A Fifth of Containment Considerations

Though there be "nothing new under the sun," we just keep on feigning innovation. Take this blog. Please!

"With such affection for you, we were determined to share with you not only the gospel of God, but our very selves as well, so dearly beloved had you become to us" (1 Thess 2:8); or this blog's byline from the Sufferer:  "Would that my words were written down" (Job 19:23).

Whether these candid admissions are prescriptive or descriptive elements of Scripture, they reveal the desire to reveal that God has installed in the heart of every person by dint of his or her unique creation in His Image, which is Heaven-bent on Self-Disclosure.

Another snippet of personal revelation occurs to me, from None Other than Our Lord Himself. How much of an eisegetical stretch is it to hear a tinge of sadness* in His Sacred Voice (≠ disappointment, as if He didn't expect it) when people backed away from Him at the mountain of John 6:

Numquid et vos vultis abire? Certainly you also don't want to go away?

A brief review of Latin interrogative conjunctions suggests the expected answer to numquid? (elision of nunc quid--"now what?") is negative. "No, Lord, we don't want to leave"--whence Simon Peter's confession:

Domine, ad quem ibimus? Lord, to whom shall we go?

We can't readily dismiss Peter's prophetic pence as pietistic. "We have, not even as a matter of choice, nowhere else to go for what You are and have and give." The words of eternal life, the real-food Flesh and real-drink Blood--it's a Jesus of Nazareth Exclusive, the only Public House in town.

Wherefore the denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance that, vapor-like, haunts the airwaves as Holy Week approaches without the offering of public Liturgy. The stage (or better, dimension) I read of most, because the Online is nothing if not a vent, is anger:

This is unacceptable, criminal, cowardly...exhibitionist!

I know that Mind-Reader isn't one of the minor orders en route to ordination. I'm reading exhibitionism into the sentiments expressed passim. 'Splain yourself, Lucy--so that your name, which means "light," might make things plain. Such is always my Desire. And I have a Ball with it.

While we're out here suffering without the Rations we need (not "deserve," we daren't say that), you're showing off your 24/7 Eucharistic access with your sloppy Novus Ordo Masses and homiletic cliches to beat the band--and that's just what they do: beat this band of banned Catholics into a condition unrecognizable.

Dramatic much? I have a history of it.

Sed contra:

By Christ's own Do-This, His Holy Sacrifice--Passover Renewed--is to be offered as the clearest expression of His ongoing Presence "until the end of the age" (Mt 28:20), for it encapsulates the Redeemer's Priestly, Prophetic, and Kingly service to a †.

Whether all the world gather for a Mass in one space or the priest alone celebrate it, everyone is present to Christ, Who is here-and-now submitting everyone to the Father in the power of the Holy Spirit. He re-presents that one, total, faithful, permanent, exclusive, and fruitful offering each time.

Far from dismissing the directive to "go (Ite), make disciples of all the nations," this truth reinforces  evangelical efforts. It commands everyone to live the Gospel as loudly as your volume goes. 11: looks like two towers, two swords, two books (Covenants Old and New) not meant for a shelf.

The more I read reports (whatever for?) the more I suspect COVID-19 will re-surface in waves, and not disappear in such a way that justifies the wholesale return to civilization--certainly not to Western Civilization and its consumerism of things and persons.

Said civilization's economy won't countenance further isolation before long, and maybe another Great Depression? Did such not eventually follow the Spanish flu epidemic? Our stock-markety Internet-gasoline-driven age will hasten the days.

Saint Augustine famously said every age considers its times unprecedentedly and unrepeatably evil (physical and moral). I must find the reference, as I advert to it often, but the cursory Googling mentions, self-helpily (and what else is Google?), that we are, or make, the times we live in.

The only problem is, there's too many to "we." We're not all alike, so it's hard to construe our condition confidently and concertedly. Sorry, the coffee has commandeered my consciousness.

While I'm at it, then, I will share a tidbit of the elder Father Z of the Internet, whose stalwart blog "What Does the Prayer Really Say" has gone on to say more than the prayers, if it ever so constricted itself.

This episode seized me because its title resonated with the direction I thought he'd be going, and sure enough, he lambasts the new formulary "in time of pandemic" for having said too much, [but not having] said enough. Not his words, though not mine either: it's the only R.E.M. song I ever think of.

Be thou warned: you'd better go to the bathroom before clicking.

In its 10-year-old attempts to tighten up the verbiage of the Ordinary Form of the Mass, the liturgical PTB ineluctably inject some of the same into newer collects, and this trend long pre-dates the 2011 editio typica tertia. The new wine of wordiness, and the old skins of syntax.

Speaking of wordiness (and that I do), how to strew the invisible palms of this weekend's webcasted worship ought to occupy me hereafter. We'll see, and hopefully, you'll see and hear.

+ + +

Because I am not of the "Leave Well-Enough Alone" style of resource management, I add a response from the Twitters to @teawithtolkien who is concerned about explaining the continuance of containment to her children without traumatizing them. @FrAndrewHart observed, "This is a good analogy for our bishops and some of the faithful right now ["hmmm face" emoji]."

My pesky irascible drive prompts sharp rebuke for those who smart over the current Liturgical and Sacramental drought. I pull back when I think of it in terms traumatic.

