Follow Me

32^nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

“The woman went and did as Elijah told her and they ate the food, she, himself and her son. The jar of meal was not spent nor the jug of oil emptied, just as the Lord had foretold through Elijah.” (I Kings 17:15-16)

“…’Beware of the scribes who like to walk about in long robes, to be greeted obsequiously in the market squares, to take the front seats in the synagogues and the places of honour at banquets; these are the men who swallow the property of widows, while making a show of lengthy prayers. The more severe will be the sentence they receive.’” (Mark 12:38-39)

Central to this Sunday is Jesus’ commentary to His disciples about the widow’s mite. Most preachers use this Sunday to encourage those who consider themselves among the less fortunate to do what they can. That little is truly precious in God’s eyes.

More industrious pastors will sometimes use this Sunday to urge all their parishioners, especially their well-to-do parishioners, to be heroic in their generosity in proportion to the heroic generosity of the widow Elijah encountered in Sidon or the poor widow of the Gospel.

However, there are a couple verses at the beginning of the Gospel for this Sunday, which should cause one to question, as they seem to touch an entirely different topic. I can’t say as I have ever heard a homily on these readings which was centered on those opening verses condemning the exploitation of poor women by the scribes or applying the condemnation or admonition of Jesus to priests and bishops today.

“…’Beware of the scribes who like to walk about in long robes, to be greeted obsequiously in the market squares, to take the front seats in the synagogues and the places of honour at banquets; these are the men who swallow the property of widows, while making a show of lengthy prayers. The more severe will be the sentence they receive.’” (Mark 12:38-39)

Truth to be told, on an ordinary Sunday such an application really wouldn’t even make a lot of sense, given the fact that the pews are generally filled with the laity. The example of the widow would be an encouragement to them and the admonition to the scribes would be out of place.

The place for citing those first verses and challenging priests would probably be a priests’ retreat. Excuse my inexperience, however, but I cannot remember myself being exhorted at a priests’ retreat to take to heart those first couple verses. Nor do I remember being admonished like this in the seminary. It is almost as if when the last scribe was buried that was the end of possible applications for the first two verses of today’s Gospel. And yet… they are there, they haven’t been edited out. And we say, praise God!

From the scene of the Transfiguration we know that Elijah is Old Testament prophecy personified. The Scriptures are rich in details about this marvelous man. Different from someone like Samson, however, Elijah is sublime even in his frailty. He is the vessel of prophecy, God’s chosen witness, whose face and manner do not detract in the least from his mission. His withdrawal to Sidon, where he brings comfort to a widow and her son while awaiting God’s reprieve for His chosen people and the return of rain to the earth, is as particular as God’s love is and therefore more than revelatory of the nature of God’s love. He most surely brought this widow more than meal and oil in God’s name; he brought her comfort and assurance of God’s kingship in a world which had only taken from her of late.

Elijah foreshadows Christ in numerous ways. His own unmistakable witness to God prepared God’s chosen people to receive the message of God’s love for His people in the glory of the Incarnation and in everything Jesus said and did as He walked among His people.

In this Year of the Priest, we have the benefit not only of the witness of Christ but also that of Elijah in Sidon. We have a double assurance of God’s particular love, inviting our generous response and entrance into that communion which restores lost innocence and opens for us the way to Heaven and perfect joy beyond this veil of tears. The priest, alter Christus, is to reflect Christ by all he says and does. His ability to be Elijah/Christ for the little ones makes or breaks the message.

Best of times/worst of times scenario: I am afraid too many folks today have had the famous vision of St. Hildegard of Bingen, who saw the high priest standing before her in ragged and dirty vestments. Unlike Hildegard, however, today many turn their back on him and walk away. This thought comes to me in the light of a news item I read the other day about an Italian priest, exasperated by the non-attendance at Mass in his parish, who sent out invitations to his own funeral because he said he wanted to see his people one more time before he died. It’s sort of like something St. Francis of Assisi might have done to touch hearts grown cold.

