A visit to Glendalough

(I am currently on an eleven day diocesan pilgrimage to Ireland.  Our pilgrimage group is visiting different religious and cultural sites in the central and southern part of Ireland.  The following is a reflection on our visit to the ruins of the monastic city of Glendalough.) 

Glendalough is a glacially-formed valley in Ireland that is within an hour’s drive outside of Dublin.  The name means “glen of the two lakes”.  The glen is remarkable for its peacefulness and beauty.  In the sixth century, St. Kevin arrived in the glen seeking a life of prayer, penitence and contact with nature.  The reputation of the holy man grew and other people came to the glen seeking Christian community.  A monastic city grew and thrived there for centuries.  Scholars estimate that at its height around one thousand souls lived within the monastic city with non-monastics (merchants, tradesmen, etc.) living outside its walls and pilgrims arriving continuously from all over Ireland and Europe.  The monastic city became a center of faith, learning, peace and life within the dark and often violent times of the middle ages.  The city was destroyed around 1368 A.D. by British troops and now all that is left are the stone ruins of a once thriving faith and cultural center.
 
Today, as I toured Glendalough and learned its history, I was reminded of the stunning mosaic above the main altar in the Basilica of San Clemente in Rome.  In the center of the mosaic is the cross of Christ and from the cross sprouts branches calling to mind the saying of Christ that he is the branch and that we are the branches and that the cross is indeed the “tree of life”.  Within the twists and turns of these branches are found different images of culture and life: artists at work, people performing music, laborers, people learning and many more such images.  The mosaic testifies that life flows from the cross of Christ and that it is life that both transforms and builds culture.  The monastic city of Glendalough was a living testimony of this truth.  In a savage and brutal time a man began a community that, informed by the Christian faith and the light of the Gospel, developed learning and truly aided humanity.  I would say that Ireland and in fact all of humanity is in a better place because St. Kevin and his followers took the light of the Gospel seriously and, by so doing, raised the human condition. 
The monastic city of Glendalough and the mosaic of San Clemente remind us that Church and faith build culture.  This is an important memory for Christians as we live in a time steeped with revisionist history and agendas seeking to cast the Catholic Church solely in negative and demonizing terms.  These tendencies portray the Catholic Church as an impediment to human progress rather than the catalyst that it has historically been and also continues to be.  History records that St. Kevin’s faith, and the vision of the monastic city, brought light and hope to a truly dark and dangerous time.  This is just one example of a multitude throughout history and around the world.
We, as Christians, must be prepared to do the same today.  I would even go so far as to say that we cannot but do so because it is within the very makeup of who we are.  The mosaic of San Clemente demonstrates this almost organic connection between the proclamation of the Gospel and the growth of human learning, light and hope.  God is the source of all knowledge, light and truth; therefore, to encounter Christ is to encounter truth and light.  It is easy to tear down.  It is not easy to build.  The Christian faith builds culture and life and this work shines forth even more brilliantly and truly when the surrounding ethos has nothing to truly offer the deepest yearning of the human heart. 
Does this mean that we need to seek out our own Glendaloughs and retreat from the troubles of our age?  First, I would say that some men and women are called to the monastic and eremitic witness but not the majority.  Second, I would say that St. Kevin and monastics and hermits of all times do not “hide away” from the human condition but rather, have the courage, guided and impelled by grace, to enter fully into the human condition.  The community founded by St. Kevin became a faith and cultural center precisely because it grew into a community of authentic humanity.  A “growth” made possible by the light of the Gospel.  The Gospel leads to true humanity; the “world” (despite loud protestations to the contrary) is what often fears the human condition.  
What do we Christian do in this age and every age?  We cling to the light of the Gospel and we allow this light to develop an authentic humanity that is clearly distinguishable from the shallowness of a worldly ethos.  The Christian monastic living in a monastery separated from the rush of the world is called to do this as well as the Christian disciple living in the non-stop movement of a major city.  The light of the Gospel leads to an authentic humanity which, in turn, creates a human space where life can be found and true friendship can be encountered.
Today, we each need to be a “St. Kevin” – trusting in the light of the Gospel and living an authentic humanity.            

Anniversary of ordination and some lessons learned

On June 3, 1995 I was ordained a Roman Catholic priest.  These years have been and continue to be an amazing adventure!  Over these years I have been confessor, teacher, parochial vicar, pastor, youth ministry director, vocation and seminarian director, university chaplain, confidant, counselor, committee chairman, pilgrim, retreat director and friend.  I have experienced people automatically putting me on an unrealistic pedestal just for being a priest as well as people scorning, ridiculing, trying to convert me and automatically assuming things about me just for being a priest.

