Memorial of Saint John Bosco, Priest

 

 Lectionary: 323

As David went up the Mount of Olives, he wept without ceasing. His head was covered, and he was walking barefoot. All those who were with him also had their heads covered and were weeping as they went.

Many people in the Bible weep. There's a story there, and a history. 

Some fool once said, "Real men don't weep." I can't imagine where that came from, or why; but it spreads like a contagion from men to women to children. Perhaps it's a facet of the Big Lie which first appeared in the Garden of Eden when Adam blamed God for what he and Eve had done. 

Real men like King David and Jesus of Nazareth weep often and easily. It's what we do when we feel sadness, and sometimes when we're frustrated and tired. Many people break down and cry in the confessional and it's often from sheer exhaustion. Feeling welcome and safe, they give vent to their feelings. 

I have read that eighteenth century audiences wept easily and often during theatrical productions. Some would howl when Ophelia drowned or Cyrano died. They might insist that the players encore, and go through the scene again. (The actors were underpaid servants and subject to the whims of an engaged audience.) Even into the twentieth century theater-goers anguished through staged melodramas as they loudly demanded that the damsel in distress might be rescued. Only when the actors became more powerful were the audiences told to pipe down and let the show go on. 

As we wait for an apparently endless pandemic to end we may finally allow ourselves to weep and feel helpless. 

If we learn anything from the Gospel of Jesus Christ it is that sadness and weeping belong in our human experience, along with weakness, vulnerability, aging, confusion,  foolishness, mischief, uncertainty, and anger. We may prefer joy and gladness but that preference only demonstrates our spiritual immaturity. 

The Gospels don't dwell on that other side of Jesus but neither do they hide the foolishness of the boy who stayed behind in Jerusalem to question the elders. We hear of the Lord's frustration as disciples misunderstood him and quarreled over which was the greatest among them. We feel his sadness when adoring crowds demanded too much of him and then walked away from him. We notice his reluctance to deal with gentile women, and then his recognition of them. We learn of his surprise when a Roman centurion understands him better than his own disciples. 

Made in God's image, the Spirit teaches us to embrace the apparently undesirable facets of our nature. The cross reveals them as blessed and beautiful. We can admire the drop-dead gorgeous and the heroically powerful but we are enchanted by aging, need, and even querulous confusion. Sometimes cruelty arouses pity among the blessed for its blind stupidity. We have heard our martyrs pray for their persecutors. 

As he wept over the holy city that would hail his coming and then crucify him, Jesus felt deep compassion for its suffering. It was far deeper than they could comprehend. No artist could express it. As we struggle under a nuclear cloud of grief, and see people willfully ignoring it with mind-altering drugs and mindless entertainment, we accept the full gamut of human experience and thank the Lord Jesus for walking with us. He does not walk ahead or behind; he is with us. 

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 72

The word of the LORD came to me, saying: Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I dedicated you, a prophet to the nations I appointed you. But do you gird your loins; stand up and tell them all that I command you.

Last Sunday we heard Saint Luke describe the reception Jesus received as he began his ministry in his native town of Nazareth, "...the eyes of all in the synagogue looked intently at him." They were astonished at his reading and reflection upon it -- “Today this Scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing!” They didn't know what to make of him. He was certainly familiar. They knew his family and his face; his accent was local; but his presence -- suddenly revealed as mysterious, powerful, and divine -- astonished them. 

They had just heard the Word of God announce the Word of God. What had been familiar and commonplace suddenly shone with a brilliant light. They had a revelation. 

In today's gospel we hear what happened next. After the shock wave of astonishment passed through them like a receding sea, the mundane returned like a tsunami. The synagogue, the local neighborhood, the city and region with their politics and problems had suddenly looked strange like the sea bottom exposed. And then the normal flooded over them again. 

They didn't like the experience, and they wanted no more of it. “Isn’t this the son of Joseph?” Who does he think he is reading to us like that, and making like he is the Son of God?

Not many people attend church, synagogue, or mosque expecting anything new or astonishing. If they're prepared for a new statue, icon, or minister to be introduced they also expect this novelty to fit in with everything they already know. They don't like upheaval. They don't want a new understanding of this world.  

Religion is naturally conservative and religious leaders have always cultivated a reassuring sense of the normal, routine, and quotidian. A consumer society in church may want to be entertained but the entertainment should be like a roller coaster ride -- predictable, safe, and harmless. They may have gone to the top of the "mountain" on this fantastic ride, but the world was not changed when they coasted to a stop. 

Preachers, set on building and maintaining their congregations in a competitive religious market, often recommend, "Take what you like and leave the rest." If change must come you don't have to take it. And you're bound to find something you like in the readings, songs, preaching, and prayers. Listen for that and don't worry about the disagreeable. You can ignore what you don't need just as you ignore the ads and commercials of your radio, television, and Internet. God wants you here; I want you here; and -- besides -- you're happy here!

Catholics sometimes describe themselves as cafeteria Catholics. They don't buy everything the Church says but the dear old religion is familiar and comfortable and we've been sitting in this very same pew forever. 

But the saints remind us that, when you pick and choose the doctrines you like, you're not listening to God. Your mind is critical and your ear is guarded. Your god is your belly, it only takes what it wants.  

Jesus's familiarity on that strange Saturday morning, coupled with the epiphany they'd just experienced, was a huge part of his message. You don't have to be what you're not; you don't have to be a champion, a hero, or a super-being. Nor should you plumb the ocean or scale the heights in your search for holiness. "I will come to you! I have come to you!"  

