Sometimes people have funny ideas about the Catholic Church--wait, take out the "sometimes." From the Middle Ages on, the Catholic Church has this persona of a stingy headmaster, sternly rebuking its children and using its power capriciously.
I'm not denying abuses of power... but I'm not getting into that particular subject on this post. If critics are going to blast us when we're in the wrong, in all fairness, they should give us kudos for what we do right. (bwahahahahahahaha!!! Kidding. Can you imagine that? Neither can I. Really, it would be nice) I'd like to highlight a great positive: the Apostolic Constitution Ineffabilis Deus promulgated by Pope Pius IX in 1854. The Constitution defined the dogma of Our Lady's Immaculate Conception. You can read it yourself at New Advent, home of the Catholic Encyclopedia.
To start the Constitution, the pope covers three main ideas: Mary has a place in the economy of salvation, the idea that Mary was immaculately conceived wasn't something new in the history of the Church or the sensus fidelium, and it's something worthy to be celebrated in the liturgical & devotional life of the Church. The Holy Father then proceeds to examine Catholic Tradition, councils, and the extensive treatment of Our Lady by the Fathers of the Church. They read the Old Testament typologically and saw Mary everywhere.
Next, Pius IX noted that the Holy See had been petitioned before on the matter of defining the Immaculate Conception. Most recently, Pope Gregory XVI (Pius IX's immediate predecessor) had been petitioned about the matter. Pius IX's first step? He established a commission to study the matter. Then, he wrote all the bishops in the world asking for their opinion.
Hmm. That's odd, it doesn't sound too autocratic to me. The Constitution proceeds to define the doctrine:
"We declare, pronounce, and define that the doctrine which holds that the most Blessed Virgin Mary, in the first instance of her conception, by a singular grace and privilege granted by Almighty God, in view of the merits of Jesus Christ, the Savior of the human race, was preserved free from all stain of original sin, is a doctrine revealed by God and therefore to be believed firmly and constantly by all the faithful."
After that, the pope warns any Catholic who dissented from the teaching.
Here again... The Church would issue anathemas, right? And punish all dissenters? And banish them to hell? Right? That's what the Church does! Sorry to disappoint those who hold a Catholic stereotype. Pius IX presented dissent for what it really is: an action by a believer where he/she creates his/her own consequences. In the action of dissent, that person would separate him/herself from the Church and do harm to their own faith. Yes, the Church is presenting a doctrine for belief--but she provides pages and pages why the belief is in line with the deposit of faith. If the Catholic Church was the severe, rigid autocrat as it is believed to be, why didn't Pius IX just write a letter, commanding belief or else?
From the ending paragraph of Ineffabilis Deus:
"Let them [the children of the Church] fly with utter confidence to this most sweet Mother of mercy and grace in all dangers, difficulties, needs, doubts and fears. Under her guidance, under her patronage, under her kindness and protection, nothing is to be feared, nothing is hopeless. Because, while bearing toward us a truly motherly affection and having in her care the work of our salvation, she is solicitous about the whole human race."
O Holy and Immaculate Virgin, pray for us!
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
(light bulb) Ding!
It’s amazing what happens to your day when you throw in a little fasting. I’m not talking about fasting from food, in this case. In an effort to take advantage of Advent (spiritually, that is), I started fasting in three little ways yesterday morning.
I don’t say that to be vain; I have plenty of that already. It’s more an observation, or perhaps an insight into what a stiff-necked person I am. Okay genius, countless saints and doctors of the Church cited fasting as indispensible to the spiritual life. If that weren’t enough, Jesus Himself said after casting out a demon, “this kind can come out by nothing but prayer and fasting.” (Mark 9:29)
Ah, so slow to catch on. On Monday, I noticed a big change in my day. There was more peace and less stress. I could focus at work better than normal. Internally, I complained less. Granted, I was a little more disposed to fasting because of the somber events of the weekend. I understand that the rubber will really meet the road when I try to do this stuff on a bad day, or worse, on a day when I’m apathetic to it.
Another light bulb went on.
By fasting I was fighting the good fight (cf. 1 Tim 6:12). And, it was made clear to me, I’m in a fight. For me, I particularly fight with laziness. It starts with getting up for work as late as possible. Then it continues when I race to work (occasionally cursing at a slow driver and frequently cursing lights not in my favor) to arrive barely on time. It affects my eating habits—if I see it, I want to eat it because I’m too lazy to say no. It affects my prayer life—I become more prone to think “hmm, what’s on TV?” rather than say the simplest prayer.
In the battle for virtues & vices, in which my soul hangs in the balance, I wasn’t on the offensive... or the defensive! Yesterday I realized wasn’t picking up my armor until later in the day, if at all. The evil one? He begins his onslaught when I open my eyes.
I’d be willing to bet Fr. Jerome has something to do with this. Pray for us!
“For we are not contending against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the world rulers of this present darkness, against the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places. Therefore take the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having girded your loins with truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shot your feet with the equipment of the gospel of peace; above all taking the shield of faith, with which you can quench all the flaming darts of the evil one. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.” Eph 6:10-17 (RSV-CE)
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Rest in Peace, Fr. Jerome
Listening to this song while writing this. Click on this link, go to #93 on this song list, "Ned of the Hill."
It really hurts, I can't believe he's gone. Fr. Jerome lived with cancer for at least 8 years--perhaps more. In talking with one of my classmates, we both think he was diagnosed a little earlier than that, and the seminary community didn't know. When I had him for Moral Theology, he frequently missed class because of the treatments. It's a shame, too; he was one of the wisest people I've ever met. He'd often stop in the middle of his lectures (which he generally read) and cite a work of literature. It impressed me so much! I don't have the best memory and I don't always retain what I read. He was incredibly smart and learned--a Harvard man.
In this I also wanted to share some memories.
-He was an amazing confessor! He really knew me. As an example... when I confessed something having to do with self-confidence problems, he gave me the following penance: write down 50 gifts you have/things you're good at.
-He was very holy, and said Mass beautifully. I never saw him any more serious than he was while celebrating the Mass. Yet it wasn't a bad thing. For me, it had connotations of awe, gravity, and humility; not sterility, rigidity, or mechanichity (??).
-Man, did we laugh. Our spiritual direction appointments during the last four years we joked and laughed so much! He had a great sense of humor and our senses of humor were similarly geeky. He was sharp and had a great wit. During one year at the seminary, he was vice rector for the college. He wasn't a good fit for that... didn't have a lot of patience for the college guys. During a seminary conference (this one a housekeeping kind of meeting), he got up, made the announcements he had to make, and then said, "I'd like to thank the residents of 2nd floor Anselm for shortening my stay in Purgatory."
-He loved Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, and many other things. We once watched "Jonah," the Veggie Tales movie. He actually put Lord of the Rings on the suggested spiritual reading list. I'm really grateful that he did! Not only is LOTR a fun series that's a good story... enjoyable even on the most superficial level. It's a profoundly Catholic work. I thank Fr. Jerome for introducing that to me!
-During the summer of 2006, I was working at my summer assignment as a hospital chaplain intern. The preceding school year hadn't been a smooth one. I had a couple months' worth of nasty cell phone bills; I talked with Fr. Jerome about all the anguish I was having, wondering about whether or not to continue as a seminarian. He wisely guided me through that; he was also firm with me, pulling no punches. (yet in the gentlest way) I have told this to Erin before, and it bears repeating: if not for Fr. Jerome's guidance, I wouldn't be married to Erin today.