Everybody hurts, if I must retract my earlier statement regarding R.E.M., and everybody needs--deserves, regardless of appearance to eye or ear--some compassion, especially from those Jesus appointed as watchmen over the house of New Israel (cf. Ez 3:17ff).

Watchmen are lifeguards, and they need to put the mask on themselves before--admit it, while--affixing it to others.

*I say eisegetical ("reading into") because Saint John scarcely hints at sadness and uncertainty in his Gospel. Even on the Cross, Jesus is large and in-charge.

Our Stewardship of Suffering and Love

It sometimes occurs as a point of meditation that the saints are human just like us, but at the same time we are called to the same holiness as they. We do a great job, don’t we, of putting different folks on a pedestal, whether it be the saints, or various political or religious leaders or inspirational people in our lives. We know we’ve put them on a pedestal when they inevitably give us reason not to keep them there, and as a result we become outraged; perhaps, in a quieter moment, we might become embarrassed at the thought that we invested the person with such esteem and paid so much attention to what they said—never mind that their words may have been true and valuable, but suddenly their own imperfection or hypocrisy prompts us to call everything into question. Please God, with a little perspective we learn to sift through everything to retain what is of value.

Anyhow, Saint Paul reminds us today of the exalted dignity that all the baptized share. He calls it a “stewardship” (οîκονομία), which refers to a plan for attending to the concerns of an individual or a household. It's where we get the word "economy": the aggregate of transactions (usually financial, but not exclusively so) by which a community of persons keeps going. Paul’s “stewardship” was the mission entrusted to him by God for the communities he’d founded (we’d call them parishes or dioceses). We might find the term more relevant if we considered our family, workplace, and even our own bodies and souls as a stewardship. Paul’s mission was to proclaim the Word of God in Jesus Christ through doctrinal and moral instruction, in order to form active, growing believers. Our responsibility as disciples isn’t really that different: by example and by words we want to show people who Jesus is and what He means for the world. We do this not as “lone rangers,” but as persons baptized into the visible Body of Christ on earth, found most fully in the Catholic Church that the Lord Jesus founded and has sustained for nearly 2,000 years with believers and leaders such as us.

As a result, we want to cultivate our relationship with the Lord in and through the Church, so that people are drawn not merely to us with our personal gifts and drawbacks, but to the Lord living and acting in the Church. We may need to brush up on our appreciation of our great Catholic heritage so as to become the best possible witness.

Now most of us don't have a pulpit from which to proclaim any sort of message, nor do we have any kind of script. In the absence of laborious research and skillful oratory, there is one element in most lives that can provide a compelling witness, and that is our suffering. Strange to hear, perhaps, but God’s honest truth. St. Paul said to the Colossians, “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of His Body, which is the Church.” We’d be foolish to suppose that, because Jesus suffered for us, we shouldn’t have to suffer, we shouldn’t have to experience pain, inconvenience, humiliation, and all the rest. Jesus experienced upon the cross the suffering experienced by every person in every place and time, so that as we come to experience that suffering in our own time, it doesn't have to be purposeless: we are able to make it something of infinite value by offering it in union with the Lord for those in need of repentance and healing. Thus we can create a space in our lives for the "inconveniences" that visit us, like those three men who visited Abraham and Sarah, and they can become a channel of unexpected blessing.

And when we don’t necessarily have any suffering on our plate, the other legacy in which we always share is the Eucharist that unites us to the saints of every time and place. The very Body of Christ that suffered upon the Cross is sacramentally made present here and now and everywhere the ministerial priesthood is found. In our worthy reception of Holy Communion we share in the sufferings and joys of the whole Church across time and space. Why, therefore, waste an opportunity to suffer well? Why waste an opportunity to love well? Why waste a chance to learn from the Master where He is most concretely found—in the Host and in our neighbor?

We Are Not Alone

When Jesus sent seventy-two of his disciples out to share their stories of living in His story, He sent them out in pairs, like the "buddy system" we experienced as children. It is always good to have a little reinforcement, some extra encouragement, or challenge, when you need it. This describes the "Communion of Saints," the Church in heaven and the Church awaiting heaven, our brothers and sisters throughout the world and throughout the ages. In addition, the angels who eternally attend to the throne of God also show His providential care--especially our guardians who protect and intercede for us.

One concrete way to remember that we are never alone is the fact that Jesus gave us the Lord’s Prayer in the first person plural: God is our Father, who gives us daily bread, forgives our trespasses as we forgive, leads us not into temptation, and delivers us from evil.

It is important to know that we are not alone because the Evil One is not alone. Satan is the enemy of God’s plan, the enemy of man’s salvation. In league with that enemy are a host of other angels—beings of superior intelligence and freedom, just like the holy angels, but with the difference that they decided to invest that superior intelligence and freedom in a manner contrary to the desire of God. While they cannot best God, they seem to have a way with us human beings.