Maybe the reason I haven’t ever heard a preacher admonish using these words from Mark’s Gospel is that scribal hypocrisy, with the proverbial long robes, tassels and long prayers, has not recently been the order of the day. Most priests have had a regular paycheck for over a generation and are more apt to make their appearances clad like somebody’s husband off of page 2 of the L.L. Bean or Eddie Bauer Catalogues. It’s not easy with a diocesan decreed scale of benefits to accuse a man of preying on widows. The modern day scribe’s “sin” no doubt is rather his gentrification. Long robes and obsequious greetings may no longer be in, but a certain institutionalization of shepherding at the cost of the sheep is still the bottom line (read: don’t disturb outside of office hours). We priests too, like the scribe at the top of the social heap, are oblivious to the glory on the face of Christ which should shine through our human weakness. “Zeal for Your House consumes me, O Lord” is not exactly a common watchword among men of the cloth.

Having an eye for the defenseless poor is not as simple as taking your turn at the soup kitchen or endowing a homeless shelter. There are many who have been exhorted to do their part this Sunday, not only for the parish but as men and women in the world for those in need. The least among us with what little they have can always find ways of helping the lesser. The priest/scribe’s calling is somewhat different. It is to pick up and move at the Lord’s behest like Elijah. It is to be Christ’s presence in our world today and to speak that freeing word, which reassures and empowers others.

Why is Mass attendance down of a Sunday? It may be simply that the social pressure of the “good old days” is no longer there. Some would say they no longer find Jesus in church any more. The crowds which came streaming to Christ from Judea, Samaria and Galilee came with various motives and not all of them pure. Lots however hung on His words and sought His face. Elijah, the vessel of prophecy, might just be the coach we need if we’re puzzling over what is lacking in our ministry for the sake of the Gospel as other Christs for our day and time.

Best of times/worst of times scenario? Elijah has been there and so has Jesus. Both withdrew to Sidon and both rewarded the faith and hope they encountered in the poor widow and in the Siro-Phoenician woman. Christ needs our hands to do His work most certainly, but at least for us priest/scribes radiating His glory in His particular love and attention for each and every one, empowering the other is no doubt closer to the mark. The institutional measures certainly have their importance, but herding is not God’s way. Church history has been punctuated with “mega moments”. Slavic renditions on gigantic canvases somewhere in a St. Petersburg museum depicting the baptism of the Rus come to mind. God’s way? On occasion perhaps, but not in the every day! Remember, we owe the account of his discernment of the true theophany on Mount Sinai to the prophet Elijah as well: not in the storm, not in the fire or the earthquake, but God’s presence in the tiny whispering sound, as particular as is God’s love for each of us His children.

“The woman went and did as Elijah told her and they ate the food, she, himself and her son. The jar of meal was not spent nor the jug of oil emptied, just as the Lord had foretold through Elijah.” (I Kings 17:15-16)

Mary said, “Do whatever he tells you”.

Vision Quest

Communion of Saints

“Because the world refused to acknowledge him, therefore it does not acknowledge us… Surely everyone who entertains this hope must purify himself, must try to be as pure as Christ.” (I John 3:1-3)

“This great company of witnesses spurs us on to victory, to share their prize of everlasting glory, through Jesus Christ our Lord.” (Preface of Holy Men and Women I)

“Their glory fills us with joy, and their communion with us in your Church gives us inspiration and strength as we hasten on our pilgrimage of faith, eager to meet them.” (Preface of All Saints)

Again this morning I read a newspaper feature story on a good, hardworking, local priest, who when asked the usual, and I think generally well intentioned, question, “Father, if you are so happy why aren’t there more men ‘joining’ the priesthood?” responded with the answer which quickly comes to people’s lips here in the region and perhaps elsewhere, I don’t know, “I suppose they are put off by the clergy abuse scandal up north…”

Oddly enough, I don’t think priests or bishops who respond this way actually believe what they are saying; they invariably add that in any case such predators are the exception to the rule. In other words, their own experience of the priesthood is not tainted; it is of a body of good, generous and hardworking men. So why do they excuse young men from responding to the call by claiming they are put off by the exceptions to the rule? Why don’t they get to the heart of the matter? Why don’t they say that it is a crisis of faith and values generally in the Church today?

Wouldn’t it make more sense to talk about an erosion of our Catholic base, of our Catholic family culture? It would, I suppose, but perhaps one observation is as true as the other. Perhaps it might be even more accurate to say that people don’t commit themselves for life in any sense whether it be to priesthood, religious life or the sacrament a matrimony, because we have lost our saints, or our awareness of them, and pretend to go through life without aspiring to too much of anything. Oh that All Saints Day and its wonderful message might break through the cloud cover!