-I got to hear him give talks many times in the seminary, whether it was a homily, a conference, or part of a retreat. In one particular retreat, he gave a talk on suffering. I can't really remember the contents of it, but it was probably the best talk I've ever heard on the subject. What made it so good is that it came from authentic human experience (as opposed to fake human experience? or robotic human experience? you know what I mean). One time after his Ash Wednesday talk, I asked him for a copy of it. I still have it today, and it was great! Just about a month ago, after rereading the talk, I emailed him and asked him for a copy of everything he'd ever written. Why not shoot for the moon? He said he'd want to go through things before doing that but thanked me for the compliment.
-He just missed the premiere of "The Hobbit." :) If I had the chance to see him before he died, I would've told him that and he would've laughed.
How beautiful it is that he dies on the solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, the day he was ordained a priest! If I knew how to sing it, I'd sing the Te Deum.
I can't thank God enough for the blessing that Fr. Jerome was to me. Please pray for us, Fr. Jerome!
Sunday, December 2, 2012
St. Martin of Tours
I just finished reading a book on St. Martin of Tours by Regine Pernoud, a French historian who has written extensively on French saints and the Middle Ages. I was very impressed with St. Martin; my only exposure to him was through church art. He is famously depicted cutting his cloak in half and giving it to a beggar. After his time as a soldier came to an end, he was popularly elected bishop of Tours. The people of his diocese wanted him as their shepherd for his extraordinary sanctity.
One of the main things that really struck me about St. Martin was that simple holiness. Pernoud makes the observation that, in the 300s, with martyrdoms so fresh in the memory of Christians, it's remarkable that St. Martin was widely known & honored. He didn't get fed to the lions; he wasn't a hermit in the desert, battling demons (Anthony of the Desert); he didn't get exiled or take part in any dogma-defining councils (Athanasius); he wasn't a giant theological mind (Ambrose, Augustine). He was holy, working hard in a profession--bishop--that he didn't choose or feel worthy to hold. Had it been up to him, Martin would've lived a quiet life as a monk.
The other main thing that struck me was all the miracles that he performed. A large portion of them seemed to come in his evangelical efforts. He frequently traveled into rural areas to convert the pagans there... and that involved destroying their objects of worship. To do that was brazen, to say the least. But just as God revealed Himself to His chosen people in words and deeds, Martin followed suit. He preached and worked wonders, giving verbal and visual evidence of the power of the Gospel.
Looking at the Catholic Church now... it's rather obvious to say that we need more St. Martins around. Those of simple faith that enrich every person they come into contact with. In every age, the Church needs saintly folks like that.
In this post-post conciliar era, I think we as Catholics need to rediscover our identity. A big part of that is a rediscovery of our liturgical identity: in the words of Fr. Z, "save the liturgy, save the world." That's not to say we have to do everything like we used to--not at all. If anything, the Church could use some bureaucratic streamlining. Yes, a certain amount of bureaucracy is necessary, but as Bl. John Henry Newman said, institutionalization is a more efficient destroyer of the Church than persecution.
As frustrating as these times can be, it's comforting to think that there have been many such as St. Martin. They experienced similar difficulties; they dealt with secular opposition; they lived in a world that didn't seem to know or care about Christ. And in spite of all that (perhaps because of it), they still lived marvelously holy lives. Sanctity is available to all--no matter the year, no matter the age. It's not the times that are so unique in their difficulty. Developing virtue, conquering vice, and putting the blood, sweat, tears in? THAT is the biggest challenge.
St. Martin, pray for us!
One of the main things that really struck me about St. Martin was that simple holiness. Pernoud makes the observation that, in the 300s, with martyrdoms so fresh in the memory of Christians, it's remarkable that St. Martin was widely known & honored. He didn't get fed to the lions; he wasn't a hermit in the desert, battling demons (Anthony of the Desert); he didn't get exiled or take part in any dogma-defining councils (Athanasius); he wasn't a giant theological mind (Ambrose, Augustine). He was holy, working hard in a profession--bishop--that he didn't choose or feel worthy to hold. Had it been up to him, Martin would've lived a quiet life as a monk.
The other main thing that struck me was all the miracles that he performed. A large portion of them seemed to come in his evangelical efforts. He frequently traveled into rural areas to convert the pagans there... and that involved destroying their objects of worship. To do that was brazen, to say the least. But just as God revealed Himself to His chosen people in words and deeds, Martin followed suit. He preached and worked wonders, giving verbal and visual evidence of the power of the Gospel.
Looking at the Catholic Church now... it's rather obvious to say that we need more St. Martins around. Those of simple faith that enrich every person they come into contact with. In every age, the Church needs saintly folks like that.
In this post-post conciliar era, I think we as Catholics need to rediscover our identity. A big part of that is a rediscovery of our liturgical identity: in the words of Fr. Z, "save the liturgy, save the world." That's not to say we have to do everything like we used to--not at all. If anything, the Church could use some bureaucratic streamlining. Yes, a certain amount of bureaucracy is necessary, but as Bl. John Henry Newman said, institutionalization is a more efficient destroyer of the Church than persecution.
As frustrating as these times can be, it's comforting to think that there have been many such as St. Martin. They experienced similar difficulties; they dealt with secular opposition; they lived in a world that didn't seem to know or care about Christ. And in spite of all that (perhaps because of it), they still lived marvelously holy lives. Sanctity is available to all--no matter the year, no matter the age. It's not the times that are so unique in their difficulty. Developing virtue, conquering vice, and putting the blood, sweat, tears in? THAT is the biggest challenge.
St. Martin, pray for us!
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
(looks around) Ok, No One's Reading This. Sounding Off...
I saw an article today regarding a document that came out of the USCCB's meetings: about preaching. I haven't read it (it was over 50 pages) This is something that I feel very informed about, but it will become clear that I have a big axe to grind. I'm a former seminarian, I've listened to thousands of homilies over the course of my life. I took a preaching class. Add it all up, and you have me: a totally biased, "I have the solution to all your preaching problems," complete and utter unobjectivite person... though that doesn't mean that my thoughts aren't worth listening to. And I guarantee this will never make it into a seminary classroom, or into the program for forming permanent deacons... so I feel somewhat safe writing it. I'm sure they cover things like body language, eye contact, and other standard things, so I won't consider those things here.
Here are my tips to improve preaching in the Catholic Church in America:
1) Put energy to the homily. As sad as it is, many folks nowadays see the homily as the central part of the Mass. That's not true in the least... but, the USA is not a Catholic country, never was, and most likely will never be so. For fallen-away Catholics or people who might be interested in the Catholic faith? What they take away from Mass is the homily. I've had some conversations about this in the past year or so--and realized that the conversation isn't at the point where I could say that the Mass is about the Eucharist. The big challenge is convincing them that it's worth it to even walk through the door of the church. Lament it, decry it, say whatever you want: it seems to me that a lot of people are in those shoes.
Priests, deacons, seminarians, lend me your PASSION. You don't have to shout but show us that you believe what you're saying! That it means the world to you! That you LIVE to be a priest and shepherd your flock in the Catholic faith! You don't have to shed your personality or become someone you're not. More than anything, what convinces many people is sincerity. It will help them connect not only to you but to the Mass as well. Let that shine through in the gifts you already have! You as a fully-actualized preacher could SAVE SOULS.
2) Never read your homily. If you have difficulty with this, give short homilies (your congregation won't complain). Do as much as you're capable. I know this is can be a steep learning curve for people preaching in their second language. But work at it! Make this a goal! You could write the finest homily of your life--and if the delivery is lacking, the congregation would never be able to tell.
