Father: Mr. Fox, I want to thank you for agreeing to this interview. It's quite a coup for my insigificant blog.
Actor: Well, you said we were cousins!
Father: I didn't do that!
Actor: I know; I'm just kidding.
Father: Mr. Fox, obviously we're going to discuss your recent foray into electoral politics. And I want to say I think the attention given to whether you've taken your medicine, or how you might move about--I think these are distasteful. And, if you don't mind me saying so, a little dopey, because isn't what you actually said in your recent ads and appearances what we should talk about?
Actor: No, I agree.
Father: That's fair game isn't it? You have a position--and there's nothing wrong with you advocating it--but your position is part of the debate, that's fair game to respond to, to criticize?
Actor: Sure, absolutely.
Father: We're talking about research, involving stem-cells. You've said they hold a lot of promise.
Actor: That's right. Some very exciting things are happening, and as I said, millions of people care very deeply about the promise of this research. A lot of lives could be changed for the better.
Father: True. Now, to explicate this subject, let me offer this description, and you say if you think it's fair. There are many ways to characterize this stem-cell research, but you can divide it into the following two categories: one set of means of research that involves no significant moral and ethical controversy, and another, that does.
Actor: That's true.
Father: You have stem-cells from adults, from unbilical-cord blood, that--as far as I know--no one has said its immoral, or ethically troubling. That research is happening now, and it receives tax funding.
Actor: That's right.
Father: And you're for that research?
Actor: Absolutely.
Father: Now, you are well aware of the other aspect of this: that much of the research involves deriving stem-cells from human embryos. And in deriving those cells, the embryo is destroyed.
Actor: Yes, but they would have been destroyed anyway.
Father: I'm not trying to put you on the spot--I'm just trying to be explicit about why this is a controversial issue for anyone. You understand it's because there's a human embryo involved, that's why anyone has a problem with this.
Actor: Yes, I realize that. But that's a moral viewpoint, and I respect it, but we need to see where science will take us.
Father: OK, but you do acknowledge these two categories of this research--that which involves no significant moral questions, and that which does?
Actor: No, that's fair to say.
Father: Because, in your ads, you didn't make that distinction.
Actor: Well, things like that are going to be summary.
Father: But do you think this is a significant aspect of the question?
Actor: I think we need to pursue the research, without being held back. Jim Talent would have made a large measure of the research illegal.
Father: As would I.
Actor: There you go.
Father: You understand why?
Actor: I realize it's part of your church teaching. No disrespect, but it's a religious viewpoint, and I respect that, but I think we should pursue this on the basis of science.
Father: This may surprise you, but I agree with you to a large extent. Not entirely, but maybe more than you know. Neither of us is an expert in biology or genetics and so forth--let's concede that--
Actor: True.
Father: --but it happens to be a fact of science that when a sperm and an egg come together, what results is a new life. Not part of either parent. This isn't religion--it's science. So an embryo is not part of someone's body; it's a new life. And by definition, a human embryo is a new human life.
Actor: But we're not talking about a baby, or a full grown human being--not even a set of cells, but a single cell!
Father: I understand that. That's how all of us started life.
Actor: The religious part--I shouldn't try to talk to a priest about religion, but oh well!--but the religious part is when you say that one cell is the same as a full grown person.
Father: That's true. But may I subsitute for "religious," "moral"?
Actor: But it is religious dogma, isn't it? Is for you?
Father: Certainly. My point is that many agree with me about this without sharing my religious dogma. Jews and Muslims and those who don't believe in God, who nonetheless agree with me about the value of that human embryo, clearly can't be said to do so on the basis of my religious beliefs, can they?
Actor: No, but they do it on their own religion.
Father: Not atheists. Do you claim all athiests agree with you? For that matter, are you really saying that this is a matter where God-believers are on one side, vs. all athiests on the other? I don't know your beliefs, and I make no assumptions about them in any way...
Actor: No, no, I don't mean that.
Father: I didn't think you did. What I'm saying is, you can't say it's simply "religious" when you have religious people on both sides; and also, non-religious people on both sides.
Actor: OK, so what do you call it?
Father: As I said, I'd call it a moral viewpoint.
Actor: Are you saying those who disagree with you are immoral?
Father: No, not at all. I'm saying, the difference reflects a different moral calculus.
Actor: All right, but then it's just semantic--I'd still say, we shouldn't bring morality into it.
Father: Now, let's think about that, okay? You don't really mean that.
Actor: Sure I do. People are entitled to their own moral values, but we're a pluralistic society.
Father: Right. And in various ways, we make collective judgments about what's good or bad for our society as a whole. That's what we're going to do in a few days--the election.
Actor: But what I'm saying is that morality shouldn't be forced into this, because it's holding back where we need to go.
Father: But you, yourself, are making an argument from morality -- don't you see that?
Actor: How so? I'm arguing for science, that's all.
Father: Well, I'm not obtuse, but let's take this apart and look closely at the question. Why is it important even to do this research? In your words.
Actor: Because it could save lives!
Father: Right, exactly. Now, here's the question: why is that important?
Actor: I don't understand. Surely you of all people want to save lives.
Father: Yes, certainly. I think we all do. My point is, that's a moral impulse. Or are you advocating saving lives purely as a matter of some scientific advantage? What's your reason for wanting to save lives?
Actor: All right, I think I see your point. But the thing is, that's something we all agree on.
Father: Granted. We all agree on saving lives.
Actor: But we don't all agree on an embryo being human--
Father: Pardon me, but can we say, "we don't agree on the value placed on the embryo, in relation to other human lives"? Because, I have to say, that an embryo is human is scientifically not in dispute.
Actor: Well, that seems like you're quibbling over terminology.
Father: Maybe; but maybe the reason it matters is precisely because merely calling an embryo "human"--carries a moral connotation with it? See what I mean? Language expresses moral values; so depending on our moral values, we prefer or avoid certain words.
Actor: And, as I said, we should leave the morality out of it.
Father: Yes, but it seems to me we can't; especially if our very language, which we use to talk to each other, has morality imbedded in it. What I'm saying is, all of us--you, me, the candidates you are endorsing or opposing--all bring moral values to this question. To put it very simply, we are all trying "to do the right thing." Isn't that true?
Actor: Well...
Father: Well--I think you are. I don't believe you are acting out of hateful or evil purpose. You want to save lives. Senator Talent--do you deny he wants to do the right thing?
Actor: Well, as he sees it.
Father: As he sees it. And you, as you see it. And me, et cetera. All of us are bringing our own moral values to this question. You can't take the morality out of it. I'd argue if you took the morality out of it completely, I'm not sure what reason there would be for pursuing this research at all.
Actor: Why do you say that?
Father: Well, this is going to sound shocking, I understand: but if we completely removed all moral impulses from this, I'm not sure we'd even care that people died of diseases. We wouldn't even feel bad about it. I'm not sure what we'd say, but perhaps something like, that's natural selection at work. Or, that's what happens. What would be our motive to save the lives of people facing so many diseases, if not the moral impulse that--because they are our fellow humans, we ought to save them?
Actor: I don't know anyone who thinks that way.
Father: Neither do I; or, at least, I hope I don't. But I think you'd be hard-pressed to argue this value-judgment we make about caring for one another as a matter of "science." What's "scientific" about it?
Actor: Aren't we better off, as a human family, if we defeat these diseases? Wouldn't it be good economically? I guess we could even talk about creating jobs...
Father: We might well be. I think so, personally, yes; but I am not claiming I necessarily can prove that, empirically. But I think I detected some distaste on your part, in offering that, particular argument just now. Am I wrong.
Actor: No; to be honest, I think this is a very strange way to talk about this issue--it's so...bloodless and cold.
Father: I totally agree. But I think you're making my point. Look: when have you, or anyone who feels as you do about this, made the argument in terms of Gross National Product, or jobs, or some, concrete measure? The argument you're making isn't of that sort. Rather, you're for this because it's the right thing to do.
Actor: Because it saves lives!
Father: Right--but because...it's the right thing to do. Not jobs; not some concrete, this-world material-value. None of that enters in. Because you're making a moral argument: we should save more lives.
Actor: All right; so what?
Father: So--don't both sides get to make a moral argument? When you say, to your opponents, don't drag morality into it, that's disingenuous, because--as we've seen--you've dragged your morality into it. In fact, you've dragged everyones morality into it: you appeal to a moral impulse we all share.
Actor: I don't see what's wrong with that.
Father: I don't see anything wrong with it. My point is, your opponents are allowed to do that, as well. My criticism of your ad--of the position you advocate there--is that you didn't seem to concede that your opponents also have a valid, moral point to make.
Actor: I don't see that that is my job. That's their job in their ads.
Father: Okay, but--do you think Mr. Talent wants you to die?
Actor: No. I didn't say he did.
Father: No, you didn't. But when I saw your ad--which was very compelling--I thought, "will anyone wonder just why Jim Talent wanted to "criminalize" "research"? We've been talking about "research" for I don't know how many years in this country, for I don't know how many serious problems--when I was kid, the Muscular Dystrophy telethon seemed to be a major thing, and I helped a little with it one year. I can't remember there ever being any question of "criminalizing" any of that research. It never came up.
Actor: Right. And it shouldn't come up here.
Father: But my point is, the very fact anyone even brings it up ought to be a red flag--I mean, unless you're going to accuse the Jim Talents and Martin Foxes and everyone else--and there are millions of us, we're not just a few cranks (maybe cranks but not a few!)
Actor: Laughing. You said it, I didn't!
Father: I did. My point--are you simply going to dismiss all of us who oppose you on this as people with nothing valid to say? That we are, what--morally obtuse?
Actor: No, not at all.
Father: All right then--so my point: that in most cases, most of the time, no one gets concerned about research being problematic. Then along comes this particular question--and now we do have significant numbers of people with very strong concerns. Something is very different here. It's not just another form of research. Regardless of who really is right on this question--it's not simply just another form of research.
Actor: Pause. Is there something you wanted me to say to that?
Father: I guess...I wanted either you to say you agree or disagree.
Actor: I agree, of course. I think it's kind of an obvious point.
Father: Well, if it is obvious, then it undercuts the argument you just made that this is only a question of "science" and that we should just let science go where it will go. Because, of course, that's not what we do.
Actor: Sure it is. You just said in most cases, we let research go where it will.
Father: Well, that's not exactly what I said, certainly not my meaning. What I said was, it seems to me almost all the time, we don't have these debates about the research--and I think that's because most of the time, the research takes place within the boundaries that define what's acceptable and unacceptable. Boundaries that are, in fact, moral rather than "scientific." And it's precisely because this particular question, of research that involves destroying human embryos, we are crossing a boundary--and that is what is awakening lots of reaction.
But I totally dispute the assertion that science simply goes where it will. In fact, as a society, we do place boundaries on where science may go, and how it may carry out its ends.
Actor: How so?
Father: Well, for one, when people participate in research, they must give informed consent. There was a day that wasn't true, as you and I both know. For another, even when we don't involve people, but rather, animals, we insist on being "humane," and even with that, we do have real controversy over whether it's right--note that, that's a moral term--whether it's right even to use animals...at all. And--as you know, there have been times scientists have conducted research on human beings, in cruel and obscene ways--unspeakable ways--but the fact is, it was "research" . . . and while that is past--we hope!--the question remains: is it moral, is it ethical, to draw on the fruits of that horrible research?
Actor: you're speaking of the Holocaust.
Father: In part; but the principle applies any time you have research that crosses ethical boundaries we all agree on. In this country, African-Americans were involved in so-called research without their knowledge or consent. It was--we all agree--wrong. My point is, it is simply fallacious to say we let science go where it will. No we don't. We do set ethical--and here I go again!--moral boundaries.
Actor: So...what's your point?
Father: My point is, it would be nice if you acknowleged that more often. That it's not illegitimate to set boundaries on research. That's what I and everyone else, opposed to embryonic stem-cell research are doing.
Actor: You really think not using those embryos--which will be destroyed anyway--is more important than the cures we could obtain?
Father: I don't accept that either-or. Who says we can't do both?
Actor: But you're putting a huge chunk of the research off-limits. Doesn't that guarantee we'll take longer to get there?
Father: I don't know. It may. But, may I point out, that argument applies as well to every other boundary we place on research. But we still do confine scientific research to certain ethical boundaries, such as we talked about. By your argument, those, too, "slow us down." Isn't that the price we pay to be a civilized society?
Actor: You're saying my disease is the price we pay?
Father: Perhaps we could advance research by cutting off people's left hands--their right hands if they're left-handed. Why don't we do that?
Actor: but that's hypothetical. There is no such research.
Father: All right. There is research we could conduct on human fetuses--babies in the womb. Right now it's legal to get an abortion--
Actor: Wait--I'm not talking about abortion.
Father: No, you're not. I am. Let me finish. Right now, this is legal--and the tissue from the fetus can and is used for research. We could do things we don't, now, do, to have more fetal tissue.
Actor: Like what?
Father: Like, we could pay women to conceive babies, and then...well do you need me to spell it out. It's repulsive.
Actor: It is repulsive. Why do you bring it up?
Father: Because it's a real example of what you just said isn't true: where we slow down research because of a moral scruple. After all, abortion is legal. Using the remains for research is happening. So what holds us back from doing that a lot more -- other than we all find it repulsive? After all, it could save lives...don't you care? You see my point? I'm not trying to accuse you; I'm trying to illustrate another application of your own argument.
Actor: I don't see how this is connected.
Father: Well, it is connected to the question of cloning...
Actor: No it isn't. We're not talking about cloning...
Father: Well, I guess we have to decide what we mean by that. By cloning, I mean creating new embryos, but not in the way we've always created them--that is, with a man and woman contributing a sperm and an egg. As of right now, that's the only way we can "create" a human embryo. But if we go ahead with massive, full-bore embryonic stem-cell research, we eventually run out of the embryos in fertility clinics. Then what?
Actor: But no one is advocating--I mean, I'm not--advocating having cloned people walk around.
Father: That's true. But my point was, you agree that the question of producing embryos eventually comes up.
Actor: Well, but they aren't really embryos--they're just cells.
Father: Oh, now Mr. Fox, I want to be courteous and all, but come on! You can't talk about "embryonic stem-cell research" in one breath, and then quibble over the word embryo! If they aren't "embryos" then it's not "embryonic stem-cell research. The fact is, the proposal is to replicate, through what is commonly called "cloning," an embryo that otherwise would be created by uniting a sperm and an egg. And at some point, that's likely to become necessary.
Actor: But you're calling that an embryo.
Father: With all respect, I think as a matter of science, that's the proper term. We're talking about something that is factually indistinguishable from an embryo. Call it a "synthetic" embryo if you want; but the whole point is that it is an embryo, for purposes of science.
Actor: Well, all this seems pretty arcane.
Father: Are you saying it's not important? These details, and their significance, are irrelevant?
Actor: I don't know. For me, it's pretty simple, I guess; and I think it is for a lot of folks.
Father: Are you saying, in that, that it's "simple" for a majority of folks?
Actor: Well, I guess so. Yes.
Father: Are you appealing to the majority on this? I mean, is your argument, now, that your position is superior, or should win the say, because more people agree with you?
Actor: Well, are you saying your position should carry the day because a majority disagrees with you?
Father: Not at all. What I'm questioning is whether which side is in the majority settles the question of right-versus-wrong.
Actor: How else do you settle it?
Father: You and I are both white males. We haven't, historically, had to worry about being part of a marginalized minority. At least, far less so than many others. I'm saying, sometimes you have to put these questions beyond majority-rule.
Actor: So you don't even want the question placed on the ballot?
Father: That's exactly what I'm saying. I'm saying, I don't care if 99% of the people vote for something--that doesn't make it right. After all--suppose that referendum goes down in Missouri--it may--does that make you wrong? Will you change your position.
Actor: No.
Father: I suppose this is as good a place to conclude our talk; I mean, we can't settle this. But I hope you feel you had your say.
Actor: to some extent.
Father: Well, I wrote both parts, so it's a lot harder and riskier to try to come up with what you'd say. I figured this was less unfair to you.
Actor: Hmmm, that's a different way to look at it.
Father: You were gracious to take part. I didn't think I would convince you, although one always hopes! But I thought this is important to get into the substance of the question. Do you disagree? I mean, with that last part?
Actor: No, not at all.
Father: Wonderful to meet you. I've been asked if we were related...
Actor: Funny--no one has ever asked me that about you!
Father: I can't imagine why. Thanks a lot.
*As I rather doubted Mr. Fox would make himself available for such an interview, I have imagined what he might say. Too much cold medicine can have this effect.
I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified -- St. Paul, I Corinthians 2:2
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
The Room for Rude People
This thread exists for one reason--those who visit here, who can't behave in a courteous, civilized fashion will be free to post here, or not at all.
However, should they re-discover common courtesy, they will be "let out."
P.S. I deliberately "back dated" this post to October 25, since I don't see any reason it should sit at the top of my page. This "P.S." serves to avoid any deception.
However, should they re-discover common courtesy, they will be "let out."
P.S. I deliberately "back dated" this post to October 25, since I don't see any reason it should sit at the top of my page. This "P.S." serves to avoid any deception.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
The final miracle of the Holy Spirit (Sunday homily at St. Boniface)
Today we celebrate something just for our parish:
the anniversary of the dedication of this church.
That’s not the same as the anniversary of the parish:
Our parish was founded on July 3, 1855.
But on October 26, in 1865, this building,
was consecrated the first time for Catholic worship.
Of course, just a year ago,
to commemorate 150 years as a parish,
the Archbishop consecrated a new altar—here.
So, today, we particularly celebrate this building.
That first reading:
King Solomon and all the people,
dedicating his Temple. Quite a scene, wasn’t it?
Trumpeters and singers,
the building was “filled with a cloud”—
I did my best with the incense!
But did you notice
what was the center of the celebration?
The “Ark of the Covenant”—
all in gold, carried by priests,
brought to the Holy of Holies,
and placed behind a curtain.
Did you notice what was in that ark?
“Nothing was in it but the two tablets
Moses put there on Horeb”—that is, Sinai!
The tablets of the Ten Commandments. That’s it.
You realize, as impressive as that was,
you and I have something far greater
than Solomon’s Temple.
Our parish church is, I think, beautiful.
We could—and perhaps in time, we will—
make it even moreso.
As you know, next weekend, we’ll have a dinner
to raise money for painting the gym—
and whatever we have left over after that,
we’ll spend repairing the exterior of our church.
So—I hope everyone here will come
to that dinner—it’s only $10, less for children,
and it’s not even about the money—
we even have free tickets too!
It’s also about our being together as a parish.
In years to come, you and I will make our church
even more beautiful.