A couple of constants throughout my ministry have been building projects and working with youth and young adults.  At my first assignment at All Saints Church in Knoxville I watched (and learned) as the multi-purpose building and rectory were built followed in short order by the church building itself.  At Knoxville Catholic High School I assisted as the community left the old school and moved to a new property across town and I had a role in the design of the school chapel.  When I arrived at St. Mary Church in Athens, TN as pastor I stepped into the design phase of the new church building project.  In the course of five years we built the new church and rectory, literally picked up and moved the classroom building to the new property and sold the old property leaving the parish debt-free.  In the course of my time at the Catholic Center at ETSU one focus I have had has been the renovation of the chapel and I can honestly say that I think it looks quite good and is a place of prayer and worship.  But, even more than the building of structures, I have worked in the building and strengthening of Christian community. 

Except for the couple of years focusing on the building needs at St. Mary Church in Athens my ministry has always had the component (if not outright focus) of working with youth and young adults.  During these years I have been in the role of parish youth minister, diocesan youth ministry director (twice), high school chaplain and teacher (now twice) and college chaplain (now twice).  My whole priesthood has been lived under the scandal of the clergy sexual abuse crisis and in a time when many priests express fear and worry of being too close to young people.  For whatever reason I have been called back again and again to this ministry and I have chosen to say “yes” and remain with our young people.  It has been a blessing.

My priesthood has been blessed, strengthened and perhaps even saved through the Community of Sant’Egidio.  In a way that I can only describe as providence I met this community and now cannot even consider my life of faith apart from the community and their strange notion that yes, lifelong friendship is possible especially friendship with the poor!  This community has helped me to name and clarify rumblings in my own soul and heart regarding the true work of the priest and the disciple of Christ.  I have seen the danger of priest solely as CEO/administrator and I do not want that.  I want to be a priest – a man whose whole life is rooted in the mystery of Christ and who lives and who acts in the ways of Christ.  The community has helped me to see that there is a different way to live priesthood and discipleship and they have helped me to recognize that Christ is indeed encountered in faithful friendship with the poor. 

Here are some things that I have learned in my years of priesthood:

It is not about me. This is freeing realization when all is said and done.  The job of “Savior of the world” has already been taken and God is bringing about his Kingdom – end of story.  I have my part to play and there is certainly work to do but the final result is not in question.  This realization allows one to enjoy where one is at and also not think too highly of oneself.  It also helps lead one into the grace of obedience and its wisdom that the world cannot understand.     

It is the basics and it is the Gospel that truly matter.  In my years as a priest I have seen and participated in a number of different programs, drives and activities … and some of them even worked!  But when all is said and done – at least in my experience – it all comes back to the basics of the Christian life: serving and loving, proclaiming the Scriptures, breaking the bread and being a community in Christ. 

To love Christ one must also love the Church.  Warts and all, Christ loves his bride, the Church.  I have a deep sorrow for those who cannot recognize this truth.   

The Gospel can never be advanced by manipulation.  Manipulation, in the name of Christianity does occur.  I have seen it.  It might get immediate results but it leaves long lasting wounds and resentment.  God’s measure of success is not the world’s measure and part of growth in faith is to learn God’s measure. 

The poor move us beyond politics.  The poor help us to get real about a lot of things and help us to get beyond the “polarizations” that so much time and energy in our world is wasted upon – not an idea of the poor nor the poor as clients or the poor as a source of service credits but the poor as friends and as brothers and sisters.
  
Be human.  No one will care how much you know until they know how much you care.  God did not disdain becoming human in every sense but sin; why should we?

Good, Better, Best.  This is a philosophy I learned from Fr. Anietie Akata.  If you come to a place or situation which is not good then work to make it good.  If it is good then work to make it better.  If it has been made better then work to make it the best.  It is a good philosophy to live by. 

The love of Christ.  Just recently while in prayer, sitting before an icon of the face of Christ, I was brought to a deeper awareness of God’s love.  It seems that the journey of faith is a journey of coming to know in ever-deeper ways this love.  God continually pours forth his love and this is truly at the heart of all creation.

I give thanks to God on this anniversary of my ordination!  God is truly good in his blessings and in his love poured forth!       

               

"Stay with us…" The Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ

“The Road to Emmaus” by Caravaggio

In the last chapter of Luke’s gospel we are given the Emmaus story.  The risen Lord joins two disciples on the road and fully reveals himself to them in the breaking of the bread whereupon he vanishes from their sight.  Prior to this, when they are still on the road and the Lord makes as if to continue on, the disciples make this request, “Stay with us, for it is toward evening and the day is now far spent.” (Lk. 24:29)

This Sunday, as the Church celebrates the Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ (or Corpus Christi), I would suggest this request of the two disciples as a way of exploring this holy mystery of the Eucharist at the heart of the life of the Church. 

