Feast of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Lectionary: 572

Mary set out and traveled to the hill country in haste to a town of Judah, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth.

I have to suppose that Saint Luke finds enormous and joyful irony in his story of Mary's visit to her kinswoman Elizabeth. Neither a young woman nor an old woman can represent women at their most powerful; and -- at their most powerful -- women had little real influence in first century Palestine. A very capable woman who happens to be the mother or husband of an influential man might have made a difference if she played her hand well, provided not too many people noticed. 

But a maiden and a barren old woman, the wife of an aging priest? 

They're nobody except in God's eyes and in God's plan. These women greet one another with great joy because they know something procurators, kings and emperors cannot imagine and would not believe if they heard of it. 

The great work of Saint Luke will end with the same touch of irony, when Saint Paul arrives in Rome, a prisoner in chains. The captive Cleopatra was greeted with more aplomb than God's emissary Paul! 

But the Good News which was first announced to Mary and Elizabeth had to be announced to the whole world, beginning in Jerusalem and heading for Rome.  

There was a time when the Church had great worldly influence. During the reign of Pope Innocent II, the papacy and episcopacy had enormous political, economic, social and academic power. Many Catholics still long for that lost past. But the wise Innocent II clearly saw the corruption of the Church and that it might soon collapse. That was why he welcomed Franciscans, Dominicans and several other mendicant communities to carry their message throughout the world despite the opposition of bishops and clergy. These men and women, disavowing ownership, had to remind Christians that their King reigns from a tree; his throne is a cross. 

In this twenty-first century, the widespread acceptance of contraceptives, abortion, divorce, and gay marriage reminds the Church of our limited influence. We might wish for a return to the past when Catholics and Protestants could feud over whether Jesus had brothers and sisters and how many "books" are in the Bible. That nostalgia ignores the racism that spawned midnight lynchings and the systematic annihilation of Native Americans. 

Responding to the present moment, we rejoice with Mary and Elizabeth that the Lord and his prophetic Spirit move among us. We are here; we're not going away. We matter, and we make a difference. 

Thursday of the Sixth Week of Easter

Lectionary: 294​

Amen, amen, I say to you, you will weep and mourn, while the world rejoices; you will grieve, but your grief will become joy."

I heard a radio discussion recently concerning the status of Christians in the United States. The participants were mostly "Evangelical" and the discussion centered around their political and social beliefs. They were responding to remarks of Vice President Mike Pence to a graduating class at a Christian college. He had encouraged the young people to expect opposition and to act courageously in the practice of their faith.

Is that the attitude Christians should take, the panel wondered.

Not invited to contribute to the conversation, I get to air my opinions here.

I intend with this blog to remind Christian Catholics that we are a people peculiar to the Lord. Our faith with its traditions and practices sets us apart from other Americans. Jesus describes that difference in many ways; today he reminds us, "You will weep and mourn while the world rejoices...."

Sometimes the dominant culture thinks they are celebrating with us. As at Easter, when they pull out the Easter bunnies and colored eggs; we go to church and sing hymns of resurrection. In December, anticipating Christmas, they shop till they drop; we wait in silence, wait in hope.

Many Christians have suppose the United States is, or should be, a Christian nation. Or maybe, it used to be but isn't anymore. At one time, Catholicism heartily agreed with that belief; and went farther, believing every nation should be a Catholic country. (Much to the consternation of our Protestant brothers and sisters.)

With the Second Vatican Council, that policy changed. We recognize that we are and should be a minority. Priests do not make good politicians, preachers are worse. But Christians should be a vocal minority, announcing our beliefs and urging public policy to honor human dignity in all its forms.  Whether this is a Christian, Muslim or Buddhist country, matters not. Wherever we go, we make ourselves at home, our presence felt, and our charity welcome.

Wednesday of the Sixth Week of Easter

Lectionary: 293

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."