They do that by capitalizing upon our weak spots, which are our memory and our imagination: the ways we reflect on the past and the future. Remember in Genesis 3 how Satan injected doubt into the minds of the first man and woman, leading them to question whether (in the past) God really said we would die if we ate the forbidden fruit. Satan further polished that fruit to make it look more attractive, leading his customers to wonder how great they’d become (in the future) with all the power, pleasure, wealth, and prestige they could eat. No matter that they would be contravening the will of God in the process, that we would keep turning against one another by using violence and sex as tools for our advantage, meanwhile exponentially increasing our sense of loneliness.

Here’s the Good News: The offspring of the woman—Jesus, Son of God and Son of Mary—has crushed the head of the ancient serpent. He has delivered us from the eternal hold that sin, suffering, and death threaten to have over us. Our weaknesses need no longer define us. In the Genesis story, mercy showed itself in the fact that our first parents didn’t die as soon as they ate the fruit. That gave them, as it gives us whenever we sin, the chance to repent, to seek appropriate reconciliation, and to live again.

By God’s grace we can again appreciate what is beautiful, learn what is true, and choose what is good. That kind of activity contributes to the betterment of our world and the splendor of our God. People on the fence of faith can look at us when we’re striving to live that way and say, “This Jesus, this Catholic Church, is worth something. It might even be worth my life.”

Dire Straits?

In anticipation of the weekend’s readings, I read an article that treated a matter of personal and ecclesial concern. The people of the Coal Region once were known for, among other things, their deep identification with the Catholic faith. What happened to that?

The current religious and spiritual landscape is becoming increasingly arid. When I visit the hospital, I receive a roster of patients grouped according to parish membership. The largest classification is “Unaffiliated." It contains people of all ages. I sometimes feel like I’m trying to sell something to them! 

More to the point, I feel like Saint Paul as he lamented all the graces that his own people were failing to appreciate. Maybe his manner of expression was dramatic, maybe it was sincere; but he said he’d be happier losing his own relationship with the Lord if it meant that people could gain theirs.

So as to redirect my pessimistic tendencies, I found a more accurate way to express myself in the article I read: We can no longer count on the secure transmission of the faith from parents to children within the larger context of fervent families and parishes. 

For good or ill, people had a better chance of becoming and staying Catholic if they were of a traditionally Catholic ethnic background (e.g., Polish, Lithuanian, Italian). Cultural expressions and family traditions conveyed the faith as perfect supplements to sound Catholic schools and CCD programs. Of course, knowledge alone doesn't purvey genuine faith: one can get into even heady theological discussions where God is best incidental and at worst a bludgeoning tool.

On one hand, then, a person can have absolutely no experience with a community where God is praised, doctrines taught, and morals lived; on the other hand, one can learn everything about God, pay strict attention to rubrics, and do the right thing, but never come to know God personally. Neither scenario is ideal. What is? 

As a universal Church, as a diocese, as a parish, as families, and as individuals, we need to become the place where God is praised, doctrines taught, and morals lived, and all this propelled by a vibrant communion with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, with Mary and with all the saints and angels. If heaven and earth do not start to come together in us, here and now, we will never raise a generation who really cares about either.

In order to cultivate a real and living relationship with God, the first requirement is the ability and willingness to be silent. Face it: it’s not easy to be silent for long enough, like Elijah, to hear the “tiny whispering sound” of God. Our minds better resemble the storm-tossed boat in which the distraught disciples suddenly found faith. 

(By the way, “distraught” comes from an old adjective “distract,” which was an archaic past participle of “stretch.” You might say Peter and the other disciples, and every disciple since, has had to be stretched in order for faith to grow.)

The proliferation of sin prompts doubt about our worthiness of God. "I suffer from this or that failing. I rationalize my bad actions. I fear I may die without friends. My heart's desires will remain unfulfilled. Life has not dealt me a good hand. Untreated resentments about people and things in my past stew within me. I am distracted in every imaginable direction. I am beset by paralyzing fears, selfish attachments, and wayward drives. I’m a mess!”

Can we become honest enough with God and other people, to let them in? Are we that honest with ourselves? By His own admission, the Lord Jesus is the perfect audience, the perfect companion for messes like us: like our families, our communities, our workplaces and schools and world. It has to start with us. We have to let us into us so we will let Him into us, and then let Him move through us.

And fortunately, in establishing a personal relationship with us, Jesus “jumps the gun,” precisely by giving us the Eucharist, His own Body and Blood. He inserts the Mass into our mess, so we can take our mess to the Mass. The communal relationship of Holy Communion facilitates the personal relationship that the Catholic faith needs to flourish in our land.

Be Attentive

One of my parishioners recently told me that she needs to listen to her heart more than to her head, as she has found her head to be unreliable and unclear. For various reasons I have preferred my head, though I have often experienced a similar result.

Yesterday I found myself in the hospital intending to visit parishioners. The only thing was, I didn't have a list of who was in the hospital because, when I called for names, nobody knew how to operate the system and therefore couldn't tell me anything. Since I was driving near one hospital I thought I'd stop in and see whether I could recognize anyone by name or face. (I've been at this parish long enough to be able to do that by now – at least parishioners I see regularly, either in church or in the hospital.) You can say that I went in not knowing whom I was supposed to be visiting. For that reason I traversed the corridors with a greater sense of observation than usual, which prompted me to notice and greet hospital staff members. I did see one woman whose name looked familiar. Although it turned out she was not a parishioner, she was from another parish and was the mother of a man whom I knew well. Later I found out that she hadn't been visited by a priest for a couple of days, so she was glad to see me.

