Accompanying one another toward Easter: the Parish and the Community of Sant’Egidio

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emmausA friend of mine in the Community of Sant’Egidio has asked me to reflect upon this past Holy Week and Easter Sunday in the parish and how the community accompanied the parish in its celebration.

“Accompanied,” I believe, is the proper word. Parishes by their very nature are living realities that are grounded in faith and their own particular history, tradition and makeup.  St. Dominic Parish is no exception to this.  Every parish has a living history that should be honored for what it has achieved yet also continually nourished into future growth.  No movement within the Church should seek to replace or even replicate the living reality of the parish.  That being said, we all help one another along in the journey of faith and it has been my experience that the Community of Sant’Egidio has many rich gifts to offer that a parish can benefit from both in the celebration of Holy Week and throughout the year.  In order to be manageable though the focus of this reflection will be solely on Holy Week.

For full disclosure, I believe it important to also state that my own discipleship and priesthood has been effected by my encounter with and involvement in the Community of Sant’Egidio and, that as pastor of St. Dominic parish, I bring this influence with me into the parish. The pastor of a parish does have a unique role is helping to set the atmosphere of a parish.  It is not the sole influence on a parish but it is one that should be acknowledged.  For example, one of the things I find truly good and right about the Community of Sant’Egidio is a healthy relationship between priests and laity.  These two groups are neither in competition nor are they set apart and, I believe, neither should they be viewed so.  I bring this perspective with me into the parish.  I am willing to work with the people of a parish as fellow disciples and I believe that people notice this and appreciate it.  Yes, priests have specific roles and the pastor does have specific duties and responsibilities but these are best lived within the whole context of a community seeking discipleship together even as it may make things more laborious at times.  Frankly, I believe that the priest needs to avoid the common temptation of playing the hero and the people need to avoid the temptation of seeking to make the priest the hero as a way of avoiding their own responsibility.  We are disciples together.

As we began Holy Week 2016, I shared with the St. Dominic community the thought that our Lord greatly desires to spend these days with us. In the thirteenth chapter of John’s gospel, we find expressed a great longing and even tender love on our Lord’s part to be with his disciples and prepare them for what is to come even as his own hour approaches.  This is a perspective firmly rooted in the gospels and an awareness that the Community of Sant’Egidio maintains.  There is a deeper movement to Holy Week than that of us going about our rituals professing our belief, together yet isolated at the same time.  Christ himself gathers us in and he gathers each one of us.  Christ wants to spend these days with all of his disciples and with each disciple.  We are not forgotten and we are not disposable.  We are each remembered by Christ in Holy Week and we are each wanted by Christ.  He greatly desires to spend these days with each of us.

Within the above mentioned deeper context of Holy Week there were three particular moments that the Community of Sant’Egidio accompanied St. Dominic Parish these days. The moments were not “Sant’Egidio only” but were a joint accompanying between the parish and the community.  The three moments were Mercy Palms on Palm Sunday, the Prayer for the Martyrs and the ongoing relationship with our sister parish in Blantyre, Malawi.  I would like to reflect a little on each aspect.

In a way to live the Jubilee Year of Mercy, Marco Impagliazzo (the president of the Community of Sant’Egidio) invited all the groupings of Sant’Egidio worldwide to live Palm Sunday as a demonstration of mercy. In the spirit of Pope Francis, we were invited to take the palms outside the walls of our church as a visible sign of God’s love and mercy for the poor and forgotten in our society.  At St. Dominic’s we decided to do this by making close to 150 palm crosses and taking them as a gift to our friends at Holston Manor Nursing Home.  We gathered on Palm Sunday afternoon with a few of our friends in the day room of Holston Manor.  We had a simple ceremony with a reading of the gospel and blessing of the palm crosses.  Those present had some social time together and then after a while our group divided up and we took the palm crosses throughout the nursing home, offering them to every resident we met as well as staff members.  It was a simple gesture but a gesture that said “you are not forgotten”.  The residents were truly grateful.  In this simple act, St. Dominic Parish and Sant’ Egidio began Holy Week together by going out to the poor and forgotten in a gesture of mercy.

On Monday night of Holy Week, St. Dominic Parish with the Sant’Egidio Community offered the Prayer for the Martyrs. This prayer is an annual remembering of our Christian brothers and sisters who have offered their lives for the gospel within the past year and in the recent past.  This was the second year that this prayer was offered at St. Dominic Church.  This prayer is very meaningful and beautiful.  The Prayer for the Martyrs fits quite well within the first few days of Holy Week and helps to bring a deeper awareness and connection with our fellow Christians who are experiencing persecution for their faith in Christ.  Prayer is powerful and it is a good and important thing for the Church to gather in prayer and to remember that the names of our brothers and sisters are not forgotten and are precious to our Lord.