3) Cut the stories. They can have their place in preaching, but I don't buy the bovine elimination that preachers need to tell a story to "connect" the people to the Scripture readings. So the Word of God is inaccessible? It has no power on its own to reach the hearts of the faithful? Give me your reflections on how the readings will help my spiritual life. Tell me how the readings reaffirm my Catholic faith while the secular world tries to drown it.
Enter one of my points of bias. True story from my seminary days: one guy gave a short reflection at evening prayer (they allowed the almost-deacons to do this for practice) that started with a story. One lizard got trapped in a wall, the other lizard brought it food; a construction worker saw this in action and vowed to be more charitable in his own life. Nice enough, but do you know the problem? He made up the story. Lazy preaching, sir; lazy preaching.
Don't repeat stories; don't tell them all about yourself; don't make them the focal point of your homily. If anything, tell us stories from the long tradition of the Church. There's a lot of material there...
4) Piss people off. I've concluded after my many years of being part of the Catholic Church: there's no guarantee that people will like you. Priests and deacons even more so, since they are the ones in the spotlight. For some folks, Fr. X is the best priest in the world, and others won't be able to stand him. It's human nature--something to be expected. If people don't like you, however, make sure it's for a good reason. Don't let your pride, scruples, or other defect of character (we all have them) drive people away. Preach the truth! Proclaim what the Catholic Church teaches! Don't shy away from abortion, contraception, gay marriage, shacking up, or any of the other hot-button issues. Don't be afraid to call sin by its name! Will people leave the parish? Absolutely!
This element of preaching has been generally lost on the American church. The "I'm OK, You're OK" sentiment has neutered the Word of God. What the 70s generation of Catholics don't fully understand is that Jesus Himself was controversial. People stopped following Him because of the things He said (see John 6). Yes, Jesus loves and respects everyone. Does He glance over sin like it was nothing? To believe that is to completely misunderstand the cross. If everyone was okay and believed/did whatever they wanted, and God is fine with that, why did the human race have to be redeemed? It's useless to say that we're a "Resurrection people" if we can fashion religious and moral teaching according to our own desires.
Truly, I say to you, hard preaching can be done with love. Scathing rebukes of sin can be done gently. They're not mutually exclusive, as many have believed for so long. Jesus the Good Shepherd and Jesus the Judge aren't two people.
(whew) There. That is all.
Here are my tips to improve preaching in the Catholic Church in America:
1) Put energy to the homily. As sad as it is, many folks nowadays see the homily as the central part of the Mass. That's not true in the least... but, the USA is not a Catholic country, never was, and most likely will never be so. For fallen-away Catholics or people who might be interested in the Catholic faith? What they take away from Mass is the homily. I've had some conversations about this in the past year or so--and realized that the conversation isn't at the point where I could say that the Mass is about the Eucharist. The big challenge is convincing them that it's worth it to even walk through the door of the church. Lament it, decry it, say whatever you want: it seems to me that a lot of people are in those shoes.
Priests, deacons, seminarians, lend me your PASSION. You don't have to shout but show us that you believe what you're saying! That it means the world to you! That you LIVE to be a priest and shepherd your flock in the Catholic faith! You don't have to shed your personality or become someone you're not. More than anything, what convinces many people is sincerity. It will help them connect not only to you but to the Mass as well. Let that shine through in the gifts you already have! You as a fully-actualized preacher could SAVE SOULS.
2) Never read your homily. If you have difficulty with this, give short homilies (your congregation won't complain). Do as much as you're capable. I know this is can be a steep learning curve for people preaching in their second language. But work at it! Make this a goal! You could write the finest homily of your life--and if the delivery is lacking, the congregation would never be able to tell.
3) Cut the stories. They can have their place in preaching, but I don't buy the bovine elimination that preachers need to tell a story to "connect" the people to the Scripture readings. So the Word of God is inaccessible? It has no power on its own to reach the hearts of the faithful? Give me your reflections on how the readings will help my spiritual life. Tell me how the readings reaffirm my Catholic faith while the secular world tries to drown it.
Enter one of my points of bias. True story from my seminary days: one guy gave a short reflection at evening prayer (they allowed the almost-deacons to do this for practice) that started with a story. One lizard got trapped in a wall, the other lizard brought it food; a construction worker saw this in action and vowed to be more charitable in his own life. Nice enough, but do you know the problem? He made up the story. Lazy preaching, sir; lazy preaching.
Don't repeat stories; don't tell them all about yourself; don't make them the focal point of your homily. If anything, tell us stories from the long tradition of the Church. There's a lot of material there...
4) Piss people off. I've concluded after my many years of being part of the Catholic Church: there's no guarantee that people will like you. Priests and deacons even more so, since they are the ones in the spotlight. For some folks, Fr. X is the best priest in the world, and others won't be able to stand him. It's human nature--something to be expected. If people don't like you, however, make sure it's for a good reason. Don't let your pride, scruples, or other defect of character (we all have them) drive people away. Preach the truth! Proclaim what the Catholic Church teaches! Don't shy away from abortion, contraception, gay marriage, shacking up, or any of the other hot-button issues. Don't be afraid to call sin by its name! Will people leave the parish? Absolutely!
John 15:18-20 "If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you. If you were of the world, the world would love its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. Remember the word that I said to you, `A servant is not greater than his master.' If they persecuted me, they will persecute you; if they kept my word, they will keep yours also.
This element of preaching has been generally lost on the American church. The "I'm OK, You're OK" sentiment has neutered the Word of God. What the 70s generation of Catholics don't fully understand is that Jesus Himself was controversial. People stopped following Him because of the things He said (see John 6). Yes, Jesus loves and respects everyone. Does He glance over sin like it was nothing? To believe that is to completely misunderstand the cross. If everyone was okay and believed/did whatever they wanted, and God is fine with that, why did the human race have to be redeemed? It's useless to say that we're a "Resurrection people" if we can fashion religious and moral teaching according to our own desires.
Truly, I say to you, hard preaching can be done with love. Scathing rebukes of sin can be done gently. They're not mutually exclusive, as many have believed for so long. Jesus the Good Shepherd and Jesus the Judge aren't two people.
(whew) There. That is all.
Monday, November 12, 2012
The Best Kind of Questioning
It's en vogue to question faith in God (across credal lines) and it has been for centuries. I can't speak to the past few centuries but I can speak to the age in which we live. In the West, Christianity has declined exponentially. Many question their faith and, as I've experienced it, it's only the most enlightened minds that reject faith in at least some portion.
Rather than turn the questioning of faith inward on ourselves, I think we'd have more to gain if we reflected on the questions of Jesus. All of these are taken from the Gospel of Matthew, and from the RSV-CE.
Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? (7:3)
Either beginning the journey of faith or even walking the path requires humility. It's a constant theme throughout the Gospels--the Beatitudes (Matt 5) extol the meek, the lowly, those that are suffering & persecuted. At the Last Supper, Jesus washes the disciples' feet (John 13:3-17), taking a position of social inferiority (not to mention, those feet must've been nasty if they walked on dirt roads all day). Recognizing our own sinfulness must precede any preaching to others. Otherwise, it very well could come across as self-righteous.