Notice first of all that it is a request.  The Church does not own nor control this mystery.  We cannot command the presence of God.  At heart, all we can do is request, ask and when God is present – live in gratitude.  Earlier today I was at the ordination of Fr. Christopher Manning – the newest priest to be ordained to the Diocese of Knoxville – and in his homily, Bishop Richard Stika, spoke of the danger of seeking to control the Eucharist and form it through our thought and perception into our image rather than letting the Eucharist transform and change us.  We do not transform the Eucharist (when we attempt to do so we get into trouble both individually and even as “church”) rather the Eucharist transforms us.  When we receive the Eucharist we need to let this dynamic reality occur and we need to entrust ourselves to this movement of extraordinary grace.  The language of request acknowledges and respects this graced encounter that can never be controlled on our part.  “Stay with us…”

Secondly, notice that it implies relationship.  Our awareness of the mystery of the Eucharist grows as our relationship with Christ as Lord and Savior grows and our lived acknowledgement of Christ as Lord and Savior grows just as our humble entering into the mystery of the Eucharist increases.  Relationship is a lived reality, it is a give and take exchange.  The mystery of the Eucharist (like any relationship) cannot be “proven” from the outside. It must be entered into, in order to be encountered and experienced.  This “entering into the mystery” is not just a matter of filling a spot in a pew on Sunday either.  It is a dynamic of the heart and the heart’s willingness to enter relationship.

The breaking of the bread and Christ giving himself in the form of bread and wine occurs on the road.  The Eucharist is often referred to as “bread for the journey”.  While in this world – as individual pilgrims and as church – we are always on the journey.  We are on journey toward the Kingdom of God and beyond that which holds us bound.  The Eucharist is not prize for the victor who has won solely on his or her own abilities rather, it is food for the pilgrim on the journey, who often stumbles and who can even take wrong turns and get lost sometimes.  We need the Eucharist.  We need it’s transforming grace.

The Eucharist nourishes and refreshes us from the struggles of life.  The weariness of life can be heard in the request of the disciples who just had their hopes dashed by the cross on Calvary.  “…it is toward evening and the day is far spent.”  In a truly divine way, the Eucharist nourishes and refreshes us as we also encounter the pains and struggles of life.  The subtlety of the Eucharist is one of the great paradoxes and stumbling blocks in the eyes of the world.  In the simple receiving of what appears on the surface to be only bread and wine the very life of God is given to us and received by us!  God’s power is revealed exactly in not having to act through flash and show but rather in giving of Himself in a subtle presence.  A discerning and maturing heart begins to recognize this.  The Eucharist nourishes and opens our eyes to the ways of God. 

In his first letter to the Corinthians (1 Cor. 11:23-26), Paul recounts what he himself had received and now, what he himself, hands on.  “…that the Lord Jesus, on the night he was handed over, took bread, and, after he had given thanks, broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is for you.  Do this in remembrance of me.’  In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood.  Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.”  Before the gospels were written, before the canon of Scripture had been codified, before Christianity was legally recognized and no longer persecuted, the Eucharist was being celebrated.

The first Christians encountered the living Lord in the breaking of the bread … this same encounter continues today.                   

The Holy Trinity and the economy of self-gift

Icon of the Holy Trinity by Andrei Rublev

In reflecting on the deep and abiding mystery of the Trinity, some of the truths that we are brought to is that communion with others is always possible, that this communion is necessary and that it is free, although it does take work.  Communion is always possible because the very Creator of all is a communion of persons – eternally abiding in love and self-giving.  This should not be written off as a nice, superficial thought but rather it should be recognized for what it is – a fundamental anthropological and societal truth that does make authentic and abiding claims on life and reality.  Communion is always necessary because without it we are less.  We are not meant to live isolated lives.  Communion is free and this is much to chagrin of the market-place and the economy of consumption.     

Many voices in our time proclaim the opposite.  “Be a self-made man or woman!”  “Pull yourself up by your own bootstraps!”  “It is you against the world.”  “Fear the other and set up walls to protect and keep out!”  This thought has even found its way into the sphere of Christianity in the emphasizing of a “Jesus and I” approach to faith.  Church and community is nice but it is not really all that necessary.  Now it seems that even the acknowledgement afforded by history to the unique status and communion of marriage and family is being discarded as dynamics in contemporary society seek to reshape family more in terms of what “I want” and “my right” rather than in the life-giving reality of self-gift as laid out in the basic biological blueprint of creation itself.  All this leads to an increasingly isolated existence which plays to the benefit of an economy of consumption.