Other than athletics and modeling, it would be hard to say what young people aspire to anymore these days. That is terribly unfair, I know, but not altogether untrue. Who in our society aspires to something beyond that moment of glory which is as passing as the beauty of the flowers of the field? What is the real tragedy of the so-called “soccer mom” existence? It’s as fleeting as the torn ligament which won’t heal, as tenuous as that tendon which accidently got cut on some broken glass.

If only it were as easy as the one lady who wrote a book on how to raise “geeky” children! In family and outside, straight across the board, I find myself still marveling at a young man now twenty years ago objecting in my presence to a certain group of people’s claims to national sovereignty saying, among other things or to conclude his argument, “… and they don’t even have any saints!” Most folks younger than me and even some older have, by a sad turn of fate, been deprived of their saints. It’s true! Although I couldn’t expect a regular newspaper reporter to understand, it might be better to answer his or her question about “…why there aren’t more men ‘joining’ the priesthood?” by saying that our Catholic society has been deprived of its saints.

If it is your ideal to become a top athlete or a top model or invent an internet scheme which will make you a billionaire before you’re 25, where after you and your beautiful/handsome partner/escort will put the interest you can’t spend fast enough into a foundation for doing something worthwhile, what is enduring? The grass withers and the flower fades. Vanity of vanities, says Qoheleth. Too many people will put you off, saying that with no problem you can get together a bunch of folk to clean up a beach or to build houses during a two week vacation, but don’t expect a real and unqualified life commitment like “you are a priest forever in the order of Melchisedek” or “until death do us part”. If we had our saints or had had them as children, we’d be dreaming about all sorts of things which go beyond the expiry date on a liposuction or cartilage repairs. We would be ready to give our neighbor more than our leftovers, because we would know the God Who made us and saved us for His own out of love. The two great commandments would be an integral part of our lives also thanks to the witness of the saints.

The tragedies within the life of the Church and its leadership cannot be accepted indifferently as possible options or other paths. There is a right and a wrong. Even a religious can choose wrongly. This is the only way I can explain a tired, old Sinsinawa Dominican sister who leads girls and women to their abortions. She’s been deprived of her saints and has no idea of what life is about except expediency. “Today we keep the festival of your holy city, the heavenly Jerusalem, our mother. Around your throne the saints, our brothers and sisters, sing your praise for ever.” This sad woman with an Irish family name is all alone in the world and expects nothing beyond her next pay check. Without saints, she is without God in the world; she is without life and hope. We pray for the Lord’s mercy and her change of heart.

Why do people continue to insist on calling things “theologies” with no more than a social matrix? They are not theologies at all. They are the babblings of those tragically orphaned of their saintly examples, tragic figures indeed in some way or another most certainly deprived of the fantasy and imagination which a vibrant exchange with “this great company of witnesses (which) spurs us on to victory…” would have given them.

Some people get nervous about St. Paul’s words to the Colossians and our call, just as St. Paul understood his own ministry, as being also one to suffer and thus to make up what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ for the sake of his body the Church. We look to our brothers and sisters around the Throne of God and find in them not only an option but the very sense of our being. “Father, if you are so happy why aren’t there more men ‘joining’ the priesthood?” Maybe because it makes no sense to talk about a Church militant, if you are not aware to the depths of your being that the Church also suffers in Purgatory and rejoices in glory before the Throne of God, the Communion of Saints.

“Their glory fills us with joy, and their communion with us in your Church gives us inspiration and strength as we hasten on our pilgrimage of faith, eager to meet them.” (Preface of All Saints)

Let me say it quite simply! We’re not just talking about crowding our lives with illustrative figures or heroes. The object of the exercise is to bind us with them more closely to Christ. The witness of the saints is the verification of the teaching of the Tradition; it is the proper context for explaining the Scriptures. Our companions on the road to Emmaus, who might help light that fire within our hearts and help us to recognize Him in the Breaking of the Bread are those named and un-named whose feast we celebrate today.

For Piety's Sake!