Why are you afraid, O men of little faith? (8:26)
In this scene, the disciples are with Jesus in a boat--and the sea turns stormy. Everyone but Jesus was panicking. Our Lord was asleep! The disciples woke Him up, He asks them the above question; He then rebukes the storm and leaves the disciples stunned. From fearing for their lives one moment to hearing chirping birds and Bobby McFerrin after! (slight poetic license on my part)
Isn't that how we behave when the storms of life rock us to the core? We panic, we scream to Jesus for help. Don't misinterpret here, He wants us to turn to Him and is always glad when we do. Is Jesus falling asleep in our "boat" because we don't ever talk to Him? Or involve Him in our lives? Had the disciples had greater faith in the story, the storm would've been just as terrifying. Their reaction, however, would've been much different.
Do you believe that I am able to do this? (9:28)
It's a funny thing with humans, sometimes we hold on to pain and resist healing. It's much easier to wallow in our self-pity than to properly deal with something. I know that from experience! It's difficult for those of us with confidence issues, no matter how big or small. For me in the past, I held on to x, y, or z that gave me cause to hate myself. Not to make myself feel guilty, not to chide myself--to hate myself. At the time, I wasn't always willing to accept Christ's healing power. For whatever messed up reason, that self-hatred was attractive to hold onto.
If any soul answers "no" to this, they are in grave danger. As I was. If a soul thinks that Jesus cannot heal them, they admit that sin is stronger than grace. That evil is stronger than good. They are SO terrible that not even God can help them! They are out of reach! C.S. Lewis said that despair is the devil's greatest weapon...
Who do you say that I am? (16:15)
How a soul answers this is how they practice their faith. It's a very simple question.
For what will it profit a man, if he gains the whole world and forfeits his life? (16:26)
See Rich, Richard ("A Man For All Seasons"). It's the timeless lesson of what's really important. Fr. Barron had a good point on this, he spoke about cultural names being indicative of where one spends one's time. A company man, family man, sports guy. How we spend our time reveals our actual priorities--which are different from the priorities we aspire to. There will be a point in our lives when it's too late to focus on what's truly important. We must remember that!
What do you want? (20:21)
Do you want a faith that is conformed to you? Or are you willing to conform yourself to a faith?
Are you able to drink the cup that I am to drink? (20:22)
Along with the promise of eternal life, Jesus promised suffering to His followers. He doesn't sugar coat it--no servant is greater than his master.
Rather than turn the questioning of faith inward on ourselves, I think we'd have more to gain if we reflected on the questions of Jesus. All of these are taken from the Gospel of Matthew, and from the RSV-CE.
Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? (7:3)
Either beginning the journey of faith or even walking the path requires humility. It's a constant theme throughout the Gospels--the Beatitudes (Matt 5) extol the meek, the lowly, those that are suffering & persecuted. At the Last Supper, Jesus washes the disciples' feet (John 13:3-17), taking a position of social inferiority (not to mention, those feet must've been nasty if they walked on dirt roads all day). Recognizing our own sinfulness must precede any preaching to others. Otherwise, it very well could come across as self-righteous.
Why are you afraid, O men of little faith? (8:26)
In this scene, the disciples are with Jesus in a boat--and the sea turns stormy. Everyone but Jesus was panicking. Our Lord was asleep! The disciples woke Him up, He asks them the above question; He then rebukes the storm and leaves the disciples stunned. From fearing for their lives one moment to hearing chirping birds and Bobby McFerrin after! (slight poetic license on my part)
Isn't that how we behave when the storms of life rock us to the core? We panic, we scream to Jesus for help. Don't misinterpret here, He wants us to turn to Him and is always glad when we do. Is Jesus falling asleep in our "boat" because we don't ever talk to Him? Or involve Him in our lives? Had the disciples had greater faith in the story, the storm would've been just as terrifying. Their reaction, however, would've been much different.
Do you believe that I am able to do this? (9:28)
It's a funny thing with humans, sometimes we hold on to pain and resist healing. It's much easier to wallow in our self-pity than to properly deal with something. I know that from experience! It's difficult for those of us with confidence issues, no matter how big or small. For me in the past, I held on to x, y, or z that gave me cause to hate myself. Not to make myself feel guilty, not to chide myself--to hate myself. At the time, I wasn't always willing to accept Christ's healing power. For whatever messed up reason, that self-hatred was attractive to hold onto.
If any soul answers "no" to this, they are in grave danger. As I was. If a soul thinks that Jesus cannot heal them, they admit that sin is stronger than grace. That evil is stronger than good. They are SO terrible that not even God can help them! They are out of reach! C.S. Lewis said that despair is the devil's greatest weapon...
Who do you say that I am? (16:15)
How a soul answers this is how they practice their faith. It's a very simple question.
For what will it profit a man, if he gains the whole world and forfeits his life? (16:26)
See Rich, Richard ("A Man For All Seasons"). It's the timeless lesson of what's really important. Fr. Barron had a good point on this, he spoke about cultural names being indicative of where one spends one's time. A company man, family man, sports guy. How we spend our time reveals our actual priorities--which are different from the priorities we aspire to. There will be a point in our lives when it's too late to focus on what's truly important. We must remember that!
What do you want? (20:21)
Do you want a faith that is conformed to you? Or are you willing to conform yourself to a faith?
Are you able to drink the cup that I am to drink? (20:22)
Along with the promise of eternal life, Jesus promised suffering to His followers. He doesn't sugar coat it--no servant is greater than his master.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
All Roads Lead to the Eucharist (1 of 4)
I'm very blessed to attend Mass at beautiful St. Mary's Church in Mt. Angel, OR. The neo-gothic architecture, the stenciling, the windows... all a sight to behold. As I learned in the churches & cathedrals of Europe, no feature of a church is done by accident. In Sainte-Chapelle in Paris, for example, the Bible stories featured in the windows run chronologically from right to left; it ends with a window of the last judgment. (do a Google image search to see one of the most beautiful churches every built) The windows were meant to both tell the story of the Bible and teach souls of the life of Jesus.
St. Mary's is no exception to that rule, that the placement of windows, etc. is deliberate. A while ago, I noticed that there were four stained glass windows in the apse--directly above the tabernacle and high altar. When I looked closer, I found that those windows were indeed deliberate. Here are my thoughts on the first window. (the other three will follow in future posts)
The offering of Melchizedek (Gen 14:18-20)
To set the stage: Abram comes back from battle, victorious! Melchizedek, the king of Salem, is named as a "priest of God Most High" (v. 18). Let's start here. Mel was a priest before God established a priesthood among the Jewish people. Aaron would be the first high priest and then the tribe of Levi... interesting that Mel precedes them. From what little is said about him in Gen 14, we can "spiritually conclude" (my phrase, since exegetes may not approve) that Melchizedek was appointed a priest by God--not men. This feature of Melchizedek's priesthood is very typological; Jesus also had a special priesthood that wasn't rooted in the line of Aaron or Levi.
The author of the letter to the Hebrews takes up this point in earnest in ch. 7. He highlights the superiority and priority of the priestly order of Melchizedek and cites Psalm 110: "You are a priest forever, after the order of Melchizedek" (Heb 7:17; Ps 110:4). Psalm 110 sings of the Messiah as both a king and a priest. The author of Hebrews picks this up and points directly to Jesus: HE is the Messiah long-foretold; HE is the king that will shepherd the Chosen People; HE is the high priest who received His authority from God ("in the order of Melchizedek").
If that weren't enough to tie Jesus to Melchizedek, the elements of his offering do. Mel offers bread and wine; praises God Most High; then blesses Abram in the Name of God Most High. As a sign of respect and gratitude, Abram tithes a tenth of his belongings.
Bread and wine. That sounds familiar!
Reading the figure of Melchizedek typologically is very fruitful for us to do. We should remember that the practice of the Eucharist has very deep roots in the Old Testament. Praise to You, God Most High, for giving us the Mystery of Mysteries in the Eucharist!