My personal theory is that we are now living in a time when it is the economy with all the pressures at its disposal attempting to shape us in its image rather than us shaping the economy in our image.  To wit – an isolated, self-focused individual trained to view reality through the prism of “I want” is potentially a much better consumer than one who is connected with other people in life-giving ways that are beyond the power of the market-place (i.e. family and individuals living authentic and honest relationships).  

The economy of consumption wants an upgrade to family and existence in general.  A “2.0 family” as it were.  Family defined by self-gift and sacrifice is no longer good enough.  Family defined by want and individuals who are increasingly isolated is now what is needed to keep the economy humming!

In the Holy Trinity we are shown a different economy – not an economy of consumption but an economy of self-gift and we find it revealed that this economy is not only at the foundation of all creation but is the source, itself, of all creation and life. 

Jesus said to his disciples: “I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now.  But when he comes, the Spirit of truth, he will guide you to all truth.  He will not speak on his own, but he will speak what he hears, and will declare to you the things that are coming.  He will glorify me, because he will take from what is mine and declare it to you.  Everything that the Father has is mine; for this reason I told you that he will take from what is mine and declare it to you.”  (Jn. 16:12-15)

Notice how the three Persons of the Trinity freely receive from one another and freely give to one another.  Notice how this gift of self does not diminish each of the Divine Persons in uniqueness but actually fulfills each of the Persons.  The Father is not lessened by the Son receiving all the Father has to offer nor are the Father and Son diminished by the Spirit taking what they offer one another and declaring it to us.  Self-gift does not need to be feared because it leads to the fulfillment of personhood and life and not to a loss of self!

St Paul in his Letter to Romans reflects on what this all means to us who have been caught up into this very mystery of God’s own existence by God’s sheer gift of grace.  Brothers and sisters: Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith to this grace in which we stand and we boast in hope of the glory of God.  Not only that, but we even boast of our afflictions, know that affliction produces endurance, and endurance, proven character, and proven character, hope, and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us. (Rom. 5:1-5) 

As Christians, we strive for the truth of being, even when we fail individually and communally we still strive by God’s grace.  The economy of consumption is not our economy.  We are meant for so much more!  Peace … Endurance … Proven Character … Hope … Love of God.  

These are all the gifts of the economy of self-gift.  
Not a bad list, when you think about it.    


             

Feast of the Ascension: God in the "in betweens"

It has been said that as Christians we are always, “aliens in a foreign land.”  We might look the same as others, we might talk the same, we might act the same but as Christians we are never fully at home in this world.  Our souls will always be, in this life, to some extent or another, “restless”.  At some level we know that our true home still awaits us.  As Christians we do not disdain the world nor do we see it as evil.  The opposite, in fact, is the case – we value the world, we marvel at its beauty but we view it within the fuller horizon of the love, truth and hope that we have come to know in Jesus Christ.  What we have come to know in Christ affects everything – even how we judge our place in the world.
This must have been especially true for those first disciples.  They knew Christ.  They had spent time with him.  They experienced the resurrection.  And now, we are told, they watched him ascend into heaven but things are now different – they cannot go back to the way it was before – it can never be the same.  As Christ ascends, they stand in between the earthly ministry and presence of Jesus and the promised fullness of the Kingdom.
“Men of Galilee, why are you standing there looking up at the sky?”  In other words, the angels are reminding the disciples even as they stand in between, “Remember, you are in this world and there is work to be done,” but, they also say, “This Jesus who has been taken up from you … will return in the same way…” but, “keep your eyes on heaven.”  As Christians we live with our feet planted in the world but our eyes on heaven.  Right now (like those first disciples) we live “in between”.
As humans, we are not all that good about living “in between” – we like to be either here or there but one of the gifts of the days of Ascension – the time between Christ ascending to heaven and the coming of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost is to teach and help us recognize that God is present even in the “in between” moments of life.
All lives have moments of “in between”.  The announcement of pregnancy to the birth of a child, the ending of one career to the beginning of the next, graduating from college and preparing to either enter the job market or to move forward to graduate school, the moving from one place and culture to another, the pain of losing a loved one to the acceptance of memory and hope, even the pronouncement of a terminal illness to the point of death – these are all moments when we stand “in between.”  Life is full of “in between” times.
Let us not assume that God is not present in the “in between” moments of life.  Even if we cannot go back, even if things are different – God is still present.  We have experienced the fullness of truth and love in Jesus Christ.  God will remain with us even to the end of the ages and through all the in betweens.  As Christians we live with our feet in this world and our eyes turned toward heaven.