The readings of Easter, from the Acts of the Apostles and the Gospel of Saint John, invite us to reflect deeply on the Spirit of God who lives and moves in our hearts. In the Holy Spirit we encounter this mystery we call "Trinity": the Father who surrenders all authority in heaven and earth to his Son, the Son who is poured out in love for us, and the Spirit who directs our life and love to God the Father. We would dismiss such religious abstractions if we had not seen the acts of the apostles as described in Saint Luke's sequel.

We might dismiss these revelations also, if we did not encounter them in our daily and weekly Eucharist. The Lord Jesus invites us; the Spirit gathers us, and God the Father receives us into the sanctuary.

I celebrate Mass five days a week in the VA hospital. The Mass is televised to the patients while I rely on devout hospital staff to join me in the chapel. On Sunday, I hope someone from the area might appear and the Holy Spirit invariably provides. One time, a year or two ago, only one man came, my cousin. He's not a Veteran. He had, several weeks before, stayed close to a Veteran friend as he died in the hospital. On that particular Sunday, for no particular reason that he could think of, he decided to drive across town to attend Mass here, rather than his regular parish.

It could only be the Holy Spirit.

Some people call incidents like this "serendipity." They suspect more than chance or coincidence. Invented by an author of fiction, the word suggests a lurking intentionality. (Obviously, in "The Three Princes of Serendip" the intention was in the mind of Horace Walpole.)

In the real world, the Christian recognizes the providential hand of God guiding human events.  With our daily prayer and meditation we ask the Lord to guide our thoughts, impulses, intuitions and plans. Sometimes we're in the right place at the right moment and some grace appears. No one can claim this blessing as a personal achievement. It is God's mercy. There is freedom in this way of life as we let ourselves be guided.

Nothing worth doing can be done in one lifetime, but in God's time and impelled by God's spirit, many wonderful things happen.

Tuesday of the Sixth Week of Easter

Lectionary: 292

But I tell you the truth, it is better for you that I go. For if I do not go, the  Advocate will not come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you. And when he comes he will convict the world in regard to sin and righteousness and condemnation....

In today's gospel the Lord speaks of what must happen. First, he must go. Although this passage is placed in John 16, before the Lord's passion and death, it has the feel of "post-Resurrection." And the Church offers it to us in this sixth week after Easter. So it has both meanings: he must die on the cross and he must go to the Father. His being raised on the cross is his ascension, as he is "lifted up." All these different words, meaning pretty much the same thing, whirl around this mystery of his going.

And yet no one dares to ask, "Where are you going?"

Perhaps they're down there by that river in Egypt, da-nile. They can't and won't hear what he is saying; they act as if he didn't say it.

But Jesus presses through their denial, "...if I do not go, the Advocate will not come to you."

This must happen. There is no salvation if the Advocate does not come.

Skeptical critics have sometimes mocked Christian belief, "If he is risen where is he? Why can't we see him?"

The idea of Jesus popping up from time to time, in various places, attending prayer meetings, board meetings, synods and councils, acting like the chairman of every parish council and committee -- is absurd. Of course he is dead. He died on the cross. We saw it, we witnessed it.

If he had not died there would be no salvation, and no Advocate to guide us.

What must happen is also the conviction of the world in regard to sin and righteousness and condemnation. With the death of Jesus every evil act is exposed, judged and condemned. Contemplating the cross we realize how deep sin runs in our hearts. It lurks everywhere in our institutions, infrastructure, education, leisure, customs, and language. No human institution is free of sin. Our economies -- capitalist, communist, slave, and free -- are steeped in sin. Americans might like to point to the American Constitution as a sacred document until we see the injustices of slavery inscribed there. Others will point to the Bible but sinful institutions have been built out of traditional readings of the Bible, from slavery to spousal abuse. All that evil -- that "original sin" -- leads like a highway to hell, to the inexorable killing of our Savior.

As Jesus takes up his cross and insistently invites each of us to take up the cross and carry it daily, we see more clearly, It is necessary; "it is better that I go." There is no other way to purify human life. There is no simpler, quicker, less painful way to redirect all human effort toward salvation.

Monday of the Sixth Week of Easter

Lectionary: 291​

They will do this because they have not known either the Father or me.