In the fall of 2015, St. Dominic Parish began a sister parish relationship with St. Vincent de Paul Parish in Blantyre, Malawi – a church staffed by priests of the Community of Sant’Egidio. St. Dominic’s is currently raising funds that will enable to parish and school in Malawi to build housing for teachers that will, in turn, allow the school to attract good teachers and make sure that classes do not have to be cancelled due to transportation difficulties during the rainy season.  We believe that the best way we can help to have a long term impact is to strengthen education possibilities in the local community.  Our parish youth coordinated a fund drive during the season of Lent for the school at our sister parish.  The presence in friendship of our sister parish was expressed during Holy Week through photos from Malawi shared via social media as well as a note from Fr. Ernest, the pastor of St. Vincent de Paul Parish.

We do accompany one another along the journey of faith and this is especially true during Holy Week. I can only speak to my experience with Sant’Egidio and the parish, but I do believe that the movements within our Catholic Church have great gifts to share with our parish communities and vice versa.  We all mutually benefit from this sharing and accompanying.  We help one another along.  Together, St. Dominic Parish and the Community of Sant’Egidio, celebrated a Holy Week where we were both gathered in by our Lord and sent forth to proclaim the truth of the resurrection and God’s love!

I wish this reflection to be a beginning of a dialogue so I encourage friends both within the parish structure and within Sant’Egidio to share your thoughts through comments. I would enjoy hearing from you.  Here are a few question for reflection that might help begin the process:

What do you find life-giving about your parish? What do you find life-giving about your experience with a movement within the Church?

How was Holy Week celebrated in the context in which you found yourself? What was profound about the celebration and what might have been limited?

How might movements “accompany” parishes both during such times as Holy Week but also throughout the year? How might parishes benefit from this accompanying?  How might movements benefit from this accompanying?

The abandoned burial cloths

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empty_tombAt the end of Luke’s gospel (Lk. 24:1-12), once the women had shared with the disciples what had occurred at the tomb, we are told that Peter runs to the tomb and upon arriving he bends down and sees “the burial cloths alone”. It seems an almost inconsequential thing.  The main fact is the empty tomb, right?  The burial cloths are just an after-thought one might think.  John, in his gospel, is even more precise – the burial cloths are also noted but then John shares that the cloth used to cover the head of Christ was rolled up in a separate place.

In the eleventh chapter of John’s gospel we find the story of the raising of Lazarus. Jesus arrives at the tomb of his friend who has now been dead for four days.  Jesus commands that the stone be removed and then he cries with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out.” John 11:44 reads this way; “The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with bandages, and his head wrapped with a cloth. Jesus said to them, ‘Unbind him, and let him go.’”  

Lazarus emerges from the tomb still wrapped in the cloths of death because he is raised back to a life that is still bound by mortality. He will one day die again.  In the empty tomb of Christ, the burial cloths have been left behind because Christ has been raised to newness of life.  He who once was dead now lives forever!  Death no longer has power over him!

Our God is a God of life and not of death. Guided by the Spirit we can now read this throughout salvation history.  God created everything and all life out of the sheer gratuity and abundance of his love.  God looks upon his creation and proclaims it to be good!  When the people of Israel were enslaved God heard their cry.  God freed them from their slavery and led them into the new life of their own land and their covenant with him.  The prophets, again and again, call the people back to true life that can only be found in relationship with God.  Even when the people profaned the covenant and the very name of God, God promises that he will restore them and cleanse them for the sake of his own holy name.  God cannot be other than God.  John tells us that “God is love” and Pope Francis asks us all to recognize this holy year that the name of God is mercy.

Through the prophet Ezekiel, God promises that not only will he cleanse us outwardly but, even more so, that he will give us a new heart and a new spirit and that he will take from us our stony hearts and give us natural hearts.

In the empty tomb of Christ, with the burial cloths discarded and left behind, God removes our stony hearts. In the very place of death and decay, God gives us a new heart and a new spirit!  Our God is a God of life and not death.

The new heart and new spirit of the Christian flows from the empty tomb of Christ and this new heart has already begun beating! Our resurrection to new life has already begun.  St. Paul (and all the saints by their very lives) remind us that through our baptisms we have died with Christ in order to rise to newness of life with him.  We now live for God in Christ Jesus!

In Christ, the tomb is emptied and the cloths of burial are left behind. Now, we, in Christ, can leave behind the life-denying cloths that bind us and all of humanity – the burial cloths of sin, violence, arrogance, egocentrism, injustice, isolation and fear.  In Christ, we have risen to newness of life!  In Christ, we can live again for one another and for God!  Death is not the final word!  Newness of life in Christ flows out of the empty and defeated tomb.

The tomb is emptied. The cloths that bind are left behind.  Christ is risen!  We are given a new heart and we can now live in newness of life!

The “Gathering In” of Holy Week

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Christ Washing Peter's Feet, Ford Madox BrownSo much of the Christian life seems to be about “going out”. We are called to go out to proclaim the good news.  We go out to share Christ’s love.  We go out to serve others.  This is good and authentic to our faith and it is the mandate that Christ has given us as Church to proclaim the good news to the ends of the earth.