As I headed toward the lobby ready to leave, it occurred to me: did I forget to walk through that one section? I had an appointment coming up, so (thought I to myself) I'd better get going. But wouldn't it be my luck if I found out a parishioner was on that unit and I never saw him! I guess you could say I listened to my heart, because I decided to go back up to the section I thought I hadn't checked.

As a result of that decision, I got to visit a relative of one of our deceased priests of happy memory. I shared fond memories of our acquaintance, dating back to when I was first ordained and would see him along my travels and at priest gatherings.

Then, as I passed another room, the occupant had her back to me (she was seated in a wheelchair) but her visitor noticed me. I wondered whether she might be a parishioner because I thought I recognized her name, but it turns out she wasn't. Her visitor, however, began to tell me that she was intrigued by my beard. She figured I was Catholic, but wondered for a moment whether I was an Orthodox Jew. I assured her that I was not, adding that others have mistaken me for an Amish person, or perhaps an Orthodox Christian. (And to think that I trimmed the beard a couple of weeks ago!)

There was nothing profoundly spiritual about the beard comments, but the rest of the story has spiritual ramifications: I came into a situation with a certain openness, and, I believe, was rewarded with experiences I might have missed had I been in a different frame of soul. Now I don't claim to be any sort of spiritual master, especially as my spiritual condition fluctuates throughout the course of any given day; but there is something to following your heart and leading with it.

Just Sowing Seeds

I have written before on St. Thomas Aquinas' Eucharistic hymn Pange Lingua Gloriosi. The second verse is my favorite:

Nobis datus, nobis natus / ex Maria Virgine, / et in mundo conversatus / sparso Verbi semine / sui moras incolatus / miro clausit ordine.

Given to us, born for us from Mary the Virgin, and, sowing the seed of the Word during His earthly sojourn, He removed the hindrances with wonderful order. (my translation)

Jesus did not become flesh simply to go through the drama of the Paschal Mystery, or for that matter, to carry out His entire earthly life and ministry. The Incarnation is God's permanent investment in human nature and in the entirety of all its participants' lives.

By virtue of His ministry and Mystery the Lord definitely intended the formation of His Church as the living Sacrament--the material communication--of His Divine Person. Now we can declare with delight that there are no more "hindrances," for the lives of the righteous who lived before Christ have come into their fulfillment because they have become united to Christ, the Head and Spouse of the Church.

My focus for the current post (and I have one), is the role of Catholic blogging in terms of sowing "the seed of the Word" in the world online and off. Like most people, the better part of my occupation involves interactions with brick-and-mortar human persons. I should say, however, along the lines of the sister of Martha, that conversation with God is the "better part" of my business (cf. Lk 10:42).

An article on "The Point of Catholic Blogging," from the UK's Catholic Herald, inspires my current thoughts. The title calls it a "debate," but I think the article presents it more as a symposium. Harnessing the Internet for the sake of the Gospel is a fearsome enterprise. The Internet is fuel. The combustible engines (programs, applications, websites, and blogs) that employ it are as diverse as the intentions of their operators. And we often forget that we all share the same roadways.

Responsible use of the Internet engages and fosters virtue--specifically, the "cardinal" or human virtues prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude. These acquired powers belong in every endeavor, but most especially online, as that's where so many of us so often "converse in the world."

The Herald article features five noteworthy voices in the Catholic virtual domain. I particularly appreciate the offering of the fifth and final contributor, Elizabeth Scalia. She highlights the ministerial aspects of Internet use. Since the Internet affords people an instantly accessible voice, Scalia notes that people now can ask, answer, and expect answers to questions "in real time," meaning now. (I grant that it isn't much different for those who field telephone calls.) To return to the hymnic reflection above, there is no time to delay; or the delay must be "ended with wonderful order." Ms. Scalia calls it "the tidy, almost transactional resolution of spiritual matters." This aspect of Online Life intensifies stress in those who are predisposed to stress. We have to "think on our feet," and that is a good thing. 

Our seminary mentors warned us that when we're hearing people's confessions, nobody is going to ask us what degrees we have, or how we did on our exams. They're just going to ask us questions--questions that they'd ask whether we were the class valedictorian or the one who scraped by. As the joke goes, "What do they call the guy who graduated last in his class in medical school? 'Doctor.'" The passage of time in these past few years has been humbling indeed. It occasionally hits me that the guy who graduated last in our seminary class (whoever he was) may well answer questions more satisfactorily than do I, who graduated closer to the top. All of us are called, and imperfectly strive to live as, "Father."

As a friend reminded me years ago, "we are just sowing seeds." Although we can give a quick answer here and there, the long-haul conversations (on or offline) matter just as much, if not more. It is easy for me to fall into the trap of desiring, indeed expecting, quick results. This applies not only to the gift and mystery of evangelization, but also to friendship; but should not the two converge?