I have ideas and dreams; and we’ll do it.
This is our home—it’s worth it!
But what makes this church so special—
far beyond Solomon’s Temple…
Is that the Ark of our Covenant is not empty!
The Lord God himself is HERE!
See our altar?
Solomon’s priests offered up sheep and oxen.
But here, you and I approach the true Mount Zion;
with countless angels in festal gathering.
Because here, together with all the saints in heaven,
we offer, not lambs and bulls,
but the very Son of God himself:
Jesus, the Lamb of God!
Jesus’ own Precious Blood is poured out here!
That never happened in Solomon’s Temple;
but it happens here, at every Mass!
If you think I’m claiming Heaven comes down here—
you’re right!
I am not speaking figuratively, or symbolically—
I mean it: Heaven literally and truly comes here
at each and every Mass!
We celebrate the dedication of a building,
because Heaven has made this building its outpost!
This is Heaven’s embassy, right here in Piqua!
You want to go to heaven?
This is as close as we can get—till we get there!
So we take our worship, our Mass, very seriously.
we give our full attention and participation;
we bring our very best.
Yes, Father lights up lots of candles,
and we smoke up the holy of holies!
When Rome, and the bishops, give us instructions
on the Mass, with attention to detail,
some will say, oh, you’re being too fussy.
But the Mass doesn’t just belong to us, here;
but to the whole Church—
around the world, and in heaven too!
See, there’s something else going on.
God is here;
and here God’s people come to be united with him.
So we really can’t fully understand it.
Our best hope is to surrender to it.
That’s what worship really means.
We don’t tinker with the Mass
to make it fit our expectations;
we pray the Mass reshapes us,
to fit Heaven’s expectations!
Our hour each week aims to make us ready
to be in heaven forever!
What could be more important?
So we don’t bring anything second-rate—
only our best.
For various reasons,
we can’t always help what we wear;
but when we can—why not wear our very best?
Don’t hold back your talents:
read or help at Mass, join our choir!
Well, of course, we know, even our best
can only reach so high.
We’re imperfect,
and we will never reach heaven on our own.
The Good News is, Jesus comes here, too—
and he does bring his very best!
His best—to the altar; his best—in the tabernacle;
and his best, in each of our hearts!
He gives us the Holy Spirit!
It’s his Holy Spirit that makes that, not bread,
but truly God, in the tabernacle.
It’s his Spirit
that makes what happens at the altar,
not play-acting, not mere ritual,
but truly the Cross of Calvary
made real in our midst!
And it is his Holy Spirit that makes this building
more than just bricks and mortar,
but truly a Holy of Holies,
an embassy of Heaven on earth!
All that—for just one more miracle,
the greatest of all.
Not the transformation of a building;
not even the transubstantiation of bread and wine;
but the changing of people!
You and I, mere mortals,
you and I, pilgrim people,
still on our journey,
still in the process of being changed.
Now, we come, for a brief time, to be in heaven.
We ache to have enough faith to believe it.
We don’t see angels, but we know they’re here.
But one day, it will be finally true!
Not for an hour, not for a day, but forever!
The Holy Spirit’s greatest work
will be complete:
changing us into the Body of Christ,
the heavenly Jerusalem,
the true Temple, where God abides forever.
the anniversary of the dedication of this church.
That’s not the same as the anniversary of the parish:
Our parish was founded on July 3, 1855.
But on October 26, in 1865, this building,
was consecrated the first time for Catholic worship.
Of course, just a year ago,
to commemorate 150 years as a parish,
the Archbishop consecrated a new altar—here.
So, today, we particularly celebrate this building.
That first reading:
King Solomon and all the people,
dedicating his Temple. Quite a scene, wasn’t it?
Trumpeters and singers,
the building was “filled with a cloud”—
I did my best with the incense!
But did you notice
what was the center of the celebration?
The “Ark of the Covenant”—
all in gold, carried by priests,
brought to the Holy of Holies,
and placed behind a curtain.
Did you notice what was in that ark?
“Nothing was in it but the two tablets
Moses put there on Horeb”—that is, Sinai!
The tablets of the Ten Commandments. That’s it.
You realize, as impressive as that was,
you and I have something far greater
than Solomon’s Temple.
Our parish church is, I think, beautiful.
We could—and perhaps in time, we will—
make it even moreso.
As you know, next weekend, we’ll have a dinner
to raise money for painting the gym—
and whatever we have left over after that,
we’ll spend repairing the exterior of our church.
So—I hope everyone here will come
to that dinner—it’s only $10, less for children,
and it’s not even about the money—
we even have free tickets too!
It’s also about our being together as a parish.
In years to come, you and I will make our church
even more beautiful.
I have ideas and dreams; and we’ll do it.
This is our home—it’s worth it!
But what makes this church so special—
far beyond Solomon’s Temple…
Is that the Ark of our Covenant is not empty!
The Lord God himself is HERE!
See our altar?
Solomon’s priests offered up sheep and oxen.
But here, you and I approach the true Mount Zion;
with countless angels in festal gathering.
Because here, together with all the saints in heaven,
we offer, not lambs and bulls,
but the very Son of God himself:
Jesus, the Lamb of God!
Jesus’ own Precious Blood is poured out here!
That never happened in Solomon’s Temple;
but it happens here, at every Mass!
If you think I’m claiming Heaven comes down here—
you’re right!
I am not speaking figuratively, or symbolically—
I mean it: Heaven literally and truly comes here
at each and every Mass!
We celebrate the dedication of a building,
because Heaven has made this building its outpost!
This is Heaven’s embassy, right here in Piqua!
You want to go to heaven?
This is as close as we can get—till we get there!
So we take our worship, our Mass, very seriously.
we give our full attention and participation;
we bring our very best.
Yes, Father lights up lots of candles,
and we smoke up the holy of holies!
When Rome, and the bishops, give us instructions
on the Mass, with attention to detail,
some will say, oh, you’re being too fussy.
But the Mass doesn’t just belong to us, here;
but to the whole Church—
around the world, and in heaven too!
See, there’s something else going on.
God is here;
and here God’s people come to be united with him.
So we really can’t fully understand it.
Our best hope is to surrender to it.
That’s what worship really means.
We don’t tinker with the Mass
to make it fit our expectations;
we pray the Mass reshapes us,
to fit Heaven’s expectations!
Our hour each week aims to make us ready
to be in heaven forever!
What could be more important?
So we don’t bring anything second-rate—
only our best.
For various reasons,
we can’t always help what we wear;
but when we can—why not wear our very best?
Don’t hold back your talents:
read or help at Mass, join our choir!
Well, of course, we know, even our best
can only reach so high.
We’re imperfect,
and we will never reach heaven on our own.
The Good News is, Jesus comes here, too—
and he does bring his very best!
His best—to the altar; his best—in the tabernacle;
and his best, in each of our hearts!
He gives us the Holy Spirit!
It’s his Holy Spirit that makes that, not bread,
but truly God, in the tabernacle.
It’s his Spirit
that makes what happens at the altar,
not play-acting, not mere ritual,
but truly the Cross of Calvary
made real in our midst!
And it is his Holy Spirit that makes this building
more than just bricks and mortar,
but truly a Holy of Holies,
an embassy of Heaven on earth!
All that—for just one more miracle,
the greatest of all.
Not the transformation of a building;
not even the transubstantiation of bread and wine;
but the changing of people!
You and I, mere mortals,
you and I, pilgrim people,
still on our journey,
still in the process of being changed.
Now, we come, for a brief time, to be in heaven.
We ache to have enough faith to believe it.
We don’t see angels, but we know they’re here.
But one day, it will be finally true!
Not for an hour, not for a day, but forever!
The Holy Spirit’s greatest work
will be complete:
changing us into the Body of Christ,
the heavenly Jerusalem,
the true Temple, where God abides forever.
Want the glory? Share the Cross (Sunday homily at St. Mary)
It’s a hard thing to suffer.
A lot of families in our community
are suffering: not enough work;
not enough to pay the bills.
Our community is suffering.
These economic woes
magnify personal and family ones.
A family member strikes out in anger—or pulls away;
Someone seeks solace in the bottle or the Internet.
Many single or divorced parents struggle alone.
These are the hurts many around us face.
I know many parents face these burdens,
and bear them, trying to spare their children…
May I say to you: You have a courage I cannot fathom,
and I am filled with admiration for you.
Know that, if your children don’t understand now,
they will in time; and they will admire that courage too.
It’s what the first reading described:
“If he gives his life as an offering,”
“he shall see his descendants in a long life,
and the will of the LORD
shall be accomplished through him.”
As I said, our community is suffering, too.
It challenges us to ask—
how can we respond to these needs?
We have a St. Vincent de Paul fund—
thank you for your generosity.
And I’m not complaining or begging, but:
there’s so much more I wish we could afford to do.
Right now, about all we can do is patchwork.
Our parish staff is smaller, but the needs are greater;
so, unfortunately, we do less from our offices,
and we coordinate more
with Bethany Center and Salvation Army.
That first reading is for us, then, too:
If you and I give our lives as an offering—
here in Piqua!—
we shall see our descendants in a long life,
and the will of the LORD shall be accomplished…
through us!
We look further—at the situation of our world.
We have crime in our streets;
Places like Iraq and Darfur
face war and genocide in their streets.
Some in our community lack medical care
or a decent place to live…
In Haiti, if you have a home—you’re middle class!
And if you have a toilet, you’re rich!
Gives you some perspective, doesn’t it?
How blessed we are!
Yet, what suffering we do experience—
in the words of the second reading—
enables us to sympathize with others’ weaknesses.
That’s what the Son of God did
in coming to earth, as our High Priest.
See how that works?
It’s not that suffering and pain are good; they’re bad.
But in our world, such things help us understand.
They help us know how to respond.
What did the Lord tell his Apostles?
You want glory and honor?
Drink the cup—share my Cross!
And he says the same to us.
This is what my mother, and yours, taught us:
“Offer it up!”
No, that doesn’t mean, be a doormat.
It means this: I had a cold recently.
Instead of whining, "poor me,"
I offer it to Jesus, as my little sliver of the Cross.
Little sacrifices: no dessert; no meat on Friday;
a pain in your back—
or a neighborhood “pain in the neck”!
I know, you wonder, how can that do any good?
How can my cold, last week,
contribute to the salvation of the world?
That’s not for us to know, is it?
But we do know the Lord said:
you want to share the glory? Share the Cross!
Offer it up!
Notice what a great act of humility this is:
We’re proud to bring an impressive gift;
instead, we have to bring something so insignificant!
Parents, when you teach your children
these small sacrifices,
you are starting them on the path to heroic virtue:
this really is the school of sainthood!
This is how we begin to learn the courage it takes
to be a priest, to be a nun,
to be a faithful spouse and parent;
to be a missionary, to be a police officer or a soldier;
to be a worker for justice in countless ways.
This is how we become people
who don’t care about money and power,
but rather, will risk all—even our own lives—
to stand up for the poor, to fight for others.
This is how we become people
who will risk anything and everything
that Christ may be better known!
“For the Son of Man did not come
to be served but to serve…
and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
You want the glory? Share the Cross.
A lot of families in our community
are suffering: not enough work;
not enough to pay the bills.
Our community is suffering.
These economic woes
magnify personal and family ones.
A family member strikes out in anger—or pulls away;
Someone seeks solace in the bottle or the Internet.
Many single or divorced parents struggle alone.
These are the hurts many around us face.
I know many parents face these burdens,
and bear them, trying to spare their children…
May I say to you: You have a courage I cannot fathom,
and I am filled with admiration for you.
Know that, if your children don’t understand now,
they will in time; and they will admire that courage too.
It’s what the first reading described:
“If he gives his life as an offering,”
“he shall see his descendants in a long life,
and the will of the LORD
shall be accomplished through him.”
As I said, our community is suffering, too.
It challenges us to ask—
how can we respond to these needs?
We have a St. Vincent de Paul fund—
thank you for your generosity.
And I’m not complaining or begging, but:
there’s so much more I wish we could afford to do.
Right now, about all we can do is patchwork.
Our parish staff is smaller, but the needs are greater;
so, unfortunately, we do less from our offices,
and we coordinate more
with Bethany Center and Salvation Army.
That first reading is for us, then, too:
If you and I give our lives as an offering—
here in Piqua!—
we shall see our descendants in a long life,
and the will of the LORD shall be accomplished…
through us!
We look further—at the situation of our world.
We have crime in our streets;
Places like Iraq and Darfur
face war and genocide in their streets.
Some in our community lack medical care
or a decent place to live…
In Haiti, if you have a home—you’re middle class!
And if you have a toilet, you’re rich!
Gives you some perspective, doesn’t it?
How blessed we are!
Yet, what suffering we do experience—
in the words of the second reading—
enables us to sympathize with others’ weaknesses.
That’s what the Son of God did
in coming to earth, as our High Priest.
See how that works?
It’s not that suffering and pain are good; they’re bad.
But in our world, such things help us understand.
They help us know how to respond.
What did the Lord tell his Apostles?
You want glory and honor?
Drink the cup—share my Cross!
And he says the same to us.
This is what my mother, and yours, taught us:
“Offer it up!”
No, that doesn’t mean, be a doormat.
It means this: I had a cold recently.
Instead of whining, "poor me,"
I offer it to Jesus, as my little sliver of the Cross.
Little sacrifices: no dessert; no meat on Friday;
a pain in your back—
or a neighborhood “pain in the neck”!
I know, you wonder, how can that do any good?
How can my cold, last week,
contribute to the salvation of the world?
That’s not for us to know, is it?
But we do know the Lord said:
you want to share the glory? Share the Cross!
Offer it up!
Notice what a great act of humility this is:
We’re proud to bring an impressive gift;
instead, we have to bring something so insignificant!
Parents, when you teach your children
these small sacrifices,
you are starting them on the path to heroic virtue:
this really is the school of sainthood!
This is how we begin to learn the courage it takes
to be a priest, to be a nun,
to be a faithful spouse and parent;
to be a missionary, to be a police officer or a soldier;
to be a worker for justice in countless ways.
This is how we become people
who don’t care about money and power,
but rather, will risk all—even our own lives—
to stand up for the poor, to fight for others.
This is how we become people
who will risk anything and everything
that Christ may be better known!
“For the Son of Man did not come
to be served but to serve…
and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
You want the glory? Share the Cross.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
What will become of the GOP?
I learned a long time ago not to make political predictions. Too much can change.
But it's hardly a secret that nearly all the signs point to the GOP taking a beating next month. Most seem to expect the Republicans to lose control at least of the U.S. House of Representatives, and possibly the Senate. Not to mention various losses around the country.
Well . . . we'll see. These sort of predictions tend to get overblown; but every once in a while, it is actually worse than anyone predicts.
If the GOP takes the beating widely predicted, let us be clear why this will have happened.
If the GOP goes down in flames, it will not be because of the pathetic Rep. Foley, who lusted after pages.
It won't be because of Bush, per se.
It won't be because of Iraq.
It won't be because the Republicans actually carried through on their ideological commitments.
No, it will because they betrayed their promises and their base.
It will be because they failed to advance the agenda they have claimed, all these years, to care about. As a result, they won't have that agenda to talk about, they will end up talking about scandals and porkbarrel and other things. Every campaign has to be about something; when it's not about larger, more significant issues, then it inevitably ends up being about trivial stupid things. Thus, George Bush the elder ran on flag-burning -- a regrettable, but hardly world-shaking, problem.
Let's be clear: the GOP took power in 1994 in reaction to the agenda the Democrats -- in Congress and the White House -- were advancing: higher taxes, bigger spending, more government (including a health-care plan), more advocacy for abortion, more gun control, more power for union bosses, and probably a few other things I've forgotten. Now, one can defend these things (better you than me): you can say the higher taxes were modest, and needed; that the health-care plan was a misunderstood boon that sadly was denied us; that gun control is good for us, etc. But please, let's not pretend that there wasn't a clear contrast, in 1994, between what the Democrats had proposed and voted on and enacted, and where their GOP challengers stood.
The GOP did not win because of the stupid, vastly overrated "Contract with America." Who remembers what the 10 items were; let along what elements were enacted? That was PR, nothing else. PR is easy; I know, I used to do it for a living. Getting PR is not impressive.
The GOP won because enough of its candidates offered themselves as credible alternatives: on guns, on taxes, on government spending and power; on Right to Work, on prolife.
And how has the GOP done since then? Well, in the first few years opposing Clinton, not bad; they were a real alternative, and happily, the resulting gridlock meant less spending, and actual reduction in government power. The government actually retrenched on an entitlement!
Then, the stupid Republicans decided to get personal, and go after Clinton instead of sticking to issues; and in 1998, they lost a number of seats, where they'd gained in 1996. In 2000, they were all about cheering on their new hero, George W. Bush; and ever since, they've forgotten nearly every principle and commitment they ever had or made.
In fairness, they have done some of what they promised; they have advanced some prolife measures; they did address "tort reform," they did do some good things on guns, and of course, they did make some reductions in taxes--probably the most effective thing they can claim credit for. It is also fair to note that it is not surprising they actually enacted less, because so many fail to realize just how hard it is, and how long it takes, to enact anything really significant in Congress. (And they fail to realize how good that really is.)
Meanwhile, however, they did enact lots of things: a new government entitlement, lots more power for government to spy on us and police us (but don't worry you're little heads; Uncle Sugar wouldn't think of misusing that power, noooo); legislation restricting free speech (the so-called McCain-Feingold Campaign Reform), and of course, wave upon wave of prodigal spending.
The point is, the GOP, somewhere along the line, stopped being the alternative to the problem, and came uncomfortably to resemble the problem it was supposed to oppose. And the last few years, the loyal base has held its nose and voted them back in.
That may yet happen again. But if not, be clear what happened: it was the conservative base that had enough; not the poor, misunderstood "moderates," who if only everyone would listen to sweet reason, would lead us all to the Promised Land -- who if only we'd listened to them, all would be well.
The policy we've gotten from the GOP the past few years is precisely the sort of thing "moderates" like Olympia Snowe and Mike Dewine would vote for -- because it's been their votes the leadership has had to court. This hand-wringing crowd always says the correct thing about spending -- "not too much!" -- but really, when have they ever done anything truly useful? Did they stand in the breach to prevent a huge, new expansion of Medicare? Who are you kidding?
If the GOP goes down in flames in three weeks, there will be a certain justice if Ohio Senator Mike Dewine goes with it: because the GOP that loses will be one that trimmed its agenda to suit him.
But it's hardly a secret that nearly all the signs point to the GOP taking a beating next month. Most seem to expect the Republicans to lose control at least of the U.S. House of Representatives, and possibly the Senate. Not to mention various losses around the country.