That being said, it is interesting to note that Holy Week – the most sacred days of our year as Christians – is a time of “gathering in”. This is appropriate and right, I believe, because Jesus, himself, wants this time with his disciples.  More than just a remembering on our part; Jesus desires to spend these days with us.

In chapter thirteen of John’s Gospel we read the evangelist’s account of the Last Supper. John begins by setting the context as being the time of the celebration of Passover.  More so than the great Jewish feast; this is to be the time when our Lord will “pass over” death in order to return to the Father in triumph.  Certainly our Lord is preparing himself for the hour which has arrived but, important to note, he is also much concerned to prepare his disciples.  He knows that they will be tested over the next few days, he knows that one will betray him, that one will deny him and that they will flee and be afraid.  He also knows that eventually they will be sent out into the whole earth to proclaim the good news.  Jesus knows the weakness, limits and confusion of his disciples yet he loves them. Before the festival of the Passover, Jesus, knowing that his hour had come to pass from this world to the Father, having loved those who were his in the world, loved them to the end. (Jn. 13:1)

Scholars suggest that the Greek term “to the end” has two connotations. It can mean, “to the end of his life” and it can also mean, “to the very limit, the very maximum, of love”.  Christ loves his disciples, his “little ones” to the fullest extent and he greatly desires to spend this time with them.

There is a great tenderness of love that is being expressed in the account of the Last Supper. Jesus takes the role of the servant when he washes his disciples’ feet.  Peter knows that this is a fundamental break with the prevailing custom of the time.  It was the role of the servant, the slave to wash the feet of the guests not the role of the head of the household.  Yet, Jesus is the head of the household who is willing to serve and he tells his disciples that they must do the same.  They do not fully understand now but they will later.  More than just a nice symbol, token or remembrance, this call to serve and die to self is the royal road on which the disciple directly encounters our Lord.

I give you a new commandment: love one another; you must love one another just as I have loved you. It is by your love for one another, that everyone will recognize you as my disciples.  (Jn. 13:34-35) The love that we must have as Christians must be based in that very love that Christ has for us and it is in this love particularly that his little ones will be recognized as his disciples.

At this point Peter asks a question from which we all benefit; Simon Peter said, “Lord, where are your going?” Jesus replied, “Now you cannot follow me where I am going, but later you shall follow me.” Peter said to him, “Why can I not follow you now?  I will lay down my life for you.”  “Lay down your life for me?” answered Jesus.  “In all truth I tell you, before the cock crows you will have disowned me three times.” (Jn. 13:36-38)

“Now you cannot follow me where I am going, but later you shall follow me.” Yes, later Peter will follow our Lord to the sacrifice of his own life and beyond that to the glory of eternity with God but there is another, even more fundamental, following implied here. Peter must first learn the way of love that our Lord has initiated at the Last Supper.  Peter (the little one who balked at having his feet washed) is not yet ready to learn this true extent of love that the disciple of Christ is to be recognized by but he will be ready later.  And it is by the royal road of this love that Peter will later be able to then let go of his very self, even to the point of death.

We are all so much like Peter. We all think we have so much figured out yet, in truth, we all have so much to learn but Christ loves us to the end.

These days are more than just a remembrance. These days are more than something we do to acknowledge our faith.  Christ, our Lord, desires to spend these days with us.

Christ gathers us in and Christ loves us to the end.

Thoughts on the Sunday readings: God in the thorns

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moses-and-burning-bushJewish midrash is a way of interpreting Hebrew Scripture that seeks to fill in the gaps and therefore bring forth truths of faith. A midrash on the scene of God appearing to Moses in the burning bush that we heard in the first reading (Ex. 3:1-8a,13-15) holds that the bush had thorns.  God witnessed the suffering of the Hebrew people in Egypt, their daily struggle and pain, and therefore God chose to reveal Himself to Moses in the midst of a thorn bush to show that He is a God who is present in the midst of the suffering of his people.

The classic translation of the name that God provides Moses is “I am who I am.” Some scholars suggest that this translation relies too heavily on Greek thinking which tended more toward the philosophical and abstract.  A translation that would lean more toward the Hebraic way of thinking which is more concrete and dynamic in its understanding of being is “I am the one who I am there.”  In this understanding, the revelation of the name of God is immediately connected with his covenant to the people of Israel.  God is not removed, God is revealed as a God who is in the midst of his people.  God’s very being is a “being-for-His-people.”

In the first letter of John we are given the singularly important teaching that “God is love”. This is first and foremost but the way by which we know God as love is the way of mercy.  Mercy is God’s love poured out, given that we might have life.  When we were lost, when we had sinned and wandered far from God, God sought us out.  God sought out Abram and made a covenant with him and his descendants.  God hears the cry of his people in Egypt and he seeks them out.  God enters into their suffering.  God is “I am the one who I am there.”

