed. At the beginning of the Kenotic hymn found in the second chapter of Philippians, Saint Paul urges Christians - "Have among yourselves the same attitude that is also yours in Christ Jesus" (see Phil 2:5-11).

Hence, God's love is not something to be held onto merely for my own sake. Rather, as Jesus gave Himself freely, I am to give myself freely.

This post was originally longer. However, it was quite repetitive of the post for which is was written as an addendum. So, I stuck with brief a amplification of the meaning of agape.

Friday, February 14, 2025

Orders of love and the order of love

Saint Valentine's Day remains a big day in the United States. This, despite the fact that on the Roman Catholic liturgical calendar 14 February is the Memorial of Saints Cyril and Methodius. Especially on Valentine's Day love is reduced to romance and romance to sex. On social media leading up to today, I have seen a huge number of memes that issue warnings like- "In 9 months you can be fishing with your friends or home changing diapers. Choose wisely this Valentine's Day." While I appreciate, on the one hand, the connection between and procreation so often lacking today and even, on some level, the humor, this helps prove my assertion.

Even the perfectly good Greek word eros becomes the adjective "erotic" and erotic becomes synonymous with sex, despite having an original meaning that goes beyond mere physical pleasure. As I write, the title of a Walker Percy novel occurs to me: Love in the Ruins.

Additionally, Valentine's day, like all other such days, become an occasion to spend money. For this day, money is dropped on chocolates, flowers, jewelry, lavish meals, and so-called "intimate apparel." Ads frequently consist of some variation of "show how much you love her by buying..." This despite the fact that Saint Valentine was a martyr. These days don't seem to require a rationale. Most people know little and care even less about some remote figure named Valentine. The same goes for the person in whose honor the next like-minded holiday is named after: Saint Patrick.

Did you know Saint Valentine is also the patron saint for people afflicted with epilepsy, and of beekeepers?

Saint Valentine relic in the church of Santa Maria in Cosmedin, Rome, photo by Dnalor 01 - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0.

As long-time readers know, I feel much the same way about the secular Christmas season that run parallel with the liturgical season of Advent and seeks to do away with the actual season of Christmas. This has nothing to do with me being opposed to enjoyment, fun, or celebration. I am in favor of all three. It just think when the roots of what is celebrated are lost, the metaphorical tree slowly dies. This dying has a profound impact on culture and, through culture, on society.

In the Song of Songs we read "love is as strong as death" (8:6). In and through Jesus Christ, love conquered death. This conquest shows that love is not merely as strong as death but that love is stronger than death. For a Christian, like Saint Valentine, this is everything!

In John 15:15 Jesus calls his disciples (there are not apostles in John's Gospel) philous, that is, friends. With eros, philia is another Greek word for love. Philia is friendship. For Aristotle, friendship was love's highest form. Elsewhere in the Johannine corpus, however, we read twice in the space of eight verses that "God is love" (see 1 John 4:8-16). Agape is the Greek word for love in this passage.

Agape refers to self-giving, self-sacrificing, self-emptying (kenotic) love. For Christians, therefore, agape is the highest form of love. It is important to note that "God is love" is not logically reversible. The inverse property of multiplication, which holds that 5x4=20 and 4x5=20, doesn't apply. Love is not God. God is love.

Agape does not obliterate or conquer eros and/or philia. Rather, agape enfolds them and deepens them. Dare I say agape "sanctifies" the other forms of love? When considered in a Christian way, because it is a sacramental sign of Christ's love for His Bride, the Church (errant spouse she may sometimes be), Christian marriages should show this. After all, sacraments are visible and tangible signs of Christ's presence in and for the world, n'est ce pas?

Any saint's day or, as with today, any saints' day, is a celebration of the God who is love and of the friendship we have with God through Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit. Understanding God as a Trinity of divine persons implies God is love. What is the Holy Spirit if not the love between the Father and the Son personified? This, in a nutshell, is why I am an unabashed double processionist. To be baptized is to be immersed, plunged, into the life of God.

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Since love is today's theme, it is fitting to mention the recently revived ordo amoris. I have been more than a little bemused reading several criticisms of the Holy Father's letter to the U.S. bishops with regard to his treatment of the ordo amoris. The ordo amoris was brought into recent public discourse by the Vice President. He seems to have invoked is as a justification for a lot what the present administration is doing (or seeking to no longer do) with regard to immigration and foreign aid. In any case, these criticisms were basically how the Pontiff got Saint Augustine's theology wrong.

In his letter, I don't think Pope was attempting a precise theological exposition of Saint Augustine's ordo amoris. To me, he seems to attempt something of a corrective to it, at least to a lazy use of it in a political and self-justifying way. His corrective is an appeal directly to the teaching of Jesus Christ to whom, apart perhaps from the just love of self (which is maybe the cornerstone of the ordo amoris properly understood), as in "love your neighbor as yourself," such a construct would be foreign.

Specifically, the Holy Father points to the parable of the Good Samaritan, which was told in response to the question "Who is my neighbor?" He noted:

The true ordo amoris that must be promoted is that which we discover by meditating constantly on the parable of the "Good Samaritan" (cf. Lk 10:25-37), that is, by meditating on the love that builds a fraternity open to all, without exception" (Letter of the Holy Father to the Bishops of the United States of America, sec. 6)

Without a doubt, what Jesus teaches is hard to live, which is why a lot of theological effort is put into explaining it away, reducing His teaching to nothing but our own status quo in which conversion is neither desired nor needed. It is of this essence of Christianity to overcome an us-vs-them view of things.