Well . . . we'll see. These sort of predictions tend to get overblown; but every once in a while, it is actually worse than anyone predicts.
If the GOP takes the beating widely predicted, let us be clear why this will have happened.
If the GOP goes down in flames, it will not be because of the pathetic Rep. Foley, who lusted after pages.
It won't be because of Bush, per se.
It won't be because of Iraq.
It won't be because the Republicans actually carried through on their ideological commitments.
No, it will because they betrayed their promises and their base.
It will be because they failed to advance the agenda they have claimed, all these years, to care about. As a result, they won't have that agenda to talk about, they will end up talking about scandals and porkbarrel and other things. Every campaign has to be about something; when it's not about larger, more significant issues, then it inevitably ends up being about trivial stupid things. Thus, George Bush the elder ran on flag-burning -- a regrettable, but hardly world-shaking, problem.
Let's be clear: the GOP took power in 1994 in reaction to the agenda the Democrats -- in Congress and the White House -- were advancing: higher taxes, bigger spending, more government (including a health-care plan), more advocacy for abortion, more gun control, more power for union bosses, and probably a few other things I've forgotten. Now, one can defend these things (better you than me): you can say the higher taxes were modest, and needed; that the health-care plan was a misunderstood boon that sadly was denied us; that gun control is good for us, etc. But please, let's not pretend that there wasn't a clear contrast, in 1994, between what the Democrats had proposed and voted on and enacted, and where their GOP challengers stood.
The GOP did not win because of the stupid, vastly overrated "Contract with America." Who remembers what the 10 items were; let along what elements were enacted? That was PR, nothing else. PR is easy; I know, I used to do it for a living. Getting PR is not impressive.
The GOP won because enough of its candidates offered themselves as credible alternatives: on guns, on taxes, on government spending and power; on Right to Work, on prolife.
And how has the GOP done since then? Well, in the first few years opposing Clinton, not bad; they were a real alternative, and happily, the resulting gridlock meant less spending, and actual reduction in government power. The government actually retrenched on an entitlement!
Then, the stupid Republicans decided to get personal, and go after Clinton instead of sticking to issues; and in 1998, they lost a number of seats, where they'd gained in 1996. In 2000, they were all about cheering on their new hero, George W. Bush; and ever since, they've forgotten nearly every principle and commitment they ever had or made.
In fairness, they have done some of what they promised; they have advanced some prolife measures; they did address "tort reform," they did do some good things on guns, and of course, they did make some reductions in taxes--probably the most effective thing they can claim credit for. It is also fair to note that it is not surprising they actually enacted less, because so many fail to realize just how hard it is, and how long it takes, to enact anything really significant in Congress. (And they fail to realize how good that really is.)
Meanwhile, however, they did enact lots of things: a new government entitlement, lots more power for government to spy on us and police us (but don't worry you're little heads; Uncle Sugar wouldn't think of misusing that power, noooo); legislation restricting free speech (the so-called McCain-Feingold Campaign Reform), and of course, wave upon wave of prodigal spending.
The point is, the GOP, somewhere along the line, stopped being the alternative to the problem, and came uncomfortably to resemble the problem it was supposed to oppose. And the last few years, the loyal base has held its nose and voted them back in.
That may yet happen again. But if not, be clear what happened: it was the conservative base that had enough; not the poor, misunderstood "moderates," who if only everyone would listen to sweet reason, would lead us all to the Promised Land -- who if only we'd listened to them, all would be well.
The policy we've gotten from the GOP the past few years is precisely the sort of thing "moderates" like Olympia Snowe and Mike Dewine would vote for -- because it's been their votes the leadership has had to court. This hand-wringing crowd always says the correct thing about spending -- "not too much!" -- but really, when have they ever done anything truly useful? Did they stand in the breach to prevent a huge, new expansion of Medicare? Who are you kidding?
If the GOP goes down in flames in three weeks, there will be a certain justice if Ohio Senator Mike Dewine goes with it: because the GOP that loses will be one that trimmed its agenda to suit him.
Some lessons from hearing confessions
I spent the morning hearing confessions (along with two other priests) from our third, fourth and fifth-graders. Hoped to get to sixth-graders, but ran out of time, so we'll get them, with junior high, next week.
In a few, I'll hear confessions before evening Mass, then a weekly Bible study.
Here are some thoughts...
* It is...well, let's say "odd" since I can't come up with a better word--to have people confess my own sins to me. Maybe it's just me, or maybe God is sending me a message; effect is the same: it is humbling, and it challenges me to repent.
* Part of the value of bringing children to confession is so they become accustomed to examining their lives, and to recognizing sin as sin, and having discernment about it. The idea that young children don't have sin to confess is absurd. Oh, I am not saying they have mortal sin, only God can read souls. But if you think second- and third-graders don't have sin, what planet do you live on? I was talking to a 3rd-grade teacher last night, about today, and she said, "some of them said, 'but we did that last year!'" I said, if they have any problems coming up with sins to confess, I bet you can help them! She laughed, as did the others at the table; Sister said, "that's what my mother always said to me!"
Another part of it, of course, is so they learn the form. Some will say, the form doesn't matter. And, on one level, that's right. I can help anyone go to confession. But learning the form, and getting it down pat, is valuable because then the penitent can focus energy on the really important stuff: the self-examination. A lot of people use, "I don't remember how" as an excuse not to go, and months become years. Also, a certain rigor of practice contributes to a certain rigor of thought; i.e., it helps people organize their thinking, and that helps their spiritual growth.
* I told the kids, with the sacraments, we think about what God gives us; but did you notice how, in this sacrament, its important that we give Jesus something? And did you notice what we're supposed to give him? Our sins! And, incredible as it seems, he actually wants them! Because he knows how they weigh us down, and he wants to get rid of them for us. I also told them the confessional is "the garbage dump"--we get rid of our spiritual garbage. So I led them in a simple examination of conscience, and I said, we feel sorry for sin, we feel bad about it; that's appropriate. But in a moment, when we let Jesus take all our garbage, we will feel great! So before confessions, we said the Act of Contrition together, kneeling; after, we said a Hail Mary and Glory Be together, expressing our thanks and joy.
(For all you liturgy purists, let me know what you think of this. I also lit the Easter Candle, and asked the kids about that. My dialogue with them led them to see the connection with Baptism, and how Penance is about re-gaining that same purity.)
* There's a good reason for using rhythm in speech (and hence, song).
One of the odd things I notice in this sacrament is that the words of absolution seem kind of long; particularly for children; and I wonder if their eyes glaze over.
Today, it dawned on me; what if I said them with a certain rhythm, with emphasis rising and falling? Maybe it would help the children attend to certain words and images. That's when it dawned on me: that's precisely what we do when we chant prayers; that rising and falling, rising and falling, creates a pleasing cadence, along with the varying notes, and the varying lengths of the notes, to create variety but also something familiar, and keeps a long string of words from being monotonous (which they easily can be when spoken--which is precisely how we've become accustomed to hearing almost all our prayers offered!
No, I am not planning to chant absolution! But borrowing this tool from the practice of chant could be helpful, and it may shed light on the genius at work in this ancient form of prayer.
In a few, I'll hear confessions before evening Mass, then a weekly Bible study.
Here are some thoughts...
* It is...well, let's say "odd" since I can't come up with a better word--to have people confess my own sins to me. Maybe it's just me, or maybe God is sending me a message; effect is the same: it is humbling, and it challenges me to repent.
* Part of the value of bringing children to confession is so they become accustomed to examining their lives, and to recognizing sin as sin, and having discernment about it. The idea that young children don't have sin to confess is absurd. Oh, I am not saying they have mortal sin, only God can read souls. But if you think second- and third-graders don't have sin, what planet do you live on? I was talking to a 3rd-grade teacher last night, about today, and she said, "some of them said, 'but we did that last year!'" I said, if they have any problems coming up with sins to confess, I bet you can help them! She laughed, as did the others at the table; Sister said, "that's what my mother always said to me!"
Another part of it, of course, is so they learn the form. Some will say, the form doesn't matter. And, on one level, that's right. I can help anyone go to confession. But learning the form, and getting it down pat, is valuable because then the penitent can focus energy on the really important stuff: the self-examination. A lot of people use, "I don't remember how" as an excuse not to go, and months become years. Also, a certain rigor of practice contributes to a certain rigor of thought; i.e., it helps people organize their thinking, and that helps their spiritual growth.
* I told the kids, with the sacraments, we think about what God gives us; but did you notice how, in this sacrament, its important that we give Jesus something? And did you notice what we're supposed to give him? Our sins! And, incredible as it seems, he actually wants them! Because he knows how they weigh us down, and he wants to get rid of them for us. I also told them the confessional is "the garbage dump"--we get rid of our spiritual garbage. So I led them in a simple examination of conscience, and I said, we feel sorry for sin, we feel bad about it; that's appropriate. But in a moment, when we let Jesus take all our garbage, we will feel great! So before confessions, we said the Act of Contrition together, kneeling; after, we said a Hail Mary and Glory Be together, expressing our thanks and joy.
(For all you liturgy purists, let me know what you think of this. I also lit the Easter Candle, and asked the kids about that. My dialogue with them led them to see the connection with Baptism, and how Penance is about re-gaining that same purity.)
* There's a good reason for using rhythm in speech (and hence, song).
One of the odd things I notice in this sacrament is that the words of absolution seem kind of long; particularly for children; and I wonder if their eyes glaze over.
Today, it dawned on me; what if I said them with a certain rhythm, with emphasis rising and falling? Maybe it would help the children attend to certain words and images. That's when it dawned on me: that's precisely what we do when we chant prayers; that rising and falling, rising and falling, creates a pleasing cadence, along with the varying notes, and the varying lengths of the notes, to create variety but also something familiar, and keeps a long string of words from being monotonous (which they easily can be when spoken--which is precisely how we've become accustomed to hearing almost all our prayers offered!
No, I am not planning to chant absolution! But borrowing this tool from the practice of chant could be helpful, and it may shed light on the genius at work in this ancient form of prayer.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Back from several days in Cincinnati
No, my cold didn't turn into Bird Flu, nor did I go on a secret mission for the Holy Father; I simply went to Cincinnati for a seminar over several days. Now I'm back.
No homily for this weekend, sorry.
No homily for this weekend, sorry.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Government-mandated minimum wage: pro and con
Here in Ohio, we have initiative and referenda (there's a distinction between them that has been explained to me, but I have forgotten what it is). I wish we didn't.
On the ballot this November is an amendment to the state constitution hiking the legal "minimum wage" and calling for annual increases every year. The Archbishop of Cincinnati, my diocese, has endorsed it.
I oppose this sort of thing as -- to speak theologically -- an imprudent way to bring about a "just wage" that has many harmful effects, and therefore, in my judgment, ill-advised.
Now, as to my own opinion, I am happy to share it; the Archbishop gave his, and I respect him; but I know he doesn't mind that I have my own, and share it.
Here's what I said recently in a Sunday homily (posted two weeks ago here):
As we have that election in mind,
the Apostle James, in the second reading,
gives us some things to think about.
In his time, rich and poor
were much more fixed categories.
So he was saying to the rich—
you have to help the poor,
because if you won’t, who will?
That’s still true, but in a different way, today.
Today, the question is,
how do we provide opportunities
for people to escape poverty,
as well as helping those in poverty.
Some say, “pass a law raising the minimum wage.”
Others say, “that’s the wrong way to do it—
better is to create more jobs.”
We will disagree on the method;
But St. James warns us, woe to us if we
think it’s not our problem!
Woe to us if we think
the fate of the weakest members
of our human family aren’t our problem:
St. James says, you live in luxury and pleasure,
while the innocent are murdered.
Is there anything more to be said?
On the ballot this November is an amendment to the state constitution hiking the legal "minimum wage" and calling for annual increases every year. The Archbishop of Cincinnati, my diocese, has endorsed it.
I oppose this sort of thing as -- to speak theologically -- an imprudent way to bring about a "just wage" that has many harmful effects, and therefore, in my judgment, ill-advised.
Now, as to my own opinion, I am happy to share it; the Archbishop gave his, and I respect him; but I know he doesn't mind that I have my own, and share it.
Here's what I said recently in a Sunday homily (posted two weeks ago here):
As we have that election in mind,
the Apostle James, in the second reading,
gives us some things to think about.
In his time, rich and poor
were much more fixed categories.
So he was saying to the rich—
you have to help the poor,
because if you won’t, who will?
That’s still true, but in a different way, today.
Today, the question is,
how do we provide opportunities
for people to escape poverty,
as well as helping those in poverty.
Some say, “pass a law raising the minimum wage.”
Others say, “that’s the wrong way to do it—
better is to create more jobs.”
We will disagree on the method;
But St. James warns us, woe to us if we
think it’s not our problem!
Woe to us if we think
the fate of the weakest members
of our human family aren’t our problem:
St. James says, you live in luxury and pleasure,
while the innocent are murdered.
Is there anything more to be said?
Head still full of goo
Well, I'm still under the weather, somewhat to my surprise.
It is a shame, because we've had beautiful weather here the past few days.
I did find out that cough syrup past it's use-by date still works!
Meanwhile, I am in my Lazyboy, praying and surfing (the 'net). A mountain of stuff awaits me when I get back to the office!
It is a shame, because we've had beautiful weather here the past few days.
I did find out that cough syrup past it's use-by date still works!
Meanwhile, I am in my Lazyboy, praying and surfing (the 'net). A mountain of stuff awaits me when I get back to the office!
Saturday, October 07, 2006
Hard but good (Sunday homily)
Wow, that’s hard!
Jesus just talked about divorce and remarriage
tougher than any bishop or priest wants to do.
This is why the Church cannot recognize
a second marriage, after a divorce,
unless it’s determined the first marriage
was not valid as a sacrament.
When folks in a second marriage
can’t receive the Eucharist, this is why.
Is this hard? Yes—it’s hard.
Last Sunday, Sister Joan Clare and I
met with the youth group, talking about vocations
to the religious life and the priesthood.
The question of celibacy—
remaining single for the sake of the Kingdom—came up.
"Is it hard?" someone asked;
don’t you miss not having a family?
My answer was, sure it’s hard.
And yes, I would have liked to have had my own children.
I told them, what I want is all the good parts
of being married and having a family—
but none of the hard parts.
That’s what we all want!
So, whether its marriage and family, or celibacy,
we can either say, "it’s too hard—I can’t do it"…
Or, we embrace the challenge—the Cross—and say,
"I don’t know why this is my path, but it is;
I don’t know why it’s so hard.
But—if I walk it with Jesus Christ,
it will lead to my salvation."
What we learn is that, in the end,
the hard parts are the good parts!
Now, may I just point, here, how all this
amplifies the old-fashioned wisdom
of postponing various levels of intimacy,
until we’re "old enough"?
Parents, I know how you have to struggle
against the tide of our culture.
It’s hard to be "Dr. No" day after day after day.
I realize you have to choose your battles.
But it is necessary that you do fight these battles,
and draw the line.
You say No to things for reasons
your children may not understand—but you do.
Even on questions of clothing and modesty,
as well as dating and relationships.
This is where just waiting makes so much sense:
Waiting just to begin dating,
waiting further, for exclusive dating—
and, of course, waiting till marriage
for sexual intimacy.
Boy, is that old-fashioned!
But it makes sense:
As I said,
we want all the fun parts, but none of the hard parts.
So, if we front-load the fun stuff—
the romance and the physical stuff—
when will we deal with the hard parts of intimacy?
What often happens is they show up, years later,
like unpaid bills. After marriage, after children.
And if we didn’t gain the maturity and depth
of painful self-denial when we were dating,
we’ll face it, even more painfully, later on.
And this is why, I think, the Church’s teaching
on openness to the gift of life, to children, seems hard.
Because it makes no sense
if we think self-denial makes no sense.
Natural Family Planning is only "too hard"
if we find several days a month
of abstinence, "too hard."
But please note this:
in addition to Natural Family Planning
being totally consistent with Church teaching,
being safe, healthy, natural, and effective…
Couples that embrace Natural Family Planning
get divorced far less often.
Why? I’m not sure.
It could be that frankly embracing self-denial
at the powerful core of our being,
where the drive for gratification seems so strong,
radiates out into the rest of our lives,
and helps us die to self in all the other ways.
Yes, it’s hard. But it’s good.
For those of us given the gift of children—
and not all are—nothing is more gratifying.
If we don’t, or can’t, have children,
or we’re beyond the age to have children,
it’s still true that what makes life meaningful
is not what we get for ourselves,
our financial security, our careers,
but how much we give ourselves away.
It’s hard—but it’s good.
The first reading from Genesis,
and the second, from Hebrews, make clear
that God believes we can do it!
God created us, not to be mere wild animals,
but something higher.
When God became a human being,
he became "lower than the angels"—but in doing so,
he lifted us up higher than the angels!
Did you know that?
You and I are higher than the angels,
because we call God—Jesus—our brother!
God became man to walk the path of the Cross.
He knew we already faced it;
he came to make it a path of salvation for us.
The Cross is not easy! Nothing is harder.
But it is the path of salvation—
it is the way that leads to true Life.
Yes, it’s hard—but it’s good.
Jesus just talked about divorce and remarriage
tougher than any bishop or priest wants to do.
This is why the Church cannot recognize
a second marriage, after a divorce,
unless it’s determined the first marriage
was not valid as a sacrament.
When folks in a second marriage
can’t receive the Eucharist, this is why.
Is this hard? Yes—it’s hard.
Last Sunday, Sister Joan Clare and I
met with the youth group, talking about vocations
to the religious life and the priesthood.
The question of celibacy—
remaining single for the sake of the Kingdom—came up.
"Is it hard?" someone asked;
don’t you miss not having a family?
My answer was, sure it’s hard.
And yes, I would have liked to have had my own children.
I told them, what I want is all the good parts
of being married and having a family—
but none of the hard parts.
That’s what we all want!
So, whether its marriage and family, or celibacy,
we can either say, "it’s too hard—I can’t do it"…
Or, we embrace the challenge—the Cross—and say,
"I don’t know why this is my path, but it is;
I don’t know why it’s so hard.
But—if I walk it with Jesus Christ,
it will lead to my salvation."
What we learn is that, in the end,
the hard parts are the good parts!
Now, may I just point, here, how all this
amplifies the old-fashioned wisdom
of postponing various levels of intimacy,
until we’re "old enough"?
Parents, I know how you have to struggle
against the tide of our culture.
It’s hard to be "Dr. No" day after day after day.
I realize you have to choose your battles.
But it is necessary that you do fight these battles,
and draw the line.
You say No to things for reasons
your children may not understand—but you do.