St. Mary's is no exception to that rule, that the placement of windows, etc. is deliberate. A while ago, I noticed that there were four stained glass windows in the apse--directly above the tabernacle and high altar. When I looked closer, I found that those windows were indeed deliberate. Here are my thoughts on the first window. (the other three will follow in future posts)
The offering of Melchizedek (Gen 14:18-20)
To set the stage: Abram comes back from battle, victorious! Melchizedek, the king of Salem, is named as a "priest of God Most High" (v. 18). Let's start here. Mel was a priest before God established a priesthood among the Jewish people. Aaron would be the first high priest and then the tribe of Levi... interesting that Mel precedes them. From what little is said about him in Gen 14, we can "spiritually conclude" (my phrase, since exegetes may not approve) that Melchizedek was appointed a priest by God--not men. This feature of Melchizedek's priesthood is very typological; Jesus also had a special priesthood that wasn't rooted in the line of Aaron or Levi.
The author of the letter to the Hebrews takes up this point in earnest in ch. 7. He highlights the superiority and priority of the priestly order of Melchizedek and cites Psalm 110: "You are a priest forever, after the order of Melchizedek" (Heb 7:17; Ps 110:4). Psalm 110 sings of the Messiah as both a king and a priest. The author of Hebrews picks this up and points directly to Jesus: HE is the Messiah long-foretold; HE is the king that will shepherd the Chosen People; HE is the high priest who received His authority from God ("in the order of Melchizedek").
If that weren't enough to tie Jesus to Melchizedek, the elements of his offering do. Mel offers bread and wine; praises God Most High; then blesses Abram in the Name of God Most High. As a sign of respect and gratitude, Abram tithes a tenth of his belongings.
Bread and wine. That sounds familiar!
Reading the figure of Melchizedek typologically is very fruitful for us to do. We should remember that the practice of the Eucharist has very deep roots in the Old Testament. Praise to You, God Most High, for giving us the Mystery of Mysteries in the Eucharist!
Thursday, November 8, 2012
More Reason Not to Trust Scripture Scholars
Okay, that's being a little facetious. (and that was being vain in using a big word) Some Scripture scholars aren't worth trusting... see the NAB and an old post on this blog on 1 Tim 13:15.
I have a tiny, pocket-sized version of the KJV Bible. It has the New Testament, Psalms, and Proverbs. I have it at work, and I read it occasionally. Yesterday, I read through Psalm 89 and found a very interesting line:
"For who in heaven can be compared unto the LORD? who among the sons of the mighty can be likened unto the LORD? God is greatly to be feared in the assembly of the saints..." (Ps 89:6-7)
(screeching to a halt)
Wait, this is the Protestant translation par excellence (there's that vanity again) and it mentions the assembly of the saints? Just for kicks, I looked up the wording in the other translations that I have on hand.
RSV-CE (my translation of choice)
"For who in the skies can be compared to the LORD? Who among the heavenly beings is like the LORD..."
a newer KJV that I don't know what version it is other than I got from a Mormon...
"For who in the heaven can be compared unto the LORD? Who among the sons of the mighty can be likened to the LORD?"
New Jerusalem
"Who in the skies can compare with Y----h? Who among the sons of god (little g) can rival him?"
NAB
"The heavens proclaim your wonders, O LORD, and your faithfulness, in the assembly of the holy ones. Who is like the LORD among the sons of God (big G)?"
Douay-Rheims
"The heavens shall confess thy wonders, O LORD, and thy truth in the church of the saints. For who in the clouds can be compared to the LORD: or who among the sons of God shall be like to God?"
Both highlighted phrases seem to refer to each other, according to the footnote in one of the translations. Isn't it interesting how those versions came out so different? I'm afraid I don't really have a conclusion or any other insights. The only thing that makes me give scholars a break is that Hebrew is tremendously difficult to translate--Hebrew and English are very, very different languages. One of the interesting parts of past Bible studies has been the use of different translations... some good, some bad. All illuminating, really.
I have a tiny, pocket-sized version of the KJV Bible. It has the New Testament, Psalms, and Proverbs. I have it at work, and I read it occasionally. Yesterday, I read through Psalm 89 and found a very interesting line:
"For who in heaven can be compared unto the LORD? who among the sons of the mighty can be likened unto the LORD? God is greatly to be feared in the assembly of the saints..." (Ps 89:6-7)
(screeching to a halt)
Wait, this is the Protestant translation par excellence (there's that vanity again) and it mentions the assembly of the saints? Just for kicks, I looked up the wording in the other translations that I have on hand.
RSV-CE (my translation of choice)
"For who in the skies can be compared to the LORD? Who among the heavenly beings is like the LORD..."
a newer KJV that I don't know what version it is other than I got from a Mormon...
"For who in the heaven can be compared unto the LORD? Who among the sons of the mighty can be likened to the LORD?"
New Jerusalem
"Who in the skies can compare with Y----h? Who among the sons of god (little g) can rival him?"
NAB
"The heavens proclaim your wonders, O LORD, and your faithfulness, in the assembly of the holy ones. Who is like the LORD among the sons of God (big G)?"
Douay-Rheims
"The heavens shall confess thy wonders, O LORD, and thy truth in the church of the saints. For who in the clouds can be compared to the LORD: or who among the sons of God shall be like to God?"
Both highlighted phrases seem to refer to each other, according to the footnote in one of the translations. Isn't it interesting how those versions came out so different? I'm afraid I don't really have a conclusion or any other insights. The only thing that makes me give scholars a break is that Hebrew is tremendously difficult to translate--Hebrew and English are very, very different languages. One of the interesting parts of past Bible studies has been the use of different translations... some good, some bad. All illuminating, really.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
The Perspective of Age, Debt, and Marriage
For starters, insert the appropriate "it's been how long since I wrote something on my blog???" comment. Today I read through a paper/article/reflection that I wrote a while ago. I could recognize my own writing, naturally, but it sounded a little different. I pinpointed a word or two and found what bothered me: my reflection was nice but naive. It was peppy and light-hearted... one of my supervisors at work called me bubbly the other day, and I couldn't believe it; that's not how I would describe myself. Still, it was there in that reflection. If I wrote that reflection today, it seems like it would be completely different. I don't see the world with the same eyes. Maybe I'm still "bubbly" (???) but I'm not so naive.
I see with different eyes now because I've experienced so much more of life. The wisdom of living more years, suffering more, having more joys, and having a mortgage. When I was looking ahead to marriage, I didn't have any idea about those things. Suffering? Well yeah, of course, suffering is a given in every state of life. But wouldn't marriage be the wonderful, blessed relationship that I ached for in the seminary? Yes and yes. But we've experienced our share of suffering, too; things that took us by surprise. Marriage also involves dying to yourself--which sucks. A definite necessity but difficult.
I also never felt the burden of a mortgage and not making a large salary. I can now understand my parents' anxieties a little better. A change (or loss) of either my job or my wife's job would result in us tightening our belts. We've had "just in case" conversations about that, and it's startling to think about canceling cable (however superficial that is) or, in the worst case, selling the house.
Different eyes, indeed.
I see with different eyes now because I've experienced so much more of life. The wisdom of living more years, suffering more, having more joys, and having a mortgage. When I was looking ahead to marriage, I didn't have any idea about those things. Suffering? Well yeah, of course, suffering is a given in every state of life. But wouldn't marriage be the wonderful, blessed relationship that I ached for in the seminary? Yes and yes. But we've experienced our share of suffering, too; things that took us by surprise. Marriage also involves dying to yourself--which sucks. A definite necessity but difficult.