The fullest revelation of who God is; is our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Christ fully reveals both the love and the mercy of God and Christ is that full revelation of the name of God.  In Christ, God fully enters into the thorns of our suffering.  God is revealed in the very midst of our pain, our loss and our weakness.  I am the one who I am there.

But we on our part need to make a choice. This is part of the gospel message for today (Lk. 13:1-9).  Through the incarnation God has entered into his creation and its injustices and tragedies.  I am who I am there.  Christ acknowledges the unjust killing of the Galileans by Pilate as well as the tragic death of those people killed when the tower collapsed.  We each have only so many days allotted us, what choice are we going to make?  CSacred-heart-of-jesus-ibarraranhrist comes to reveal the truth of who God is and to call us into relationship with Him because here and only here is where we will find true life.  What choice will we make?  We each have only so many days allotted us.

The midrash teaches that God revealed himself to Moses in the midst of a thorn bush. Isn’t it interesting that when Jesus, who is God with us and for us, is being scourged he is crowned with a crown of thorns?  In a couple of weeks we will hold the Enthronement of the Sacred Heart Mission here at St. Dominic Church.  The image at the center of the mission is the Sacred Heart of our Lord – a heart both divine and human and a heart surrounded by a crown of thorns beating in love and mercy for us.

The Transfiguration of our Lord: Extraordinary and Ordinary

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transfiguration of Jesus1

The Transfiguration of our Lord by Giovanni Girolamo Savoldo

We can say that Lent is an extraordinary time lived in an ordinary season. We fast, we pray, we do works of charity – all while we also go about the ordinary rhythm of our lives.  We still go to work, we still go to school, we visit with one another, we pay bills…  The ordinary rhythm of life continues on even while we make the extraordinary journey of Lent.

We have echoes of this “extraordinary in the ordinary” in our readings for this second Sunday of Lent. In the gospel (Lk. 9:28b-36) our Lord takes Peter, James and John up on the mountain to pray.  The three disciples experience the transfiguration of our Lord as he is in prayer to the Father.  They catch a glimpse of the truth of who Christ is and they are awestruck … but the world continues on.  The other nine disciples were probably about the duties of an ordinary day, for the people in the closest village it was just another day like any other.  The world did not stop even as this amazing event occurs.  Peter, understandably, wants to remain in this extraordinary experience but the gospel goes on to say that he “did not know what he was saying.” Our God does not disdain the ordinary.  For God the extraordinary and the ordinary are not opposed.

Just as Jesus took the three disciples up the mountain to pray, we are told that God “took Abram outside” to see and count the number of the stars (Gen. 15:5-12,17-18).  Our God values our company.  He does not like to walk alone.  Even with the surreal and mystical image of animals being sacrificed and Abram in a trance, God binds himself to an ordinary group of people, Abram’s descendants, in order to walk with them through the running of time and history and thereby bring them (and through them all of humanity) into the fullness of his Kingdom.  Christ himself values our ordinary company.  The gospels are consistent in this message.  Christ does not see himself as some tragic, solitary hero.  Christ binds himself to his ordinary, little group of followers even as he is fully aware of their weaknesses and their limits.

“Yes,” says the author of Philippians, “our citizenship is in heaven” and to this we direct our lives but we now live our lives here in this world so “stand firm in the Lord” (Phil. 3:17-4:1). Our actions here in our ordinary world and lives should reflect the extraordinary glory of our citizenship in heaven which is the hope we journey toward.

For God the extraordinary and the ordinary are not opposed. The same ought to be true for us.  We can be awakened, our eyes can be opened to see the extraordinary in the ordinary if we allow ourselves to be “taken up” by Christ.  Just as Christ took the three disciples up the mountain to pray, just as God took Abram outside to gaze at the heavens, we need to allow Christ to take us and pull us away from our own selfishness and draw us into his own life.  If we allow this to happen then we can participate in a greater reality, our eyes will be opened and we will begin to see as Christ sees.  We also can be transfigured.

It has been said that the transfiguration “means breaking boundaries. It means contemplating how good the Lord is, how wide his horizons are, and how deep the demands of his Gospel are.”  May each one of us be a little more transfigured during this extraordinary time lived in an ordinary season.

The witness of Eli: Mentoring Young People

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hannah taking samuel to eli  222On January 31st, the Church will celebrate the Feast of St. John Bosco – a man who devoted his life to helping young people.  One of the greatest blessings of our Christian faith is the witness of men and women throughout history who let go of their own needs and worked tirelessly for the good of youth and those generations who were to come after them. The witness of these men and women should call us, as the Church, into a reflection on how best to minister to youth and young adults, especially in a time and culture that is “youth obsessed”.  We can readily see how this obsession plays itself out in all areas of society – the entertainment and news media industry, politics, sports, education, relationships – just to name a few.  A fair question is how might this “obsession with youth” bleed into and perhaps even negatively influence the Church’s own ministry to youth and young adults just as they are seeking to claim their own Christian faith and discipleship and how might we best avoid the danger of this obsession?