Even on questions of clothing and modesty,
as well as dating and relationships.
This is where just waiting makes so much sense:
Waiting just to begin dating,
waiting further, for exclusive dating—
and, of course, waiting till marriage
for sexual intimacy.
Boy, is that old-fashioned!
But it makes sense:
As I said,
we want all the fun parts, but none of the hard parts.
So, if we front-load the fun stuff—
the romance and the physical stuff—
when will we deal with the hard parts of intimacy?
What often happens is they show up, years later,
like unpaid bills. After marriage, after children.
And if we didn’t gain the maturity and depth
of painful self-denial when we were dating,
we’ll face it, even more painfully, later on.
And this is why, I think, the Church’s teaching
on openness to the gift of life, to children, seems hard.
Because it makes no sense
if we think self-denial makes no sense.
Natural Family Planning is only "too hard"
if we find several days a month
of abstinence, "too hard."
But please note this:
in addition to Natural Family Planning
being totally consistent with Church teaching,
being safe, healthy, natural, and effective…
Couples that embrace Natural Family Planning
get divorced far less often.
Why? I’m not sure.
It could be that frankly embracing self-denial
at the powerful core of our being,
where the drive for gratification seems so strong,
radiates out into the rest of our lives,
and helps us die to self in all the other ways.
Yes, it’s hard. But it’s good.
For those of us given the gift of children—
and not all are—nothing is more gratifying.
If we don’t, or can’t, have children,
or we’re beyond the age to have children,
it’s still true that what makes life meaningful
is not what we get for ourselves,
our financial security, our careers,
but how much we give ourselves away.
It’s hard—but it’s good.
The first reading from Genesis,
and the second, from Hebrews, make clear
that God believes we can do it!
God created us, not to be mere wild animals,
but something higher.
When God became a human being,
he became "lower than the angels"—but in doing so,
he lifted us up higher than the angels!
Did you know that?
You and I are higher than the angels,
because we call God—Jesus—our brother!
God became man to walk the path of the Cross.
He knew we already faced it;
he came to make it a path of salvation for us.
The Cross is not easy! Nothing is harder.
But it is the path of salvation—
it is the way that leads to true Life.
Yes, it’s hard—but it’s good.
Friday, October 06, 2006
When your head is full of goo . . . what do you do?
I sit at home and drink Iced Tea and eat fruit and an occasional brownie; the other night I ordered extra spicy Chinese food -- that helps too.
Monday, October 02, 2006
College Football and Hezbollah
Last weekend, I had the privilege of traveling to South Bend, Indiana, for the Purdue at Notre Dame football game. It was a very long day -- the principal, and a parishioner, and I left long before dawn, so we could arrive on campus before 9 am, for good parking, and didn't get home till after 11:30 pm -- but what fun!
We sat behind the student section, which just added to the energy of course; and we had plenty of time to walk about campus, to visit the Grotto, to admire and pray in the Basilica, to meet fellow alumni (not to me, but to my traveling companions) and to enjoy bratwursts, snacks and cold beverages.
And, of course, to enjoy the game itself, and what fun that was!
Well, observing the college kids, just below our seats, cheering and responding largely in unison, I found myself making a mental comparison to the frightening images we see on TV or online, of young men of similar age, likewise responding in unison to the promptings of Hezbollah, Hamas, al Qaeda and other evil organizations.
Now I am not saying college sports is like Hezbollah! Gimme a break! What I'm saying is that in one part of the world, young men, full of energy and drive, get caught up in something innocent and fun; in another part of the world, they get caught up in something wicked. The commonalities are: (a) young men of a particular age group and (b) an emotional, group experience.
Why even talk about the two in the same thought?
Well, because it occurs to me that, first, it is natural for young men (and perhaps young women of the same age group) to respond with enthusiasm to a group cause. There's nothing wrong with that; it's a good thing. The key is what kind of cause. There is a reason, it seems to me (and this observation is not original to me) that such young men are, in times of peril, drafted into combat. It is necessary, in such events, to marshall large groups of men in a common cause, and to have them respond with intensity.
This gives rise to a contrast, and this brings me to my point.
It seems to me a very good thing that in America, and many other places, this energy is harnessed . . . innocuously. So all these young men were chanting, "We are ND!" Nothing at all wrong with that. Nothing sinister; nothing scary. Just fun.
Is it possible that this phenomenon of young men is part of the reason Hezbollah and like groups can get young men to march around in Lebanon, chanting things like "death to Zionists" and "death to America" and who knows what else? Is it possible that for some number of them, their initial participation is of a similar quality? (I emphasize "initial" in that last sentence, because this makes all the difference between the phenomena I am comparing; in the latter case, the "cheerleaders" are seeking to induct these young men into something hateful, destructive and wicked.)
What merit can this observation have?
Well, it raises the question of what might be helpful in defusing the extremism that represents a real threat to safety and liberty in our world. How many of the young men drawn into al Qaeda and Hamas and Hezbollah and I don't know what other evil forces, might -- in an alternate universe, or perhaps in a happy future -- be happily cheering from the sidelines of their favorite football team?
I happen not to think this is simply a matter of establishing an American-style University of Fallujah and a Mideast Big-10 Conference or something like that. There's certainly more to it. My points are more subtle:
1. Young men and young people have admirable zeal; if it's currently harnessed, in the U.S., to college football, that's not all bad.
2. If need be, these young people in this country have amply demonstrated they will harness it to more enduring causes -- if we ask them or give them the opportunity. So don't put 'em down as merely "decadent, privileged youth."
3. Given the right context of culture, personal, religious and civic values, these young people's zeal will tend in a more healthy and positive -- or at least, harmless -- direction; given a different context, in a malevolent direction.
4. It may well be in our interest, as Americans, as citizens of "the West," and as folks of who simply want a future not darkened by terror's threat, to attend to point number 3. My example of "University of Fallujah," belonging to the Mideast Big 10 may sound silly to us; but something like that actually be part of a happier future, both for the Mideast, for us, and the world.
5. I.e., how about a broad, "middle-class"-ification of the broad swath of the world, from, say North Africa to somewhere in Asia, that seems to be the breeding ground for all this seething, murderous groupthink in service to an extremist Islamic movement?
What do you say?
We sat behind the student section, which just added to the energy of course; and we had plenty of time to walk about campus, to visit the Grotto, to admire and pray in the Basilica, to meet fellow alumni (not to me, but to my traveling companions) and to enjoy bratwursts, snacks and cold beverages.
And, of course, to enjoy the game itself, and what fun that was!
Well, observing the college kids, just below our seats, cheering and responding largely in unison, I found myself making a mental comparison to the frightening images we see on TV or online, of young men of similar age, likewise responding in unison to the promptings of Hezbollah, Hamas, al Qaeda and other evil organizations.
Now I am not saying college sports is like Hezbollah! Gimme a break! What I'm saying is that in one part of the world, young men, full of energy and drive, get caught up in something innocent and fun; in another part of the world, they get caught up in something wicked. The commonalities are: (a) young men of a particular age group and (b) an emotional, group experience.
Why even talk about the two in the same thought?
Well, because it occurs to me that, first, it is natural for young men (and perhaps young women of the same age group) to respond with enthusiasm to a group cause. There's nothing wrong with that; it's a good thing. The key is what kind of cause. There is a reason, it seems to me (and this observation is not original to me) that such young men are, in times of peril, drafted into combat. It is necessary, in such events, to marshall large groups of men in a common cause, and to have them respond with intensity.
This gives rise to a contrast, and this brings me to my point.
It seems to me a very good thing that in America, and many other places, this energy is harnessed . . . innocuously. So all these young men were chanting, "We are ND!" Nothing at all wrong with that. Nothing sinister; nothing scary. Just fun.
Is it possible that this phenomenon of young men is part of the reason Hezbollah and like groups can get young men to march around in Lebanon, chanting things like "death to Zionists" and "death to America" and who knows what else? Is it possible that for some number of them, their initial participation is of a similar quality? (I emphasize "initial" in that last sentence, because this makes all the difference between the phenomena I am comparing; in the latter case, the "cheerleaders" are seeking to induct these young men into something hateful, destructive and wicked.)
What merit can this observation have?
Well, it raises the question of what might be helpful in defusing the extremism that represents a real threat to safety and liberty in our world. How many of the young men drawn into al Qaeda and Hamas and Hezbollah and I don't know what other evil forces, might -- in an alternate universe, or perhaps in a happy future -- be happily cheering from the sidelines of their favorite football team?
I happen not to think this is simply a matter of establishing an American-style University of Fallujah and a Mideast Big-10 Conference or something like that. There's certainly more to it. My points are more subtle:
1. Young men and young people have admirable zeal; if it's currently harnessed, in the U.S., to college football, that's not all bad.
2. If need be, these young people in this country have amply demonstrated they will harness it to more enduring causes -- if we ask them or give them the opportunity. So don't put 'em down as merely "decadent, privileged youth."
3. Given the right context of culture, personal, religious and civic values, these young people's zeal will tend in a more healthy and positive -- or at least, harmless -- direction; given a different context, in a malevolent direction.
4. It may well be in our interest, as Americans, as citizens of "the West," and as folks of who simply want a future not darkened by terror's threat, to attend to point number 3. My example of "University of Fallujah," belonging to the Mideast Big 10 may sound silly to us; but something like that actually be part of a happier future, both for the Mideast, for us, and the world.
5. I.e., how about a broad, "middle-class"-ification of the broad swath of the world, from, say North Africa to somewhere in Asia, that seems to be the breeding ground for all this seething, murderous groupthink in service to an extremist Islamic movement?
What do you say?
Sunday, October 01, 2006
'Go Overboard' (Sunday homily)
You’ve heard the expression:
“Don’t go overboard.”
That first reading shows us folks
getting doused in the Holy Spirit,
“and they prophesied.”
If 70 of you jumped up
and started prophesying at Mass…
I think folks would say,
“you went overboard.”
Even so…
I’ve been to college
and high school football games;
I’ve prayed with the football team beforehand.
The intensity the guys bring to the game
is impressive—and it can be a little scary!
Nothing wrong with that!
They need that intensity to play well and win!
There’s an election coming up—
we may be intense about that.
But if can “go overboard” for a football game—
even from our Lazyboys!—or for an election,
then shouldn’t we have that kind of intensity
in our relationship to Jesus Christ?
It’s not about whether we “go overboard,”
but what we’ll go overboard, for.
We heard about the Holy Spirit poured out
on the 70 elders in the first reading;
you realize, that happens to each of us
in baptism and confirmation!
Moses said: would that everyone
received that Spirit!
That is fulfilled in our Catholic Church.
Jesus promised his Spirit would guide
the teaching of his Church.
So as we prepare for that election,
we do so guided by the Church’s teaching.
That expression—“Don’t go overboard”—
literally means, don’t fall out of the boat!
You and I don’t want
to get so invested in a cause,
or our own, personal issues,
that we fall out of the boat of Peter—the Church.
As we have that election in mind,
the Apostle James, in the second reading,
gives us some things to think about.
In his time, rich and poor
were much more fixed categories.
So he was saying to the rich—
you have to help the poor,
because if you won’t, who will?
That’s still true, but in a different way, today.
Today, the question is,
how do we provide opportunities
for people to escape poverty,
as well as helping those in poverty.
Some say, “pass a law raising the minimum wage.”
Others say, “that’s the wrong way to do it—
better is to create more jobs.”
We will disagree on the method;
But St. James warns us, woe to us if we
think it’s not our problem!
Woe to us if we think
the fate of the weakest members
of our human family aren’t our problem:
St. James says, you live in luxury and pleasure,
while the innocent are murdered.
It is a scandal that our society,
the wealthiest in history,
says it has no room:
* for the unborn…
* for immigrants…
* for children and adults with disabilities…
* for the elderly all those who need medical care.
You’ve heard about “embryonic stem-cell research”—
and everyone is for more “research”
that might find cures for disease.
Everyone is for more research, more discovery.
The question is, how do you do it?
Should newly conceived, unborn children die
as the price of that research?
That’s what all the controversy is about.
It’s not, research v. no-research;
it’s one method, in which children die,
vs. research where no one has to die.
Did you know that we can do—and are doing—
“stem-cell” research that harms no one?
It’s already happening, and showing results.
Did you know that?
The Church endorses this form of “stem-cell” research;
but we oppose any research
that destroys a tiny, embryonic human being!
That point isn’t made clear in the media, is it?
You see, the same teaching that says,
“everyone counts, no matter how poor,”
also says, “everyone counts, no matter how small.”
And human lives count,
even when they commit terrible crimes.
When the terrorists struck on 9/11,
I was angry—as you were.
I wanted those men to go to hell!
But I was wrong; and I repented of that.
No question, some crimes are so terrible
that they deserve death.
Church teaching still holds that the death penalty
can be used, in extreme circumstances.
But a different question is,
do we want to be a society
that resorts to a death penalty?
Our late holy father, Pope John Paul II,
said that for modern, western societies,
the circumstances justifying the death penalty
are virtually non-existent.
I think the pope’s point
was for us to ask ourselves,
not—do they deserve to die?—but rather,
do we really want to be people who kill?
In a world where life is already so cheap,
does this, on balance, really help?
Most of us get intense about something.
About that special someone we love;
About sports, or our careers,
about music, hobbies, or politics.
And that’s fine.
But what excuse can we have
for not feeling strongly about
the rights of every person, rich or poor,
American or foreign, young or old,
able-bodied or disabled, born or unborn.
Because when someone has fallen out,
or been pushed out, and they’re about to go under…
That’s when you and I need to go overboard.
“Don’t go overboard.”
That first reading shows us folks
getting doused in the Holy Spirit,
“and they prophesied.”
If 70 of you jumped up
and started prophesying at Mass…
I think folks would say,
“you went overboard.”
Even so…
I’ve been to college
and high school football games;
I’ve prayed with the football team beforehand.
The intensity the guys bring to the game
is impressive—and it can be a little scary!
Nothing wrong with that!
They need that intensity to play well and win!
There’s an election coming up—
we may be intense about that.
But if can “go overboard” for a football game—
even from our Lazyboys!—or for an election,
then shouldn’t we have that kind of intensity
in our relationship to Jesus Christ?
It’s not about whether we “go overboard,”
but what we’ll go overboard, for.
We heard about the Holy Spirit poured out
on the 70 elders in the first reading;
you realize, that happens to each of us
in baptism and confirmation!
Moses said: would that everyone
received that Spirit!
That is fulfilled in our Catholic Church.
Jesus promised his Spirit would guide
the teaching of his Church.
So as we prepare for that election,
we do so guided by the Church’s teaching.
That expression—“Don’t go overboard”—
literally means, don’t fall out of the boat!
You and I don’t want
to get so invested in a cause,
or our own, personal issues,
that we fall out of the boat of Peter—the Church.
As we have that election in mind,
the Apostle James, in the second reading,
gives us some things to think about.
In his time, rich and poor
were much more fixed categories.
So he was saying to the rich—
you have to help the poor,
because if you won’t, who will?
That’s still true, but in a different way, today.
Today, the question is,
how do we provide opportunities
for people to escape poverty,
as well as helping those in poverty.
Some say, “pass a law raising the minimum wage.”
Others say, “that’s the wrong way to do it—
better is to create more jobs.”
We will disagree on the method;
But St. James warns us, woe to us if we
think it’s not our problem!
Woe to us if we think
the fate of the weakest members
of our human family aren’t our problem:
St. James says, you live in luxury and pleasure,
while the innocent are murdered.
It is a scandal that our society,
the wealthiest in history,
says it has no room:
* for the unborn…
* for immigrants…
* for children and adults with disabilities…
* for the elderly all those who need medical care.
You’ve heard about “embryonic stem-cell research”—
and everyone is for more “research”
that might find cures for disease.
Everyone is for more research, more discovery.
The question is, how do you do it?
Should newly conceived, unborn children die
as the price of that research?
That’s what all the controversy is about.
It’s not, research v. no-research;
it’s one method, in which children die,
vs. research where no one has to die.
Did you know that we can do—and are doing—
“stem-cell” research that harms no one?
It’s already happening, and showing results.
Did you know that?
The Church endorses this form of “stem-cell” research;
but we oppose any research
that destroys a tiny, embryonic human being!
That point isn’t made clear in the media, is it?
You see, the same teaching that says,
“everyone counts, no matter how poor,”
also says, “everyone counts, no matter how small.”
And human lives count,
even when they commit terrible crimes.
When the terrorists struck on 9/11,
I was angry—as you were.
I wanted those men to go to hell!
But I was wrong; and I repented of that.
No question, some crimes are so terrible
that they deserve death.
Church teaching still holds that the death penalty
can be used, in extreme circumstances.
But a different question is,
do we want to be a society
that resorts to a death penalty?
Our late holy father, Pope John Paul II,
said that for modern, western societies,
the circumstances justifying the death penalty
are virtually non-existent.
I think the pope’s point
was for us to ask ourselves,
not—do they deserve to die?—but rather,
do we really want to be people who kill?
In a world where life is already so cheap,
does this, on balance, really help?
Most of us get intense about something.
About that special someone we love;
About sports, or our careers,
about music, hobbies, or politics.
And that’s fine.
But what excuse can we have
for not feeling strongly about
the rights of every person, rich or poor,
American or foreign, young or old,
able-bodied or disabled, born or unborn.
Because when someone has fallen out,
or been pushed out, and they’re about to go under…
That’s when you and I need to go overboard.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Advice to seminarians
I've noticed, along with the explosion of blogs of every sort, a number by seminarians discerning the priesthood. I've visited some of them, have some linked at your right, and seen posts from them, linked at other Catholic blogs.
Many of those seminarians visit here, and I'm delighted to have you.
But may I offer you gentlemen some advice?
Be careful about blogging!
This may seem obvious, however -- what you blog is visible to the world, including anyone in your diocese . . . including anyone who may have an agenda in your diocese . . .
I've seen blogging seminarians who boast how orthodox they are; who make it very clear they are traditional and conservative. I just visited a blog where the young man talked about heresy in one of the parishes he was involved with.
Be careful, gentlemen! You're asking for trouble...
Now, some might protest: "Shouldn't I speak up?"
Well, that depends. What did the Scripture say today: "a time for all things." There are times when you must speak up, as a seminarian; but there are many times when one feels one must -- but, on reflection, one needn't; and one might have done better to hold back. It happens to everyone of us, including seminarians with admirable zeal.
Do remember, my friends, that it is very unlikely you will face battles or choices, as a seminarian, that you won't be able to re-visit, and fight with more "heft," as a priest. In the meantime, you will learn a great many things that will not make you any less zealous, but certainly more prudent.
I don't want you to be false. Never say something you don't believe; never do something on your own initiative that you do not believe to be right.