Temple of Minerva

When he designed the frescoes in Assisi the Renaissance artist Giotto placed familiar images of Jesus on one side of the basilica and familiar stories of Saint Francis on the other. Since Francis had been born and lived most of his life in that town, the images of buildings and trees were local. One fresco shows Francis standing in front of the Temple of Minerva, the ancient Roman structure, which was only steps away from the shrine. To this day you can walk down the street and compare the original to the artist's rendition. 

On the other side of the church, Jesus stands among the same olive and sycamore trees, which are common to the Mediterranean basin. Suddenly, the visitor sees that the Son of God lived in our world; he was not simply a denizen of the golden streets of Paradise. And Mary, the Queen of Heaven, was also familiar with the dirt and grime of local streets. 

The frescoes announced, God has "pitched his tent among us.", (John 1:14) He comes to our world and insists that we meet him on his terms and not our own. The Nazarenes in today's gospel were not prepared for that.  

The Son of Joseph and Mary heard the same divine command from the Prophet Jeremiah that we heard this morning, "Gird your loins; stand up and tell them all that I command you." Obediently and fearlessly, he stood before his family, friends, and neighbors, and announced his presence and his mission as the anointed one, the Messiah. He must bring glad tidings to the poor. 

We too are anointed to bring the same glad tidings to the ignored, neglected, and poor. Catholics can no more hide their love of God and the Church than Jesus could hide from his people in Nazareth. Conformity is no safe place for us.

Saturday of the Third Week in Ordinary Time

 

Lectionary: 322

He woke up,
rebuked the wind, 
and said to the sea, “Quiet!  Be still!”
The wind ceased and there was great calm.

Now there's a word you don't hear often, rebuke. Google says of it, "The root comes from the Old French rebuchier and means "to hack down," or "beat back." A rebuke, then, is meant to be critical and to chide — in today's terms, a rebuke is verbal smack-down!"

When we hear the Lord rebuke the wind and sea, we should think of Psalm 46:10-11,

Who stops wars to the ends of the earth,
breaks the bow, splinters the spear,
and burns the shields with fire;
Be still and know that I am God!
I am exalted among the nations,
exalted on the earth.

Is it any wonder then, that "They were filled with great awe and said to one another, “Who then is this whom even wind and sea obey?” 

Nor is the question simply metaphorical. When we see ferocious tornadoes, mudslides, droughts, and fires destroying towns and villages; and when we see island nations sinking and major cities shrinking before rising sea levels,  we might ask, "Are these natural catastrophes obeying an Authority beyond the reckoning of our whiz-bang sciences?" 

But the question is also very personal, for Jesus immediately rebukes his disciples, "“Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?”

The popular biblical meme "Be still and know that I am God!" challenges and invites. If we think we are in charge of this world, we have another thought coming: "I am the Lord! There is no other!" Your science and technology are amazing but they pale before God's authority like a candle when the morning sun rises. 

The Lord also invites us, "...know that I am God." How many times must he say to us, "Do not be afraid?' 

Fear drives people to do stupid things. We've seen that since 9/11, January 6, and the onset of the AIDS epidemic and Covid pandemic. But Saint John assures us,

In this is love brought to perfection among us, that we have confidence on the day of judgment because as he is, so are we in this world. There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear because fear has to do with punishment, and so one who fears is not yet perfect in love. We love because he first loved us.

"Rebuke the wise, and they will love you." says Proverbs 9:8. We thank God that we see his sovereign authority in the wind and sea, and in our political/economic catastrophes. 

Memorial of Saint Thomas Aquinas, Priest and Doctor of the Church

 Lectionary: 321

This is how it is with the Kingdom of God; it is as if a man were to scatter seed on the land and would sleep and rise night and day and the seed would sprout and grow, he knows not how. Of its own accord the land yields fruit....

We should probably note that, nearly two millennia after Jesus's observation about the farmer's wisdom, we still do not know how the seed sprouts and grows. Biology has made incredible advances beyond my comprehension and yet we do not know how dirt becomes living tissue, or the basic processes of photosynthesis. It has something to do with sunlight. Maybe it's quantum! Whatever that is. 

A lot of people, thinking they know something about science, scoff at religion. They'll say it's not scientific, and therefore must be untrue. But real scientists know the limits of their craft. We might never know precisely how life evolved. Experimental, imaginative recreations of paleolithic scenarios in which life might have appeared, have failed to produce life. And even if one succeeded no one could say that it actually happened this way several billion years ago. 

Nor can we define the next great leap when biological life became human life. We hardly know what it means to be human! True, great apes act in some human-like ways, but none have ever composed an oratorio or staged an opera. They don't even know how to destroy all human life on this planet! Something we can and might do. 

And finally, how will the Kingdom of God appear? No one can imagine it. But some groups have experimented with Utopian societies both religious and secular. Others have tried to create ideal governmental and economic programs. They promise peace and prosperity but produce war and famine. 

But we must do something and so we tinker with the systems we have. We try to make our justice systems more just, our police systems less brutal, our educational systems more thoughtful, and our churches more sacred. We succeed by inches and fail by yards. 

We strive to enter through the narrow gate. To surrender to inertia is to die. If our efforts are not from God they'll disappear without a trace. If they are inspired by the Lord they will succeed beyond our wildest dreams even as we pass through a crucifixion of utter despair. 

