He Blinded Me With Silence

Readings for the Seventh Sunday of Easter, Cycle A

The Apostles were gathered with the Holy Mother, “devot[ing] themselves with one accord to prayer” (Ac 1:14). That is to say, they expressed with unity and fervor their desire to respond to the wise and loving Creator whose initiative always anticipates our own. Together they formed the heart of the infant Church who awaited the promised Holy Spirit, the seal of adoption as God’s Beloved Sons. Having received Our Lord’s call to unity, holiness, and mission, most notably at the very mountain of His Ascension (cf. Mt 28:20), the Apostles hunkered down for their first novena, imploring the divine empowerment needed to bring the Church to term. This grace God promises in abundant measure not only to the Apostles and their successors the Bishops, but to all who seek Him earnestly; and this great legacy of teaching, liturgy, morality, and prayer is found most reliably in the Holy Catholic Church (cf. CCC 1-3).

I’d bet that the Apostles’ novena included as much silence as speech. Like any conversation, prayer ideally includes both elements. The philosopher and mathematician Blaise Pascal once attributed all the world’s problems to people not being able to sit quietly by themselves in an empty room. For this malaise we must thank the untamed ego that asserts itself “every which way but loose,” fruitlessly seeking to fill the God-sized hole in our hearts.

In St. Peter’s first epistle we are warned of the difference between suffering for noble causes such as our faith, and suffering as a result of evils we have committed. Now it is true that the sins of our past may cause us hardship, but even this can purify and strengthen us as we daily commend ourselves to the Lord. Peter is speaking here about those who are not at first inclined to repent of their evils. Note the categories he mentions: “a murderer, a thief, an evildoer, or as an intriguer” (1Pe 4:13).

That last one, translated “intriguer,” is curious: ἀλλοτριεπίσκοπος is a person who watches over another person’s business—a meddler, a mischief-maker. Placed in the same category as a murderer! We are not talking about someone who is merely impolite, or who lacks clear boundaries. The intentional stirring-up of jealousies, confusion, irritation, gossip, criticism, and discord is a sin! Suddenly it isn’t so strange to think that Pope Francis has preached so often and vehemently about these matters in his daily homilies and weekly addresses, and this without ignoring other infractions of the Ten Commandments.

The tender prayer of Jesus to His Father precedes His paschal “hour” of suffering, death, resurrection, and ascension. In it He offers to the Father you, and me, and every human person who has ever lived or who will ever live. Jesus’ prayer further reveals His clear focus on doing His Father’s will steadfastly and serenely, despite the drama that surrounded His earthly life, from the intrigue of infancy to the commotion of Calvary. Wouldn’t you like to live with such quiet strength, come what may? So would I. Let’s sit quietly in a room for a little while, and see what happens.

What A Holy Order!

For all the technological progress that humanity has made in the past decades, we have yet to bridle our stubborn spirits. In our relative ease, it's easy to see this on a large scale with the volatile governments of Ukraine and Venezuela, or the senseless, horrific things that happen on our own shores; but we must first, and always, look within. We can be quick to emit our venom; or if our so-called civility urges restraint, the poison may ooze forth in words and glances.

Mosaic Law had called for “an eye for an eye” in order to avert disproportionate punishments. Even in Jesus’ own day, Herod granted the head of John the Baptist to declare his delight for a dirty dancer! Therefore Jesus’ coming was most opportune, with its invitation to espouse a new perspective, a new respect: a new Law to be written upon our hearts, written by our hearts onto the hearts of others.

What great courage and resolve the Lord requires, to be “holy” and “perfect” as the Father is! Most of us wilt in the face of such an invitation. Jesus doesn’t rush to soften the blow of the challenge; instead, He doubles down in His attempts to impress upon us a higher calling, to “turn the other cheek,” “go the extra mile,” “love your enemies” and all that nonsense.

Yeah, that’s right. You heard me call it “nonsense.” When we fudge on Jesus’ commandment of sacrificial love, when we make exceptions in our minds for certain ones on our list whom we fancy or whom we don’t, when we avoid the people and situations that might upset our delicate balance or inconvenience our schedules, we’re essentially throwing it all out, calling it nonsense.

We more likely consider growth in virtue as something we agree with and admire, and on good days strive to undertake, but no less a struggle. Persons in recovery are familiar with a certain line from the  "Big Book" of Alcoholics Anonymous: "What an order! I can't go through with it!" As often as the difficulty hits us, we can take a deep breath, find support from God and others, and march on.