I have told you this so that when their hour comes 

you may remember that I told you."

Readers of the Fourth Gospel should understand this document is written for us. The Evangelist did not expect or intend that everyone should read it. As he explains in the nineteenth chapter:

An eyewitness has testified, and his testimony is true; he knows that he is speaking the truth, so that you also may [come to] believe.

He restates the principle in the twenty-first chapter: 

But these are written that you may [come to] believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through this belief you may have life in his name.

There are many compelling stories and persuasive arguments in the Gospel for those who believe. But if you bring a multicultural ambivalence to the reading; or you read as if you might be open to disbelief; or for your neighbor who doesn't believe; or, finally, if you prefer that the Holy Spirit should not open your heart and mind to the Father who speaks through the Word Made Flesh, your reading Saint John's Gospel is like peering into deep water on a rainy day. Nothing appears. 

The Gospel of Saint John tells us who we are. We are those who are baptized in the water flowing from his pierced side. We eat his flesh and drink his blood. We are the disciple whom he loved, who reclined with the Lord during his Last Supper and put our head to his breast. We took his Mother into our home at his explicit command. We receive the Holy Spirit as he handed it over​ with his dying breath. We believed he had been raised when we saw nothing but an empty tomb. We are not unbelieving but believe.

In today's gospel, the Lord speaks directly to us about them. They know neither the Father nor the Son. They are suspicious and hostile of anything unfamiliar to them, and Jesus is more than a little unfamiliar. 

They are unbelievers; they are not attached to the Vine, they have no life within them. They have no idea where he came from; they cannot imagine where he is going; much less where he is taking us. 

Twenty centuries later, the faithful who read the Gospel of John might not experience daily the same hostility or incomprehension from those who do not believe in Jesus. We might even discover their friendly sympathy, as they suppose we are not really different from them. We dress the same, speak the same language, use the same money, and work in ordinary occupations. Our fidelity to the Word of God might not be shining as if in a dark place. 

Nor should we entertain the Christian wariness that the Gospel seems to suggest. We regard non-believers and Jews with friendly eyes and open hearts despite the attitude we find in Saint John. 

But, that being said, we should never surrender the privileged place of the Beloved Disciple. We cling to the Lord and his Mother, following doggedly in their footsteps toward Calvary even as others fall behind. We cannot answer for them, their attitudes or behavior. We can only watch, listen and wait; and then tell others what we have seen and heard. 

Sixth Sunday of Easter

Lectionary: 57

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.

Not as the world gives do I give it to you.

Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.

Several years ago, I hired a fellow to clean the church hall. We had tried to rent the hall to families and other groups and, despite the deposit that would not be refunded unless they cleaned up after themselves, they left a mess. So I raised the refundable amount and hired a custodian.

He was a good man and grateful for employment, but kind of simple. He complained a lot about the people who didn't clean up after themselves.

"But," I told him, "you'd have no job if they cleaned up!"

Christians should not be surprised that there is trouble in the world. That's why the Lord sent us.

The question is sometimes raised on a higher philosophical plane, "Why does a Good, Omnipotent, Omniscient God allow bad things to happen to good people?"

What kind of question is that?

Of course there is trouble. Always was, always will be.

Easter celebrates Jesus' victory over sin and death. No sin or death? No victory!

And what would we celebrate then?

"Your brother has come home! We have to celebrate!"

Why celebrate the sunrise in the morning unless the night is long and painful?

Christian contemplation looks at glorious mornings and spectacular sunsets. We also ponder natural catastrophes, incurable disease, intractable political problems, and reckless senseless violence. Aghast, we look at these horrors with open minds and hearts and ask, "Where are you, God?"

Invariably, as we wait, the Spirit of God comes to us, bringing assurance, courage and guidance. Despite our helplessness we act.

The Lord is there in our waiting and asking, in our patience and impatience, in our helplessness and our action.

The Lord is there in the peace he left with us; in the peace we bring to our friends, neighbors, opponents and enemies.

Those who act in the Spirit of Jesus are not troubled or afraid.