Optional Memorial of Saint Angela Merici, virgin

 Lectionary: 320

Your name will be forever great, when men say, ‘The LORD of hosts is God of Israel,’ and the house of your servant David stands firm before you.

Today's first reading describes King David's astonishment on hearing the promise God had made to him through his prophet/advisor Nathan. Having selected the formerly Canaanite city of Jerusalem as the capital of his kingdom, and after building a palace for himself and his retinue, he had told Nathan he would build a proper house (temple) for the Lord. Initially Nathan had agreed. 

But the Lord spoke to Nathan that night with another plan. The Lord would build a house for David! And he should not build a temple. That project would be left to a son yet to be born. 

The "house" God would build would be a dynasty of David's sons ruling Israel "forever!" Which is not long when you're thinking of the future; it's only long when you look back over a long history and see how things evolved. Who doesn't expect their city or nation to last forever? 

Our religion is a promise which is always yet-to-be-fulfilled. It is an expectation of future things unimaginable but presently reassuring. We can, and do, bank on it for it is more certain than the banks with their FDIC. 

We "bank on it" in the sense that we keep our promises as Christians by doing justice, loving goodness, and walking humbly with our God. (Micah 6:8) This entails the life of the sacraments which flows out into our secular affairs. We deal honestly within the Church and beyond. We keep our vows, pledges, and word. 

We do that because God keeps his word, and "the word of the Lord remains forever. This is the word that has been proclaimed to you." (I Peter 1:25) 

Finally, someone should ask, "Why does God make this promise in the first place?" 

Is it because we are such fine people? So noble, intelligent, clever, charming, beautiful, attractive, or successful? Is it because we're good, faithful, honest, or reliable? 

If anything, it's just the opposite. We have none of those traits as Saint Paul reminded the Corinthians. (I Cor 1:26 ff)

But we can forget all that. As David -- who was in fact successful, good-looking, and powerful -- says in his prayer, 

"Your name will be forever great, when men say, 
‘The LORD of hosts is God of Israel,’
and the house of your servant David stands firm before you.

It's not about us. It's not about me. 

The other day I met a fellow who, feeling suicidal, had checked himself into the VA psych ward. A lot of things were going wrong in his life and suicide seemed like an easy way out. But he loved his wife and her children, and had fled to the hospital. 

He felt enormous relief when I reminded him, "Your life is not about you." And he responded, "We're here to care for others." (It would have been nice had he said he loved God with all his heart, soul, mind, and strength but I was happy with the steps he'd taken.) 

We are here to serve God and God's purposes which include that men will say, ""Your name will be forever great!" 

It is an ENORMOUS RELIEF to know I do not have to be beautiful, successful, wealthy, or strong. Nor do I have to be admired, envied, or loved by others. There's nothing wrong with those things per se, but they're neither satisfying nor particularly healthy. They don't mean much at all. 

We're here to praise God, and God sustains us with the daily bread of his Holy Spirit. Others should notice that "The LORD of hosts is God of Israel, and the house of your servant David stands firm before you."

Forever is a long time and David's dynasty in Jerusalem ended abruptly when the Babylonian army sieged and leveled the city. But Jesus is the Son of David and the fulfillment of God's promise, and we have seen enough to know his word endures forever and his dynasty shall never fail. 

Memorial of Saints Timothy and Titus, Bishops

Lectionary: 520/319

Paul, an Apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God for the promise of life in Christ Jesus, to Timothy, my dear child: grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.

We know little about the Saints Timothy and Titus. They are remembered for their being disciples of Saint Paul, and his letters to them. Saint Luke tells us that Timothy was Greek, and he was not circumcised until adulthood, which occurred after his conversion to Christ. We know even less about Titus.

Their feastday, immediately following Saint Paul's, tells us what is most important about them, they were his disciples. The Church was spreading rapidly from city to city throughout the Roman empire. But it was neither the latest thing nor a fashionable idea.

The apostolic leaders knew the Gospel must take deep root in the minds and hearts of those who accepted baptism. They must practice the faith in a community of faith not for years or decades but for centuries. Children must be born into the religion, shaped and formed by its beliefs, and committed to its values. Eventually the Gospel should appear in stone: cathedrals, basilicas, and churches;  architectural works that would speak to generations yet unborn. Poets, musicians, and lawyers should create the spiritual infrastructure that would shape the imagination and thought patterns so that Christians would never doubt that Jesus is Lord, and that we worship together. Husbands and wives should be faithful to one another and their children with the support and protection of a dynamic community. 

The apostolic church had the experience of Judaism; that is, of struggling as a minority in a pagan society to keep the faith. They knew the attrition that occurs as children are fascinated and distracted by the alluring values of a dominant culture. 

They knew to make sacrifices daily for the religion, and to teach the value of sacrifice. They had no memory as we do today, of being a dominant culture which just assumes that Jesus is God and everybody knows it. They would pay a heavy price for their faith and they were not surprised when the bill arrived. 

In many respects our experience is quite different. American Catholicism remembers the mid-twentieth century when being Catholic was respected. We were organized and motivated and well financed. We built churches and hospitals, schools and universities. We had cemeteries separate from the public cemeteries for our own beloved dead. We've had a hard time realizing those days are gone. 