Virtues and Vices

The first reading for Thursday of the 25^th Week in Ordinary Time from the Prophet Haggai planted a seed for reflection which I want to attempt to pursue in writing. What is at issue in that reading? Could it not be said to center around the need to establish priorities in life and what is meant by true piety? Here again is the core of that passage:

“Is this a time for you to live in your paneled houses, when this House lies in ruins? So now, the Lord of hosts says this: Reflect carefully how things have gone for you. You have sown much and harvested little, you eat but never have enough, drink but never have your fill, put on clothes but do not feel warm. The wage earner gets his wages only to put them in a purse riddled with holes. Reflect carefully how things have gone for you. So go to the hill country, fetch wood, and rebuild the House: I shall then take pleasure in it, and be glorified there, says the Lord.” (Haggai 1:1-8)

It’s all too easy for some to dismiss these words as a relic of times past, before social consciousness sensitized people to the virtue of exercising a preferential option in favor of the poor and disadvantaged. But understanding or explaining away this reading can’t be as simple as saying “Things were different back them, but times now have changed. Rebuilding the Temple would have to take a backseat today to the programs of feeding the hungry and clothing the naked…” Permit me to insist out of my faith in the enduring value and relevance of the Sacred Scriptures that Haggai cannot be so easily dismissed. I see no evidence of Haggai having framed an “either/or” situation; I believe that with Haggai we are in the realm of “both/and”. I also believe that rebuilding the Temple was and is the most important part of giving God his due. If not, why has the Church proposed it for our consideration today? In what sense must I commit myself to “rebuilding the Temple”? So went my thought process and thus was the seed for reflection planted. Meantime a week has passed.

Let me pursue my intuition intimated in the first paragraph and ask what is piety, anyway? Piety is neither a vice nor a character defect. It is a virtue of sorts, maybe not like prudence, justice, fortitude, or temperance, or even like altruism or heroism, but it is indeed a virtue. As such, it must have a timeless content. Piety can be qualified in a limiting fashion as filial, meaning our devotion or respect toward our parents. In other words, even modified by an adjective it is not a horizontal but a vertical virtue; it involves being devoted to someone over me: by limitation, to my parents over me, and without a qualifier, to God over me, Who made me and saved me to be His own.

The dictionary does not help flesh out “piety” beyond pointing to its being a religious sentiment. Piety is one of the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit; the Catechism of the Catholic Church (N. 1831) says: “They (the seven gifts) complete and perfect the virtues of those who receive them. They make the faithful docile in readily obeying divine inspirations.” Those who were moved to rebuild the Temple in Jerusalem did so out of piety; they were gifted by the Holy Spirit and hence docile to the word of God spoken by His prophet Haggai.

Piety is certainly a personal thing, but indeed it must be a shared sentiment or strength as well. Public worship of God ought to be pious thanks not only to the presence of a pious celebrant and an inspiring choir, but really thanks to the presence of a Spirit-filled community of baptized folk, gifted by that same Holy Spirit with piety.

When is divine worship pious? When or why might we say that divine worship is not pious? Is piety a demeanor? Let me answer that question directly and say I think not. Piety is, to continue the thought expressed in the CCC, that which “… complete(s) and perfect(s) the virtues of those who receive (the gift). (Piety, a gift of the Holy Spirit) makes the faithful docile in readily obeying divine inspirations.” Piety comes from the heart. Exposure to pious worship ought to render those present open or more open to God. Piety involves attentiveness to God; it completes and perfects my love for God, just as filial piety does for my love of mom and dad.

One of the great worries or urgings felt not only by Catholic people but by all true believers is that of handing on our faith in God to the next generation and sharing more widely the joy of faith which is ours with others. People actually get anxious about this task and seek to render devotion and public worship, in particular, attractive or worthwhile. A movement in the United States in favor of youth called “Life Teen” comes to mind. Among other things “Life Teen” seeks to render faith in God and our Sunday obligation to Mass more appealing to youth by bringing what we do there down or up (you choose!) to what adults believe to be their level. If you sense a note of hesitation or skepticism in my words to describe this movement and other similar attempts by adults to try and make divine worship “appealing” to those who don’t spontaneously embrace the tradition, then you are sensing rightly. We cannot and must not try and compete with the entertainment industry or even with the so-called non-liturgical religious groupings. Very simply stated showmanship or protagonism are no substitute for genuine piety. A rip-roaring, Bible-thumping sermon is not the be-all and end-all of Catholic worship. Jumping and shouting of a Sunday, getting all flushed with emotion, doesn’t necessarily mean that we have been gifted with or by the Holy Spirit and are hence “docile in readily obeying divine inspirations.” The opposite is probably the case as catering to perceived needs might make the object of our concern even more hesitant to join us, whether it be young people straddling the religious fence or fallen-away Catholics we are attempting to call home. Entertainment or mega-church events differ little from the social strictures of two generations ago which buttonholed certain people who though baptized didn’t seem to have appropriated the faith for themselves. Back then many drug themselves to Mass each Sunday bending to social pressure until they could disappear into the anonymity of the big city. Today’s alternative to that kind of social pressure, funneling or containment through entertainment or mastery, doesn’t really have anything to do with freedom or active involvement especially when it comes to choosing the sublime. If I come to be entertained or moved, I’m passive at best, I’m audience and not one of God’s own.