Saturday of the Fifth Week of Easter

Lectionary: 290

"If the world hates you, realize that it hated me first.
If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own;
but because you do not belong to the world,
and I have chosen you out of the world,
the world hates you.


Christians today live in a polarized society and are found in all the camps of the political spectrum from alt-right to left-whatever. Perhaps we should be grateful for that. They're not coming after us! As some wit has asked, "If you were indicted for being a Christian would there be enough evidence to convict you?" 
In many cases the polarization is driven by Christian principles. Pro-lifers can point to the roots of their movement in the Judaeo-Christian tradition with as much conviction as feminists who celebrate the remarkable women of the Bible and our Christian heritage. The gun controversy revolves around principles of personal freedom versus the rights of the community; no Christian could impugn either. 
It's hard to say right now what the world -- as Saint John's Gospel uses the expression -- means. Nor can we declare with much conviction, "The Church says this about that moral issue!" 
Whenever a Veteran in the hospital broaches controversial issues  I head for the hallway. If they're well enough to argue politics they don't need to be in the hospital. 
But we bring some things to the discussion: 

1. Our respect for complex issues that will not be resolved in the foreseeable future;
2. Our respect for the suffering souls who are wrought about these matters; 
3. Our compassion for the victims of an unjust, violent society; and
4. Our prayerful confidence that God is still in charge.  

Friday of the Fifth Week of Easter

Lectionary: 289

Since we have heard that some of our number who went out without any mandate from us have upset you with their teachings and disturbed your peace of mind, we have with one accord decided to choose representatives and to send them to you along with our beloved Barnabas and Paul, who have dedicated their lives to the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.

The Acts of the Apostles records not only the deeds of some of the earliest missionaries of the Church, it also records some acta, that is the recorded decisions of their first formal assembly since Pentecost. Or, the first we know of. The disciples must have gathered often for prayer and mutual support, and they often discussed how they should carry the Gospel to neighboring cities, and who should do it. Clearly, the risen Lord had sent them "to the ends of the earth."
But when a problem arose in Antioch, some misunderstandings about the Gospel, the most distinguished members of the Church decided to send an official letter with authorized delegates to clear up the matter. The Spirit directed them to do so and they were not going to leave it up to "the spirit" that troubled the distressed Christians in Antioch.
A lot of people today think they should not have done so. Who were they to say what Christians should think? Wasn't there clear guidance in the Bible?
Well, no. The Church had not yet written much of the New Testament, and would not agree upon its final form for another three hundred years. In fact, the Council of Trent (1545-1563), responding to the Reformation, formally, once-and-for-all canonized the the "Catholic Bible."
But shouldn't the Spirit of Jesus be trusted to lead them in the right teaching? There's a good argument for multiculturalism in the Church, a spirit which welcomes every language and culture to bring their history and customs to the family of the Church.
But bad teachings can be dangerous. I think everyone would agree there are bad religious ideas, but few would agree their ideas are bad and should be corrected. 
I recently finished reading Elaine Pagels' latest book, Why Religion?. It's an autobiographical account of the grief she suffered at the death of a child and her husband, and the consolation she found through her research of ancient religions. Dr. Pagel's became famous for her book, The Gnostic Gospels, published in 1979. In that book she claimed that the early church fathers had intentionally suppressed the feminist teachings of Jesus, teaching which the less patriarchal Gnostics supported.
When I read her first book, I had many reservations about her reading of these texts. They were apparently written in Greek but she had translated into English the Coptic versions, and sprinkled her selections with many ellipses.
Catholic scholars, by and large, agree that these ancient texts were not important at the time (the second through fourth centuries) and are still not important today.
But Gnosticism persists as a heretical gadfly to the Church, as Dr Pagels shows by her paean to the Gospel of Thomas. While I would not deny her the comfort she found through research and prayer, the idea that Saint Paul and other Christians whispered a secret gospel to their closest friends, a secret which is hinted at but not revealed in the New Testament, is nonsense.
Part of the problem with gnosticism: it's not a religion; it's a spiritual theory. And Dr. Pagels fails to answer her own question, "Why religion?" as she promotes a long discredited account of Jesus. She follows the path of her agnostic father, refusing to join a church while finding solace among select, elite friends. She rejects the society, traditions, and doctrines of every Christian church and formulates her own Sheilaism​, a poetry which might comfort the sorrowful.
Fortunately, the Magisterium of the Church has never forgotten the dangers of Gnosticism and periodically reminds the rest of us of those dangers. In his encyclical, Gaudete et Exultate, published even as Dr Pagels was writing, Pope Francis wrote:

Gnosticism presumes “a purely subjective faith whose only interest is a certain experience or a set of ideas and bits of information which are meant to console and enlighten, but which ultimately keep one imprisoned in his or her own thoughts and feelings”. (Paragraph 36)

If Christianity was ever a cult, it rapidly evolved into a religion. The difference? Religions don't get to choose who belongs and who don't. When I join a church I have to accept all its members, including those I don't like, those who don't like me and those I would not want to meet in a dark alley. As a member of the Church, I may accept the condolences of my friends and of strangers, even those who mean well when they say it badly. Nor do I get to choose the doctrines I agree with, and reject those I don't agree with. As a Catholic I must study all the doctrines and try to understand why they're important. 

If there are some teachings that I suspect should be forgotten in the dusty archives of old ideas -- and there are some -- I can remain in the Church and let the Spirit of God sort it out -- in God's time. It is, after all, God's church.

Thursday of the Fifth Week of Easter

Lectionary: 288

As the Father loves me, so I also love you. 

Remain in my love. 

If you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love, 

just as I have kept my Father's commandments 

and remain in his love. 

Given the chaotic history of the ancient near-east, with its political and military turmoil, periodic natural catastrophes, and continual migrations, "the law" seemed like a gift of God. The fact that strangers of different races, ethnicities and languages could meet and deal and agree with one another despite their differences -- and do it with pleasure! -- could only be divine inspiration!

Artisans in search of work, scholars looking for pupils, mercenaries looking for war and merchants with exotic foreign goods: all carried legal ideas and traditions with them from place to place. Laws that worked in Mesopotamia might be useful in Egypt if the Pharaoh and his priests liked it, promoted it and could enforce it. Even the gods -- the irenic ones, anyway -- supported reasonable laws fairly applied.

The Jews in particular loved their Law of Moses. When their two kingdoms were destroyed by foreign invaders and they were driven from their homeland they took "God's Law" with them, adapting it to home and synagogue. They would be a stateless nation, scattered from India to Spain and North Africa, identifiable by their peculiar customs. If the alien authorities -- by succession: Assyrian, Babylonian, Greek, Seleucid or Roman  -- ignored their odd customs the Jews clung to them all the more fervently. Faithful obedience to God's law ensured spiritual freedom of the mind and heart under economic and political oppression. Every verse of Psalm 119, the longest of the psalms, celebrates a facet of God's fascinating, beautiful law with gratitude and joy.

However, the word law takes on an entirely different dimension when Jesus speaks of it, especially for any citizen of the twenty-first century. We think of laws as agreements among members of a society within a social contract. They can be ignored, forgotten, suspended, cancelled or altered to fit changing times and circumstances. Most people do not regard "man-made" laws as the will of God, though they might agree that God prefers a well-ordered, law-abiding society. Infractions of the law may be punished, but that depends upon the criminal's wealth and connections and the judge's severity. Laws usually favor the status quo, and reward the class who created and imposed them. Although everyone agrees they should be imposed equally, we know they never were and never will be.

When we hear Jesus speak of keeping my commandments, we don't expect the plasticity of the social contract. Rather, we accept his authority with the same traditional joy and gratitude of  our Jewish ancestors. If his "commands" don't have the specificity of the Mosaic Law, much less the technical details of secular codes, they lead us directly and with all the more assurance into the heart of Our Father.