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Loving is difficult for many reasons, not least among which is that it requires understanding. It certainly requires understanding who is my neighbor. As the same passage from 1 John, cited above, notes, we can love because we have first been loved. Hence, I am to love in the same way Christ loves me. The love of Christ is an experience, the result of an encounter (see the first section of Pope Benedict XVI's first encylical letter, Deus caritas est, which letter also contains a wonderful exposition on eros, philia, and agape).

Our Friday traditio is HoJo asking "What Is Love?"

Monday, February 10, 2025

Memorial of Saint Scholastica, Virgin

Option to use readings for the Monday of the Fifth Week in Ordinary Time
Readings: Genesis 1:1-19; Psalm 104:1-2.5-6.10.12.24.35; Mark 6:53-56

Whenever I read the first creation account from Genesis 1, I am struck by two things. First, I am struck by the beauty of the poetry, which translates well into English. Given that, even as a Catholic, albeit a convert who grew up reading it exclusively, I think the King James Version brings this out best.

Secondly, I am struck by the evolutionary structure of this poem about creation. In it we hear of life evolving from its simplest to its most complex form, culminating in the creation of human beings, an event that happens beyond the end of our first reading.

The second creation account, which begins with the fourth verse of Genesis 2, is more primitive. According to “the Documentary Hypothesis” widely accepted by Old Testament scholars, the first five books of the Bible, that Christians call the Pentateuch, are a synthesis or, in more scholarly language, a redaction, of four distinct sources. This redaction, scholars posit, was likely carried out during reigns of David and Solomon around BC 1000.

The four sources are designated J, P, E, & D. These are the first letters of Jahwist, Priestly, Elohist, and Deuteronomic respectively. According to this hypothesis, the first creation narrative is P and the second is J. Given the stark contrast between the two, J would be the most opposite of P.

I think the poetry and precision of P account, the latter resulting in its evolutionary structure, give us some hint as to how faith and reason work together. Poetry represents beauty and evolutionary structure truth. Therefore, we have two of the three transcendentals: truth and beauty. Along with the good, the three transcendentals, while distinct, are inseparable and overlap in various ways.

In his seminal book, The Religious Sense, the Servant of God, Msgr. Luigi Giussani sought to show that

the nature of reason expresses itself in the ultimate need for truth, goodness, and beauty. These needs constitute the fabric of the religious sense, which is evident in every human being everywhere and in all times. So strong is this sense that it leads one to desire that the answer to life's mystery might reveal itself in some way (The Religious Sense, i)

Later in this book, Giussani notes that the human being is the point at which nature becomes conscious of itself (The Religious Sense, 25).

If human being is the point at which nature realizes itself, then Jesus Christ is the One in and through whom the human being realizes herself. As the Second Vatican Council’s Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World states it:

The truth is that only in the mystery of the incarnate Word does the mystery of man take on light. For Adam, the first man, was a figure of Him Who was to come, namely Christ the Lord. Christ, the final Adam, by the revelation of the mystery of the Father and His love, fully reveals man to man himself and makes his supreme calling clear (sec. 22)

In our Gospel, as Jesus and His disciples cross the Sea of Galilee, tying up at Gennesaret, we read that the people there “immediately recognized [Jesus]” (Mark 6:54). Their recognition caused them to bring all their sick to be healed by Him. Being healed certainly makes you feel more yourself.

While I don’t want to dismiss or dispute the reality of Jesus’ physical healings as set forth in this passage from Mark, I think it’s important to have some insight into their meaning, especially because those healed would still die someday. The meaning, I believe, is found in Mark 2, in the pericope of Jesus healing the paralyzed man.

Seeing the long line of people outside the house in which Jesus was performing physical healings, the man’s friends went up on the roof of the house. They somehow got the paralyzed man, who was on a stretcher, on the roof with them. They then lowered him down through the roof until he was right in front of Jesus.

Seeing the man, Jesus’ first words to him were “Child, your sins are forgiven.” Without a doubt, this caused dismay not only among the murmuring scribes, but the man and his friends. There was no empirical sign that anything was different. Knowing their thoughts, Jesus rebuked them. He then asked, “Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Rise, pick up your mat and walk’?” He continued, “’But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority to forgive sins on earth’— he said to the paralytic, ‘I say to you, rise, pick up your mat, and go home.’” At which point, the man does just that (See Mark 2:1-12).

Jesus Christ doesn’t only reveal man to himself, He seeks to renew and restore, to revitalize, you by making you truly yourself- who God made and redeems you to be. In so doing, He renews nature by His goodness, restoring its truth and beauty as set forth in Genesis.

Saint Scholastica, who we venerate today, was the sister of Saint Benedict. Like him, she was a monastic. Cenobitic, or community-based, monasticism, of which Benedict and Scholastica are held to be the founders, is an intense way to live a fully human life, a Christlike life. Like Christ’s life, monastic life is eschatological, meaning it points beyond itself to the full realization of God’s kingdom. You, too, need to seek to be like Christ and to make Him present wherever you are. For where He is, there is the Kingdom, which is nature perfected by grace.