For full disclosure, I will begin by stating that one of the core convictions I gained in my ministry with youth and young adults is that young people do not benefit from older people trying to act or pretend young; rather young people benefit when their elders remember their own age and are authentic to who they, themselves, are.

To use an image from Scripture: in our world today, young Samuels need the guidance of older and wiser Elis.  For any person ministering to young people, 1 Samuel 2-3 is an important and essential point of reference.  There is much insight to be gained in continually returning to these chapters. Eli is one of the unsung heroes of Scripture.  For our purposes here, we will make use of the famous encounter between the young Samuel and the elder Eli as a way to explore some thoughts.

In the second chapter of 1 Samuel we are told that the Lord had withdrawn his favor from the house of the priest Eli due to the corrupt actions of his two sons, Hophni and Phinehas.  Yet the young Samuel “continued to grow both in stature and favor with the Lord and with men.” (1 Samuel 2:26)  In the third chapter we find the well-known scene of the young Samuel hearing the voice of the Lord, mistaking it for the voice of the old priest and going each time to the sleeping Eli until finally Eli catches on to what is happening and instructs the young man in how to respond.

Our focus here is more on Eli than Samuel.  There are four things that Eli does and personifies which are worthy of reflection and emulation.

  1. Eli has a relationship with the young Samuel while not pretending to be Samuel’s peer.
  2. Eli was a man of prayer who was able to eventually recognize what was occurring and then give good instruction to the young man.
  3. Eli put what was in Samuel’s best interest before his own.
  4. Eli trusted in God.

The fact that the young Samuel is comfortable in seeking out the elder Eli each time he hears the voice of the Lord testifies to an established relationship of trust between the two persons yet nowhere is there expressed any confusion between their differing roles.  Eli knows who he is and therefore he is comfortable in his own skin and he has no need to pretend to be something that he is not.  An approach to Christian faith and ministry that needs to abandon itself and our Christian heritage in order to chase after the world in the hopes of relevancy lacks maturity and therefore any real depth of insight to offer a young person who is searching.  It might be flashy in the moment but beyond that there is just really not that much there.

What enabled Eli to be comfortable in his own skin and act out of his own authenticity was that he was a man of prayer.  Like any true discipline, the fruit of prayer is only born after the establishment of a hard-fought for habit and practice.  Let’s be honest, the discipline of prayer is not easy. That which enabled Eli to finally recognize what was occurring with the young Samuel was a lifetime spent devoted to the often daily and mundane work of prayer.  An approach to Christian faith and prayer which seeks to manufacture “spiritual highs” at all times rather than developing the daily discipline of prayer is more about feeding addiction than honest Christian spirituality.  Such an approach is in fact a disservice.  The life of Christian faith grows gradually, often unnoticed and through daily habit.

Not only did Eli know what the Lord’s call meant for the young Samuel; he also knew what it meant for him and his family.  Frankly, God’s calling of Samuel meant the end of the road for Eli and his own sons.  It would not be out of place to believe that this recognition must have crossed Eli’s mind along with the temptation to intentionally misguide the youth in an attempt to watch out for his own sons.  Yet, Eli did no such thing.  Eli put Samuel’s best interest before his own and even that of his sons.  This will forever be in Eli’s favor.  To let go of self for the good of another person takes a mature and wise heart. Wisdom is sorely lacking in our world today and one way that this can sadly be seen is when members of an older generation cannot let go of their own interests, needs and particular viewpoints in deference to what is in the best interest of the younger generation.  When we let go of our own needs to help those who come after us then we make a choice for hope and a choice for the future.

I believe that one of the many contributing factors behind younger generations no longer defining themselves as religious is their own experience of their elders’ inability to put the needs of others before their own – the “elders” in this context being a generation of people who would more readily define themselves as “religious”.  When young people no longer define themselves as religious are they forsaking religion per se or are they reacting against impoverished examples of religion which they have seen?  True maturity is found in not always needing to put oneself first. True maturity is expressed in seeking the good of the other person.  It is this type of maturity that truly aids the next generation, as shown in this encounter between the elder Eli and the young Samuel.

What enables this letting go is a profound trust in God.  Eli had such a trust.  Following upon God’s revelation to Samuel; Eli requests that the young Samuel inform him of all that had been spoken by the Lord, holding nothing back.  Samuel shares all, including the ending of Eli’s house.  Eli responds, “It is the Lord, let him do what seems good to him.” (1 Samuel 3:18)  Eli’s trust in the Lord was perhaps one of his greatest gifts to the young Samuel.  A faith obsessed with pursuing youth and relevancy lacks this depth of trust because it is a depth that can only be achieved by negation and passing through the dark night of the senses.  At this point, everything Eli had been about was negated yet he is able to offer this profound statement of trust in the Lord.  In the end, the most important thing is that God’s will be done.