Piety is born of conviction and is a loving and respectful response to love from on high recognized as given and received. I think the protagonism or showmanship which has captured much of the liturgical “high ground” in the Church today is at odds with genuine piety. Being self-serving protagonism does not point to Christ. I’m thinking of the folks who have grabbed “center stage”, if you will: celebrants, certain types of commentators or readers, song leaders and other musicians who have placed themselves up front as an additional pole of attention in competition with what should be the ultimate focus of our worship.

I can remember the bishop of my childhood, who ordained me, sharing with me his honest puzzlement over how the world had changed. He could not figure out where the rage against the clergy in the early 1980’s had all of a sudden come from in the U.S.A., the country which had always been so enthusiastic about supporting its priests and bishops. As a young priest I certainly had no answer for him, but the more I think about it and strive for an answer, it is Shebna from Isaiah (22:15ff) who comes to mind. Shebna, the Lord’s steward, who spends his time building his grandiose “tomb on the heights”. God calls him “the shame of (his) master’s house”. Shebna was among other things prideful and self-serving, no steward at all.

The process of preparing the reception of the new English language Missal/Sacramentary is a unique opportunity for bishops in the name of the Church to call us back from protagonism or showmanship in liturgy to genuine piety, that is, proper focus through a new or renewed awareness of the sacredness of the action performed. Without wanting to sound in the least bit unfair, the exclusive use once again of Latin in divine worship would be the easy way out. It would most likely serve as the straightjacket to rein in our showmen. Perhaps I am still naïve enough to believe that we can talk our priests into faithfully observing the rubrics for Mass. Where the architecture permits, it would be great if they’d prepare the gifts at Mass and pray the Eucharistic Prayer ad Orientem. Maybe the fear of contagion through swine flu will give perspective to the greeting of peace in a world deaf to the voice of reason?

My reflection certainly goes on and I would hope yours will too. May the showmen lay down their hats and canes and true worship through genuine piety reign supreme, drawing youth and aged to the foot of the Cross and to the gates of the Kingdom!

Gravitas

The Crux of the Matter

The whole “liturgical debate” or controversy is really much bigger than the word “liturgical”. It cannot be boiled down to choosing “reform of the reform” vs. “restoration” as the necessary or best way of picking up the thread of the tradition, which may or may not have been broken, frazzled or dropped during the years of renewal after the Second Vatican Council.

Calling it a “liturgical debate” suffices only if we understand “liturgical” in the fullness of the term, so as to encompass art, architecture, music, and an almost endless list of types of artisanry which serve the plastic arts in particular: vestment making, textiles in general, book binding, woodcarving, masonry and so on.

While “continuity” might be a fair litmus test for faithfulness to the tradition, I can understand why people get into debates over what is involved with standing in an unbroken line with the past. Maybe the issue can only be resolved by appealing to authority: Roma locuta causa finita… This is not the worst of all solutions. Nonetheless, recent talk about pending developments in promoting the reform of the reformed liturgy through building consensus and appealing to the leadership of bishops and priests has left me cold or wanting additional directives. Consensus building certainly has its place in politics and is most likely the fairest and best way to hammer out a party platform, but in so far as we owe God “worship in spirit and in truth”, it must be more than my conditioning as a canonist which tells me that either the prophet or the prince has to speak and say “This is the path. Follow it!”