On the other hand, there are times when you may have to remain silent; and while that can be galling, it is not necessarily a sell out. After all, in most situations, you will be acting under someone else's authority; so obeying that authority is legitimate. If that authority wants you to say something that is true, but perhaps incomplete, that need not be selling out -- and if you persevere, the time will come when you will have the authority to do it better. Then it will be your turn.
Seek out a priest -- or any friend -- who, regardless of whether you and he agree in all matters, you do hold to be a man of integrity, to be truly wise, and to have your best interests at heart, and to love the Church. He should be someone outside the seminary system. And confide in him. Let him be the one who cools you down when needed, or confirms you and gives you advice in prudence when you need to act.
Here's the thing.
Priests need to have quite a variety of gifts, including zeal, including holiness, including firmness and boldness, including orthodoxy and commitment to the Faith. But that is not the end of the list. We also need to be "gentle but ardent shepherds," as one of the collects in the Missal says; we need to be prudent, sensible, patient. We need to be able to choose our battles, because you will not be able to fight them all, at least not all at once. We need priests who can build bridges ("pontifex") to all we can. If I can find a way to proclaim the message faithfully, and keep that person who disagrees from walking out? I think that's the right way to be "pastoral."
You see, there are many temptations, and the most perilous ones are not obvious -- they are disguised as "angels of light." The temptation to be more certain than you really have right to be (I don't mean about the big things, but about more subtle matters, or about application rather than principle), the temptation to make the present situation more urgent and more unique than it is, the temptation to overestimate ones own importance (you will learn that when you've preached awhile: many listen well; but many will break your heart!)
Also, remember -- this was important to me -- that your primary task as a seminarian, is to learn and prepare. It's not your turn yet to lead. So wherever they send you: learn first; fix later. No matter how much good you do, you won't fix the whole Church -- learn to accept that fact.
Also, no matter what experiences you go through, at the seminary or anywhere else, they won't keep you from being the good, holy priest you aim to be!
If -- and please God, when -- you are a priest, you'll discover most of the faithful aren't fighting these theo-political battles. They have their own battles to fight, and whether they are conservative or liberal, what they want and will honor with extraordinary generosity and faith, are priests who lead, teach and sanctify them.
You will find, when you are a priest, that doing these "basic" things will occupy and satisfy you, with no compromise.
Many of those seminarians visit here, and I'm delighted to have you.
But may I offer you gentlemen some advice?
Be careful about blogging!
This may seem obvious, however -- what you blog is visible to the world, including anyone in your diocese . . . including anyone who may have an agenda in your diocese . . .
I've seen blogging seminarians who boast how orthodox they are; who make it very clear they are traditional and conservative. I just visited a blog where the young man talked about heresy in one of the parishes he was involved with.
Be careful, gentlemen! You're asking for trouble...
Now, some might protest: "Shouldn't I speak up?"
Well, that depends. What did the Scripture say today: "a time for all things." There are times when you must speak up, as a seminarian; but there are many times when one feels one must -- but, on reflection, one needn't; and one might have done better to hold back. It happens to everyone of us, including seminarians with admirable zeal.
Do remember, my friends, that it is very unlikely you will face battles or choices, as a seminarian, that you won't be able to re-visit, and fight with more "heft," as a priest. In the meantime, you will learn a great many things that will not make you any less zealous, but certainly more prudent.
I don't want you to be false. Never say something you don't believe; never do something on your own initiative that you do not believe to be right.
On the other hand, there are times when you may have to remain silent; and while that can be galling, it is not necessarily a sell out. After all, in most situations, you will be acting under someone else's authority; so obeying that authority is legitimate. If that authority wants you to say something that is true, but perhaps incomplete, that need not be selling out -- and if you persevere, the time will come when you will have the authority to do it better. Then it will be your turn.
Seek out a priest -- or any friend -- who, regardless of whether you and he agree in all matters, you do hold to be a man of integrity, to be truly wise, and to have your best interests at heart, and to love the Church. He should be someone outside the seminary system. And confide in him. Let him be the one who cools you down when needed, or confirms you and gives you advice in prudence when you need to act.
Here's the thing.
Priests need to have quite a variety of gifts, including zeal, including holiness, including firmness and boldness, including orthodoxy and commitment to the Faith. But that is not the end of the list. We also need to be "gentle but ardent shepherds," as one of the collects in the Missal says; we need to be prudent, sensible, patient. We need to be able to choose our battles, because you will not be able to fight them all, at least not all at once. We need priests who can build bridges ("pontifex") to all we can. If I can find a way to proclaim the message faithfully, and keep that person who disagrees from walking out? I think that's the right way to be "pastoral."
You see, there are many temptations, and the most perilous ones are not obvious -- they are disguised as "angels of light." The temptation to be more certain than you really have right to be (I don't mean about the big things, but about more subtle matters, or about application rather than principle), the temptation to make the present situation more urgent and more unique than it is, the temptation to overestimate ones own importance (you will learn that when you've preached awhile: many listen well; but many will break your heart!)
Also, remember -- this was important to me -- that your primary task as a seminarian, is to learn and prepare. It's not your turn yet to lead. So wherever they send you: learn first; fix later. No matter how much good you do, you won't fix the whole Church -- learn to accept that fact.
Also, no matter what experiences you go through, at the seminary or anywhere else, they won't keep you from being the good, holy priest you aim to be!
If -- and please God, when -- you are a priest, you'll discover most of the faithful aren't fighting these theo-political battles. They have their own battles to fight, and whether they are conservative or liberal, what they want and will honor with extraordinary generosity and faith, are priests who lead, teach and sanctify them.
You will find, when you are a priest, that doing these "basic" things will occupy and satisfy you, with no compromise.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
The pope's grand strategy?
Here is a fascinating, and I think very plausible, explanation of the pope's comments on faith, reason and violence that so stirred up certain peace-loving adherents of Islam.
Biretta tip to Sacramentum Vitae.
Meanwhile, Dennis Prager scores a direct hit on the pope's critics: Pius attacked for not confronting evil, Benedict attacked for confronting evil.
Biretta tip: Domenico Bettinelli.
Biretta tip to Sacramentum Vitae.
Meanwhile, Dennis Prager scores a direct hit on the pope's critics: Pius attacked for not confronting evil, Benedict attacked for confronting evil.
Biretta tip: Domenico Bettinelli.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Cruelty to roaches?
Other than being utterly revolting, will someone please explain the objection to this?
(Once again proves my thesis that in some sectors, parody must work extremely hard to stay ahead of straight-faced reality.)
(Once again proves my thesis that in some sectors, parody must work extremely hard to stay ahead of straight-faced reality.)
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Control--or the Cross? (Sunday homily)
A lot of folks struggle with anger and impatience.
They wonder where it comes from.
It’s this (the remote-control): control.
I don’t know about you,
but I am one of those people
who always has to have this remote control,
when I watch TV.
In truth, this “clicker” is only the illusion of control.
You point the remote—and nothing happens:
Do you feel frustration?
You surf through all the channels—ten times!—
only to complain, “there’s nothing on!”
As a recovering remote-hog, let me tell you a secret: those of us, who covet that remote, if we don’t have it,
we have a little twitch in our fingers—all the time!
You know why?
Because we wish we had a remote for everything!
And, in a lot of life’s events,
we point the remote we wished we had at things,
yet nothing happens…
And that’s when we get angry.
If you think this is only “a man thing,” it’s not.
Women and men both have ways of seeking control.
Either way, St. James’ message is the same:
You covet, but we do not possess:
Stop coveting control, if you want peace!
Admitting we are powerless is extremely hard.
This is the crucial, first step in AA
and other 12-Step programs.
And it is what holds many back.
How often we cling to the illusion we are in control
when in fact something is controlling us—
alcohol, drugs, food, work, pornography—
and we let everything fall apart around us,
before we admit we are pushing buttons to no effect!
On the other hand, we have the Cross.
The first reading, written 100 years before Jesus came,
describes what he would face;
and what you and I can expect by following him.
So don’t be surprised…
When our pope courageously identifies two problems:
In the West, we disconnect reason from faith;
In Islam, too many connect faith with violence…
No surprise when almost everyone cries out:
“Let us beset the just one,
because he is obnoxious to us”?
So don’t be surprised when
you speak out against the death penalty,
or call for compassion, when others demand blood…
and you get the same response.
It will happen on the playground—at work—
out with your friends on Friday or Saturday night—
And you speak a truth that is unwelcome.
Do you realize, the Just One—Jesus Christ—
is the only one who truly had a choice
between the remote and the Cross?
As God, he really has an all-purpose remote.
But God knows what you and I discover painfully:
This clicker kind of power won’t satisfy.
In our family, or workplace, we might pull it off:
we might achieve being the dictator,
or the puppet-master.
But it’s not so wonderful when
your spouse is beaten down,
your family walks on eggshells around you, and
your friends won’t tell you what you need to hear.
That may be power—but it’s not love.
And that’s why God put down his remote-control,
and took up the Cross!
When you and I face the great problems of our world,
We reach for that elusive remote-control.
Sometimes we do have to fight;
most of the time, we don’t have all the answers.
With all respect for our president—
he has a tough job, and we want him to succeed—
but does it ever seem
he’s just pointing that remote at Iraq,
and pressing the same buttons over and over?
Meanwhile, consider our holy father:
You know why he’s so fearless?
He’s not afraid of the Cross—he has nothing to lose!
The remote, and the Cross, are before us.
This is what our baptism means:
choosing the Cross, instead of the remote.
Confession is where
we put the remote back down again.
That’s why frequent confession is so helpful.
And in the Eucharist,
we discover that however alone we think we are,
we are not alone: Jesus—the Just One—
is honored to share our cross with us,
whatever it is.
In the Eucharist, we draw strength from him
who was fearless before the Cross.
The battles we face, the darkness we fear,
are certainly bigger than we are—
But they are certainly not bigger than He is!
This is the last week we’ll talk about stewardship.
Our basic act of stewardship is of ourselves—
our most basic choice in life.
What will it be? Control—or the Cross?
They wonder where it comes from.
It’s this (the remote-control): control.
I don’t know about you,
but I am one of those people
who always has to have this remote control,
when I watch TV.
In truth, this “clicker” is only the illusion of control.
You point the remote—and nothing happens:
Do you feel frustration?
You surf through all the channels—ten times!—
only to complain, “there’s nothing on!”
As a recovering remote-hog, let me tell you a secret: those of us, who covet that remote, if we don’t have it,
we have a little twitch in our fingers—all the time!
You know why?
Because we wish we had a remote for everything!
And, in a lot of life’s events,
we point the remote we wished we had at things,
yet nothing happens…
And that’s when we get angry.
If you think this is only “a man thing,” it’s not.
Women and men both have ways of seeking control.
Either way, St. James’ message is the same:
You covet, but we do not possess:
Stop coveting control, if you want peace!
Admitting we are powerless is extremely hard.
This is the crucial, first step in AA
and other 12-Step programs.
And it is what holds many back.
How often we cling to the illusion we are in control
when in fact something is controlling us—
alcohol, drugs, food, work, pornography—
and we let everything fall apart around us,
before we admit we are pushing buttons to no effect!
On the other hand, we have the Cross.
The first reading, written 100 years before Jesus came,
describes what he would face;
and what you and I can expect by following him.
So don’t be surprised…
When our pope courageously identifies two problems:
In the West, we disconnect reason from faith;
In Islam, too many connect faith with violence…
No surprise when almost everyone cries out:
“Let us beset the just one,
because he is obnoxious to us”?
So don’t be surprised when
you speak out against the death penalty,
or call for compassion, when others demand blood…
and you get the same response.
It will happen on the playground—at work—
out with your friends on Friday or Saturday night—
And you speak a truth that is unwelcome.
Do you realize, the Just One—Jesus Christ—
is the only one who truly had a choice
between the remote and the Cross?
As God, he really has an all-purpose remote.
But God knows what you and I discover painfully:
This clicker kind of power won’t satisfy.
In our family, or workplace, we might pull it off:
we might achieve being the dictator,
or the puppet-master.
But it’s not so wonderful when
your spouse is beaten down,
your family walks on eggshells around you, and
your friends won’t tell you what you need to hear.
That may be power—but it’s not love.
And that’s why God put down his remote-control,
and took up the Cross!
When you and I face the great problems of our world,
We reach for that elusive remote-control.
Sometimes we do have to fight;
most of the time, we don’t have all the answers.
With all respect for our president—
he has a tough job, and we want him to succeed—
but does it ever seem
he’s just pointing that remote at Iraq,
and pressing the same buttons over and over?
Meanwhile, consider our holy father:
You know why he’s so fearless?
He’s not afraid of the Cross—he has nothing to lose!
The remote, and the Cross, are before us.
This is what our baptism means:
choosing the Cross, instead of the remote.
Confession is where
we put the remote back down again.
That’s why frequent confession is so helpful.
And in the Eucharist,
we discover that however alone we think we are,
we are not alone: Jesus—the Just One—
is honored to share our cross with us,
whatever it is.
In the Eucharist, we draw strength from him
who was fearless before the Cross.
The battles we face, the darkness we fear,
are certainly bigger than we are—
But they are certainly not bigger than He is!
This is the last week we’ll talk about stewardship.
Our basic act of stewardship is of ourselves—
our most basic choice in life.
What will it be? Control—or the Cross?
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Has Canada no honour?
This morning, on NPR, I heard dispiriting news: our Canadian neighbors, and NATO allies, are questioning their commitment to completing the mission in Afghanistan. Of course, we've heard similiar things from other NATO allies.
Have they no honor?
May I remind all concerned that Afghanistan did attack the United States on September 11, 2001 -- that is to say, it provided a safe haven for those who did, and that does make it responsible.
On September 11, 2001, the NATO treaty was invoked, for the first time ever: "an attack upon one is an attack upon all."
I fully understand many of our allies are queasy about the war in Iraq. Many Americans, were and are, queasy about it as well. But Afghanistan was "the good war"--the war fully justified under classic moral principles; the Holy See agreed.
So responding to the aggression that was launched from the territory and with the connivance of Afghanistan was not only morally justified, for those who gave their word by treaty, it was morally necessary! I repeat: morally necessary!
A little refresher for those who don't know this...
For its entire history to now, the United States provided the major "heft" of the NATO alliance. NATO was formed out of the ashes of the Second World War, with the Atlantic alliance at its core; the need arose because of the rapid assertion of Soviet tyranny over roughly half of Europe. And for 35 years, NATO stood guard against any further Soviet aggression. The vast majority of the conventional forces, on the line, were American. To defend Europe--and the West.
I know, that may sound quaint to some; but it was a real threat for several decades.
For good or ill, the NATO allies did not consistently mobilize enough to match Soviet conventional forces, poised along the East-West German frontier. So the policy was--and this was fully public, everyone knew this--that if the outnumbered NATO forces could not contain a Soviet thrust, NATO would respond with theater nuclear weapons to stop the advance. That meant the Germans consented to their homeland being nuked.
But everyone understood that would almost certainly mean escalation--meaning nuclear attacks against both Russia and the U.S.
Realize what that means: for 35 years, the American people not only bore the burden of collective, conventional defense of the West, they also put their entire homeland on the line. (In fairness, as did the Germans, and likely the British. Did anyone else in NATO face risk similar destruction?)
And, like or not, it worked: NATO succeeded, and won the Cold War without firing a shot. Success by definition.
So as far as NATO is concerned, the American people gave their part.
When, at long last, an attack on a NATO ally came, and the treaty was invoked, it came not in Europe -- but here, in the U.S.
I submit that our allies have a debt of honor to help vanguish the Taliban, and rebuild Afghanistan--and that means more than holding the coats of Americans while they bleed and die.
I can't help recalling the scene in The Lord of the Rings, when the men of Rohan were called to assist Gondor, and Eomer cried:
"Now is the hour, Riders of Rohan! Oaths you have taken: now fulfill them all, for lord and for land!"
As the vastly outnumbered men of the west trembled before the gates of Mordor, Aragorn said:
"I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship...but it is not this day... this day we fight!"
Has the courage of Canada failed? So it would seem. -- OK, based on a commenter's point, let me rephrase my last line:
Has the courage of Canada failed? We shall see.
Have they no honor?
May I remind all concerned that Afghanistan did attack the United States on September 11, 2001 -- that is to say, it provided a safe haven for those who did, and that does make it responsible.
On September 11, 2001, the NATO treaty was invoked, for the first time ever: "an attack upon one is an attack upon all."
I fully understand many of our allies are queasy about the war in Iraq. Many Americans, were and are, queasy about it as well. But Afghanistan was "the good war"--the war fully justified under classic moral principles; the Holy See agreed.
So responding to the aggression that was launched from the territory and with the connivance of Afghanistan was not only morally justified, for those who gave their word by treaty, it was morally necessary! I repeat: morally necessary!
A little refresher for those who don't know this...
For its entire history to now, the United States provided the major "heft" of the NATO alliance. NATO was formed out of the ashes of the Second World War, with the Atlantic alliance at its core; the need arose because of the rapid assertion of Soviet tyranny over roughly half of Europe. And for 35 years, NATO stood guard against any further Soviet aggression. The vast majority of the conventional forces, on the line, were American. To defend Europe--and the West.
I know, that may sound quaint to some; but it was a real threat for several decades.
For good or ill, the NATO allies did not consistently mobilize enough to match Soviet conventional forces, poised along the East-West German frontier. So the policy was--and this was fully public, everyone knew this--that if the outnumbered NATO forces could not contain a Soviet thrust, NATO would respond with theater nuclear weapons to stop the advance. That meant the Germans consented to their homeland being nuked.
But everyone understood that would almost certainly mean escalation--meaning nuclear attacks against both Russia and the U.S.
Realize what that means: for 35 years, the American people not only bore the burden of collective, conventional defense of the West, they also put their entire homeland on the line. (In fairness, as did the Germans, and likely the British. Did anyone else in NATO face risk similar destruction?)
And, like or not, it worked: NATO succeeded, and won the Cold War without firing a shot. Success by definition.
So as far as NATO is concerned, the American people gave their part.
When, at long last, an attack on a NATO ally came, and the treaty was invoked, it came not in Europe -- but here, in the U.S.
I submit that our allies have a debt of honor to help vanguish the Taliban, and rebuild Afghanistan--and that means more than holding the coats of Americans while they bleed and die.
I can't help recalling the scene in The Lord of the Rings, when the men of Rohan were called to assist Gondor, and Eomer cried:
"Now is the hour, Riders of Rohan! Oaths you have taken: now fulfill them all, for lord and for land!"