It does the Church no good to chase after the world.  Yes, we live in the world and there are truly positive things to be gained and we must seek to encounter and dialogue with the times we find ourselves in but it does no good if we are co-opted and lose our own soul in the process.  Eli has much to teach us about helping younger generations find and know God while, at the same time, remaining authentic to who we ourselves are.

The Wedding at Cana: Heart speaks to Heart

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The-wedding-at-Cana.3There is much worthy of reflecting upon in today’s gospel (Jn. 2:1-11) which gives the account of our Lord’s first public miracle – the turning of water into wine and the wedding in Cana. We can see in the image of the couple running out of wine on their wedding day a symbol of the ending of the Old Covenant and the freshness of the New Covenant beginning with our Lord turning water into wine.  We can see in Mary’s noticing of the wine running short a concern for the young (and probably poor) couple who will soon be greatly embarrassed by not being able to provide for their guests.  The first step of true mercy is noticing needs and not being indifferent toward others in their plight.  This is a good witness Mary gives us during this Year of Mercy.

What I was struck by in praying over this gospel passage was the depth of the relationship (and this word is important) between Jesus and his mother.  Mary does not even need to ask.  She knows her son and even if she does not know fully how everything will play out she knows who he is and why he has come. “They have no wine,” is all that she needs to say.  Our Lord knows what she is implying, “Woman, how does your concern affect me? My hour has not yet come.”  Our Lord acknowledges the truth of Mary’s concern and for a brief instant we are invited into this amazing and profound exchange between the sacred heart of Christ and the immaculate heart of Mary.  Bl. John Henry Cardinal Newman had a phrase regarding the true place and moment of encounter and conversion in life: “Heart speaks to Heart”. “Fill the jars with water,” Mary responds.  Jesus, who is God made man, acquiesces; “Draw some out now and take it to the headwaiter.” The water is turned into wine which nourishes and refreshes!

Heart can only speak to heart in the willingness to enter into relationship. New life (and even miracles) can occur only when we let go of isolation and fear.

When St. Francis began the great spiritual journey of his life he made a simple prayer to God for an “honest faith”. Part of having an “honest faith” is to live a personal relationship with Christ.  We can relate to Christ in a multitude of ways but that does not make them fully honest and therefore life-giving.  I can see Christ as a great human being worthy of admiration or a wise teacher whose lessons are worthy of my attention and learning.  I can see Christ as the authentic human person.  I can see Christ as a means to my personal well-being.  There might be some truth to these viewpoints of Christ but they all fall short both of honest relationship and of who Christ is.

Christ is savior. This is the honest faith of the Christian and it is the most profound relationship any of us can have with Christ.  When we know Christ as savior then we know him as the one who saves us from sin and death and the one who calls us to follow him wholeheartedly.  Christ is savior and this is truth – pure and simple.

Faith can be life giving and even transformative only when it is lived in relationship with Christ. Ideas of Christ might be interesting and even satisfy for a time but it is only relationship with Christ that turns water into wine.  Mary witnesses this for us.  Heart speaks to heart.

We should all learn from St. Francis and pray for an “honest faith” – a faith willing to let heart speak to heart. Our hearts to the heart of our Savior and his sacred heart to our little hearts.

Gifts from my parents: a reflection in faith

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What is it that leads people into the Catholic Church? I recently found myself reflecting on this question as I visited the gravesites of my parents, both of whom were converts.  I do not have a neat, black and white answer and I don’t remember my parents ever giving one either.  It is interesting how parents can remain a mystery to their children.  A mystery that only deepens after the parent dies and the children are left with jigsaw puzzle memories.

My parents lived their Catholic faith although I think both would admit their struggles. My father was an alcoholic – a disease which he would never overcome that took his life and his marriage.  My mother, for the good of her boys, finally separated from my father but such a disruption is never perfect nor good.  Faith-wise, my family was thrown into limbo for most of my childhood and teenage years.  At best we were twice a year Catholics, lost and confused – reeling from the effects of the modern, shattered family.

IMG_3887My father was brought up in a Presbyterian household although how staunch it was is open for debate. A story I once heard was of an exchange which occurred sometime after my father’s conversion when my two great aunts from Mississippi made a visit to my grandfather and grandmother.  Noticing a little dust on the family Bible one aunt is said to have remarked, “Maybe if that Bible was not dusty, Jack would never have converted.”  A number of years later my own aunt (my father’s sister) would tell these same two great-aunts, “Michael has decided to enter Catholic seminary and we are very proud.”  The southern equivalent of drawing a line in the sand!