I also never felt the burden of a mortgage and not making a large salary. I can now understand my parents' anxieties a little better. A change (or loss) of either my job or my wife's job would result in us tightening our belts. We've had "just in case" conversations about that, and it's startling to think about canceling cable (however superficial that is) or, in the worst case, selling the house.
Different eyes, indeed.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Seeing Virtue, One of the Virtues of Fiction
For a number of years, I'd say that a hobby of mine is that I love to read. As much as I'd like to think that it has always described me, this is occasionally true at best. Often I choose TV or the company of my wife over reading. Lately, I've torn through four fiction books in the span of a couple months. The original idea came from this post from The Art of Manliness blog: the 50 best fiction adventure books.
At the time I was reading a very interesting history book, Eamon Duffy's Fires of Faith: Catholic England Under Mary Tudor. My love of England (of which I am guilty, with apologies to my Irish ancestry), coupled with the history of the Tudor family (which has fascinated me since college), then adding an exoneration of Queen Mary (faults, yes; horrible demon of a monarch, no)--all that made me buy the book and begin it in earnest. Three months later, it still sat on my nightstand, half-finished.
After coming upon the Art of Manliness blog post for a second time, I thought I'd read a little fiction. I remembered how quickly I'd rip through a Vince Flynn novel or a Dirk Pitt adventure. As I mentioned before, I've read four very entertaining books since.
The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien
King Solomon's Mines, by H. Rider Haggard
The Bourne Identity, by Robert Ludlum
She, by H. Rider Haggard
I wanted to write a little about the virtues of fiction, with little bits about each book.
First, one of the great values of fiction is a superficial one. After spending 9 hours at a place that I don't want to be, then doing various chores (cooking dinner, dishes, etc.), and finally sitting down to relax, it's hard to engage in reading a scholarly book. For me, it doesn't matter if it's a history book that interests me or a theological book that I know would nourish me spiritually. Those books require devotion, time, and energy. Fiction is far easier to read, and fun besides.
Second, great things can be found in fiction novels. This is what The Art of Manliness blog post picked up. The tales contain all sorts of virtues and lessons, if we deign to look deeply enough. In The Hobbit, for example, there is a great lesson in testing one's limits. Bilbo Baggins, the main character, is quite content to live his life quietly. An adventure is literally thrust upon him--such a one that he thinks is far beyond his capacity. Throughout the story, however, he surprises himself at every turn. He was never incapable of heroic things at all! It only took the opportunity.
A great lesson in The Bourne Identity is the basic goodness of man. Here was a CIA operative who was trained to be a deadly assassin... who goes through a number of traumatic events... when the slate of his mind is wiped clean by amnesia in the beginning of the book, he still is capable of good things! No matter how much his past weighed him down, his heart was still able to love.
Third--this comes straight from the blog post, this isn't my thought--it is good for men to read adventure stories. Why are comic book movies so popular now? Why was Indiana Jones such a hit? There are many reasons, but one of them derives from a man's fascination with adventure. And here I intend "man" to mean "males," as I can't speak for how these tales affect women. It's a bit hard to put into words other than in generalities. I love quests! Hidden treasure! Battles! Spies catching bad guys! Masculine friendship that's deep and entirely heterosexual! That is, there's no hidden meanings or Freudian slips; there is a special and unique value of men having male friends, just as there is with women having female friends. All those things were in the fiction novels that I read.
Saint stories inspire us to holiness; by analogy, I think we can safely say that fiction-adventure books inspire us to further virtue. How can I not be affected, reading how Bilbo saved the lives of his dwarf friends multiple times? Or how Jason Bourne, when all seemed lost, still tried to catch the bad guy and clear his name? Allan Quartermain, fighting valiantly in battle! Or the characters of two native women saving the life of two adventurers (in both Mines and She)! Testing the boundaries of our capabilities (and sensibilities) and exploring a lost world!
Pass the popcorn.
At the time I was reading a very interesting history book, Eamon Duffy's Fires of Faith: Catholic England Under Mary Tudor. My love of England (of which I am guilty, with apologies to my Irish ancestry), coupled with the history of the Tudor family (which has fascinated me since college), then adding an exoneration of Queen Mary (faults, yes; horrible demon of a monarch, no)--all that made me buy the book and begin it in earnest. Three months later, it still sat on my nightstand, half-finished.
After coming upon the Art of Manliness blog post for a second time, I thought I'd read a little fiction. I remembered how quickly I'd rip through a Vince Flynn novel or a Dirk Pitt adventure. As I mentioned before, I've read four very entertaining books since.
The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien
King Solomon's Mines, by H. Rider Haggard
The Bourne Identity, by Robert Ludlum
She, by H. Rider Haggard
I wanted to write a little about the virtues of fiction, with little bits about each book.
First, one of the great values of fiction is a superficial one. After spending 9 hours at a place that I don't want to be, then doing various chores (cooking dinner, dishes, etc.), and finally sitting down to relax, it's hard to engage in reading a scholarly book. For me, it doesn't matter if it's a history book that interests me or a theological book that I know would nourish me spiritually. Those books require devotion, time, and energy. Fiction is far easier to read, and fun besides.
Second, great things can be found in fiction novels. This is what The Art of Manliness blog post picked up. The tales contain all sorts of virtues and lessons, if we deign to look deeply enough. In The Hobbit, for example, there is a great lesson in testing one's limits. Bilbo Baggins, the main character, is quite content to live his life quietly. An adventure is literally thrust upon him--such a one that he thinks is far beyond his capacity. Throughout the story, however, he surprises himself at every turn. He was never incapable of heroic things at all! It only took the opportunity.
A great lesson in The Bourne Identity is the basic goodness of man. Here was a CIA operative who was trained to be a deadly assassin... who goes through a number of traumatic events... when the slate of his mind is wiped clean by amnesia in the beginning of the book, he still is capable of good things! No matter how much his past weighed him down, his heart was still able to love.
Third--this comes straight from the blog post, this isn't my thought--it is good for men to read adventure stories. Why are comic book movies so popular now? Why was Indiana Jones such a hit? There are many reasons, but one of them derives from a man's fascination with adventure. And here I intend "man" to mean "males," as I can't speak for how these tales affect women. It's a bit hard to put into words other than in generalities. I love quests! Hidden treasure! Battles! Spies catching bad guys! Masculine friendship that's deep and entirely heterosexual! That is, there's no hidden meanings or Freudian slips; there is a special and unique value of men having male friends, just as there is with women having female friends. All those things were in the fiction novels that I read.
Saint stories inspire us to holiness; by analogy, I think we can safely say that fiction-adventure books inspire us to further virtue. How can I not be affected, reading how Bilbo saved the lives of his dwarf friends multiple times? Or how Jason Bourne, when all seemed lost, still tried to catch the bad guy and clear his name? Allan Quartermain, fighting valiantly in battle! Or the characters of two native women saving the life of two adventurers (in both Mines and She)! Testing the boundaries of our capabilities (and sensibilities) and exploring a lost world!
Pass the popcorn.
Friday, June 8, 2012
I Want One Too...
On the continued subject of trying to get pregnant and the rosary, I wanted to write a little about our trip last week. We drove six hours north to East Wenatchee, WA (it's fun to say) to see a NaPro doctor there. Unfortunately the NaPro doctor in Pasco, WA (only four hours away!) retired the same week that Erin called about an appointment.