"You'll be better before you're married," they used to say upstate.

To be fair, defiance isn’t always on our minds; but self-interest certainly tends to be. The Lord encourages us not to cling excessively to how we think our lives should unfold each day, and who deserves our time and attention, in favor of His sometimes distressing, but always fulfilling, surprises.

How can we possibly fulfill God’s command to be holy? Because we are holy. “Do you not know,” Paul asks, “that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?” No conditions are mentioned. What a consolation, that God wouldn’t lead us where His grace wouldn’t feed us. So go ahead: write that Law of sacrificial love—write it in big letters with flourishes!

The Stuff of Saints, Part the First

In an earlier post, patient reader (or should I call you Theophilus?), I mentioned that, on Monday the 28th, I would be speaking to young adults on the subject of "Becoming a Saint in the 21st Century." Only since Monday did I recognize that Friday is "All Saints Day." The topic of presentation was apropos of the upcoming Holy Day, so the timing is Godly!

(The Diocese of Allentown had something to do with it, I grant. The Diocese works for God...though, in a certain sense, God works for the Diocese!)

I broke the topic into two major segments: "Becoming a Saint" and "In the 21st Century," and I began with the latter. Everyone in the room was a resident of the 21st century for the same amount of time, which is more than I could say for some of the venues I work (e.g. our elementary school)!

The most important things I noted about being a resident in the 21st century were:

• Technology, as evidenced by the "smartphone." The sheer inescapability of it, the overwhelmingness, the thrill, the headaches of it! The instant access to information, true or false, helpful or baneful. The ability to connect with people through social media (or, perhaps, the ability to fabricate a profile by which one can "interact" with a similarly-fabricated profile).
• The importance of education, for purposes beyond the mere content, and the pressure to continue education beyond the high school and undergraduate levels.
• Openness to new ideas: "searching," viz. experimenting with and "sharing" philosophies, religions, relationships, in the hopes of furthering self-discovery.
• Mobility, local, social, occupational, et-ceteral.
• Fluidity that extends even to ideas, even to the point that what one person holds as true, another may not, without recrimination or scrutiny, which derives in part from
• Relativism, the idea that any idea (especially my idea) is as valid as others. Substitute "faith/religious practice" if you wish.

What to do, in this marketplace of ideas? Is there a manual? Is there any sort of standardization to us "seekers"? Catholicism and Orthodoxy persist in positing a human nature that is universal, with its faculties of intellect and will that God made to understand truth and pursue goodness. We aren't actualized unless we are intent on understanding truth and pursuing goodness.

There is a big emphasis today on uniqueness. Cherished Catholic figures have relevant quotations:

• "Be who you are and be that well." (St. Francis deSales)
• "Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire." (St. Catharine of Siena)
• “To lift up the hands in prayer gives God glory, but a man with a dungfork in his hand, a woman with a slop pail, give Him glory, too. God is so great that all things give Him glory if you mean that they should." (Gerard Manley Hopkins), whose entire poetic corpus is relevant. Special emphasis on "As Kingfishers Draw Fire, Dragonflies Draw Flame," which I quoted in the talk. Hopkins reflected the post-Scholastic philosophical stress on the individuality, or "this-ness," of each created entity.

As for becoming a saint, I don't know if everyone gathered that evening had aspirations for sanctity. Sometimes I don't know if I do. The aggregate of saints, canonized and not, speaks to us about the desire for God that is written on the human heart. You may also call it the desire for self-transcendence--with which conscientious human persons of any or no religious persuasion will identify, though perhaps with a little bit of help.

It is crucial to admit the existence and relevance of anything outside of the self. The failure to do so may well epitomize the human condition. Recovering addicts speak of a God in terms of a "higher power," but is there an "other" power? Note that the Hebrew word for holy, qadosh, at its heart means "other." When the angels were declaring the thrice-holiness of God (cf. Is 6:3), they cried out, "Qadosh, Qadosh, Qadosh!" "Other, Other, Other!" To be holy, then, is to be set apart...unique!

Since this talk was intended for Catholic Christians of this or any century, we needed to cite certain transcendent characteristics of holiness:

Obedience to the Commandments. Stipulated by the Lord as a proof of one's love for Him (cf. Jn 14:15). Nobody likes to be told what to do and what to avoid, so maybe it would mollify us to hear the commandments described as "enshrinements of positive conduct that fosters a well-ordered society, a communion of persons like unto the Trinity."