Friendship: Sixth Sunday of Easter

“The Trinity” by Andrei Rublev.  A meditation on friendship. 

Where does friendship begin?  It is a question worthy of reflecting upon.  When we look at the friendships within our lives, where and when did they start?  Did the friendships begin all at once in an instant, almost like a thunderclap, or did the friendships we have gradually develop and grow over time, even to the point where we might not remember exactly when a friendship began?  I think that the latter of these two is the nature of true friendship.  Friendship grows over time and it grows through daily encounter and interaction. 

As Christians we believe in the friendship of God – not because we have loved God first but because God has first chosen to love us.  The readings for this sixth Sunday of Easter can be read in the terms of friendship (Acts 15:1-2, 22-29, Rev. 21:10-14, 22-23 and Jn. 14:23-29). 

In today’s gospel we find our Lord saying, “Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him…”  In his book, The Priority of Christ, Fr. Robert Barron takes some effort to explore what the doctrine of Christ as fully human and fully God has to say about the very nature of God.  Fr. Barron begins by exploring the very common fallacy of viewing God as just the “biggest” of beings.  He points out that if this were the case then God would still just be a being among other beings and therefore if God is just another being then God’s will necessarily inhibits and limits my freedom and my very being.  Nothing is further from the truth and this is demonstrated in the reality of Christ being fully God and fully human because in Christ we find humanity fully realized and not inhibited in the presence of full divinity.  God is not the biggest being among other beings who will necessarily limit my freedom by his presence; God is “otherly other” – to quote one early Church Father.  God operates in a way that we cannot fully grasp because we are limited beings.  God does not need to compete as we do.

“Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him…”  Christ is offering the terms of a friendship that is truly non-competitive in nature.  This is the amazing promise of Christ.  To the one who strives to keep the word of Christ; God will come and make his dwelling with him or her.  “Dwelling” is a neat word here.  It is not heavy.  It does not oppress.  It is a place of life and home.  The presence of God does not limit nor oppress because God is otherly other.  God can be fully present to us in our lives in a non-competitive manner and in a way that fulfills the human person.  Keeping God’s word leads to true life. 

Our Lord continues this invitation to a non-competitive friendship with the promise of the coming of the Holy Spirit.  “I have told you this while I am with you.  The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you.  Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.”  Christ can promise and give a peace that moves beyond the limits of this world precisely because Christ in the fullness of his divinity and humanity is otherly other.  Christ can enter into your life and my life in a truly non-competitive way.  God as Father, Son and Holy Spirit does not come to limit life but to give life and to give peace.

In today’s second reading from the Book of Revelation we are given the image of the new and heavenly Jerusalem.  It has been noted that in the Old Testament there can be seen a progression in regards to the presence of God.  First, God is present for his people in the meeting tent.  Second, God is present in the temple then God is present in Jerusalem.  In the New Testament, God becomes present within the human heart, “…and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him…”.  John writes of his vision, “I saw no temple in the city for its temple is the Lord God almighty and the Lamb.  The city had no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gave it light, and its lamp was the Lamb.”  There is no need of temple or church in the heavenly Jerusalem because the presence of God is fully realized and welcomed within each human heart.  This welcoming begins today and it is found in the daily invitation to encounter our Lord as he makes himself present to us. 

In the first reading from Acts we find the early Church deliberating about its mission to the Gentiles and how this is to occur and even “if” it should occur.  This is no small thing.  In fact, it is at the heart of the mission of the Church and it, in many ways, is a question about friendship.  Can the friendship with God that we now know through Christ be extended and should it be extended to others?  The Church, guided by the Spirit, comes to the decision that yes, friendship should be extended and friendship is always possible.  This mission continues today and it is primarily an invitation to friendship.  The love that we have heard and seen and touched is a love that, by its very nature, must be extended to others.  As Church, we proclaim that friendship is always possible and we make this proclamation in a time that continually seeks to isolate and divide people from one another.  The Church’s witness of the possibility of friendship is truly counter-cultural in our day and age and it is truly needed.

“Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him…”                     

"Behold, I make all things new." Fifth Sunday of Easter (C)

“Behold, I make all things new.”  Scene from The Passion of the Christ.

In this Sunday’s second reading from the Book of Revelation (Rev. 21:1-5a), John shares the vision of seeing a “new heaven” and a “new earth” with “the holy city, a new Jerusalem”.  As John writes, The former heaven and the former earth had passed away…  John then hears the One sitting on the throne proclaim, “Behold, I make all things new.”

In our gospel reading (Jn. 13:31-33a, 34-35), at the Last Supper after our Lord had just washed the feet of his disciples – showing by action what he is to now proclaim in word – Jesus says, I give you a new commandment: love one another. 