The appointment was on a Friday. The rosary I said the night before was on the Luminous Mysteries. I like that set an awful lot because of the fourth mystery: the Transfiguration. That was the subject of my first exegesis paper and it blew my mind. I was taught how to look through these gargantuan Theological Word dictionaries and Greek became a little more... who am I kidding? It was a bunch of squiggly lines before and after that class. Even if the paper wasn't so fun, I learned so much from it. Subsequently, the Transfiguration became one of my more favorite Gospel stories.
As I prayed the rosary the night before our appointment, the underlying purpose of the Transfiguration came to mind. I'd heard someone else say that Jesus gave an amazingly great gift to Peter, James, and John on that mountaintop. He knew ahead of time how great of a trial that His Passion would be for the apostles. For that brief moment, Jesus let them slip behind the curtain of heaven. We'll never know this side of heaven, but what if the experience of the Transfiguration was what helped John walk with Mary to Calvary? A glimpse of glory to strengthen for the suffering ahead. An oasis in a desert.
While I was praying that mystery, I started to ask for the same thing. Why can't we have a transfiguration moment? I started praying for a sign, which is abnormal for me. For whatever reason, I don't like asking for signs. I'm extremely comfortable with intercessory prayer, just not in asking for signs. And, in our case, we're in the middle of Calvary, not looking ahead to it. We had some hope for this new doctor, our first NaPro visit, but we'd let our hopes swell before... only to be crushed on day 28.
On our drive home, we were treated to about two hours of sunset. The picture below is proof, I believe, of "Ask, and it will be given you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you." (Matthew 7:7)
The appointment was on a Friday. The rosary I said the night before was on the Luminous Mysteries. I like that set an awful lot because of the fourth mystery: the Transfiguration. That was the subject of my first exegesis paper and it blew my mind. I was taught how to look through these gargantuan Theological Word dictionaries and Greek became a little more... who am I kidding? It was a bunch of squiggly lines before and after that class. Even if the paper wasn't so fun, I learned so much from it. Subsequently, the Transfiguration became one of my more favorite Gospel stories.
As I prayed the rosary the night before our appointment, the underlying purpose of the Transfiguration came to mind. I'd heard someone else say that Jesus gave an amazingly great gift to Peter, James, and John on that mountaintop. He knew ahead of time how great of a trial that His Passion would be for the apostles. For that brief moment, Jesus let them slip behind the curtain of heaven. We'll never know this side of heaven, but what if the experience of the Transfiguration was what helped John walk with Mary to Calvary? A glimpse of glory to strengthen for the suffering ahead. An oasis in a desert.
While I was praying that mystery, I started to ask for the same thing. Why can't we have a transfiguration moment? I started praying for a sign, which is abnormal for me. For whatever reason, I don't like asking for signs. I'm extremely comfortable with intercessory prayer, just not in asking for signs. And, in our case, we're in the middle of Calvary, not looking ahead to it. We had some hope for this new doctor, our first NaPro visit, but we'd let our hopes swell before... only to be crushed on day 28.
On our drive home, we were treated to about two hours of sunset. The picture below is proof, I believe, of "Ask, and it will be given you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you." (Matthew 7:7)
 |
| There was a mountain and bright light involved, He thought of everything... |
Friday, May 25, 2012
The Infertility Mysteries
As my beloved wife and I continue to wait for a pregnancy, I've had many chances to reflect on our struggles. Out of concerns of privacy I won't go into great detail. I can say for me that any strong recollection of our baby Bernadette Hope (miscarriage last February) usually waters my eyes. Sometimes seeing a picture of an ultrasound is difficult. Overall, it's very hard when we're doing everything we can to get pregnant... and no good news.
I think I mentioned before that I've been praying the rosary on my drive home--it was Erin's idea originally. It's a great time for praying and it's two spiritual exercises in one: fasting from listening to the radio or the DP Show and praying a rosary. A recent insight came with the Joyful Mysteries. There are a lot of insights into the struggles faced by couples struggling with infertility (IF for short).
First Mystery: the Annunciation
Every couple trying to conceive begs for that moment... "you're pregnant!" Granted, we get the news from a stick and some little lines; haven't heard of the archangel Gabriel bringing any more glad tidings since that wonderful day. The thing to pray for on this mystery is the willingness to be joyful when others get pregnant. New life is new life, no matter how good or bad a situation may be.
Second Mystery: the Visitation
This is a celebration of pregnancy... John the Baptist dancing in the womb! Mary and Elizabeth, two unlikely mothers, rejoicing and giving praise to God! However, the praise carries less meaning if we forget how long it took Elizabeth to conceive. The way the Gospel of Luke describes her is: "But they had no child, because Elizabeth was barren" (1:7). So, not only did Elizabeth have to deal with it on her own, but it was apparently a plainly known fact that she was barren. Lovely! Imagine what the other women said at the water well! At the market! And in those days, barrenness was seen as a curse from God or the results of sins; either hers or her parents'.
On this mystery we should pray for all women struggling with infertility. She has to deal with it; her marriage has to cope with it... and no matter how private the couple keeps it, the community notices. While all the other young couples are starting families, IF couples are forced to wait.
Third Mystery: the Nativity
The road to having a child can be a lot more complicated than expected. We should pray for all IF couples that they have strength for the journey.
Fourth Mystery: the Presentation in the Temple
Mary and Joseph lost Jesus for three days. Many lose children in the womb as we did, and the pain bores deep into the heart. On this mystery, we should pray for all of those who have gone through a miscarriage. Even more prayers for those who experienced more than one.
I think I mentioned before that I've been praying the rosary on my drive home--it was Erin's idea originally. It's a great time for praying and it's two spiritual exercises in one: fasting from listening to the radio or the DP Show and praying a rosary. A recent insight came with the Joyful Mysteries. There are a lot of insights into the struggles faced by couples struggling with infertility (IF for short).
First Mystery: the Annunciation
Every couple trying to conceive begs for that moment... "you're pregnant!" Granted, we get the news from a stick and some little lines; haven't heard of the archangel Gabriel bringing any more glad tidings since that wonderful day. The thing to pray for on this mystery is the willingness to be joyful when others get pregnant. New life is new life, no matter how good or bad a situation may be.
Second Mystery: the Visitation
This is a celebration of pregnancy... John the Baptist dancing in the womb! Mary and Elizabeth, two unlikely mothers, rejoicing and giving praise to God! However, the praise carries less meaning if we forget how long it took Elizabeth to conceive. The way the Gospel of Luke describes her is: "But they had no child, because Elizabeth was barren" (1:7). So, not only did Elizabeth have to deal with it on her own, but it was apparently a plainly known fact that she was barren. Lovely! Imagine what the other women said at the water well! At the market! And in those days, barrenness was seen as a curse from God or the results of sins; either hers or her parents'.
On this mystery we should pray for all women struggling with infertility. She has to deal with it; her marriage has to cope with it... and no matter how private the couple keeps it, the community notices. While all the other young couples are starting families, IF couples are forced to wait.
Third Mystery: the Nativity
The road to having a child can be a lot more complicated than expected. We should pray for all IF couples that they have strength for the journey.
Fourth Mystery: the Presentation in the Temple
Here we can count Our Lady of Sorrows as our companion. Imagine a joyful occasion--consecrating Jesus according to the Mosaic Law--broken into by a prophecy of suffering. Simeon rejoiced at first but then warned Mary that a sword would pierce her heart. On this mystery, please, Our Mother, pray for us. A sword pierces the hearts of every IF couple that's trying! Stabat Mater dolorosa, ora pro nobis.