Field Hospital for the Wounded

If you asked me what facets of parish ministry I enjoy and attend to the most, outside of the celebration of the Sacraments, I would have to offer two: the Christian education of adults and youth, and ministry to the sick and infirm. Oftentimes the twain meet, for several reasons: first, the sick are a "captive audience," though it certainly is inappropriate to lecture someone who is at his or her worst; second, the sick are in a vulnerable state, with a certain receptivity to and interest in the truth, which I am eager to offer at any available opportunity.

On one recent occasion, the Church's catechetical and healing ministries joined in a hospital visit. There I met an elderly man who apparently used to belong to our parish but has not been affiliated for many years. He was a product of 12 years of Catholic education. The man was quick to share the discouraging reports he heard about Catholic church and school memberships, as well as the alleged decrease in priests' participation in individual, family, and community activities.  I assured him that our school was doing quite well, and that we continue to receive people into the Church, even though ours certainly is not a flawless community of faith, devoid of attrition. Personally I could stand to be more visible and accessible among the people; these visits were a treasured example!

A few minutes into our conversation he shared a story: he told a priest in his high school of his intent to attend a college of another Christian stripe, but the priest discouraged him because that school would require him to take a "comparative religion" class. Perhaps, the man noted, this priest's admonition deserved a helpful follow-up comment, such as, "You're always welcome to talk to me about whatever the professor says in class." That was a very good suggestion, I noted, but there wasn't much he could do about it now, over sixty years later. He agreed, and after I offered a prayer and a blessing, we parted quite amicably.

We get people when/as we get people, and encounter them as well as we can; but upon further reflection I sensed my innate desire to "fix" his situation with accurate information and winsome personality. Some days, and some times of day, my supply of both drains easily. Moreover, information and personality aren't an ailing man's greatest need!

In his now-famous interview with a fellow Jesuit, Pope Francis referred to the Church as a "field hospital for the wounded." If a car accident victim comes into the emergency ward, do you immediately give him safety information? Well, no, I guess not...

Another quote from the interview speaks to this tendency: "Religion has the right to express its opinion in the service of the people, but God in creation has set us free: it is not possible to interfere spiritually in the life of a person." On one hand is the sincere desire to influence, to help a person consider another way of looking at their experience--perhaps, so they could have more compassion for a figure in their past who remains unforgiven until now (such as that priest from his high school). On the other hand there is the ego-driven intent to manufacture a certain result or state, in which the person is reduced to a "project"--an ill-fated one at that.


There was more to our conversation than I recorded here. Thank God my interactions aren't "recorded for quality assurance," but in any case, I recognized anew in this interaction the call to listen deeply and respond to the deeper concerns. Sometimes people just need to be heard and to be reminded that the Lord loves them. The rest is not necessarily my business.

Vitality, Worship, Mission: A Tale of Three World Youth Days

I've just about had my fill of coverage and commentary on Pope Francis's notorious airplane interview. If I were dedicating the present post to that interview, I would title it "Takes On A Plane." Instead, I offer Timothy Cardinal Dolan's thoughtful and polished reflections for your reading.  As for another voice on the Church's teaching (not connected to the Pope's interview), I offer Deacon Greg Kandra's fine summary via Catholic News Service. That is all.

My World Youth Day (hereafter, WYD) post has to do with the theme of the occasion, which I presume the Holy Father announces sometime beforehand. This year's theme was "Go and make disciples of all nations" (Mt 28:19).  Here is the Vatican's official list of the WYD themes.

I attended two WYDs: Denver (1993) and Cologne (2005). Following are some reflections on the personal relevance of those celebrations.

Denver: I came that they may have life, and have it to the full (John 10:10)

This event lay at the threshold of my senior year of high school. By that point I had already decided to apply to the seminary, so I didn't need the Denver experience to solidify that decision. I later learned that a number of priestly and religious vocations came out of Denver, and that WYD had such an effect on many attendees.

It was one of my first experiences away from home for more than a couple of days, and the farthest I'd ever been away from home. It was also my first experience sleeping out in the open air. (I wasn't a boy scout, as you might have surmised.) But I was in good company--a million or so enthusiastic young people, including several high school classmates and future seminary contemporaries.

I got to know several of our diocesan priests on that trip. I was ready to say that Denver helped to make priests human to me, but that's not true: all the priests I've known were human to me, even as I knew them in my pre-teen and teenage years. Perhaps I put them on a pedestal, but only with the hopes of being able to reach that pedestal someday, not to be able to knock them down from it. One of the priests in our company noticed my fondness for the bean, and we enjoyed it together on a few occasions. He and I don't get together for coffee anymore, but he does come over for dinner and I sometimes preach for his annual Miraculous Medal Novena.

The site of the closing Mass with John Paul II, Cherry Creek State Park, was a hot mess. People were passing out as if slain in the Spirit. During the Mass I volunteered to refill three or four canteens at one of the water sites a good distance away. I really wasn't sure where the spigot was, so I just followed people. Talk about a journey of faith! When I finally arrived, there was quite a queue. An inch at a time, I arrived and started filling. It was awkward enough to carry them there, but now that they were full, it was harder. Partway back to our group, I lost my grip on one of the canteens. The lid wasn't on too tight, and most of the water spilled out. I don't recall whether I swore at the realization of my folly (I was rather pious in those days), but Homer Simpson's "D'Oh!" certainly would have expressed my reaction. Whatever the Holy Father said that day, I'm sure it was worth hearing. It was enough that he was there, and so was I.