My grandfather was a self-made and successful businessman who established a local business and, at some point, acquired a bottling company in Cuba. This was pre-Castro when Cuba was open and, apparently, quite the place to be.  Every now and then my father would share memories of being a young boy visiting Cuba and he would smile when he talked of visiting some Catholic churches and shrines in the country.  Even to the end of his life my father enjoyed spending whole evenings sitting and listening to records of Cuban music.  I cannot help but believe that the lived faith my father witnessed in Cuba as a young man lit a spark that eventually led him to embrace Catholicism.

IMG_3889My mother did not grow up in affluence as my father did. Her childhood was spent in a small town in North Carolina.  Nominally, I believe that she was raised Baptist but it seems that church was not a major factor in her younger years.  She did once tell me that for a while she worked at a local Methodist retreat center frequented by the young (and then single) Billy Graham.  “All the young ladies would swoon over him,” my mom once confided.  She never said if she was one of the ones swooning.  Right out of high school my mother left Brevard to work in book-keeping for a man who owned a number of hotels scattered around the southeast.  Mr. Faw was a good man.  He looked like Colonel Sanders, the founder of Kentucky Fried Chicken, and for the fun of it would sometimes dress like the fast food icon just to see people’s reaction.  Mrs. Faw was of Eastern European descent and she once gave my mother an eighteenth century lithograph of the Virgin Mary holding the infant Jesus.  My mother treasured this gift and today it hangs on my wall.

IMG_3888At one point (prior to marrying my father) my mother was sent to a hotel owned by Mr. Faw in Oak Ridge, TN. At that time it was the only hotel in the city and therefore the temporary residence of visiting scientists from all over the world who came to do work and research in the government-run laboratories.  My mother met a wide variety of people those years and at one point was approached by the FBI to help keep tabs on a visiting couple that the government thought had Russian connections.  For this effort my mother received a signed letter from J. Edgar Hoover thanking her for her service to her country.   One scientist my mother met and became a good friend of was a Franciscan nun from the Northeast.  She taught at a university and had come to Oak Ridge to do some research.  She and my mother remained friends for many years and I do believe that her friendship and that of Mr. and Mrs. Faw were what helped my mother in recognizing the beauty of the Catholic faith which, in turn, enabled her to make the choice to become Catholic.

When I was studying theology I took a class on the thought of Bl. John Henry Cardinal Newman. It was in that class that I first heard the term, “The Illative Sense”.  Fundamentally, the illative sense in regards to faith, is that capacity that the human person has to draw from a multitude of converging and intersecting common human experiences the belief and sure conviction that there is a transcendent dimension to reality and that there is a personal God who seeks encounter with us.  One experience alone is not enough but when the experiences add up we have the ability to connect the dots.  The illative sense is not so much an academic exercise (although that might be an essential component) as it is a fundamental living recognition of experience.  Things just kind of add up and it is in this “adding up” that a person is able to make the step in faith.

2014-06-14_22-38-52_408My father and mother each walked their own journey of life and of faith (like we all do) but through their journeys and their own reflecting on experiences (i.e. use of the illative sense) they both came to belief in God and in the Church. I do not know all the experiences that added up to their each making their choice for faith.  I never will and that is probably for the best.  There are some things rightly left between the soul and God alone.  These are and will remain the missing jigsaw pieces of their own journeys but I must admit that I do take great delight when I hear a story or memory shared that sheds a little more light on the journey each one had.  These insights bring me joy and, I believe, are gifts given to help us who remain to continue our own journeys of life and faith.

The Feast of the Epiphany: following bees and following the star

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beeSome of the best advice I ever came across regarding homily preparation was in an essay written by Annie Dillard. In the essay Dillard made use of the imagery of following bees as a way of exploring the adventure of writing.  If you want to find a bee hive (and honey) then follow a bee.  If you lose sight of the first bee then wait and when you catch sight of another bee follow it.  By so doing you will eventually be led to the bee hive.  The same is true for writing.  When an idea or thought, no matter how strange or non-sensical it seems at the outset, pops in your head then follow it.  Let the thought lead you even if you do not know exactly where it is going.  It may take you to where you want to go.  If it takes you only so far then stay there and wait for the next thought.

When I begin to pray over the readings I try to pay attention to what “pops” for me. It might be an image or a phrase or a play of words.  Then I try to let that lead me.  It may take me all the way to where I want to go or it may not.  It may take me only so far.  It may take me to another thought (sometimes one which I was not even expecting) or a book I once read, or a movie scene or a song lyric or a memory.  There are many times that I sit down to write out a homily following that first “pop” that I really have no idea where I am ultimately going or I end up in a spot I did not think I would end up at.

Following bees takes patience, trust and faith. Following a star also takes patience, trust and faith.  But certainly there is a difference.  A bee is a small thing, easily overlooked and lost, and the star of Bethlehem must have shown bright for all to see.  The gospel (Mt. 2:1-12) tells us that the magi from the East recognized the star but it seems that all of Jerusalem was oblivious.  Herod, after all, had to ascertain from the magi the time of the star’s appearance.  Apparently, the star had not really made much of an impression upon Jerusalem.  Maybe the star of Bethlehem was not as bright and overpowering as we so often assume from Christmas imagery?  Maybe it takes more faith, more trust and more patience to follow a smaller star than a larger and brighter one?  Yet the magi followed.  They raised their eyes to the heavens and saw the star and they followed.