"Remain in my love!" Jesus commands. From the first chapter of John's gospel we hear that happy invitation, "Come and see." Obedience to Jesus' command entails living within his house, under his guidance and protection. His house is a place of healing, even a hospital, rehab center and rest home. As in any hospital, there are rules of courtesy, compliance and cooperation, as well as honesty about our sad condition. We come to this house in all humility to learn how to belong to Christ, and not to show others how they should live.

It is a house of Joy for all people. We are glad to be here.

Wednesday of the Fifth Week of Easter

Lectionary: 287

I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine grower. 

He takes away every branch in me that does not bear fruit,

and everyone that does he prunes so that it bears more fruit. 

You are already pruned because of the word that I spoke to you. 

Remain in me, as I remain in you.

Catholics recognize deep, moving teachings about the sacraments in Saint John's gospel. Although there are no explicit "words of institution" for Baptism or the Eucharist -- We hear neither "Baptize all nations!" nor "Take and eat, this is my body!" in the fourth gospel -- the relationship of Jesus and his disciples is immediate and intimate, experienced especially in eating, drinking and submersion in water. If the word spiritual suggests non-physical, it fails to comprehend this Gospel, the Sacraments or our immediate connection to Jesus. It is more than spiritual and more than physical.

Each one of us is a branch to his vine, we have life and bear fruit only if his sap flows through our bodies.

Human beings are endlessly creative; we are always planning and executing our plans. But what if all our plans come to nothing? What if my life's work fails in futility?

I understand there is a Woody Allen skit in which two men are told that our Sun will collapse and the Earth will be incinerated in the supernova several billion years from now. The sensitive gentlemen, hearing this, break down in tears? "For what?" they ask of all human endeavor. In Homer's Odyssey, Odysseus travels into the underworld to find that his former friends and enemies have forgotten the fighting around Troy. The heroic struggle, the defeats and victories, the effort: nothing remains. Only Achilles can remember some of it. Must human life come to a coma with no awakening? Is dementia the end of human life?

In the face of this existential threat, we sing, "The Word of the Lord endures forever." What I create or you initiate might come to nothing but what we do in Jesus, the Word of God, endures because He lives forever. That which God creates cannot be lost; God's plan must be fulfilled.

Finding my place in the lush vine of Jesus, I realize that anything worth doing takes more than one lifetime. Announcing the Word of God, comforting the grief-stricken, healing the sick, reconciling the sinner, building the kingdom of God: these are not the accomplishments of one person unless he is the Lord.

Tuesday of Fifth Week of Easter

Lectionary: 286

They strengthened the spirits of the disciples

and exhorted them to persevere in the faith, saying, "It is necessary for us to undergo many hardships to enter the Kingdom of God."

I have heard that the famously-Catholic coach of the Green Bay Packers, Vince Lombardi, spoke reassuring words of comfort to his players when they lost, and chewed them out when they won. Thus did he strengthened the spirit of his disciples throughout his winning career.  

As long as there have been campaigns in team sports, politics and war successful leaders have found ways to rally their people as they marched toward victory. "Nothing succeeds like success" and they had to win in one way or another, but sometimes winning takes peculiar forms. As when a "losing" team triumphs by showing up and a "winning" team disappoints by failing to destroy their weaker opponents. 

I suppose Saint Paul often used his own formula of "psalms, hymns and inspired songs" when he met the Christians in Lystra, Iconium and Antioch. Certainly this group of Jews and gentiles, bonded by their love of Christ and the hostility of their neighbors and former friends, needed encouragement.

Building up the spirit can take many forms. Some inept leaders know only how to abuse their people with curses and contempt. Perhaps they believe "Whatever doesn't kill you will make you stronger!" as they threaten their children, students and employees. Others can only offer words of encouragement, being conflict-averse and too timid to use strong language. 

Twice a week in the VA hospital I conduct a "spirituality discussion" with men and women who suffer addictions. Most are familiar with the basic principles of building physical strength. We should eat right, not smoke, and get the necessary rest. Challenging exercises like running, swimming, and weightlifting add muscle tone and increase one's ability to lift heavier loads. Some of the Veterans, despite their abuse of alcohol, retain powerful bodies. But some have never heard of spiritual strength.