Even so, just in case we are relegated to consensus building on the way to reform, I would like to suggest a “via negativa” to help get a handle on a good deal of what is at issue. Call it an added element for a liturgical examination of conscience if you will. Ask whether something is appropriate for Divine Worship; measure the sufficiency of its “gravitas” or weight, and do it by asking whether or not he, she or it (thing or action) is frivolous.

friv⋅o⋅lous [friv-uh-luh s] –adjective 1. characterized by lack of seriousness or sense: frivolous conduct. 2. self-indulgently carefree; unconcerned about or lacking any serious purpose. 3. (of a person) given to trifling or undue levity: a frivolous, empty-headed person. 4. of little or no weight, worth, or importance; not worthy of serious notice: a frivolous suggestion. (Origin: 1425–75; late ME frīvolus worthless, trifling; Related forms: friv⋅o⋅lous⋅ly, adverb; friv⋅o⋅lous⋅ness, noun) Synonyms: 3. idle, silly, foolish, childish, puerile. 4. light, trifling, petty, paltry, trivial, flimsy. Antonyms: 3. serious. 4. weighty.

By way of illustration, one might ask of himself as a celebrant: Is my manner of presiding at liturgy or my preaching style frivolous or thus inclined? Good Church music, which lifts our minds and hearts to God, does so not like a hydrogen balloon or a will-o-the-wisp but by sustaining us with its strength and beauty: are you singing stuff which is “4. light, trifling, petty, paltry, trivial, flimsy”?

Forgive me if I resist the temptation to shoot a whole series of ducks right out of the water! I will not set myself up either as critic or judge in matters where anyone or his friend might question my competency. Let it suffice to say, that with reference to my decision almost two months ago to celebrate ad Orientem always in my chapel, I find myself as a celebrant affirmed and confirmed. Most of the congregation seems to have found the change affirming as well. A certain “gravitas” has won the day; the verdict is indeed positive.

You are excused if you do not buy this business of questioning the frivolity of much of that which is out there as a first step to appreciating where the Holy Father and many others wish to go with a renewed liturgy desperately in need of reform. I personally, however, find the notion helpful in labeling things which have always gone against my grain. Just observing the rubrics presently on the books would in and of itself be a big help toward ordering the house of worship.

To illustrate what I mean by this “via negativa”, I will offer two examples of my “Is it frivolous, yes or no?” test from the realm of art and architecture, dealing with the cathedral where I was baptized, ordained a priest, where in the crypt of the cathedral I celebrated my 25th of priesthood at the same altar of my first Mass, and where I was ordained a bishop.

I clearly remember the first temporary altar set up to accommodate Mass “facing the people” in the cathedral after the Council. It was made of aquamarine or turquoise Formica. Although as an adolescent, I did not have any strong feelings either about Formica or the color turquoise, I can say that as a boy I knew of no self-respecting woman who would have had her kitchen cupboards made out of the same material. Permit me to brand someone’s choice back then as “frivolous”.

These days (the turquoise altar disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared) I am eagerly watching the diocesan website for progress on the renovation of the cathedral being carried out under the direction of the architect Duncan G. Stroik, LLC, who is attempting to set forth and complete the original architect’s vision for the cathedral, which was never realized because of that man’s death. Basically, Stroik is reversing the modifications made to the building in the 1970’s.

Looking at the photos on the website, I was caught short and really stung to the heart to see the foundations being poured for the new steps up into the “sanctuary”, which are nearly the same as those I remember so well as an altar boy, and which I thought had disappeared forever under the new platform for the new altar and lectern of the 1970’s. It would seem that even modifications in stone might be labeled a hiatus as opposed to a progression. Were those changes, with no provision for a single use cathedra in the bishop’s church, a rupture? I need not say or judge any more. They are gone and continuity with the past in faithfulness to the liturgical norms which have always been in force is in the process of being reestablished. God rest all those behind the stone modifications of the 1970’s, but might they not have been just a bit frivolous in the radical changes they imposed upon that building?

Pope Benedict XVI is preparing for an encounter with artists in just a matter of days within the 10th anniversary year of the letter which the Servant of God Pope John Paul II wrote to artists on the eve of the great jubilee. It is another attempt by the popes to engage human creativity for the Gospel. Although artist saints like Fra Angelico may not have been common over the course of history, the Church has benefited from a marvelous engagement also with very mortal artists who have produced truly sublime works of the spirit over the course of the centuries. Hoping for a wedding between the Church and the world of contemporary art is not a wish for frivolity but might be likened to Hosea's efforts at God’s command to call his bride home.