In the first reading (Is. 60:1-6) we hear the prophet Isaiah admonishing Jerusalem to rise up! Yes, darkness covers the earth and there are thick clouds that envelop the people but the light has come! “Raise your eyes and look about,” proclaims the prophet.  Yes the light has come but for our part we must raise our eyes.  We can almost say that Jerusalem was content to be oblivious and to be oblivious means to keep our eyes down and not even dream of raising them.  To be oblivious means to give in to the darkness of sin and violence and the thick clouds of resignation that tell us that this is just the way things have always been and will always be.

In the Epiphany we are no longer afforded the luxury of remaining oblivious. The light of God has appeared for all nations, for all peoples and for all times!  As Christians we must learn the discipline of the magi.  We must raise our eyes and look about!  We have to learn the faith, the trust and the patience needed to follow the star.  We have to be willing to let our faith lead us even when do not fully know where it is going.  We have to learn to follow even the smallest stars that point us toward God and his Kingdom.  And we have to resist, in every way, the voices of resignation – the thick clouds that can cover the earth and cover our hearts.

As Christians, we celebrate the Epiphany – the light of Christ has dawned for all peoples and nations. As Christians, we must be the Epiphany.  Our very lives must reveal the light of Christ in our world.  We begin to do this by making the choice to raise our eyes, to look about and to follow the star of God’s Kingdom.

Mary’s witness: Fourth Sunday of Advent (C)

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maryTwo things struck me as I prayed over the gospel this past week. The first is when Luke tells us that Mary entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth.  I found myself returning again and again to that scene in my imagination.  How joy-filled it must have been!  Mary stepping into this house which for too long had been barren of the sound of new life, the sound of children.  Elizabeth said that the child in her womb leapt for joy at the sound of Mary’s greeting – a confirmation of what the angel had promised Zechariah.  What was thought barren will now bring forth life and it will be a life that, in turn, will proclaim the coming of the Messiah!  For nothing is impossible to God.

Mary comes to Zechariah and Elizabeth not as we are, weakened and wounded by sin, rather she comes as God would have us. On December 8th we affirmed that Mary is the Immaculate Conception.  In a great mystery she is preserved from sin.  In Mary we see not the exception but in fact the true norm – the human condition as God intends.  Mary reveals our true nature and dignity where sin obscures, denigrates and denies.  The very presence of Mary reveals that sin and evil are, in fact, the exception and will always be so.  Sin and evil have no true power.  Sin and evil can destroy and tear down life but they can never bring forth new life.  God alone is the author of life.

Mary is the true missionary of hope and Mary stands as the great witness to the impotence of evil.

The second thing that struck me is when Elizabeth proclaims Mary “blessed” because she believed that what the Lord had spoken to her would be fulfilled. Someone recently asked me if Mary could have said “no” to the angel Gabriel and refuse God’s request.  Mary certainly had free will in that moment and it was a free will untainted by original sin.  Mary chose to believe.  Despite all things to the contrary – the darkness and violence of the world, the confusion of what the angel’s words meant, the scandal that would be in the eyes and thoughts of people – Mary chose to believe that what God had spoken to her would be fulfilled.

This last Sunday of Advent, standing before the celebration of Christmas, Mary witnesses to us the true impotence of evil and that God alone is the author of life. Mary also witnesses to us the choice to believe that what God has promised God will fulfill.  We need to live the hope of this season and we need to learn from Mary how to be missionaries and witnesses of hope.

Recently Archbishop Joseph Kurtz (current president of the U.S. Conference of Bishops) shared the following words in a statement regarding the violent times we find ourselves in and how we are to respond as Christians.

We must not respond in fear. We are called to be heralds of hope and prophetic voices against senseless violence, a violence which can never be justified by invoking the name of God. Watching innocent lives taken and wondering whether the violence will reach our own families rightly stirs our deepest protective emotions. We must resist the hatred and suspicion that leads to policies of discrimination. Instead, we must channel our emotions of concern and protection, born in love, into a vibrant witness to the dignity of every person. We should employ immigration laws that are humane and keep us safe, but should never target specific classes of persons based on religion. When we fail to see the difference between our enemies and people of good will, we lose a part of who we are as people of faith. Policies of fear and inflammatory rhetoric will only offer extremists fertile soil and pave the way toward a divisive, fearful future. As Pope Francis reminded us in his speech to Congress: “The yardstick by which we measure others is the yardstick by which time will measure us.”  

When we recognize the impotence of evil, we stand with Mary. When we make the choice to not give in to fear and to believe that what God has promised God will fulfill then we stand with Mary.

Come, Lord Jesus!