By holding these passages together – letting them inform one another – I think that we can say that the new heaven, the new earth and the new Jerusalem are intrinsically linked to the new commandment that is given to us.  God has chosen to “make all things new” precisely through the love revealed in Jesus Christ.  God does not choose force or fear or power or might to accomplish his purpose rather, God chooses loves because, as Scripture says, God is love. 

It is helpful to note that Jesus reveals this new commandment only after Judas had left.  Judas had made up his mind to betray the Lord.  Judas had chosen to remain captive to the sad logic of this world that chooses to only see things in terms of conflict, division, power and isolation.  Judas could not take in the truth of God’s way and of the very nature of God that our Lord reveals.  Judas was blind.  The sad logic of our world continues to remain blind and cynical to the ever newness and possibility of God’s love.  “Life is ever the same, look only to your own needs, nothing can ever be different.”  This is the sad logic of our world.  In the resurrection, the risen Lord breaks this sad logic just as surely as he breaks the chains of sin and death.

We must realize that this commandment of love is not of our origin nor our making.  On our own we cannot arrive at it.  On our own we cannot even dream of it or imagine it.  This new commandment of love comes from Christ and is in fact, Christ.  Christ present in our lives calls us to an ever new awareness and an ever new living of love.  I give you a new commandment: love one another.  As I have loved you, so you also should love one another.  The truth of these words need to sink into the depths of our hearts: as Christ has loved us … as Christ has loved us … as Christ has loved us … we should love one another.

Fr. Robert Barron begins his series on the Seven Deadly Sins and the Seven Lively Virtues by highlighting a profound spiritual truth.  The truth is this: we are not necessary.  We do not have to be.  The world and creation existed before we came on the scene and it will continue after we have exited the scene.  We are not necessary nor, in fact, is all of creation.  It is only when we wrestle and grapple with this profound and sobering truth that we come to recognize that the one necessary is God himself and everything else is contingent upon God.  The good news?  The new commandment?  God is love.  We are here, all of creation is here, only through the continual and generous outpouring of God’s love.  When we recognize this and are able to step away from the isolation of the self-absorbed ego then we can live in and even be a conduit of God’s own love.   

The more we love one another as Christ has loved us, the more we participate in the very newness of God’s love which overcomes death, sin and the sad logic of our world.  This is why the gospel can proclaim “blessed” those persecuted, mocked and derided for their faith in Christ because it is in the very face of the sad logic of this world that we are afforded the opportunity to love as Christ himself loves and that we ourselves can therefore participate in the very life of God who alone is necessary. 

St. Thomas Aquinas defined love as “willing the good of the other”.  There is a lot to this definition that can be fleshed out in a variety of ways but here I just want to highlight a couple of truths.  God in Christ has and continues to fully love us.  God, in Christ, wills our good.  God did not have to come to us when we were lost in sin and death but because God is love, God willed our good.  God came to us and took on the weight of sin and death.  Love is willing the good of the other. 

Here is the other truth.  When God wills it is accomplished.  We are not God, we are creatures.  We are not necessary.  When we love, when we will the good of the other, that does not necessarily mean it will come to be but this is okay because whenever we will the good of the other in whatever way or shape or form then we ourselves are participating in that very movement of the newness of God’s love.  I offer this because we all often hear one another say, “My spouse, my child, my friend, my sister, my brother is making really bad choices.  I love him or her but he or she does not change no matter how I try to help.”  “There is so much pain and hurt in the world.  I will try to do my part to help but what good does it really do?”  It is not on us to accomplish (that is God’s part).  “Behold, I make all things new.” proclaims the One sitting upon the throne.  It is only on us to will the good.  When we love, when we will the good of the other, no matter how small and insignificant it might seem, then we are participating in the ever newness of God’s love and we are moving beyond the sad logic of our world.

At the end of her life, when my mother’s body had pretty much given out on her, my mom could not do much but one thing she could do was watch the finches come to the bird feeder at her window.   When the feeder ran out she would remind me to fill it with new seed.  In her own little way, my mother was loving and willing the good of those little birds and God’s creation.  At the very end of her life, she was making the choice to participate in the ever newness of God’s love and not be bound by the sad logic of sin and death. 

The Lord said, I give you a new commandment: love one another.  

John heard the One sitting on the throne say, Behold, I make all things new.     