Ideally, I guess I’d like to propose the frivolity test to bishops and priests concerning their own responsibility for liturgy. Musicians should be able to judge as well if one or another of the pieces in the song book might not better be left aside as frivolous. I cannot see how a call for “gravitas” in worship involves clipping anyone’s wings or hemming anyone in. The instructive parts of the liturgy of ordination call us to just that, to be anything but frivolous in dealing with the things of God.

Washed and Saved!

Triumph of the Cross

“You decreed that man should be saved through the wood of the cross. The tree of man’s defeat became his tree of victory; where life was lost, there life has been restored through Christ our Lord.” (from the Preface for the Feast of the Triumph of the Cross)

The prophetic image from the Book of Numbers of the bronze serpent, lifted up in the desert of the Exodus by Moses as God had commanded, is explained by Jesus in His words to Nicodemus in John’s Gospel (3:13-17) of which vs. 16, “God so loved the world…”:

“No one has gone up to heaven except the one who came down from heaven, the Son of Man who is in heaven; and the Son of Man must be lifted up as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.”

The contradictory sign of the bronze serpent became the gateway to survival in the desert and hence life in the Promised Land. The contradictory sign of Our Savior Crucified becomes the way to eternal life, “so that through him the world might be saved.”

As familiar as we might be with the Old Testament prophecy and its fulfillment in Jesus on the Cross, the iconography puts most folks off. I was reminded of that not so long ago when I set up a copy of my coat-of-arms at the entrance of the chapel: “What’s that snake with the cross doing there? Why the snake!” Both the bronze serpent and Our Savior Crucified seem to be able to shock even those saved through water and the Wood.

Although I may not be able to substantiate the claim that this part of John Chapter 3 is the most quoted passage of the New Testament, I’d bet that if it’s beat out for first place by parts of the Nativity and Passion narratives then it comes in a close third for all-time oral Bible quotes. Nonetheless, Catholics make strange when faced with the serpent and my bet would be that the image would appall those fervent sons and daughters of the reformation who are continually “john-3:16-ing” or “god-so-loved-the-world-ing” themselves and anyone they can witness to.

God knew what He was doing and the prophecy points most effectively to the scandal of the Cross for which the Transfiguration had been meant to be the antidote. The Cross without the Corpus, maybe for reasons of our psychology if not by way of our sins, sadly enough seldom points to Jesus lifted up and drawing us all to Himself. This state of affairs reminds us of another prophetic reaction: namely, the shudder passing through the crowd which looked away or covered their eyes, unwilling to lift their eyes to face Isaiah’s Suffering Servant, “bruised, derided, cursed, defiled…” for our sins. Why the serpent on the cross? Perhaps the serpent is there to throw us off balance and open our eyes to the Sign of Contradiction, our Savior Crucified?

Let me simply formulate a tiny aspiration and a fervent hope on the eve, that the Feasts of the Triumph of the Cross and of Our Lady of Sorrows might not escape our gaze this year. May we discover the Cross, soaked and sanctified for us with His Blood (the gateway to heaven), and if we have effectively filtered out of the picture and our consciousness His Body lifted up upon that Cross, may the Sorrowful Mother’s tears catch our attention and cause us to look again and this time see, no more put off by the snake than we are by God’s Servant and His Son!

“You decreed that man should be saved through the wood of the cross. The tree of man’s defeat became his tree of victory; where life was lost, there life has been restored through Christ our Lord.”

Never Too Late

“I appeal to you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may prove what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.” Romans 12:1-2

By accident really, looking for something to read for an upcoming airplane trip, I happened to pick up a book by Fr. Benedict J. Groeschel, CFR, “The Reform of Renewal”, Ignatius Press, 1990. The sense of the title of Father’s book lies in describing the heritage of Vatican II as renewal accomplished, but still very much in need of reform. In the course of the book, Father leaves no doubt of his absolute conviction that reform in the lives of individuals, from greatest to least, is what the Church urgently needs today.