Many Catholics of my generations have not attended a church since their childhood but still expect it will be there -- unchanged! -- when they're ready to return. "The Church doesn't change!" they were told sixty years ago and they believe it. Neighborhoods, businesses, communications, political parties change; but the Church remains recognizably the same! As if....

Saints Timothy and Titus were bishops in the mode of Jewish leaders, but they were altering the model to fit a time of hostility, ostracism, and persecution. They prayed daily for God's spirit which would not allow them to wander left or right into more appealing, less radical heresies. They knew all about bad religion and its costs. They and their people preferred painful death to betrayal. 

As we transition through the endless challenges of the twenty-first century, as we struggle to maintain democracy in the United States, amid pandemics, mass migrations, and a hostile environment, we will guard what has been entrusted to us (1 Tim 6:20). against bad religion and hateful ideologies. We owe this to our God and to our children. 

Feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul, Apostle

 Lectionary: 519

Paul addressed the people in these words: “I am a Jew, born in Tarsus in Cilicia, but brought up in this city. At the feet of Gamaliel I was educated strictly in our ancestral law and was zealous for God, just as all of you are today."

Saint Paul is sometimes blamed for the separation of Christianity from Judaism. It's an argument founded on a weak reading of the New Testament. A stronger case can be made of Saint Paul's ferocious love of his Jewish people and his heart-breaking effort to win them to the Way which had been revealed to him. Certainly his relationship with them is complex and sometimes tormented. While he believed with all his heart and soul in Jesus Christ, the split was inevitable. And, evidently, God's will.

Insulated as I am in the Catholic Church and among the Franciscan friars, I have not known any Jews personally; nor have I even met very many. But I have encountered antisemitism among Christians and Catholics and been appalled by its naked evil. To despise Jews is to despise Jesus, Mary, the Apostles, and the God of the Jewish people. To hate Jews is become an enemy of God; it invites upon oneself all the catastrophes that are described in the Old Testament. 

After one recent encounter with antisemitism, I realized, were the Jews to disappear from the Earth, Christianity would perish. And all hope for humanity would be lost as nuclear night or environmental darkness descended. 

In today's reading from Acts 22, we can see that Saint Paul's knowledge of God went far beyond the bible. He was heart and soul, flesh and blood, Jewish to the core and that was how he knew Jesus; as one Jew to another. He was compelled to announce the Gospel to the gentiles and more than equipped to do so by his formation and education. He'd grown up in the gentile city of Tarsus and spoke fluent Greek as well as anyone in the Roman empire. (It was the language of the empire.) But he could not and would not forget his Jewish identity. In fact, he boasted of it. 

Saint Jerome famously said of Jesus, "Ignorance of the scriptures is ignorance of Jesus." We might say the same about Saint Paul. No one can read his writings without being directed back to the Hebrew Scriptures; no one can ponder his writings without studying the Old Testament prophets, sages, psalms, and historical books. 

But familiarity with Saint Paul also reminds us, if the Word of God is contained in the Bible, it is not contained by the Bible. Knowledge of God's word is knowing Abraham and Sarah, Moses, David, Solomon, Jesus, Mary, Joseph, the apostles and disciples, the martyrs, confessors, and virgins; and -- yes -- Judas Iscariot. They are our people. No one among us can be despised by one who embraces Jesus of Nazareth. 

Saint Paul had a temper which was known well to his friends and enemies. Some of his unfortunate remarks about the Jews are recorded in scripture but they are the utterances of a man whose heart is breaking for love of them. 

Which of us has not said awful things to and about people we dearly love? Were anyone, after hearing my story,  to say to me, "Your father was a terrible man!" they'd incur my wrath. "How dare you?" 

We should pray, each one of us, that we might be as deeply immersed among, and as passionately in love with the People of God as Saint Paul. We should insist that my identity is Christian and my ancestors are Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. And I love them as I love the Lord God. 

Memorial of Saint Francis de Sales, Bishop and Doctor of the Church

 Lectionary: 317

Summoning them, he began to speak to them in parables, “How can Satan drive out Satan? If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand; that is the end of him.

I have read recently of the deep divisions within the House of Trump. His ardent supporters are so eager to promote him and his big lie that many have turned viciously against one another. Especially because "there's gold in them there fields!" --but less gold all the time as interest in a losing cause fades -- they accuse one another of not being truly loyal, of lying, of ignorance and stupidity.

It's not easy to agree on a lie. 

But it's not difficult to agree on the Truth. The Catholic Church survived violent, bloody persecutions during its earliest centuries because people from Spain to India, from England to North Africa agreed on the truth. The Spirit of God gave men and women, boys and girls the courage of the martyrs to believe in Jesus of Nazareth as risen from the dead, the Word made Flesh, who is received in the Most Blessed Sacrament of the Eucharist.

Meanwhile hundreds of heresies sprang up and quarreled with each other. Few gathered more than a handful of adherents; they could not agree on a lie. 

To tell the truth one must love the Truth. She is more desirable than gold or silver, more delightful than I love Lucy or The Wizard of Oz; more beautiful than Miss Universe; and sweeter than wine. She is also demanding, a jealous God who abides no falsehood or deception. We love her with all our being or not at all. 

Those who are unwilling to live within the Truth, to be governed, guided, and judged by the truth, tell lies. They tell you what they want you to believe, or what you want to believe, or what seems most plausible or most popular. They like the simple, "common sense" explanations -- what they've known all their lives -- although common sense has little knowledge of history or science. (If common sense tells you that men have always gone to work while women stayed at home to raise the children, it's because they don't remember when both parents worked at home in their workshops, stores, and farms.) 