As the vastly outnumbered men of the west trembled before the gates of Mordor, Aragorn said:
"I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship...but it is not this day... this day we fight!"
Has the courage of Canada failed? So it would seem. -- OK, based on a commenter's point, let me rephrase my last line:
Has the courage of Canada failed? We shall see.
Our Lady of Victory, Pray for us!
In case you missed it, Our Lady's team just won in a stunning upset. The fans at Michigan State -- who nonetheless saw quite a game -- are still staring blankly at the field in disbelief. The Irish trailed the entire game, got several improbable breaks and turnovers, stormed back with 19 points to win 40-37.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Not 'Success' but Faithfulness (Sunday homily)
Are these hard times? So it seems.
Our local community faces difficult times;
our nation and our world
faces so much uncertainty.
And it is difficult to be Catholic.
You have had leaders who failed to lead;
priests who failed to be holy.
I am very sorry about that.
Difficult times for all of us—
the values of our culture
are not Christian values!
The lust for vengeance and wrath
is not a Christian value;
Measuring our worth by material success
is not a Christian value.
In fact, the very idea of “success,” itself…
is not a Christian value!
What do we mean by “success”?
How do we measure it? With numbers!
Attendance goes up, dollars go up,
more programs, more people—
that’s our idea of success.
Notice, Jesus Christ didn’t operate that way!
The Apostles counted heads—
remember, they counted
how many ate bread and fish?
They were the first pastors.
We count: how many came to Mass!
But look again at the episode in today’s Gospel.
This was a decisive moment
for Peter and the Apostles.
Peter made his profession of faith:
“You are the Christ.”
As the leader, he led the Apostles
to this act of faith;
but there was another step,
and that’s where he stumbled:
on the worldly notion of “success.”
When the Lord revealed what would happen—
he would suffer and die—
Peter was embarrassed and confused
because that didn’t sound like success.
The Lord spun on him and called him Satan—
not to condemn him,
but it was like throwing cold water on him—
to shock him into realizing how off-track he was.
“You aren’t seeing as God sees.”
The supreme moment of success for the Lord wasn’t…
· When he had thousands of people
come to him for miracles and healings;
· When he drove the money-changers from the Temple;
· When he won arguments with his opponents;
· Nor, even when he gained converts!
No, the supreme moment of his success
was on the Cross. Only then did he say “It is finished!”
So, instead of “success,” the goal is faithfulness.
Jesus was faithful to the plan of salvation
he and the Father had made before time began.
He was faithful to the Apostles,
with them every day,
and his goal was to enable them to be faithful
when their turn came.
So don’t look for the secret of success,
but rather, the secret of faithfulness.
And how did Jesus do it?
He walked with the Apostles, day-by-day.
The “secret” is a deep, living relationship
with Jesus Christ!
That was his “leadership program” for the Apostles;
what he said was important, but secondary;
their being with him was primary.
Everything else flowed from that.
And, of course, union with him would, ultimately,
mean sharing his suffering and death—
because it meant sharing his purpose:
the salvation of the world!
And you don’t get that,
you don’t care enough about that,
unless you spend time with him—
and know Jesus personally.
Unless you know him…
Ø Not as a “wise teacher”
Ø Not as “a prophet”
Ø Not as a philosophy or a lifestyle…
But as he truly is: true God, the source of all life,
come in our midst to save us!
Then it makes sense, even the Cross!
We all face it; knowing him deeply,
we dare to embrace it!
Yes, these are difficult times.
So many things drawing us away.
And we are tempted to be discouraged;
but remember—
you and I have no right to be discouraged!
That is the trap Peter fell into:
seeing with human values, not God’s.
One of the reasons we need the Cross
is that all of those worldly ways of thinking—
all our notions of success,
all our attraction to what is passing away,
all our pride that is offended by not being “successful”—
it all has to nailed to the cross!
Then only one thing is left:
our heart, joined to the heart of God: Jesus Christ!
We’ve been talking about “stewardship”:
truly appreciating what we have,
and being truly free to share it, give it away.
Stewardship is about the right priorities:
are we about success in this world?
Or do we fix our eyes on the far horizon:
success as God measures it,
even if this world calls it “failure”?
Making our goal, not “success,” but faithfulness;
Letting him crucify all our worldly expectations,
Having what the Apostles had: being with Jesus,
day-by-day, allowing him
to nourish our lives with his life,
his Holy Spirit—deep reservoirs of his life in us…
Then, we won’t find the times and challenges difficult;
We’ll find them thrilling.
Our local community faces difficult times;
our nation and our world
faces so much uncertainty.
And it is difficult to be Catholic.
You have had leaders who failed to lead;
priests who failed to be holy.
I am very sorry about that.
Difficult times for all of us—
the values of our culture
are not Christian values!
The lust for vengeance and wrath
is not a Christian value;
Measuring our worth by material success
is not a Christian value.
In fact, the very idea of “success,” itself…
is not a Christian value!
What do we mean by “success”?
How do we measure it? With numbers!
Attendance goes up, dollars go up,
more programs, more people—
that’s our idea of success.
Notice, Jesus Christ didn’t operate that way!
The Apostles counted heads—
remember, they counted
how many ate bread and fish?
They were the first pastors.
We count: how many came to Mass!
But look again at the episode in today’s Gospel.
This was a decisive moment
for Peter and the Apostles.
Peter made his profession of faith:
“You are the Christ.”
As the leader, he led the Apostles
to this act of faith;
but there was another step,
and that’s where he stumbled:
on the worldly notion of “success.”
When the Lord revealed what would happen—
he would suffer and die—
Peter was embarrassed and confused
because that didn’t sound like success.
The Lord spun on him and called him Satan—
not to condemn him,
but it was like throwing cold water on him—
to shock him into realizing how off-track he was.
“You aren’t seeing as God sees.”
The supreme moment of success for the Lord wasn’t…
· When he had thousands of people
come to him for miracles and healings;
· When he drove the money-changers from the Temple;
· When he won arguments with his opponents;
· Nor, even when he gained converts!
No, the supreme moment of his success
was on the Cross. Only then did he say “It is finished!”
So, instead of “success,” the goal is faithfulness.
Jesus was faithful to the plan of salvation
he and the Father had made before time began.
He was faithful to the Apostles,
with them every day,
and his goal was to enable them to be faithful
when their turn came.
So don’t look for the secret of success,
but rather, the secret of faithfulness.
And how did Jesus do it?
He walked with the Apostles, day-by-day.
The “secret” is a deep, living relationship
with Jesus Christ!
That was his “leadership program” for the Apostles;
what he said was important, but secondary;
their being with him was primary.
Everything else flowed from that.
And, of course, union with him would, ultimately,
mean sharing his suffering and death—
because it meant sharing his purpose:
the salvation of the world!
And you don’t get that,
you don’t care enough about that,
unless you spend time with him—
and know Jesus personally.
Unless you know him…
Ø Not as a “wise teacher”
Ø Not as “a prophet”
Ø Not as a philosophy or a lifestyle…
But as he truly is: true God, the source of all life,
come in our midst to save us!
Then it makes sense, even the Cross!
We all face it; knowing him deeply,
we dare to embrace it!
Yes, these are difficult times.
So many things drawing us away.
And we are tempted to be discouraged;
but remember—
you and I have no right to be discouraged!
That is the trap Peter fell into:
seeing with human values, not God’s.
One of the reasons we need the Cross
is that all of those worldly ways of thinking—
all our notions of success,
all our attraction to what is passing away,
all our pride that is offended by not being “successful”—
it all has to nailed to the cross!
Then only one thing is left:
our heart, joined to the heart of God: Jesus Christ!
We’ve been talking about “stewardship”:
truly appreciating what we have,
and being truly free to share it, give it away.
Stewardship is about the right priorities:
are we about success in this world?
Or do we fix our eyes on the far horizon:
success as God measures it,
even if this world calls it “failure”?
Making our goal, not “success,” but faithfulness;
Letting him crucify all our worldly expectations,
Having what the Apostles had: being with Jesus,
day-by-day, allowing him
to nourish our lives with his life,
his Holy Spirit—deep reservoirs of his life in us…
Then, we won’t find the times and challenges difficult;
We’ll find them thrilling.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
The true history of the spread of Islam
Sadly, all was peaceful and a garden of delights for the peaceful prophet and his followers until suddenly, one day in the 7th century, the armies of Byzantium, led by the pope, landed at Acre and marched to Arabia, and at the point of the sword, demanded the prophet (blessed be he!) comply to their outrageous demands. The peaceloving followers of the great prophet gathered around to witness the shocking scene:
"You are the prophet of Islam?"
"Yes."
"We demand that you invade our lands; form armies and sweep across North Africa; then we will gladly renounce our faith and become Muslim," bellowed Pope Leo the Great.
"Oh, but that would be intolerable . . . I wish only to pray here, seeking inner purity and peace with the Almighty..."
"Then you shall die, and all your contemptible, peace-loving people," threatened the Emperor Constantine.
"Oh, no, that is horrible!"
"Then you must comply: conquer us, and we shall happily convert."
"Oh, goodness, what shall I do? North Africa, you say?"
"And the Levant -- it is intolerable that you would fail to invade the land of Jesus' life, death and resurrection," insisted Emperor Justinian.
"Oh, the insolence! Anything else, you wicked intruders?"
"Yes--you must also then seek to destroy the Christian power of Constantinople, and conquer it. You must desecrate the Hagia Sophia..."
"Oh, no! No! I will not listen to this! It is unspeakable!"
"You will listen," growled General Belisarius. "You will conquer the Empire--and then, you will invade Europe..."
"But, but I could never do that--it would take so long..."
"Centuries."
"This is intolerable. Kill me if you must; I cannot embrace any violence."
"Very well; and when we have slain you, we shall slay all around you--to the last--unless you comply with our demands," Charlemagne decreed, as Baldwin, Louis and Richard all nodded vigorously.
The prophet (peace be upon him!) contemplated, not his own terrible fate, but that of the tens of thousands around him, who knew no violence, nor even the use of a weapon. For they were but like children, innocent and unknowing any evil desire. But under the intense, cruel pressure of the Christian invaders, he allowed them to guide his people in the fashioning and mastering of weapons.
And so it was, some months later, that large groupings of peace-loving Muslims were marched--at the point of Crusader swords --out of Arabia, to sweep across the Levant, North Africa, and into Asia Minor. Behold the tragic scene! These reluctant warriors, weeping as they went, scandalized that the wicked Christians forced them to invade and conquer!
Even more terrible was the sight of Christians, as the coerced invaders were marched westward, who approached the conscripts, and actually threw themselves upon the scimitars. "No, don't do this! Islam is about peace! Let us set up an information center, and then we can go home!"
"Fa! Shut up, infidels! Do not prevent us from self-destruction!" And so it was, in city after city, Christians died by the scimitar, the wretched, peace-loving Islamic armies unwilling participants, and out of compassion for the misguided Christians, decided to stay.
"You are the prophet of Islam?"
"Yes."
"We demand that you invade our lands; form armies and sweep across North Africa; then we will gladly renounce our faith and become Muslim," bellowed Pope Leo the Great.
"Oh, but that would be intolerable . . . I wish only to pray here, seeking inner purity and peace with the Almighty..."
"Then you shall die, and all your contemptible, peace-loving people," threatened the Emperor Constantine.
"Oh, no, that is horrible!"
"Then you must comply: conquer us, and we shall happily convert."
"Oh, goodness, what shall I do? North Africa, you say?"
"And the Levant -- it is intolerable that you would fail to invade the land of Jesus' life, death and resurrection," insisted Emperor Justinian.
"Oh, the insolence! Anything else, you wicked intruders?"
"Yes--you must also then seek to destroy the Christian power of Constantinople, and conquer it. You must desecrate the Hagia Sophia..."
"Oh, no! No! I will not listen to this! It is unspeakable!"
"You will listen," growled General Belisarius. "You will conquer the Empire--and then, you will invade Europe..."
"But, but I could never do that--it would take so long..."
"Centuries."
"This is intolerable. Kill me if you must; I cannot embrace any violence."
"Very well; and when we have slain you, we shall slay all around you--to the last--unless you comply with our demands," Charlemagne decreed, as Baldwin, Louis and Richard all nodded vigorously.
The prophet (peace be upon him!) contemplated, not his own terrible fate, but that of the tens of thousands around him, who knew no violence, nor even the use of a weapon. For they were but like children, innocent and unknowing any evil desire. But under the intense, cruel pressure of the Christian invaders, he allowed them to guide his people in the fashioning and mastering of weapons.
And so it was, some months later, that large groupings of peace-loving Muslims were marched--at the point of Crusader swords --out of Arabia, to sweep across the Levant, North Africa, and into Asia Minor. Behold the tragic scene! These reluctant warriors, weeping as they went, scandalized that the wicked Christians forced them to invade and conquer!
Even more terrible was the sight of Christians, as the coerced invaders were marched westward, who approached the conscripts, and actually threw themselves upon the scimitars. "No, don't do this! Islam is about peace! Let us set up an information center, and then we can go home!"
"Fa! Shut up, infidels! Do not prevent us from self-destruction!" And so it was, in city after city, Christians died by the scimitar, the wretched, peace-loving Islamic armies unwilling participants, and out of compassion for the misguided Christians, decided to stay.
They asked for talk on the Synoptic Gospels...
These are exerpts of a talk I gave today about the Synoptic Gospels, at a religious education event.
Why are the first three Gospels called "synoptic"?
Because they "are so similar at many points when viewed together, particularly when arranged in parallel columns or lines, that they are called ‘synoptic,’ the Greek work for such a general view. The fourth Gospel…often differs significantly from the synoptics in outline and approach" (Catholic Study Bible, NT, p. 2).
While this is a valid observation, there are downsides to viewing the Gospels this way, too -- because in emphasizing how they are similar, what's distinctive about each may get lost.
Since there’s no way -- in an hour! -- I can do much in-depth examination of the Gospels themselves, I’ve chosen to give you some general pointers and suggestions for when you are dealing with these texts.
And the first thing I’d like to suggest is, be careful when dealing with "scholarship."
When I was in the seminary, I had a course in principles of religious education, taught by Father Ron Nuzzi, who some of you may have heard speak from time to time. And he had a saying that he drilled into our heads: "If you don’t know the language, don’t use the language!" It’s tempting to cite words in Spanish, or Latin, or Greek or Hebrew, and so forth—but if you aren’t really conversant in that language, you can’t know if you’re even pronouncing it right! So his advice is stay away from the foreign language, and stick to what you know.
Well, I’d apply that to the scholarship that is associated with Biblical studies.
We all know there’s a lot of scholarship associated with Scripture. But the problem is, it’s changing all the time.
For example: Who can tell me which Gospel was written first?
Most scholars argue that Mark was written first. And I am in no position to contest that. But who was aware that many serious scholars do challenge that? Who’s right? I don’t know; and for most of my purposes, as a priest, I don’t need to know! Is it an interesting question? Yes. Does it have real implications? Yes—it bears on the question of who composed Matthew—because if Matthew was composed after Mark, and drew heavily on Mark, the reasonable question, why would the Apostle Matthew need to rely on Mark?
This is what is called "the synoptic problem." How did these three Gospels, similar in so many ways, come into being—which came first, how did they influence each other, etc.?
This is the sort of thing that might keep scholars up late at night—but I don’t see why it should keep me or you up late! Or those you are teaching!
We believe they are the Word of God. We believe what the Second Vatican Council said in Dei Verbum:
The Church has always and everywhere held and continues to hold that the four Gospels are of apostolic origin. For what the Apostles preached in fulfillment of the commission of Christ, afterwards they themselves and apostolic men, under the inspiration of the divine Spirit, handed on to us in writing: the foundation of faith, namely, the fourfold Gospel, according to Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. (18)
And:
Holy Mother Church has firmly and with absolute constancy held, and continues to hold, that the four Gospels just named, whose historical character the Church unhesitatingly asserts, faithfully hand on what Jesus Christ, while living among men, really did and taught for their eternal salvation until the day He was taken up into heaven (see Acts 1:1). . . . The sacred authors wrote the four Gospels, selecting some things from the many which had been handed on by word of mouth or in writing, reducing some of them to a synthesis, explaining some things in view of the situation of their churches and preserving the form of proclamation but always in such fashion that they told us the honest truth about Jesus. For their intention in writing was that either from their own memory and recollections, or from the witness of those who "themselves from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the Word" we might know "the truth" concerning those matters about which we have been instructed (see Luke 1:2-4). (Dei Verbum, 19.)
So, there are legitimate scholarly questions about who actually wrote the Gospels—did Matthew himself write his Gospel, or did someone else put on paper what originated from him?
But sometimes people assert more than they know. For example—have you heard the claim that Paul didn’t write all the letters bearing his name?
It’s one thing to say, it may be that Paul didn’t write Ephesians himself; it’s quite another to assert, Paul DID NOT write Ephesians!
My point is, for most folks, this isn’t helpful. And getting into this runs the risk of becoming pseudo-scholarship—because while you or I may be familiar with part of the scholarship: "Mark came first" or "Paul didn’t write Colossians"—we may not be as familiar with the other parts: "No, Matthew really did come first" or, "maybe Paul really did write 1 & 2 Timothy"!
I make this point because, unfortunately, a lot of the materials you may be using will claim—flat out—that Peter didn’t write 2nd Peter; Paul did not write Ephesians, etc. And I’m saying, that’s more than they can know! They weren’t there! That a majority of scholars thinks something is true is significant, but that doesn’t settle the matter—if for no other reason that the scholarship is always subject to change.
Second guideline I’d offer is, be aware of presuppositions.
Any materials you use have certain presuppositions. I have my own, and if you ask me about them, I’ll do my best to identify and acknowledge them.
Here's one rule I use with Scripture:
1. Beware of the presupposition that the human authors were sloppy or inattentive.
In the Catholic Study Bible, in the note on Matthew 15:32—the account of the feeding of the four thousand, the second story in Matthew of a miraculous feeding—we read: "Most probably this story is a doublet of that of the feeding of five thousand (14:13-21). It differs from notably only [emphasis added] in that Jesus takes the initiative, not the disciples (32), and in the numbers: the crowd had been with Jesus three days (32), seven loaves are multiplied (36), seven baskets of fragments remain after the feeding (37), and four thousand men are fed (38)."
Now—what are some presuppositions in that commentary? Can you pick them out?
One is: that these differences in detail are not that big a deal: "only"! Now, this may be true; or, it could be these details are not peripheral, but very significant.
Matthew and Mark both tell of these two feedings, one shortly after the other. Let me ask you: when Matthew (or whoever wrote this Gospel) actually penned these words, and sometime after he wrote this story of the 5,000, he wrote the story of 4,000, do you think he noticed what the person who wrote that commentary noticed? Did Matthew not notice all the similarities?