After the fact, I checked the reviews and find myself in agreement and wondering why this little book doesn’t seem to have made it “big” at some point over the last almost 20 years…

"Father Groeschel has written *the* book for the Church in the '90's. He is right on target! He has said clearly and prophetically what must be said before it is too late: namely, that all true Christian renewal must be rooted in personal, on-going conversion. I found reading the book as valuable as making a retreat."
— Father Richard Roach, S.J., Marquette University

"By his frequent use of appealing concrete examples and comparisons, Groeschel shows conclusively that true, lasting renewal in the Church can only happen by continual repentance and reform in our individual lives."
— Father Kenneth Baker, Editor, Homiletic and Pastoral Review

Permit me to quote at length the last paragraph of what certainly is not a “classic” but is definitely more than a “gem” in the genre “spiritual books”, meriting attention even twenty years after the fact in a situation both within the Church and in our world where answers are required or keys are sought for applying or unleashing St. Paul and the force his timeless words to the Romans:

“Every disciple of Christ is obliged to confess Him before all men and to follow His example. This is the real meaning of bringing the Good News to the ends of the earth. The lethargy, depression, conflictful attitudes and lack of commitment and zeal that are evident in the Christian churches at this time strongly suggest that no real sense of repentance and conversion is deeply present. There is no question that Christianity is losing ground because the Good News is not being effectively communicated to the people of our time or to young people who belong to families of faith. All those who consider themselves disciples of Christ must pause at this time to see if conversion is ongoing in their hearts. Every Christian is called to a ministry of reconciliation between man and God through the teaching and grace of Jesus Christ. We can hardly be working on this ministry of reconciliation for others if we are not pursuing it in our own lives. The real answer to the problems of the individual, of society and of the churches is to be found in the simple and direct words of Our Lord Jesus Christ at the beginning of His Gospel: “The time is come and the kingdom of God is at hand. Repent and believe the Good News.” (pp. 215-216)”

What shines through from beginning to end of this book is that Father knows hearts and understands that regardless of where a person might stand on the ideological spectrum there is room for change of heart: repentance and conversion, the components of reform.

No telling how long my copy of the book had been on the shelf of that Catholic book store, but I’m grateful that it fell within my grasp late rather than never. Father Groeschel’s focus is certainly the Catholic Church in America. One of my concerns has always been somewhat akin, namely that of distinguishing the measure of vitality in the past within the Church in the New World by comparison with the vitality in the past within the Church in the Old World (the other pole of my life experience). Since the Second World War and until maybe twenty or so years ago this New World vitality carried with it a constant turnover, thanks to large families filling the pews on Sundays and any number of converts “joining the Church” as they entered into marriage with a Catholic. The neophytes always more than offset those who quietly drifted away and disappeared from the parish lists. Today’s demographics are different and the institution no longer seems to have the pull to carry people to the altar and through the first years of matrimony. The balance of pressures to conform has tipped from church, family and school to Hollywood, Bollywood and “Reality TV”.

BBC radio has a program running on G. Allegri’s Miserere mei Deus. I started to listen until I discovered that this musical masterpiece can be for some little more than a warm fuzzy just like my rosary or my pectoral cross can be bling for others. Father Groeschel finds in St. Catherine of Genoa and her prayer groups the source of “plutonium” for the engines of both the Reformation and the Catholic Reform. Before I criticize or doubt him for attributing so much influence to the holiness of life of one woman, I guess I’d better give that kind of reform in my own personal life a try and see what might be unleashed. Just maybe a heart contrite and humbled is more than mountains of inspirational music or sacred bling…

Nonetheless I still have this gut feeling that imparting knowledge has something to do with this equation. Whether it’s Miserere or Dies irae, if I get people beyond the symmetry to the content, I have the means to build on and beyond sentiment. Unforgettable for me is the example of our little boy blessed, Francisco, from Fatima, who knew, yes, knew enough to want to do reparation for the sins of others. I am thinking of a whole world of Catholic folk in the sunset years of life that knew its catechism and built upon it. Thanks to home, I still have rhymes and memorized prayers that nourish me and challenge me to that change of heart never too late even six decades into the game. Where would I be without? How many of our younger baptized were treated to catechetical content as opposed to sentiment?

Thank you, Father Groeschel, for laying it out there especially for priests and religious! I’d hate to think we are losing the race against time and that another generation might have to be claimed for Christ from paganism or ignorance by missionary bishops and little monks in their tiny boats from a far away someplace. Christendom is really a great word and something worth ringing church bells about no matter the silly ordinance about decibels. Knowledge and substance imparted, we hope and pray for the grace of repentance and conversion, for the grace of reform.

“I appeal to you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may prove what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.” Romans 12:1-2