The love of Truth demands attention and care as the honest person chooses the right words to convey the right message to this particular person or audience. Because different people have different backgrounds, education, experience, and levels of maturity, the same words do not convey the same truth to everyone. Honest people know that. They listen even as they speak to those who listen to them. They ask, "Are we understanding the same thing?" 

When asked a hard question honesty has to think about it for a while. Sometimes they must do research. If it's a personal question, they research their own hearts. If it is a matter of controversy they study even as they wait for more information, and then to process that information. And when they discover that they spoke inaccurately, they admit they were wrong. (It's not hard to do.) 

The love of Truth is never rude, brutal, or intentionally hurtful. The truth may hurt but that is never the intention of those who speak the truth. The truth sets us free if we're willing to be free. If not, she abandons us to the painful consequences. Honesty speaks the truth in love, or not at all. 

As we ponder January 6, 2021 -- everything that led up to it, the events of that day, and the unfolding story since that trauma -- we pray that the United States has not become a house divided against itself. We pray that truth will bring us together, chastened, humble, and willing to speak the truth in love. 

Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 69

He came to Nazareth, where he had grown up,
and went according to his custom 
into the synagogue on the sabbath day.
He stood up to read and was handed a scroll of the prophet Isaiah....

Rolling up the scroll, he handed it back to the attendant and sat down,
and the eyes of all in the synagogue looked intently at him.

The two verses above are separated by Jesus's reading from Isaiah the Prophet. I have selected them to highlight the before-and-after effect of this incident. As he sat down, the astonished congregation might have asked, "What just happened?"

The story begins with a routine sabbath day in the synagogue. The faithful have come to hear the word of God. They seem to expect the usual readings, rabbinic reflections, perhaps a traditional harangue -- (My dad always liked a fire and brimstone harangue.) -- familiar songs and congregational dancing, followed by the blessing and gossipy chitchat as the group disperses. 

Jesus, a young man of about thirty, seems to be a recognized and familiar member of the home crowd. He stands up to read and is handed the scroll of the prophet Isaiah. There's nothing unusual so far. 

Nor are the words of Isaiah very different. This very long collection of prophetic writing by at least three different authors was then -- and still is -- very important. There is controversy over this particular passage. Who is the one anointed to bring glad tidings to the poor? Popular opinion supposes it must be the messiah. He should appear soon! A safer reading might say it is the descendants of Abraham. 

By the mysterious ways of God, the memory of Abraham, the Law of Moses, and the reforms of Ezra and Nehemiah had survived thus far. In the meanwhile kingdoms and empires had risen and fallen; cities had appeared, prospered, and disappeared; while peoples, clans, and nations had developed traditions and as quickly forgotten them. The Jews, heirs of the Hebrews slaves and the elect of God, persisted. 

For all the years, they had little to show beyond their memories, which they retained by way of customary foods, songs, and the sacred writings. The books were written in the religious language of Hebrew. No one spoke it in the street anymore. Children were taught Hebrew so that they might hear and read the Word and understand its general meaning. The congregation who heard Jesus read this passage probably recognized its sound as we might recognize the King James version, quaint, familiar, and comfortable. 

No one expected much when the local boy stood up to do the reading. But when he sat down, they felt as if they'd been struck by lightning. What just happened? That was no ordinary reading of Isaiah! That was more than an extraordinary reading! 

The Word of God had proclaimed the Word of God. The man who knew every phrase, word, syllable and letter; every nuance, and subtle inflection of the word as well as he knew himself had read God's word. 

Saint Luke prepared us for the event when he wrote, "Jesus returned to Galilee in the power of the Spirit...."

You or I might be inspired by the Spirit once in a while. We hope we're always at least guided by the Spirit and that the Spirit might cover for us when we're hopelessly off target. But Jesus was filled with the Spirit at every moment; and his feeling, thinking, speaking, reading, and acting were always animated by God's Spirit. There is only one God, as he told us, "The Father and I are one!" When he stood before God's people, they knew him. The presence of God was as palpable as his body. 

We thank God for the Word even as we praise God for the Eucharist. They are inseparable and we study both with intense love.

Day of Prayer for the Legal Protection of Unborn Children

Prayer for this day

 Lectionary: 516A

Now to him who is able to accomplish far more than all we ask or imagine,
by the power at work within us,
to him be glory in the Church and in Christ Jesus
to all generations, forever and ever.  Amen.

When I first heard the theory of evolution I imagined animals surviving as their bodies adapted to different kinds of behavior. For instance, I supposed that those high flying birds that dive for fish developed thicker skulls to absorb the impact. The thin-skulled died; the thicker-headed survived and multiplied. It was a crude supposition and, for all I know, my classmates thought the same way. 

I have come to a better understanding as I watch a climate change within my own lifetime. Evolution doesn't tweak the bodies or the behaviors of evolving species to fit the circumstances. Rather, entire species and their multiple relationships to others species evolve with the changing environment in collaboration and competition. The gazelle runs faster because the cheetah runs faster. The mongoose develops lightning quick reflexes to match the lightning quick strikes of the cobra. 

This evolution happens on the microscopic as well as the macroscopic levels. Mastodons had germs in their intestines that might not exist today. If scientists discovered mastodon DNA that could be stimulated to create a latter day monster, they might not know which microbes to plant in the infant intestines. Nor could they recreate the ecological landscape with all its flora and fauna where those animals roamed. 