Some will say, "yes, and look at Chapter 16 of Matthew": there—in vv. 5-12—Jesus refers to both feedings—and some will say, that’s how the human author "fixed" this "problem."
What’s the presupposition there?
That there is a problem!
Or, put it this way—is the problem in the text—or in the one reading the text!
Why assume the problem is with the text? There are two stories here—have to be duplication!
But if you actually look at the text, it treats them as two different episodes, and Jesus himself calls attention to them as two episodes, and highlights differences in each.
What I think is happening here is the commentator can’t figure out why this story is "told twice"—so it has to be "a doublet"!
So you get the presupposition that the human author is inattentive or sloppy. Personally, I think its more probable that the human author, who clearly worked hard on this -- and, by the way, when you read these Gospels closely, you discover just how hard they worked, how well informed they were with Scripture, because they quote it and allude to it constantly…
Anyway, I think it’s more probable the author didn’t make the mistake; but rather, the commentator makes the mistake in not figuring out why these stories are told twice.
Did it actually happen once—twice—or many times? None of us knows that.
What we have is the text presents it as two different episodes.
My presupposition is to take the text as the norm and not try to "outsmart" the text!
Let me highlight some interesting things in these two stories, and see what we might make of them:
In the first story, the crowds followed Jesus on foot.
In the second, it emphasizes they brought "the lame, the blind, the deformed, the mute and many others." The first account merely says, "he cured their sick." Could be the same; or it could be, in the second occasion, they made an effort to bring folks.
In the first, we aren’t certain where he was, except he withdrew "in a boat" to a deserted place; in the second, it says, Jesus walked by the Sea of Galilee"—no mention of a boat—and he went up on a mountain. Ah—a mountain!--there’s another detail not mentioned in the first story. And in Matthew, and in Mark, "up a mountain" is a significant detail: remember the "Sermon on the Mount" in Matthew? Remember the transfiguration happened on a mountain?
So the first story describes Jesus alone, in a boat, crossing over—and there the people are waiting for him; the second describes him walking, and they follow him. And it emphasizes the people needing healing they brought. It also emphasizes the effect of the healing: "The crowds were amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the deformed made whole, the lame walking…and they glorified the God of Israel."
Why might that reference—"God of Israel" be notable? Look at the text—where was Jesus right before this? He was in Tyre and Sidon—among Gentiles! There is yet another detail belonging to the second account, that is not specified in the first.
OK—let’s continue examining these two accounts…
In the first, as we saw, the disciples approached Jesus—why? What did they urge? Send them away.
Now—we’re considering the question, are these two separate events, or a duplication. Let’s assume, for now, it is one episode, told twice. Notice, in the second account, what comes right before it? The story of the Canaanite woman—a pagan—who encounters Jesus. Look at v. 23, and see what the disciples said there: "Send her away"! And this story, to a great extent, is about this question—will Jesus send her away? And the answer is, no—he doesn’t.
So notice how Matthew tells the story: the apostles say, at the first feeding, "dismiss them" -- send them away; then they say it again with the Canaanite woman, but the Lord actually heals her -- then at the second feeding, they don't say that.
Hmmm . . . maybe the learned a lesson?
Let’s keep comparing…
In the first episode, it’s not specified how long they’d been away from home; in the second, it does specify, "three days." Since the second also says, the Lord was concerned "they may collapse on the way"—but that’s not said in the first…
Doesn’t it seem that in the first story, they weren’t out as long? So there wasn’t an issue of fainting from hunger?
Do you notice what I see? In some of this, there seems to be a progression:
1------------------------------------2
One long day------------------------Three days
The disciples say, dismiss them------They don’t say that
Jesus: Give them food (challenge)---Omitted (no need?)
setting: unstated--------------------Could be Gentile.
Loaves: 5----------------------------7
Fish: 2-------------------------------"a few"
But in other details, no progression:
People: 5,000-----------------------4,000
Baskets: 12--------------------------7*
What might the significance of the 12 baskets be, when we encounter it new? What’s most natural? Twelve baskets, twelve apostles—each gets a basket! Remember they said, "all we have" are five loaves and two fish." But when Jesus is done, they have a lot more, don’t they? They each have a basket!
So come to the second episode, perhaps the seven baskets aren’t for the Apostles? Not sure, I confess.
But if we look for progression,why isn’t every detail pointing to progress?
Well, let me ask this question: whose faith is being challenged here? In both cases, the Apostles.
So where we don't see progression, that may suggest something about the apostles' response to the opportunities the Lord is giving them to grow in faith.
I.e., "it worked with 5,000—shouldn’t it work as well with 4,000?" "Five loaves worked; shouldn’t seven, and a little more fish, work better?"
No—so what happens? They have less to show for it: not 12 baskets, but only seven!
After all, look at Chapter 16: they are still concerned about having bread! And the Lord recalls both these episodes, and Matthew, in telling the story, highlights the number of loaves, people and baskets for each. What does he say? "You of little faith"! "Why do you not comprehend"?
Now—that’s all a possible explanation of why there are two stories told. My point is, I think an "explanation" should explain! And I don’t see the "doublet" claim explaining anything. It leaves more questions, for me, than it answers.
Also, what I’m illustrating here is a possible method you can use in approaching the Gospels: focus primarily on the text itself!
Now, I promised some principles, let me get back to that.
A second principle: "they weren’t simpletons."
On this story of the feeding that we looked at, who has ever heard this explained as follows: "the real miracle was that the people were induced to share what they’d brought and that’s how everyone had enough."
Several problems with that.
1. The text gives no actual support to that. In fact, it points away from that. Why would anyone be concerned about them being hungry if they brought food? Also, how likely is it that they brought enough food to have plenty left after 3 days? Doesn’t it make more sense that after 3 days, the food was exhausted?
2. Why would anyone be so impressed with that as a miracle?
Now, it happens to be true that in Matthew, Mark and Luke, there is no hint that the people saw this as a great wonder. They eat, they were satisfied, and sent away. (It is John who, in telling the story, has the people seeing "the sign he had done," and wanting to make him king. See John 6:14-15.) After all, the people might well not have seen the miracle happen. But what the Gospel describes is the Lord passing out the food to the Apostles, and they to the people. The Apostles would have witnessed the miracle; they would know how much there was to start with. So the synoptic Gospels present this as a sign for the Apostles. So emphasizing how this changed the people doesn’t seem to follow what the Gospel itself present. How is that a lesson in faith for the apostles?
3. The stories all emphasize Jesus as the source of the food—through the hands of the apostles. But "the miracle of sharing' explanation points away from him.
My point is, this "miracle of sharing" explanation—apart from doing violence to the text itself—asks the people in the story, and the audience for whom these Gospels were written, to be "simpletons."
Just because these folks lived 2,000 years ago, doesn’t mean they couldn’t tell the difference between everyone unpacking their lunch baskets, and one man turning 5 loves into enough for 5,000-plus!
Sometimes the miracles of Scripture are "explained" as if the people in the story were dolts: Jesus didn’t walk ON water, he walked on stones, or along the shore. Riiiight! And those fishermen couldn’t tell the difference!
Before I finish, let me offer this.
I realize you want resources you can rely on—and I’ve just given you reasons to question your resources! So you might wonder if I have any recommendations?
Well, these things are tricky, because I don’t want you to hear me say that something like the Catholic Study Bible or the New Jerome Biblical Commentary or the notes in the New Jerusalem Bible aren’t any good.
Nor do I want to give any of them unqualified endorsement.
Nor am I saying, don’t use any resources—I know that isn’t helpful.
I’d say, try to be balanced in your resources—and as I said, if you aren’t fully conversant with the scholarship, I’d tread very lightly in those areas, and focus on the text itself.
A good resource to use, that might help compensate for what I see as failings of these other resources would be The Navarre Bible. There is a volume for the Gospels and Acts; and several volumes for the rest of the NT, and the Old. And, if you want even more detail, I think they publish a volume for every book of the Bible.
Ignatius Press is coming out with some study guides, put together by Scott Hahn. Now Hahn has a lot of advantages, and a lot of people get a lot out of what he offers. That doesn’t make him an oracle or anything. Keep in mind, there isn’t necessarily "one" proper interpretation of most passages: Scripture is God’s word, and it is endlessly fruitful.
So, Scott Hahn gets this from it; the early Father of the Church got other things; the editors of CSB and NJBC got what they got; I offered you my thoughts, for what they’re worth…
The goal of our use of Scripture is, after all, to lead people to faith in Christ! It isn’t Scripture for its own sake.
Maybe I’ll stop here and let you ask questions.
* I'm sorry this chart is a mess; I can't seem to get it to appear right in blogger. This is the best I can do.
Why are the first three Gospels called "synoptic"?
Because they "are so similar at many points when viewed together, particularly when arranged in parallel columns or lines, that they are called ‘synoptic,’ the Greek work for such a general view. The fourth Gospel…often differs significantly from the synoptics in outline and approach" (Catholic Study Bible, NT, p. 2).
While this is a valid observation, there are downsides to viewing the Gospels this way, too -- because in emphasizing how they are similar, what's distinctive about each may get lost.
Since there’s no way -- in an hour! -- I can do much in-depth examination of the Gospels themselves, I’ve chosen to give you some general pointers and suggestions for when you are dealing with these texts.
And the first thing I’d like to suggest is, be careful when dealing with "scholarship."
When I was in the seminary, I had a course in principles of religious education, taught by Father Ron Nuzzi, who some of you may have heard speak from time to time. And he had a saying that he drilled into our heads: "If you don’t know the language, don’t use the language!" It’s tempting to cite words in Spanish, or Latin, or Greek or Hebrew, and so forth—but if you aren’t really conversant in that language, you can’t know if you’re even pronouncing it right! So his advice is stay away from the foreign language, and stick to what you know.
Well, I’d apply that to the scholarship that is associated with Biblical studies.
We all know there’s a lot of scholarship associated with Scripture. But the problem is, it’s changing all the time.
For example: Who can tell me which Gospel was written first?
Most scholars argue that Mark was written first. And I am in no position to contest that. But who was aware that many serious scholars do challenge that? Who’s right? I don’t know; and for most of my purposes, as a priest, I don’t need to know! Is it an interesting question? Yes. Does it have real implications? Yes—it bears on the question of who composed Matthew—because if Matthew was composed after Mark, and drew heavily on Mark, the reasonable question, why would the Apostle Matthew need to rely on Mark?
This is what is called "the synoptic problem." How did these three Gospels, similar in so many ways, come into being—which came first, how did they influence each other, etc.?
This is the sort of thing that might keep scholars up late at night—but I don’t see why it should keep me or you up late! Or those you are teaching!
We believe they are the Word of God. We believe what the Second Vatican Council said in Dei Verbum:
The Church has always and everywhere held and continues to hold that the four Gospels are of apostolic origin. For what the Apostles preached in fulfillment of the commission of Christ, afterwards they themselves and apostolic men, under the inspiration of the divine Spirit, handed on to us in writing: the foundation of faith, namely, the fourfold Gospel, according to Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. (18)
And:
Holy Mother Church has firmly and with absolute constancy held, and continues to hold, that the four Gospels just named, whose historical character the Church unhesitatingly asserts, faithfully hand on what Jesus Christ, while living among men, really did and taught for their eternal salvation until the day He was taken up into heaven (see Acts 1:1). . . . The sacred authors wrote the four Gospels, selecting some things from the many which had been handed on by word of mouth or in writing, reducing some of them to a synthesis, explaining some things in view of the situation of their churches and preserving the form of proclamation but always in such fashion that they told us the honest truth about Jesus. For their intention in writing was that either from their own memory and recollections, or from the witness of those who "themselves from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the Word" we might know "the truth" concerning those matters about which we have been instructed (see Luke 1:2-4). (Dei Verbum, 19.)
So, there are legitimate scholarly questions about who actually wrote the Gospels—did Matthew himself write his Gospel, or did someone else put on paper what originated from him?
But sometimes people assert more than they know. For example—have you heard the claim that Paul didn’t write all the letters bearing his name?
It’s one thing to say, it may be that Paul didn’t write Ephesians himself; it’s quite another to assert, Paul DID NOT write Ephesians!
My point is, for most folks, this isn’t helpful. And getting into this runs the risk of becoming pseudo-scholarship—because while you or I may be familiar with part of the scholarship: "Mark came first" or "Paul didn’t write Colossians"—we may not be as familiar with the other parts: "No, Matthew really did come first" or, "maybe Paul really did write 1 & 2 Timothy"!
I make this point because, unfortunately, a lot of the materials you may be using will claim—flat out—that Peter didn’t write 2nd Peter; Paul did not write Ephesians, etc. And I’m saying, that’s more than they can know! They weren’t there! That a majority of scholars thinks something is true is significant, but that doesn’t settle the matter—if for no other reason that the scholarship is always subject to change.
Second guideline I’d offer is, be aware of presuppositions.
Any materials you use have certain presuppositions. I have my own, and if you ask me about them, I’ll do my best to identify and acknowledge them.
Here's one rule I use with Scripture:
1. Beware of the presupposition that the human authors were sloppy or inattentive.
In the Catholic Study Bible, in the note on Matthew 15:32—the account of the feeding of the four thousand, the second story in Matthew of a miraculous feeding—we read: "Most probably this story is a doublet of that of the feeding of five thousand (14:13-21). It differs from notably only [emphasis added] in that Jesus takes the initiative, not the disciples (32), and in the numbers: the crowd had been with Jesus three days (32), seven loaves are multiplied (36), seven baskets of fragments remain after the feeding (37), and four thousand men are fed (38)."
Now—what are some presuppositions in that commentary? Can you pick them out?
One is: that these differences in detail are not that big a deal: "only"! Now, this may be true; or, it could be these details are not peripheral, but very significant.
Matthew and Mark both tell of these two feedings, one shortly after the other. Let me ask you: when Matthew (or whoever wrote this Gospel) actually penned these words, and sometime after he wrote this story of the 5,000, he wrote the story of 4,000, do you think he noticed what the person who wrote that commentary noticed? Did Matthew not notice all the similarities?
Some will say, "yes, and look at Chapter 16 of Matthew": there—in vv. 5-12—Jesus refers to both feedings—and some will say, that’s how the human author "fixed" this "problem."
What’s the presupposition there?
That there is a problem!
Or, put it this way—is the problem in the text—or in the one reading the text!
Why assume the problem is with the text? There are two stories here—have to be duplication!
But if you actually look at the text, it treats them as two different episodes, and Jesus himself calls attention to them as two episodes, and highlights differences in each.
What I think is happening here is the commentator can’t figure out why this story is "told twice"—so it has to be "a doublet"!
So you get the presupposition that the human author is inattentive or sloppy. Personally, I think its more probable that the human author, who clearly worked hard on this -- and, by the way, when you read these Gospels closely, you discover just how hard they worked, how well informed they were with Scripture, because they quote it and allude to it constantly…
Anyway, I think it’s more probable the author didn’t make the mistake; but rather, the commentator makes the mistake in not figuring out why these stories are told twice.
Did it actually happen once—twice—or many times? None of us knows that.
What we have is the text presents it as two different episodes.
My presupposition is to take the text as the norm and not try to "outsmart" the text!
Let me highlight some interesting things in these two stories, and see what we might make of them:
In the first story, the crowds followed Jesus on foot.
In the second, it emphasizes they brought "the lame, the blind, the deformed, the mute and many others." The first account merely says, "he cured their sick." Could be the same; or it could be, in the second occasion, they made an effort to bring folks.
In the first, we aren’t certain where he was, except he withdrew "in a boat" to a deserted place; in the second, it says, Jesus walked by the Sea of Galilee"—no mention of a boat—and he went up on a mountain. Ah—a mountain!--there’s another detail not mentioned in the first story. And in Matthew, and in Mark, "up a mountain" is a significant detail: remember the "Sermon on the Mount" in Matthew? Remember the transfiguration happened on a mountain?
So the first story describes Jesus alone, in a boat, crossing over—and there the people are waiting for him; the second describes him walking, and they follow him. And it emphasizes the people needing healing they brought. It also emphasizes the effect of the healing: "The crowds were amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the deformed made whole, the lame walking…and they glorified the God of Israel."
Why might that reference—"God of Israel" be notable? Look at the text—where was Jesus right before this? He was in Tyre and Sidon—among Gentiles! There is yet another detail belonging to the second account, that is not specified in the first.
OK—let’s continue examining these two accounts…
In the first, as we saw, the disciples approached Jesus—why? What did they urge? Send them away.
Now—we’re considering the question, are these two separate events, or a duplication. Let’s assume, for now, it is one episode, told twice. Notice, in the second account, what comes right before it? The story of the Canaanite woman—a pagan—who encounters Jesus. Look at v. 23, and see what the disciples said there: "Send her away"! And this story, to a great extent, is about this question—will Jesus send her away? And the answer is, no—he doesn’t.
So notice how Matthew tells the story: the apostles say, at the first feeding, "dismiss them" -- send them away; then they say it again with the Canaanite woman, but the Lord actually heals her -- then at the second feeding, they don't say that.
Hmmm . . . maybe the learned a lesson?
Let’s keep comparing…
In the first episode, it’s not specified how long they’d been away from home; in the second, it does specify, "three days." Since the second also says, the Lord was concerned "they may collapse on the way"—but that’s not said in the first…
Doesn’t it seem that in the first story, they weren’t out as long? So there wasn’t an issue of fainting from hunger?
Do you notice what I see? In some of this, there seems to be a progression:
1------------------------------------2
One long day------------------------Three days
The disciples say, dismiss them------They don’t say that
Jesus: Give them food (challenge)---Omitted (no need?)
setting: unstated--------------------Could be Gentile.
Loaves: 5----------------------------7
Fish: 2-------------------------------"a few"
But in other details, no progression:
People: 5,000-----------------------4,000
Baskets: 12--------------------------7*
What might the significance of the 12 baskets be, when we encounter it new? What’s most natural? Twelve baskets, twelve apostles—each gets a basket! Remember they said, "all we have" are five loaves and two fish." But when Jesus is done, they have a lot more, don’t they? They each have a basket!
So come to the second episode, perhaps the seven baskets aren’t for the Apostles? Not sure, I confess.
But if we look for progression,why isn’t every detail pointing to progress?
Well, let me ask this question: whose faith is being challenged here? In both cases, the Apostles.
So where we don't see progression, that may suggest something about the apostles' response to the opportunities the Lord is giving them to grow in faith.
I.e., "it worked with 5,000—shouldn’t it work as well with 4,000?" "Five loaves worked; shouldn’t seven, and a little more fish, work better?"