John 10:10 remains a favorite quote of mine. As all Scripture does, this verse has grown on me, and grown in me. As one often prone to melancholy, I have appreciated the Lord's assurance of abundant life. Jesus wasn't just expressing a good wish for us, a nice idea. He was stating the purpose for the Incarnation, the reason He became flesh and entered the human scene. Life to the full--not half-life, not occasional glimpses of what joy might resemble.

JPII was an appropriate pope to proclaim that message to the world's youth. Many of us grew up with him. We had no other experience of popecraft than his. This was a vibrant man, an enthusiastic speaker, a lover of children and of the outdoors. I believe he skied the Rockies while he was in town. Perhaps some pundits noticed that, even then, he was starting to slip, but the fact that he preserved his joie de vivre endeared us to him all the more.

When John Paul II replied to the madding crowd, "JPII loves you!"
Cardinal Stafford proceeded to dump a Gatorade container on him.
Not.

Cologne: We have come to worship Him (Mt 2:2)

By early 2005 I was slated to be the associate chaplain of the local WYD contingent. Then, in April, JPII "went to the Father's house"--the desire he expressed not long before his death, the desire that pretty much characterized his life.

Then Benedict XVI was elected to occupy the Chair of Peter. Some of our kids began to wonder whether this older, apparently more serious pontiff was going to attend WYD in Cologne. While I had little doubt that he would attend, I wondered how well he would take to the festivities and to the youth. How well would he be received?

There was nothing to worry about. He shared the joy of his beloved predecessor and friend, and it seemed that he felt no need to become JPII's carbon copy in this or any other respect. That interior freedom, born of prayer, attested to the Holy Spirit's presence in Papa Bene. Both the young pilgrims and the adults recognized it.

Our coordinator and crew planned a week's stay in Rome immediately prior to the WYD events. We stayed at the Motherhouse of the Daughters of Divine Zeal, who were very gracious to us, especially because several of their own, then stationed in Reading, were part of our group. It was a joy to traverse the Tiber again, and to celebrate Holy Mass on ancient altars.

As well as things could have been planned, it's part and parcel of a pilgrimage that things will go "wrong." At the end of a day trip to Assisi, we discovered that the train operators had decided to strike that day. We had to rent a tour bus to get us back to Rome. This and other unexpected inconveniences had a strange way of bringing us together, although it didn't feel like it at the time.

Many banners were strewn along the way of the grand pilgrimage to the papal site. They featured quotes from Scripture, saints, and other sources. I can't remember a single one, although a few of them came from St. Edith Stein, whose first home as a Carmelite nun was Cologne. Those quotes fueled some interest in this holy and learned woman.

I concelebrated the papal Mass at Marienfeld with thousands of brother priests. We had to suit up in alb and stole, and line up for registration. While in line, I happened to run into a priest whose parents lived at a former parish. He would join us for daily Masses on visits home, and now I rejoined him halfway across the world!

The theme of Cologne pointed to the Magi, whose relics remain enthroned in the city's cathedral. Likewise we pilgrims shared their words and their story, as we came from various places with one aim: to know the Lord more deeply. Along the way, we made new friends and deepened current friendships. That's what happens on pilgrimages. Pope Benedict once said that WYD is the culmination of a "long exterior and interior path" (Wikipedia). As we made the interior journey we discovered the Lord's love that we could in turn share with those around us.

Liturgy is always the Church's pilgrimage of faith, hope, and charity. As a reformer of the Liturgy, Pope Benedict wanted to imbue Catholics with a profound reverence for...reverence. It must become the reason for our existence, far surpassing any previous earthly interest. Just as Jesus made clear His joyful purpose in the WYD theme of Denver, we responded with similar clarity in Cologne. Jesus came to give life to the full; we have come to worship Him.

"I always wanted to teach, but, hey, this is great too!"

Rio de Janeiro: "Go and make disciples of all nations!" (Mt 28:19)

I did not attend this year's WYD, but now with the modern media I could have seen almost every major event, or read each locution. I was not very diligent, I must admit. My sound-byte attention span doesn't help. But I read many headlines and news summaries. And let's face it: people are going to go crazy just because the Pope is in town, regardless of his personality.

Many people have heard of the young boy who expressed his desire to become a priest. This account will be one of the most memorable moments in WYD. Since the first weeks of his papacy, our gregarious Pope Francis has been eager to stop and greet people. That unforgettable encounter has planted in the heart of the world a reminder to pray for and encourage vocations.

Aside from the aforementioned embrace, the most noted news item was the airplane interview. The pope demonstrated mercy upon persons struggling with same-sex attraction. "Hate the sin, love the sinner." In a way, he thus epitomized the WYD theme of making disciples. Charity and truth make disciples of every truly open-minded individual.

Now it's not "the world" that needs to remain open-minded; it's Catholics! To date, the Bishop of Rome seems to have ruffled more traditional feathers than progressive ones. But we must remember that Francis has been reinforcing the Church's teachings all along. Most people suspect that he won't be making many innovations, but what for, anyhow? The needed "innovation" is not teachings; to an extent it may be presentation, but without question it will be people--disciples. 