My patient reader wonders what this has to do with the abortion controversy. 

Abortion as it is practiced on a global scale fits the economic, social, political, philosophical, and religious environment of our time. It can no more be eradicated than a surgeon could remove a diseased spinal cord and expect the patient to walk away. So long as consumers can buy whatever they want -- foods, clothes, entertainment, guns, drugs, sex, etc. -- they will demand and receive abortions. A consumer-driven economy must meet their demands, regardless of moral considerations. 

Abortion is deeply rooted in an economy of consumerism. If there was resistance to its legalization in the United States until 1973, consumers didn't demand it until then. The small demand was met illegally and often dangerously. And the belief that consumers should be able to purchase whatever they want was not as deep until the Baby Boomers came of age. That generation's buying power was discovered and nurtured to a hideous maturity by Walt Disney and other entrepreneurs.

Abortion will disappear as a legal institution when consumerism disappears. Not within my lifetime or yours. But someday. It wasn't always taken for granted, nor will it always be. Philosophers of the Enlightenment developed the radical idea that an individual could own as much as they could amass. More than a king, emperor, or pope -- and why not? The Church had always opposed greed but its authority was waning, and technological developments promised an unheard of prosperity and freedom for an awakening middle class. 

So consumerism has a long history and deep roots, especially in a nation founded upon middle class rights. Even the notion of rights, as in certain unalienable rights, is new to history. 

But the culture of consumerism will pass. It is founded upon too many untruths. The Earth cannot endure uninhibited waste and endless exploitation. Our "social security system" bears a troubling resemblance to a Ponzi scheme; it cannot provide aging parents with the protective care their children should provide. The middle class which demands its rights against the wealthy is disappearing. 

Paleontologists tell us the Earth has seen several "mass extinctions," global collapses when a way of life became unsustainable. Protests against abortion must oppose the culture of consumerism. Despite the starry-eyed optimists, it is unsustainable. 

If that seems unimaginable we turn to...

...him who is able to accomplish far more than all we ask or imagine,
by the power at work within us,
to him be glory in the Church and in Christ Jesus
to all generations, forever and ever.  Amen.

Memorial of Saint Agnes, Virgin and Martyr

 Lectionary: 315

Jesus went up the mountain and summoned those whom he wanted and they came to him.
He appointed Twelve, whom he also named Apostles, that they might be with him and he might send them forth to preach and to have authority to drive out demons...

As Saint Mark tells the story, there are two essential understandings about apostles. They are those "whom he wanted," and "they came to be with him." 

Of the first statement, we might notice how Saul "took three thousand picked men from all Israel" to go with him in search of David. In both cases, the leader chooses his followers; they accept the calling but do not initiate it. Our standing among Jesus's disciples is not won, awarded, earned or merited; it is bestowed. 

In both cases also, the followers go with the leader. They are never far from him spiritually although they might be sent on mission to a distant place. A faithful husband and wife are always conscious of their spouse's presence; they consult as often as possible about the decisions each one makes as they strive to become one in mind, heart, and body. My sisters and brothers have assured me that if they fail in that awareness they will be reminded!

Apostles accept the privilege with humility and gratitude. They know it's never about themselves. As we study the gospels we learn of the apostles' struggle with the Lord and among themselves as they came to terms with the gift. They quarreled as to which was the greater until the Lord caught them in the act and rebuked them for it. 

Lacking training and the delicate sensitivity that comes with it, they did not realize their jockeying for position insulted his authority. They were trying to make decisions that only he should make. Nor could they realize their struggle might have the opposite effect. Rather than drawing him closer to themselves, it might remove them from him.

We are called to be with the Lord. That awareness, that presence to him, must be as real and near as breathing. If we don't think a whole lot about breathing we feel the lack of breath immediately. And we take immediate steps to repair the situation. We cannot live without breathing; we cannot live without the Lord.

In the VA I have often read the literature and attended the workshops about suicide prevention. Suicidology focuses on statistics (who kill themselves and why) and the circumstances of suicide (availability of means, critical states, depression, etc.) But, in my experience, they steer clear of the essential question. "Why should I not kill myself?" 

As we accept the Lord's call to discipleship we come to know it as a call to life. Jesus is not simply the reason for the season, he is my reason for being who and what I am. If his invitation seemed like an option at the time -- a hobby or pastime or even a career -- it became as dear and more dear than life itself. Like the parents who cannot and would not imagine life without their children, I do not want a life without Jesus. Christians know why we would not kill ourselves and we know why no circumstance could force us to, or over, that edge. 

He gave us a mission, "...to preach and to have authority to drive out demons...." As his presence and witnesses in our world today, we complete that mission. 

Optional Memorial of Saint Fabian, martyr

 Lectionary: 314

Jesus withdrew toward the sea with his disciples. A large number of people followed from Galilee and from Judea. Hearing what he was doing, a large number of people came to him also from Jerusalem, from Idumea, from beyond the Jordan, and from the neighborhood of Tyre and Sidon.

In today's first reading, we hear of the developing rivalry between Saul and David. 
Traditionally we call the former King Saul, but he had neither a capital nor a kingdom. He was a warlord who had gathered  enough rogues, malcontents, and warriors to resist the Philistine overlords; his claim to kingship rested on Samuel's reluctant anointing of him. With God's help, this promising sign might be fulfilled. David was Saul's most successful lieutenant and some of the warriors showed a worrisome preference for him. 