No—so what happens? They have less to show for it: not 12 baskets, but only seven!
After all, look at Chapter 16: they are still concerned about having bread! And the Lord recalls both these episodes, and Matthew, in telling the story, highlights the number of loaves, people and baskets for each. What does he say? "You of little faith"! "Why do you not comprehend"?
Now—that’s all a possible explanation of why there are two stories told. My point is, I think an "explanation" should explain! And I don’t see the "doublet" claim explaining anything. It leaves more questions, for me, than it answers.
Also, what I’m illustrating here is a possible method you can use in approaching the Gospels: focus primarily on the text itself!
Now, I promised some principles, let me get back to that.
A second principle: "they weren’t simpletons."
On this story of the feeding that we looked at, who has ever heard this explained as follows: "the real miracle was that the people were induced to share what they’d brought and that’s how everyone had enough."
Several problems with that.
1. The text gives no actual support to that. In fact, it points away from that. Why would anyone be concerned about them being hungry if they brought food? Also, how likely is it that they brought enough food to have plenty left after 3 days? Doesn’t it make more sense that after 3 days, the food was exhausted?
2. Why would anyone be so impressed with that as a miracle?
Now, it happens to be true that in Matthew, Mark and Luke, there is no hint that the people saw this as a great wonder. They eat, they were satisfied, and sent away. (It is John who, in telling the story, has the people seeing "the sign he had done," and wanting to make him king. See John 6:14-15.) After all, the people might well not have seen the miracle happen. But what the Gospel describes is the Lord passing out the food to the Apostles, and they to the people. The Apostles would have witnessed the miracle; they would know how much there was to start with. So the synoptic Gospels present this as a sign for the Apostles. So emphasizing how this changed the people doesn’t seem to follow what the Gospel itself present. How is that a lesson in faith for the apostles?
3. The stories all emphasize Jesus as the source of the food—through the hands of the apostles. But "the miracle of sharing' explanation points away from him.
My point is, this "miracle of sharing" explanation—apart from doing violence to the text itself—asks the people in the story, and the audience for whom these Gospels were written, to be "simpletons."
Just because these folks lived 2,000 years ago, doesn’t mean they couldn’t tell the difference between everyone unpacking their lunch baskets, and one man turning 5 loves into enough for 5,000-plus!
Sometimes the miracles of Scripture are "explained" as if the people in the story were dolts: Jesus didn’t walk ON water, he walked on stones, or along the shore. Riiiight! And those fishermen couldn’t tell the difference!
Before I finish, let me offer this.
I realize you want resources you can rely on—and I’ve just given you reasons to question your resources! So you might wonder if I have any recommendations?
Well, these things are tricky, because I don’t want you to hear me say that something like the Catholic Study Bible or the New Jerome Biblical Commentary or the notes in the New Jerusalem Bible aren’t any good.
Nor do I want to give any of them unqualified endorsement.
Nor am I saying, don’t use any resources—I know that isn’t helpful.
I’d say, try to be balanced in your resources—and as I said, if you aren’t fully conversant with the scholarship, I’d tread very lightly in those areas, and focus on the text itself.
A good resource to use, that might help compensate for what I see as failings of these other resources would be The Navarre Bible. There is a volume for the Gospels and Acts; and several volumes for the rest of the NT, and the Old. And, if you want even more detail, I think they publish a volume for every book of the Bible.
Ignatius Press is coming out with some study guides, put together by Scott Hahn. Now Hahn has a lot of advantages, and a lot of people get a lot out of what he offers. That doesn’t make him an oracle or anything. Keep in mind, there isn’t necessarily "one" proper interpretation of most passages: Scripture is God’s word, and it is endlessly fruitful.
So, Scott Hahn gets this from it; the early Father of the Church got other things; the editors of CSB and NJBC got what they got; I offered you my thoughts, for what they’re worth…
The goal of our use of Scripture is, after all, to lead people to faith in Christ! It isn’t Scripture for its own sake.
Maybe I’ll stop here and let you ask questions.
* I'm sorry this chart is a mess; I can't seem to get it to appear right in blogger. This is the best I can do.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Agree we're peaceful or there'll be violence!
Pope: There is a problem of violence in association with jihad.
Islamic clerics and politicians: Talk nicely about you-know-who, or else you'll get beaten up . . .
Islamic clerics and politicians: Talk nicely about you-know-who, or else you'll get beaten up . . .
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
I'm not dead, sick or missing...
...Just busy, and a little tired.
Monday being the anniversary of 9/11, I really didn't feel like posting. What could I say? I thought there were a lot of maudlin, self-serving "tributes" all over the blogosphere.
I could think of nothing to say that others hadn't said better; and I have no interest in "reliving" any of it. I didn't watch any of the TV coverage, because as important as it is for people to see what happened (if they didn't see it then), I have no desire to see it played over and over. Some people have a strange nostalgia; I have no nostalgia for 9/11. It was a horrible, dark, terrible day that affected me for days and weeks after. I remember the fear that gripped when I heard an airplane fly over the seminary that night; I remember the first time, after that, that I went to the airport, and feeling so strange, and nervous, around airplanes. I remember being so depressed at the prospect of what would come. And I remember feeling deep anger; I actually wished those men in hell, although I quickly repented of that and am ashamed of that wish.
Well, then Tuesday was a very full day, as it often is. When I come in the office on Tuesday, I have a lot of things waiting for me.
Today, I was up for the 8 am Mass, then went home to work on my homily. I got it done, and don't like it much; which could mean it will be rather good, you let me know! It's funny how, many times, how the homilies I don't like, many people do like.
Then, this afternoon, at the office, my cordless mouse decided to die on me. Amazing how something like that can really irritate me. Why, I had to get out my corded mouse and use that! Oh, the injustice! Just proves how often anger is caused by not having the control we think we're entitled to.
We had the pilgrim statue of Fatima at one of my parishes today; the retired priest had Mass to kick it off, and a parishioner took care of everything; I went over to pray during the last hour. Then I walked back to the other parish (1/2 mile) for Bible study; then drove back to the other parish to visit with the choir, gathering for the first time since spring; stopped in with the high school booster club and also a confirmation meeting for parents, with the last stop (before home) the Knights of St. John. Had beer and pizza with them and resisted all invitations to join the poker game, since I didn't want to stay too late.
In all this, I'm skimming over my "office work": a lot of it is simply clearing paper off my desk. A stack of messages need action, one by one; an inbox full of emails. Passing things along to my secretary to file, things to staff to act on. Writing up the Mass schedule for October and November; writing a memo to the other priests informing them about this and that going on; fielding calls; chatting with volunteers who are assembling a letter to all parishioners; and so forth. Sometimes I think, "my job is to move paper around--that's what I do all day long!"
Oh, and I pray: I had Mass at 8; I used the Roman Canon, and wondered what John Chrysostom would think of that! I was very happy to have the time to pray in the afternoon, and a little annoyed that people were chatting in the vestibule around a literature table set up about Fatima.
Anyway, there's a report on the week thus far. Tomorrow I have Mass at the nursing home at 10:30 am, so I can sleep a little later if I want.
Monday being the anniversary of 9/11, I really didn't feel like posting. What could I say? I thought there were a lot of maudlin, self-serving "tributes" all over the blogosphere.
I could think of nothing to say that others hadn't said better; and I have no interest in "reliving" any of it. I didn't watch any of the TV coverage, because as important as it is for people to see what happened (if they didn't see it then), I have no desire to see it played over and over. Some people have a strange nostalgia; I have no nostalgia for 9/11. It was a horrible, dark, terrible day that affected me for days and weeks after. I remember the fear that gripped when I heard an airplane fly over the seminary that night; I remember the first time, after that, that I went to the airport, and feeling so strange, and nervous, around airplanes. I remember being so depressed at the prospect of what would come. And I remember feeling deep anger; I actually wished those men in hell, although I quickly repented of that and am ashamed of that wish.
Well, then Tuesday was a very full day, as it often is. When I come in the office on Tuesday, I have a lot of things waiting for me.
Today, I was up for the 8 am Mass, then went home to work on my homily. I got it done, and don't like it much; which could mean it will be rather good, you let me know! It's funny how, many times, how the homilies I don't like, many people do like.
Then, this afternoon, at the office, my cordless mouse decided to die on me. Amazing how something like that can really irritate me. Why, I had to get out my corded mouse and use that! Oh, the injustice! Just proves how often anger is caused by not having the control we think we're entitled to.
We had the pilgrim statue of Fatima at one of my parishes today; the retired priest had Mass to kick it off, and a parishioner took care of everything; I went over to pray during the last hour. Then I walked back to the other parish (1/2 mile) for Bible study; then drove back to the other parish to visit with the choir, gathering for the first time since spring; stopped in with the high school booster club and also a confirmation meeting for parents, with the last stop (before home) the Knights of St. John. Had beer and pizza with them and resisted all invitations to join the poker game, since I didn't want to stay too late.
In all this, I'm skimming over my "office work": a lot of it is simply clearing paper off my desk. A stack of messages need action, one by one; an inbox full of emails. Passing things along to my secretary to file, things to staff to act on. Writing up the Mass schedule for October and November; writing a memo to the other priests informing them about this and that going on; fielding calls; chatting with volunteers who are assembling a letter to all parishioners; and so forth. Sometimes I think, "my job is to move paper around--that's what I do all day long!"
Oh, and I pray: I had Mass at 8; I used the Roman Canon, and wondered what John Chrysostom would think of that! I was very happy to have the time to pray in the afternoon, and a little annoyed that people were chatting in the vestibule around a literature table set up about Fatima.
Anyway, there's a report on the week thus far. Tomorrow I have Mass at the nursing home at 10:30 am, so I can sleep a little later if I want.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
No homily posting today
I won't be posting my homily today (actually I had two), because I was preaching (at all six Masses) this weekend about parish finances, and asking for more financial support -- and these are not matters of broader interest.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
A trip home...
Last night and this morning, I was back home in Cincinnati. I went down for a Mass this morning at Christ the King parish in Mount Lookout -- a memorial Mass for my cousin, who died recently.
When I called a brother priest, he told me he had tickets to the Reds, so a change of plans, and down to Great American Ballpark to see the Red murderize the Pirates. A great game.
Thanks to the parishioner who gave my friend the tickets, we were three rows from the field! It was gratifying to see lots of kids at the game, and to see them enjoying it just the same as always; and to see the ballplayers trot over to sign autographs.
Then to the seminary, where I got to have a beer with some of the new guys and get to know them.
This morning brought the first time I offered Mass at Christ the King parish. Some might not like it, as it's architecture is kind of a 1950s late-Art Deco (it has some similarity to St. Peter in Chains Cathedral), but it has beautiful art, elegant design, and excellent acoustics.
For those curious, the music was as follows:
Opening: Be Thou My Vision
Psalm 23
Preparation: In Paradisum
Communion: Panis Angelicus
Closing: Irish Blessing
I couldn't stay to visit with my family, unfortunately, as I had to be back here to preach at 4 pm Mass, where I will head shortly, and then over to the other parish for 5 pm Mass. (I'm preaching at all six Masses on stewardship.)
Then, after that, I'm having the other two priests for dinner.
When I called a brother priest, he told me he had tickets to the Reds, so a change of plans, and down to Great American Ballpark to see the Red murderize the Pirates. A great game.
Thanks to the parishioner who gave my friend the tickets, we were three rows from the field! It was gratifying to see lots of kids at the game, and to see them enjoying it just the same as always; and to see the ballplayers trot over to sign autographs.
Then to the seminary, where I got to have a beer with some of the new guys and get to know them.
This morning brought the first time I offered Mass at Christ the King parish. Some might not like it, as it's architecture is kind of a 1950s late-Art Deco (it has some similarity to St. Peter in Chains Cathedral), but it has beautiful art, elegant design, and excellent acoustics.
For those curious, the music was as follows:
Opening: Be Thou My Vision
Psalm 23
Preparation: In Paradisum
Communion: Panis Angelicus
Closing: Irish Blessing
I couldn't stay to visit with my family, unfortunately, as I had to be back here to preach at 4 pm Mass, where I will head shortly, and then over to the other parish for 5 pm Mass. (I'm preaching at all six Masses on stewardship.)
Then, after that, I'm having the other two priests for dinner.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
The pope likes hats

Attentive (not to say, obsessive) readers will recall the holy father made something of a stir last winter when he wore the camauro, which was dubbed a "Santa hat":

I am all for this. This business of being rid of regalia, fringe, "needless" adornment and anything with a whiff of anachronism is dreary and deadening. (It's not as though men don't still wear hats; only now, they wear baseball caps with advertising on them. Not an improvement.)
When the holy father decides to issue his long-awaited exhortation on the Eucharist, with perhaps some "reform of the reform" elements, perhaps he will revive this mode of headgear:

(Biretta tip to The Shrine of the Holy Whapping; latter two images stolen from Dappled Things.)
Monday, September 04, 2006
Lifting up the Right to Work lightning rod...
Another Labor Day; another opportunity to offer some clarity about what the rights of working people and the dignity of work entail, but which our laws don't provide for:
* Catholic teaching emphasizes the dignity of work, as a participation in God's creative and saving plan. Our work ennobles us; in our work, we realize the potential of our own gifts and talents, and our own selves; our work is a means to improve the lives of others and to make our world a better place. Work is a worthy end in itself, but not the ultimate end -- the ultimate end is union with God. So we should seek to have our work lead us and others to that end.
* Human beings, made in the image of God, and destined for salvation in Christ, have a fundamental dignity in themselves. This includes freedom in conscience, in pursuit of goodness, and in pursuit of their own vocation.
* One of the rights of working people is to act in legitimate ways to enhance their working conditions, their compensation, and their prospects. This means they can act on their own, or collectively. They have the right to form unions; but Church teaching insists that when workers affiliate with unions, they do so consistent with Church teaching.
* Catholics should not have anything to do with unions, or any other organization, that are hostile to Catholic teaching or the practice of religion, that attack private property or aim to pit people against each other, that are contrary to public order or fail to respect basic human rights.
* The right to be a part of unions is a right of individual workers -- a collectivist mode of thinking is alien to the Catholic tradition. Each of us stands before God, on judgment day, as individuals, answering for our choices.
* Solidarity is a moral obligation everyone has to see, and care for, the needs of his fellow man and the common good. But it is not a mandate to assimilate people into a Borg-like collective. It is one moral principle, in relation to others, not the overriding one.
* The Church never endorses a particular economic or political system, but she does comment on the errors or weaknesses of all political and economic systems -- and some are more erroneous than others. In his encyclical, Centesimus Annus, our late pope John Paul II, identified weaknesses in free enterprise and in statist/socialist systems, but was clear in affirming the greater (but not unalloyed) merits of free enterprise, representative government, and limited government (which accords with the principle of subsidiarity). The Church has generally taken a dim view of socialistic systems, and has explicitly condemned various features of it, such as athiesm, denial of private property and other rights, and class-based ideology.
* For all these reasons, I see nothing in Catholic teaching that gives an endorsement to current federal laws that empower union officials to coerce workers into union affiliation and representation, and to pay for that coercion to boot. Union officials and their apologists cry crocodile tears over the "burden" of representing workers who don't pay dues; but the fact is, unions don't have to accept that burden if they don't want it. But they do want it.
* Some believe that workers can't help themselves, so they have to be "helped" -- even against their will! -- by being herded into labor collectives. This would be a charitable explanation of why union bosses demand coercive power over individual workers.
* But it's also clear that these coercive powers are about the ambition of union officials and building their own kingdoms; and they are breeding grounds for all manner of corruption and abuse.
* The logic of the "coercion is for their own good" mentality is, ultimately, hostile to self-government. If workers need to be coerced, why stop there? Why shouldn't people be coerced into religion, for their own good? Why shouldn't they be subject to a fascist political system, "for their own good?" Where does it end.
These are some of the reasons I am for Right to Work.
* Catholic teaching emphasizes the dignity of work, as a participation in God's creative and saving plan. Our work ennobles us; in our work, we realize the potential of our own gifts and talents, and our own selves; our work is a means to improve the lives of others and to make our world a better place. Work is a worthy end in itself, but not the ultimate end -- the ultimate end is union with God. So we should seek to have our work lead us and others to that end.
* Human beings, made in the image of God, and destined for salvation in Christ, have a fundamental dignity in themselves. This includes freedom in conscience, in pursuit of goodness, and in pursuit of their own vocation.
* One of the rights of working people is to act in legitimate ways to enhance their working conditions, their compensation, and their prospects. This means they can act on their own, or collectively. They have the right to form unions; but Church teaching insists that when workers affiliate with unions, they do so consistent with Church teaching.
* Catholics should not have anything to do with unions, or any other organization, that are hostile to Catholic teaching or the practice of religion, that attack private property or aim to pit people against each other, that are contrary to public order or fail to respect basic human rights.
* The right to be a part of unions is a right of individual workers -- a collectivist mode of thinking is alien to the Catholic tradition. Each of us stands before God, on judgment day, as individuals, answering for our choices.
* Solidarity is a moral obligation everyone has to see, and care for, the needs of his fellow man and the common good. But it is not a mandate to assimilate people into a Borg-like collective. It is one moral principle, in relation to others, not the overriding one.
* The Church never endorses a particular economic or political system, but she does comment on the errors or weaknesses of all political and economic systems -- and some are more erroneous than others. In his encyclical, Centesimus Annus, our late pope John Paul II, identified weaknesses in free enterprise and in statist/socialist systems, but was clear in affirming the greater (but not unalloyed) merits of free enterprise, representative government, and limited government (which accords with the principle of subsidiarity). The Church has generally taken a dim view of socialistic systems, and has explicitly condemned various features of it, such as athiesm, denial of private property and other rights, and class-based ideology.
* For all these reasons, I see nothing in Catholic teaching that gives an endorsement to current federal laws that empower union officials to coerce workers into union affiliation and representation, and to pay for that coercion to boot. Union officials and their apologists cry crocodile tears over the "burden" of representing workers who don't pay dues; but the fact is, unions don't have to accept that burden if they don't want it. But they do want it.
* Some believe that workers can't help themselves, so they have to be "helped" -- even against their will! -- by being herded into labor collectives. This would be a charitable explanation of why union bosses demand coercive power over individual workers.
* But it's also clear that these coercive powers are about the ambition of union officials and building their own kingdoms; and they are breeding grounds for all manner of corruption and abuse.
* The logic of the "coercion is for their own good" mentality is, ultimately, hostile to self-government. If workers need to be coerced, why stop there? Why shouldn't people be coerced into religion, for their own good? Why shouldn't they be subject to a fascist political system, "for their own good?" Where does it end.
These are some of the reasons I am for Right to Work.
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