Virtues: Stable dispositions to choose the good amid the various circumstances of life. Temperance, patience, kindness, humility, diligence, chastity, and charity: these are seven contraries to the “deadly sins."

Prayer: traditionally understood as “lifting heart and mind to God” (St. John Chrysostom). St. Teresa of Avila: “a friendly way of dealing, in which we find ourselves talking in private, with Him whom we know loves us." Dr. Ralph Martin recently defined prayer as “paying attention to God." Referring everyone and everything in our lives to God—in real time, when possible (and when isn’t it?). This, however, doesn’t preclude fixed, regular “sessions” of prayer, in which we engage the Lord through the Liturgy, the Scriptures, the Rosary, worthy reading, the events of the day, etc.

More later.

"Unpacking the Precepts": Preliminary Reflections

Catechists (teachers of the Faith) often present Catholic doctrines in lists.  There are four cardinal virtues, seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, eight beatitudes, and ten commandments.  Teachers present the lists and unpack the details of each item on the lists.  The Internet makes information readily available, so memorization doesn't seem to be advocated or necessary anymore.

Call me "old school," but I still appreciate the value of memorizing things.  Now, with these newfangled cell phones, I haven't been memorizing phone numbers in a few years; but I still can remember phone numbers I used to dial ("Dial"? What does that mean?).

In the next several posts I shall present and develop the individual items of an old, familiar list: the Precepts of the Church.  Paragraph 2041-2043 of the Catechism lists five precepts, although earlier lists contain six or seven.  I shall treat the CCC five as well as two other precepts which, for whatever reason, failed to make the cut.

(Some scholars will list the book of Joshua and perhaps even Judges among the books of the Pentateuch, thereby renaming it the "Hexateuch" or "Heptateuch"!  Whither the disparities among catechetical lists?  The best answer lies in the axiom, "Academia thrives on disagreement.")

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We can begin with the CCC glossary definition of the Precepts of the Church:

Positive laws (sometimes called commandments) made by Church authorities to guarantee for the faithful the indispensable minimum in prayer and moral effort, for the sake of their growth in love of God and neighbor.

St. Thomas Aquinas defines "law" as "a certain ordinance of reason for the common good, promulgated by him who has care for the community."  Perhaps we will notice how this definition supports the precepts of the Church.

Positive laws (commandments): The Catholic Church is often stereotyped by her negative precepts.  "Thou shalt not" do...just about everything!  What can or ought we do?  Look no further!  There is infinite freedom to "live Christ."

Made by Church authorities: Members of most other earthly bodies would recognize the right and responsibility of those earthly bodies to craft liturgical, moral, and procedural rules for the sake of maintaining group identity and order.  But people so often question the Church's rights to do these same things for these same reasons.  They may fail to see Christ actively at work in the Church's teaching authority, in contrast to His more visible and acceptable presence in the discharge of corporal works of mercy.  The former makes possible the latter.

To guarantee...the indispensable minimum in prayer and moral effort: I don't know which came first: the theoretical establishment of a minimum or the practical observance of it.  Some years ago I came across a sign on a priest's desk that read, "What's the least I must do to avoid mortal sin?"  It seems mildly irreverent to put it that way, but to be honest, I'm not always eagerly advancing "from glory to glory."

Jesus' threefold interrogation of Peter (in the Greek) comes to mind.  "Simon, do you love Me [in terms of laying down your life for me]?  Not quite?  Well, do you love Me [as a friend]?" (cf. Jn 21:15-17)  If Jesus accepts from no less than His chief shepherd the love of friends in the provisional absence of sacrificial love, then I'm better off than I might think.  Of course, neither for Peter nor for me will lesser loves suffice.  Discipleship is all about disposing myself to growth in love of God and neighbor.

At the outset, the CCC reminded us: The precepts of the Church are set in the context of a moral life bound to and nourished by liturgical life.  Whether you are observing the Church's precepts won't much matter to you if you are absenting yourself from the Lord's Day assembly and not bothering to form your conscience properly.  Sincere attempts to obey the commandments and beatitudes, devotion to the Lord, to Our Lady, and to the saints: these are a "given" that, unfortunately, cannot be taken for granted in this age.