Trouble erupted when "women came out from each of the cities of Israel to meet King Saul, singing and dancing, with tambourines, joyful songs, and sistrums. The women played and sang: “Saul has slain his thousands, and David his ten thousands.”

A similar trouble is erupting around Jesus, as we learn in Mark, chapter 3: 

The Pharisees went out and immediately took counsel with the Herodians against him to put him to death. Jesus withdrew toward the sea with his disciples. A large number of people [followed] from Galilee and from Judea.

In both cases, the faithful who read the scriptures see the obvious. God is directing events and some even among the elect cannot get with the program. 

When we speak of the revelation of God's purposes, we do well to speak of the Holy Spirit. Although the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit act with one will -- indeed they are of one will -- we experience God's immediate presence in our hearts as the Holy Spirit. 

I think of Saint Francis of Assisi. It never occurred to him to challenge kings, bishops, the pope and the entire Church. Nor did he suppose, as he hid from his father in a muddy cave, that he might become the most influential man of the second millennium. But he prayed intensely for divine guidance and the Spirit of God took hold of his willingness. 

We should notice the difference between Saul and David. Although both were powerful warriors, capable commanders and charismatic leaders, Saul would not admit he had sinned against the Lord when Samuel rebuked him. When the prophet Nathan rebuked David for a worse sin of murdering a loyal soldier and taking his wife, the shepherd king immediately admitted his guilt and begged for forgiveness. (Psalm 51) 

Those who ask the Holy Spirit to guide them through the complex and often vicious challenges of our time, must learn from David. We admit we have done wrong; we confess our sins; we atone; and amend our ways. By so doing, we discover the willing Spirit to take up our crosses each day and follow in his steps. 

Wednesday of the Second Week in Ordinary Time

Lake Mount Saint Francis

 Lectionary: 313

Blessed be the LORD, my rock,
who trains my hands for battle,
my fingers for war;
My safeguard and my fortress,
my stronghold, my deliverer,
My shield, in whom I take refuge,
who subdues peoples under me.

One of many slogans of the Twelve Step movement: "The efforts are ours; the results are God's." 

The spiritual life is often compared to combat. Medieval warriors, weary of warfare and its promises of glory, often retreated to the monastery to take up spiritual warfare. They practiced the disciplines of fasting, vigils, prayer, sacred study, and manual labor as if they could fight the Tempter with eternal vigilance. Their example still inspires Christians to keep watch over their selfish impulses by daily prayer and pious conversation. 

The gravest temptation is that of Pelagius, the fourth century English monk. The handsome, young preacher, arriving in Rome, taught gullible Christians that the Lord had finished his saving work when they were baptized. Blessed with restored innocence, they should maintain and defend it against every temptation. The popular heretic stressed human autonomy and freedom of the will. We can avoid sinning and freely choose to obey God's commandments. 

Nor should anyone expect a second chance. Pelagius regarded the Church's practice of restoring sinners to communion as cheap grace. God owes us nothing and will not condone softness. 

Saint Augustine had a much deeper experience of God's mercy and his own human weakness. He personally felt Saint Paul's anguish: 

I discover the principle that when I want to do right, evil is at hand. For I take delight in the law of God, in my inner self, but I see in my members another principle at war with the law of my mind, taking me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Miserable one that I am! Who will deliver me from this mortal body?

Pelagianism leads inevitably to pretense among Christians. Rather than admit their human weakness and  confess their sins to one another or the priest, they must hide and deny their slips, lapses, and outright deceptions. The American preoccupation with appearances is founded on this religious doctrine. We feel compelled to look good in front of others even as we condemn those who don't. Failure, poverty, disappointment, miscalculations: these and other human faults must be hidden lest people think we have lost God's favor. In that rigid way of thinking, God is humorless, arbitrary, and always looking for our picayune failings. 

The virtue of Penance teaches Christians -- and the Sacrament of Penance teaches Catholics -- to lighten up. We sin. We sin often. Our best intentions and sincerest intentions are often sabotaged by human weakness, miscalculation of our strength, and poor preparation. Discovering the love of God flickering in our hearts we throw sacrificial logs onto it, rather than kindling, and smother it. 

With the egg of guilt on our faces, we learn to laugh at our pretensions and accept -- again! -- God's compassionate embrace. Penance shows me the deep abyss of my human helplessness and the infinite depth of God's merciful kindness. 

Penance reminds me that my life is not about me! It's about the Lord. And my story is like David's slaying the giant Goliath, a mighty work. 

Tuesday of the Second Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 312

The LORD said to Samuel: “How long will you grieve for Saul, whom I have rejected as king of Israel? Fill your horn with oil, and be on your way. I am sending you to Jesse of Bethlehem, for I have chosen my king from among his sons.”

Like catastrophes of the past -- World War II, the assassination of JFK, the shuttle disasters, 9-11 -- the onset of the Pandemic is fading away. The normal that we hoped to retrieve after a month or two of quarantine is disappearing like the last car of a train. Political events, technological developments, arts and entertainment, wars, fires, floods, tornadoes: they keep coming. And they keep altering whatever it was we called normal. 

The LORD seems to ask us, How long will you grieve that which will never return? The pandemic felt like a punishment when it began. "It is certainly punishing!" I said to some people who replied that it was not God's wrath. Two years later they're more inclined to agree with me. It feels like punishment. 