       

   

   

The Good Shepherd, Practical Atheism and Authenticity

Icon of Christ the Good Shepherd

Pope emeritus Benedict often remarked that he thought it was not so much atheists who damage the Christian faith as it is the “practical atheists” who do the real damage.  The “practical atheists” are those who profess themselves Christians but who then live as if God does not exist.  At the heart of this practical atheism which is very present in our day and also very easy to fall into is an in-authenticity of relationship.  We say one thing yet we do another and we convince ourselves that no one is the wiser; including God.

Today is Good Shepherd Sunday when we, as Church, reflect on the truth that the risen Lord is indeed the good and beautiful shepherd who came to seek out and save the lost.  But here is the rub: we cannot reflect and proclaim the Lord as Good Shepherd and ourselves remain in-authentic in relation to him.  To proclaim Christ as the Good Shepherd demands an authenticity of relationship on our part.  This authenticity of relationship is witnessed to us in today’s gospel (Jn. 10:27-30) – the relationship of us and the Lord and the relationship of the Son and the Father.

Jesus said: “My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me…”  The movement of authentic relationship begins with our Lord.  When we were lost in the darkness of sin and death, God came to us.  God became incarnate and took on the full weakness and suffering of humanity.  God took on everything except sin.  “I know them…”, says the Lord.  Christ can authentically say this because it is true.

“My sheep hear my voice … and they follow me …”  There are two parts for authenticity of relationship on our part.  One, we hear the voice of the Good Shepherd and two, we follow.  To say we hear the voice and then live as if the voice does not matter is not authentic.  To proclaim Christ as the Good Shepherd means we must continually “tune” our ears to the voice of the Good Shepherd, we must trust and we must follow.

This gospel passage also reveals the wonderful authenticity that makes up the relationship of the Father and the Son.  Christ (in reflecting on the deep and abiding security of the sheep entrusted to his care) says, No one can take them out of my hand.  My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one can them out of the Father’s hand.  The Father and I are one.  Our Lord, as Son, is expressing his gratitude for what the Father has freely given him.  Authenticity of relationship finds its fullest expression in gratitude for what is freely given rather than in using the other for ones own need.  Here, I think, is found another subtle yet withering aspect of practical atheism and it is found more in those persons “in” church rather than those persons “outside” church.  God is used as a means for my personal satisfaction and this becomes the only reason that I turn to God.  There are tell-tale signs to this in-authenticity on our part: going to church is more about social status than conversion, worship is more about getting my emotional hit than it is about my coming before the living God and gratitude of heart gives way to demand and fear.

This brings us to the great gift gained through the authenticity of relationship with the Good Shepherd and it is a gift that cannot be pretended.  Either it is there or it is not.  When we live in relationship with the Good Shepherd we gain hope and we gain trust.  I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish.  No one can take them out of my hand.  In-authenticity of relationship, practical atheism cannot give this, no matter how hard it pretends that it can.  As Scripture tells us; a tree is known by its fruits.

We must let these words sink into the soil of our hearts, break apart any hardness that remains there and till the earth that hope and trust may take root and grow!  These words are spoken by the one who has risen, the one who has conquered the tomb and the chains of death!  I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish.  No one can take them out of my hand.  

Facebook users are probably familiar with the “Go home, you’re drunk” memes.  In this meme there is a picture of someone saying or doing something stupid with the caption, “___________, go home.  You’re drunk.”  If there were a meme for this Good Shepherd Sunday I think it would be a practical atheist saying, “Oh, I am a Christian but I live as I wish.” and the response would be, “Practical Atheist, go home.  You’re drunk.”                         

Peter accepts love: Third Sunday of Easter (C)

“The Disciples Peter and John Running to the Sepulchre on the Morning of the Resurrection” by Eugene Burnand

Recently I was asked to list some good books written by Catholic authors.  The names that immediately came to my mind were Georges Bernanos, Flannery O’Connor, Shusaku Endo and Graham Greene.  Each of these authors wrote fiction and each one in his or her own way courageously delved into the psychology of sin, grace and faith.  These authors did not seek to present faith in simplistic black and white categories and neither did they need to explain away the struggles and doubts of life.  Rather, each author was able to present the reality of grace found within the very struggles, doubts and even times of darkness that can comprise moments in life that we all experience. 

In many ways, their writings mirror the very gospel passage that we are given this third Sunday of Easter (Jn. 21:1-19).  In this resurrection appearance we are told that Peter and six other disciples went fishing on a boat in the Sea of Tiberias.  Seven disciples in a boat – a concise symbol of the Church.  It was night.  Christ has not yet appeared to them.  They were relying on their own self-sufficiency and their own ability to catch the fish but (we are told), they caught nothing.  When we rely solely on ourselves then we remain in the darkness of night and we catch nothing, the work is futile. 