The Church's centrifugal force into the 21st century must begin with a centripetal movement, an  inward movement of mercy. Pope John Paul II and Pope Benedict knew this, and they initiated that movement as far as they could. Now it must go into high gear.  Pope Francis is the right man for the job; at least the Holy Spirit has thought so.

"We'll check where you're at with this after the perfumes hit you."

On the Nature, Mission, and Operation of the Church

         Everything we have heard today concerns the nature, mission, and practices of Holy Church.  That is to say, it concerns the Trinity, and you, and me, and how we conduct ourselves.  The Church is the “sacrament of salvation”: when people want to know what salvation looks like and where it comes from, look to the Church—and see the Trinity, and you, and me, and how we conduct ourselves.  The Church is the “Mystical Body of Christ”—Jesus the Head and we the Members—fully alive with His Most Precious Blood pulsing through our veins, fully alive because we are united by the Holy Spirit of Wisdom, Power, and Love.

Hear the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council: “All men are called to this catholic unity which prefigures and promotes universal peace.  And in different ways belong to it, or are related: the Catholic faithful, others who believe in Christ, and finally all mankind, called by God’s grace to salvation” (Lumen Gentium, 13).  That statement was made less than fifty years ago, but the roots of it are found in the first reading from the Acts of the Apostles, where we see the Church’s borders being opened to Gentiles (non-Jews).  This manifestation of divine mercy points to the fulfillment of Jesus’ desire for unity under the care and direction of one Shepherd.

Complete unity is, as we well know, a work in progress.  We see this in the same first reading, where the Apostles have decided (in the first Church council, held in Jerusalem) whether the Gentile converts should be forced to enter the Church through the rituals of Judaism.  In an example of genuine compromise, both sides listen to each other, consider the truth in each other’s views, be willing to hold their own views with some levity, and be willing to give up something for the sake of Christ’s peace: in this example, the Gentile converts will observe certain Jewish dietary and marriage laws, while the Jewish converts no longer are to demand circumcision.

The heavenly Jerusalem described in the second reading is the consummate model of Christ’s peace, for it comes from heaven and joins the blessed with all who await the blessing of everlasting life.  It joins Testaments Old and New.  It joins together every human division.  Our present endeavor is to assist in the bridging of every gap with openness, honesty, and willingness.  This includes the gaps between peoples, and most important, the gaps between the truth and us.  Here the Church’s magisterium, or teaching authority, leads the way—not as Truth’s master, but rather as its servant.

When it comes to the issues that are so divisive in society, it is important to remember the Church’s role of fostering peace through truth and charity.  There is the ever-present tendency to caricature people and issues, to make personal attacks and so forth—somewhat understandable because religion and politics are so important to the survival of the human community.  The Church engages in politics because politics has to do with people and the way they treat each other.  She cannot back down from the Truth of the Gospel and the Church’s teachings for the sake of human respect.  She doesn’t intend to drive people away, nor will she retain them under a false sense of unity.  We know how the Cross continues to be revealed in the many forms of human suffering, especially of the innocent; but we can’t forget the suffering that the whole Church experiences as people fall short of, and even reject, the full and splendid truth about themselves.

For this reason we ceaselessly invoke the Holy Spirit who first descended upon Mary and the Apostles, begging for a new outpouring of divine life upon the People of God—that, whatever “side” we may be on with respect to a given matter, we may attain unity and peace to be the best possible example to the world, even if our greatest success lies in demonstrating our utter dependence on God’s mercy.

^BGT  1 Corinthians 9:25 πᾶς δὲ ὁ ἀγωνιζόμενος πάντα ἐγκρατεύεται, ἐκεῖνοι μὲν οὖν ἵνα φθαρτὸν στέφανον λάβωσιν, ἡμεῖς δὲ ἄφθαρτον.

1 Corinthians 9:25 Omnis autem, qui in agone contendit, ab omnibus se abstinet; et illi quidem, ut corruptibilem coronam accipiant, nos autem incorruptam.  (1Co 9:25 NOV)

(I copied these verses as a personal reminder for my marathon preparations, which begin in earnest this week (with an initial reduction in weekly mileage).  The verse reads:

Everyone who competes, denies himself everything; and these do so in order to receive a perishable crown, while we receive an imperishable one.

Sex-Talk

A recent post from Whispers in the Loggia features Pope Benedict's recent talk on two themes that are profoundly affecting the Church and the world.  Often branded his "State of the Church Address," in truth it is his annual address to the members of the Roman Curia.

This year's two concerns are: the crisis of family life and the nature of authentic dialogue.

Pope Benedict found it necessary to address the first topic in light of the relativization of the structure of the family, the decrease in commitment, and the reduction of sexuality to the self-directed choice(s) of "gender."  Affirming the given duality of the human person as male and female, we affirm the mind and will of the Creator.  Denial of the male-female duality leads to the denial of the objective nature of the family as man-woman-child.  The child becomes a "right" that can be fulfilled however one wishes.

Regarding the second matter, His Holiness acknowledges the need for mutual openness to each other's stance, while reminding parties-in-dialogue that they are searching together for truth, with which religion is vitally concerned.  The Christian, he says, can be "supremely confident, yes, fundamentally certain, that he can venture freely into the open sea of the truth, without having to fear for his Christian identity."