What are we learning from this hardship? 

Several epidemics preceded this one: HIV/AIDS, Legionnaire's Disease, the Bird Flu, Ebola, and so forth. When the corona virus hit it was easy to blame a President who was clearly overwhelmed and unprepared to deal with it. His incompetence and mismanagement seemed to exacerbate the trouble. 

But it soon became apparent even to die hard Democrats that this disease was worse than anything we'd experienced before. Even as the medical sciences developed with astonishing, unprecedented speed an effective treatment, we were not prepared to address the spiritual crisis. 

This disease came at the worse possible time for a divided nation. For one thing, we'd forgotten the importance of public health. If we're outliving our ancestors by twenty, thirty, and forty years it's not because our private physicians have better surgeries. Rather, the governments -- federal, state, and local -- have built and maintained the infrastructures that protect us against disease, poisoning, and accidents. How many anagrams should we name to remind us of that? OSHA, FDA, NIH, FHA, HUD, etc. More than I can think of. 

Hospitals and health care workers have been overwhelmed by the pandemic largely because people denied the importance of public health. We must care for one another. But many refuse to cooperate even as many unvaxxed-by-choice die of Covid. Some beg for the shot just before they're put on the ventilators. They exercise their freedom with "No!" They have forgotten how to say, "Yes" and "Thank You."

How long will you grieve? 

The disease has come at the best possible time for a divided nation. It will disappear when we reunite. In his book Upswing, Robert Putnam points to the opportunity to begin rebuilding social cohesion. He recalls the deep economic and social divisions of the Gilded Age, the gradual leveling of America from the 1890's through the Great Depression and two world wars, and the disintegration that began in the 1960's. By that time, social cohesion had suppressed too many individual freedoms and conformity had become unbearable.

 

Religion offers the opportunity to regroup. Our Catholic religion -- because it is catholic -- invites everyone to set aside their cherished opinions and accept the revealed truths of our faith. Clearly, Catholics are not united by our political opinions, economic interests, or racial harmony! Even our languages are diverse. But our Baptism gathers us and our Holy Communion unites us. 

As the year ended, the Church listened to the words of Pope Saint Leo the Great in the Office of Reading. They are worth hearing again: 

So those who are born not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man but of God must offer to the Father the unanimity of peace-loving sons, and all of them, adopted parts of the mystical Body of Christ, must meet in the First-Begotten of the new creation.

He came to do not his own will but the will of the one who sent him; and so too the Father in his gracious favor has adopted as his heirs not those that are discordant nor those that are unlike him, but those that are one with him in feeling and in affection. Those who are remodeled after one pattern must have a spirit like the model.

Memorial of Saint Anthony. Abbot

 Lectionary: 311

But Samuel said: “Does the LORD so delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as in obedience to the command of the LORD? Obedience is better than sacrifice, and submission than the fat of rams. For a sin like divination is rebellion, and presumption is the crime of idolatry. Because you have rejected the command of the LORD,
he, too, has rejected you as ruler.”

In today's first reading we learn of King Saul's tragic flaw. He would not admit his disobedience. Unlike his protege David, he argued with the rebuke the prophet spoke against him. 

His defense is all to common. He and his warriors were doing what everyone does. They were taking the spoils of their victory against the Philistines. And why not? The enemy was dead and had no further use of their armor, weapons, clothing, valuables, house, land, women, or children. To the victor belongs the spoils. When might makes right, ancient, pagan customs prevail. It's only common sense.

Saul and his warriors would justify their spoiling the enemy by offering a tithe to the Lord. They might have said, "That seems fair enough. We'll give God credit with a sacrifice from our surplus loot! Religious traditions should be observed, after all. The gods should be placated." 

But "the gods" are always projections of our human imagination, and subject to our presumptions, biases, and secret preferences. People might differ about what the gods think, say, or want; but since they don't actually exist, no one will discover the truth of religion. That must be revealed by the God-who-is, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. 

People assume that God wants what is good, and they think they know what is good. Good becomes some kind of eternal, preexisting principle before which even God must bow. But that's not the way it works. 

Daily, as I read the Invitatory Psalm 95 to begin the Office of Readings, I hear the Lord's complaint: 

Forty years I endured that generation

I said they are a people whose hearts go astray

and they do not know my ways.

So I swore in my anger,

they shall not enter into my rest." 

Jesus's parable (of the vineyard workers who thought they should get more for working the entire day in the hot sun) reminds us of God's sovereign rule. The owner told one fellow (only!) that he the owner had every right to give as he chose to give. What they expected of him mattered not a whit. 

We've all had to deal with this issue on a more human level during the pandemic. Each has their own opinions about what is good or best, but to effectively beat Covid 19 we must obey the public health experts who have studied the virus, the history of epidemics and quarantines, and effective ways to mitigate the disaster. Those who do their "research" on the Internet are only looking for reassurance of what they already believe 

God sees the future and God knows his plan, as he revealed through the prophet Jeremiah 

"For I know well the plans I have in mind for you... plans for your welfare and not for woe, so as to give you a future of hope."

When discerning what we should do at any given time, we should eliminate what is evil and then be suspicious of what we want. We should study what we think is good, and then beg the Lord for guidance. 

We never forget that the Holy Spirit led Jesus to Jerusalem and Calvary, and showed us the True Good in the dark mystery of his death and resurrection. Come, Holy Spirit!