Fifth Mystery: Finding of the Child Jesus in the Temple
Mary and Joseph lost Jesus for three days. Many lose children in the womb as we did, and the pain bores deep into the heart. On this mystery, we should pray for all of those who have gone through a miscarriage. Even more prayers for those who experienced more than one.
Monday, April 9, 2012
How Much Is Really Missing?
Lately (well, that's generous, it's been a week and a half or so), I've been praying the rosary on my drive home from work. It was on the suggestion of my beloved wife; for some reason, it's easier to pray the rosary on our respective drives home than it is to remember to say it together every night. That's not meant to be negative in any way... and on the drive home, I'm fasting in a very small way by not listening to music or podcasts.
To celebrate the Octave of Easter, I prayed the Glorious Mysteries today. As my mind drifted a little bit, I wondered why we have the mysteries we do. Other than the Luminous Mysteries, I confess my ignorance of the origin of the other three sets of mysteries. Then I digressed further, wondering why Bl. John Paul II didn't create further sets of mysteries. He could've gone nuts! There could be the Healing Mysteries (like the man born blind, paralytic lowered through the roof, the raising of Lazarus, the daughter of Jairus, etc.), or the Spiritual Warfare Mysteries (curing of the various demoniacs, rebuking of Peter, Gethsemane, the temptation in the desert, etc.), or the Conversion of Heart Mysteries (Saul of Tarsus, Zaccheus, Thomas on Holy Saturday, road to Emmaus, etc.). With the abundance of powerful Gospel stories, the possibilities are vast!
Yet when I came to the second Glorious Mystery, the Ascension of Jesus, I realized there was a lot more to it than just a divine elevator. I count it as an insight of the Holy Spirit: buried within the mystery of the Ascension is the great mystery of the Church. Why didn't Jesus stick around longer? We don't have any answer to that, except the Church. Because of a reason known only to God, He wanted mankind to spread the Good News. As soon as Jesus ascended, an angel appeared to the apostles and said, "What are you looking up in the sky for? Get to work." We don't know why God did it this way, only that He did.
The mystery of the Church is an awful big one to consider. There's enough in the current mysteries of the rosaries to keep you thinking, if you cast your nets into the deep.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Respect for Authority
Earlier this week I went to the soon-to-be-defunct Theology Uncorked in Mt. Angel. The topic was conversion of heart, especially in light of Lent. Daniel, a friend in the parish, gave the talk and it was great!
With all due respect to the content of his talk (top notch), the biggest thing I walked away with was nothing he said; it was how he said it. As he was talking, there was no doubt in my mind that he believed every word that he spoke. He was so excited about the truth! Honestly, it’s very refreshing to hear. So often we strip the WORD of His power, forgetting its fire.
In the early days of Theology Uncorked, one of my best friends gave a very interesting talk about the modern “I’m spiritual, not religious” paradigm. One of his best points was that many people that fall into that category are looking for something sincere and genuine. Of course, the paradigm is entirely subjective; it’s impossible to nail down a single cause. Still, I thought he made a really good point.
Both of those Theology Uncorked nuggets brought me to Luke 4:32. “And they were astonished at His teaching, for His word was with authority.” The two words that elevate the verse are ‘astonished’ and ‘authority.’ Taken in order of priority, ‘authority’ comes first. That’s what my friend Daniel spoke with, though he was never arrogant, overbearing, or self-absorbed. When the human instrument surrenders to the Truth, the Incarnate Word—stunning things can happen. Jesus, of course, did this perfectly. And the same Holy Spirit that was infused in Him is given to us! The unfettered power of the Word Who IS can astonish, amaze, work miracles, and strike deep into the heart of the listener and speaker.
That is the voice we need to bring to the world.
With all due respect to the content of his talk (top notch), the biggest thing I walked away with was nothing he said; it was how he said it. As he was talking, there was no doubt in my mind that he believed every word that he spoke. He was so excited about the truth! Honestly, it’s very refreshing to hear. So often we strip the WORD of His power, forgetting its fire.
In the early days of Theology Uncorked, one of my best friends gave a very interesting talk about the modern “I’m spiritual, not religious” paradigm. One of his best points was that many people that fall into that category are looking for something sincere and genuine. Of course, the paradigm is entirely subjective; it’s impossible to nail down a single cause. Still, I thought he made a really good point.
Both of those Theology Uncorked nuggets brought me to Luke 4:32. “And they were astonished at His teaching, for His word was with authority.” The two words that elevate the verse are ‘astonished’ and ‘authority.’ Taken in order of priority, ‘authority’ comes first. That’s what my friend Daniel spoke with, though he was never arrogant, overbearing, or self-absorbed. When the human instrument surrenders to the Truth, the Incarnate Word—stunning things can happen. Jesus, of course, did this perfectly. And the same Holy Spirit that was infused in Him is given to us! The unfettered power of the Word Who IS can astonish, amaze, work miracles, and strike deep into the heart of the listener and speaker.
That is the voice we need to bring to the world.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Happy Feast Day!
Today is the feast of Our Lady of Lourdes! It's a special devotion both in my family and in my personal history.
Starting chronologically, with the story itself... I love it! Bernadette was a normal little girl who was granted an amazing vision of the Blessed Mother. She was simple, unschooled, and sick (with tuberculosis) girl. But she must've had an amazingly pure, loving heart--not only to merit being chosen for the apparition but to endure the craziness that followed. The apparitions caused quite a frenzy in the small town; Bernadette went through very intent scrutiny from both the civil and religious leaders. Later in life, as a nun in a nearby convent, Bernadette's suffering continued until her death at the age of 35.
Continuing chronologically, in 1979 I was baptized on this day. :)
In the ensuing years, I remember my grandparents having a "statue" of the grotto, with Mary and St. Bernadette there. Along the side of the grotto were crutches and canes, left by those who were cured. This was something neat for me to see as a kid; it was even more special when my dad received it upon the passing of my grandmother.
Next, when I was in college, I studied abroad for one semester in London. It was 1999. For one long weekend, I made the trek down to Lourdes. I've written about my trip before, so I'll stick to the one prominent memory of it that stands head and shoulders above the rest. I felt so loved and so special. Even thinking about it makes me smile, nearly 13 years later! It was a wonderful grace from God, to feel so loved by His Mother. And, indeed, she has that same love for everyone! Seeing the complete & uncontainable love that Jesus had for all of us, is it any wonder that His Mother feels the same? We are dear to her!
Years after my trip, I came to a greater appreciation of the human side of saints. Not like I never did in the past, far from it (don't have to read very much of Augustine to see that he was human). Still, at some point I rediscovered the above picture of St. Bernadette. She was real! Just a kid! The amazing things I see in her are twofold: that God worked through a normal person and that even the most ordinary person is capable of great holiness.
In 2009 I met this pretty redheaded girl. :) I found out her confirmation name was Bernadette! What happy circumstance! That's not why I married Erin, of course. It felt like Our Lady was tapping me on the shoulder, saying hello, reminding me that she was still taking care of me.
Finally, my wife and I experienced the most crushing pain to date in our lives. On Valentine's Day in 2011, we found out at the ultrasound appointment that our baby had miscarried. One of the ways that we grieved through the loss of our baby was to name her. (we figured it was a girl) We named her Bernadette Hope Kubasak. The first name was because it was special to both of us and the middle name as a reminder of the future.
God has blessed me so much through Mary, Queen of the Angels, Mother of the Savior, and my Lady of Lourdes!
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