Now the Pope did begin his speech with several positives from the year, even as his encouraging observations led him to treat the areas of concern.  Benedict is always encouraged by the enthusiasm of young people.  It is no wonder that he constantly addresses the issues he does, because their current direction will threaten the human community.

Catholics and people everywhere must answer whether this is the disgruntled discourse of an old man lamenting the tempora and the mores, or the Vicar of Christ bringing the Gospel to bear on people's free and conscientious choices.  The process of answering this question engages our faith and reason alike.  "When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith upon the earth?" (Lk 18:8).  Will He find reason?

Reelin' In The Years

Recently (not the first time; please God, not the last) I had the privilege of hearing the Confession of a person who said that it had been double-digit years since the last time.

You bust your hump day in and out; you thump the tub for the New Evangelization; your blog gets fewer hits than a bong at a college party; and for what?

For this!

It's only a model.

I am quite happy to "just show up" for such graced encounters.  As far as I know, I bore no responsibility for it except by showing up.  Hence the importance of my showing up, the need for some warm, consecrated body to show up when/wherever he's called for--whether at the hospital, at the school, in the (Confessional) box, or at the funeral parlor.

A little of everything happened that day.  Two Sunday Masses at the parish; Confessions before the other two; three baptisms; a bereavement service to preside at and preach; and a Mass for a nearby parish's Confirmation retreat.  The ontological and emotional roller-coaster!  Thank God, I sat in my seat, buckled up, and enjoyed the ride.

Not every Lord's Day is this busy for me.  More of them ought to be, I suppose.  Amid the quantity of engagements, one person's Confession lit me up like the pale green indicator that announces before every weekend Mass at HGA that "The Father is In."

For decades our parish has had a priest available for the Sacrament of Reconciliation before every weekend Mass.  In recent years we have distributed a handy-dandy guide for people who'd like some help with the procedure and possible content for Confession.  For a while there have been apps for this.

For all the great gadgetry, there's been no dramatic, sustained upsurge in  Confessions.  A year or so ago, I gave an interview for the local daily.  I don't recall if he asked me this, but I imagine that he may have, as in: 

"What sort of response do you expect from the recent technological aids to Confession?"

"Like much online content, it may amount to a curiosity that merits passing review and little more.  Nothing substitutes for the genuine conversion of heart that prompts a person first to make an unsparing examination of his actions, words, and emotions, and then to lay it all out there to a priest whom Jesus and the Church have authorized (1) to receive that person's testimony about himself and (2) to deliver on behalf of Jesus and the Church the judgment of mercy.  That's all the Lord wants to do for us.  Great fear and shame need not bind us any longer."

"Let someone with a deep love to give / give that deep love to you / and what magic you'll see."

Let Mr. S limn "that deep love," such as priests and other lovers are wont to give:

Pray for vocations.  Pray that young men and women will experience the support of family, social network, and parish in considering the call to the priesthood or consecrated life.  Pray that young people will cultivate the chastity and charity that suits married couples for the long haul and for each day.  Pray that the Confession lines will get long enough to exasperate priests like me.

The best way to pray for it, however, is to do it!  Do the best you can.  "Anything worth doing," Chesterton said, "is worth doing badly."  The deliberate withholding of a grave sin is another matter, however, so be as thorough as possible.  You will not shock me.  You will not disappoint me.  I don't know who you are.  Even if I see you face to face, I don't care who you are.

(Understand me here: in that sacramental moment you are a wounded member of Christ's Mystical Body.  Your personal story is always very important, very sacred; but as regards the indiscriminate mercy of Christ, "the Spirit blows where He wills" (Jn 3:8), and I am directing that Cross-Current to you.  Your status in the parish, the community, the whatever, is not my focus when I raise the hand in absolution.  Rather than serve to squelch your individuality, divine mercy instead subjects that individuality to the Greater Whole known as the Church, who is now better off for your unique repentance.  Your searching and fearless disclosure somehow may assist another person to do likewise, in a manner known only to God.)

A priest has asked his flock to go to Confession in lieu of giving him Christmas presents (q.v.).  A good idea!  Our parishioners are generous.  Personally I would not object if they made a good Confession instead of making a dozen cookies, or even mailing a gift card.  (But remember, according to a recent post, that Catholicism is about "both/and"!)

In case you are wondering, or comparing someone else's experience, or your own previous, unsavory experience--for which I express regret on the Church's behalf:

You will not get yelled at.  In nearly thirty years of going to Confession I have never been yelled at, although I suspect that over the years a priest or ten has been exasperated with me because of my slow letting-go of unworthy attitudes and practices.

OK- I really can't guarantee everyone won't get yelled at, so to be more precise:

I will not yell at you.  In over nine years of hearing Confessions I have not yelled at anyone, although I have been exasperated with people because of their slow letting-go of unworthy attitudes and practices.  Si animadvertis, habes: You spot it, you got it.

In truth, all this time you have been yelling at yourself, far too loud and long.  It has to stop.  Why not now--this weekend, or sooner, if you'd like?  Give a call.  Stop by.  Don't be afraid to "inconvenience" us.  It will make our day.