As I visit other patients in the hospital, I see many who have not maintained any strength at all, neither physical, mental nor spiritual. They may also suffer intellectual, financial, social and familial weakness. Their medical charts simply say, "failure to thrive." 

My responsibility, like that of Saint Paul, is to "strengthen the spirit." 

Some Veterans decline my personal visits and avoid our spiritual discussion. Perhaps they don't know their spirits --like their minds and bodies -- require strengthening. Many people suppose they have the "will power" to make the right choices and live well but, mysteriously, fail consistently because they "don't try hard enough." The analogy of the body-building can help. If you would compete in a weight-lifting contest, you'd better start planning, working, and investing time, energy and money well in advance. Saint Paul knew that when he encouraged his Corinthians, "Run as if to win!" 

And Jesus instructed his disciples, "Strive to enter through the narrow gate." He promised no one an easy victory. 

No one should suppose salvation comes easily, by right of entitlement. The Lord did not invite us to a cakewalk when he said, "Take up your cross daily and follow me." We must build up our spiritual strength day by day, listening to competent spiritual leaders, as we follow the Lord to Jerusalem, Calvary and Easter. 

Monday of the Fifth Week of Easter

Lectionary: 285​

Jesus answered and said to him,

"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.

This verse from John 14 is often cited in our mystical tradition. Contemplatives speak of the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. The phrase, misunderstood, suggests magic. By that I mean, something unnatural and bizarre, neither human nor familiar. If the Holy Trinity or any Member of that August Trio were to take up residence in my soul I would surely look and feel differently! I would be a saint!

(But, since that's not possible, I'll not worry about it.)

Candidate saints of these latter days often expect an experience of holiness when God moves in. We should feel with John Wesley, strangely warmed in the heart. Or, better yet, we might pray in tongues and be slain in the Spirit. These experiences are supposed to assure the faithful they are saved. The history of the United States is replete with mass experiences of grace, beginning with the first Great Awakening in the eighteenth century. Several of these movements have taught Americans to seek experience -- sacred or profane -- and regard it as the ultimate goal of life. In the end, having amassed a satisfactory collection of spiritual and emotional adventures, one might say, "I've had a good life!" However, neither Jesus nor Saint John knew of the American predilection for experience.

I read this beautiful and important verse as a promise of God's presence in the Church and to every faithful member of the Church. But there is no sure or certain experience which guarantees one's salvation. If we live by faith we live also by the anxiety that accompanies faith, and by the courage which responds to that anxiety. But even that courage guarantees nothing but the sense of conviction. If I am sure I am right, that doesn't make me right. It only tells me I feel right. Anyone who has ever been angry knows the pseudo-authority of thinking they can do what they feel like doing and say what they feel like saying. Only to regret it later.

Our faith is in the ineffable God and not in any past or present experience of grace.

Saint Paul encountered a similar problem in his relations with the Corinthians. His opponents -- whom he mockingly called "super-apostles" -- claimed authority to preach because that had seen extraordinary visions. At some time, apparently as a younger man, he had known these ecstasies.

I must boast; not that it is profitable, but I will go on to visions and revelations of the Lord. I know someone in Christ who, fourteen years ago (whether in the body or out of the body I do not know, God knows), was caught up to the third heaven. And I know that this person (whether in the body or out of the body I do not know, God knows) was caught up into Paradise and heard ineffable things, which no one may utter. About this person I will boast, but about myself I will not boast, except about my weaknesses.

The Apostle could "boast" only of the humiliation he had suffered at the hands of suspicious Romans, hostile Jews, and contrary Christians. The ecstasies of his youth afforded him little pleasure in his latter years. They meant nothing to him and he tells us nothing of what he "heard" except that they were unutterable. If any super-apostle could describe his vision or audition, he was lying.

These visions did not assure anyone that the Father and the Son had made their dwelling with them.