When it was already dawn … Jesus was seen standing on the shore, yet not recognized.  Whenever Christ comes to us the darkness already begins to flee.  It is helpful to note that Christ does not need to consult our calendars.  Christ comes to us when he so chooses and it is in that moment that the dawn begins to break. 

Probably with a bit of a smile and fully aware of his disciples’ exercise in futility the risen Lord slyly asks, Children … have you caught anything to eat?  No, they admit and then upon his instruction they cast their nets again and make a great haul of fish. 

John, the disciple whom Jesus loved, is the first to realize it is the Lord.  John was the one who leaned his head on the breast of the Lord at the last supper, John was the one who stood by the cross of the Lord and did not run away.  John is the one whose heart is attuned and attentive to the beating heart of the risen Lord.  Yet, John did not hide within his realization, only to enjoy it for himself, rather he turned in respect to Peter – the “rock”, the one on whom the Lord said he would build his Church – and said, It is the Lord.

Peter, continually surprising – ancient, yet always surprising – in his eagerness and love for the Lord jumps out of the boat and into the water and swims to shore!  The Lord feeds his friends and then he has this wonderful exchange with Peter.  Three times, the Lord asks Peter; do you love me?  Three times Peter responds “yes” and the Lord instructs him to feed and tend his sheep. 

Why did the Lord give this command and why specifically did he entrust Peter with this task?  Peter had denied the Lord, Peter had run away and now the Lord is entrusting his very flock to this man?  What had changed?  What had changed is that now Peter had accepted love.  Where before he had relied on his own strength of faith – Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death. (Lk. 22:33) – now Peter, after his denial, can only hold on to the love of the Lord.  Peter’s heart, healed by the light of Easter, had come to truly understand and grasp the words of that beautiful Lenten hymn; What wondrous love is this?  Peter had accepted the love of the risen Lord and now Christ says to him; feed my sheep

The Gospel does not need to explain away the weakness of the human heart nor the struggles and doubts of life.  Rather, the Gospel proclaims the amazing truth that grace has entered into our very human and limited and sinful reality.  The Lord is risen!  He does not deny our humanity, rather he fulfills it through love and friendship! 

The "New Space" of Easter: Second Sunday of Easter (C)

“Doubting Thomas” by Carl Heinrich Bloch

Easter creates a new space and a new moment of encounter.  No longer are we left abandoned (orphans) in the losses and sorrow of life.  The Lord is risen!  God abandons no one and neither is God resigned to accept death and lose as the final answer.  The risen Lord comes to his friends hiding behind the locked doors of fear, resignation and sorrow.  The risen Lord shows them his wounds and by so doing heals their wounds and gives a peace that the world cannot give.  It is only though the resurrection that the very wounds and losses of life become places of encounter rather than abandonment.  This is the new space and the new moment of encounter created by Easter.  We can now meet God in our wounds because God has become wounded and even accepted death for our sake.  And God has overcome death!  “Peace be with you,” says the risen Lord to his disciples in today’s gospel (Jn. 20:19-31).  When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side.

Thomas, we are told, was not there at that first encounter with the risen Lord.  Thomas would not believe.  “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nailmarks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”  Thomas was not a bad man nor was he a mediocre disciple.  Thomas was honest.  He was hurting.  His love for Christ and his hope in Christ had been crushed by the sheer violence and weight of the cross and the tomb.  He was resigned to the belief that death and violence were, in fact, the final answer in this world.  Thomas had loved the Lord yet now, seemingly, that love was lost.  Thomas was left wounded – his heart hurting and hardening.

How often we are like Thomas.  We are not bad people nor are we necessarily mediocre disciples yet the wounds of life occur and resignation sets in.  We sincerely proclaim ourselves Christian yet we hold on to that, “Unless I see…” of a hurting and hardening heart.  We seek to be good people, we strive to do right by others, we do honestly love and care yet wounds come and in differing ways we begin to lock ourselves behind closed doors and we begin to accept the resignation of our world.  We might proclaim Christ yet we find it easy to live as if Easter never occurred.

Today, on this Divine Mercy Sunday, the Gospel proclaims to us that God does not abandon!  Death, violence and resignation are not the final answer!  New life is possible!  Live in the joy and truth of Easter and shake off the false logic of our world!  The mercy received through Easter is not a mercy meant to kept locked away indoors.  Divine Mercy is a mercy meant to transform the world, beginning with us.  We begin to be transformed when we begin to not be resigned.

Our Lord says to Thomas, “Peace be with you … Put your finger here and see my hands, and bring your hand and put it into my side, and do not be unbelieving but believe.”  

“…do not be unbelieving but believe.”

Thomas responds, “My Lord and my God!”