In our practice of faith we should look for the assurance of doing good without doing well. We feed the hungry because they're hungry; we clothe the naked because they're naked. Not because it makes us feel good. There is no profit motive in our generosity. Nor is there an expectation of gratitude. If our generous offers are declined we honor that. We might even suppose "my bad." Perhaps I offered the wrong kind of help at the wrong time. We might then ask, "Can I help?" and "How can I help?" But there's no shame in having one's offer declined because we're not saved by our charity either.

"Nada, nada, nada." Saint John of the Cross said of his faith. There is no ego in God; we need none in our practice of faith.

Fifth Sunday of Easter

Lectionary: 54

I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 

"Behold, God's dwelling is with the human race.

He will dwell with them and they will be his people; 

and God himself will always be with them as their God.

He will wipe every tear from their eyes,

and there shall be no more death or

mourning, wailing or pain,

for the old order has passed away."

It was not so long ago that the sky seemed like a high, distant place. Mountain climbers could ascend to dizzy heights and gaze on villages nestled in the valleys. Belfries offered the next highest vistas, and watch towers. Boys, young men, and Zacchaeus might climb trees to get a better look. Some buildings had second and third floors but skyscrapers never appeared until the 1880's. Before the appearance of aeroplanes and hot air balloons with gondolas, high places were inaccessible. 

The world changed with the airplane. The view from up there of people, buildings, highways and rivers below was no longer astonishing. First there were photos and films, now there are videos taken from drones. Live, airborne cameras chase footballs through stadiums and horses around a racetrack!

It was long understood that God's place is in the heavens, far beyond the reach of even the great and powerful. The Bible describes visions of God's throne when the sky rolled up like a scroll -- or a flapping window shade -- to reveal astonishing, incomprehensible glory. In those rare instances earthlings had seen how high the Lord is, but no one could go up there. The fools of Babel had attempted it only to be struck with incomprehensible confusion. Instead of the prestige they sought with their tower, they won the world's mockery.

However, from ancient times, this understanding of God's high place in heaven -- so obvious to anyone who saw the glory of God in a sunrise or sunset -- was challenged by other biblical traditions, especially the Book of Revelation. If mortals want the Divine to stay in a distant, inaccessible heaven, God prefers to dwell with the human race. First, he traveled with the Ark of the Covenant; the Hebrews carried this box-like throne across the Sinai Peninsula; and later stationed it at Shiloh. Then King David brought the Ark to his capital city of Jerusalem and Solomon installed it in his world class temple. When the Ark disappeared into the sky, the Lord himself visited his people as he walked the dusty roads  of Israel in the person of Jesus:

He will dwell with them and they will be his people

and God himself will always be with them as their God.

We should understand passages like this and take them to heart. God prefers to be with us -- as a husband with his wife, a wife with her husband, a friend with a friend. If there are times of absence they are a felt absence, which is a kind of presence.

Deists of the Enlightenment developed the doctrine of deus otiosus, the missing God; but that notion is alien to our belief. There is nothing about us that is not fascinating and desirable to our Father. He cannot keep himself away.

Julian of Norwich saw in her visions that the Lord sustains us in continual love. Should the Lord turn away from us, even for an instant, we would cease to be; we would never have been. Our very existence is a sign of God's continual gaze.

Catholics never forget the Real Presence of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. The holiness of this bread, once consecrated, does not grow stale. We store it in the tabernacle for our sick and for our continual veneration. Before the nation was overrun with addicts who try every lock in their search for ready cash, we kept our parish churches open and available for anyone who might want to pray at any time. Someday, when this epidemic of zombies has passed, we will reopen them. in the meanwhile we pray for deliverance.

We should also understand that God's presence in our world is you and me, the Church. If someone asks, "Where is God?" we can answer, "Here we are!" By our prayers, generosity, courtesy, and kindness we present the Lord to our neighbors, friends, and enemies. Sometimes we might announce a good word to them; often we listen with compassion; mostly we are here in the same predicaments.

Jesus has sent us to be a sacred presence in this world below the sky. Even when our neighbors might wish we would rapture somewhere, anywhere else, we belong here.