A strong city have we;
he sets up walls and ramparts to protect us.
Open up the gates
to let in a nation that is just,
one that keeps faith.
A nation of firm purpose you keep in peace;
in peace, for its trust in you."
Today's readings from Isaiah and Matthew invite us to consider the infrastructure of our faith, the rock on which we build our lives.
When the early Church pondered the mystery of Christ they were astounded that God would enter human history as an infant child, mature into adulthood, and begin his ministry as a man. They were even more amazed that the Lord and Creator of all should die on a cross, in the most horrible, humiliating fashion, to be raised up and revealed as our Savior.
The whole incredible story, as astonishing as it is, is summed in the word incarnation, the enfleshing of the Word of God.
The mystery is just as challenging today as it was then. Whereas the ancients were not especially surprised that a deity might have certain human characteristics -- greed, lust, pride, resentments, etc. -- people today think, "If there is a God there shouldn't be, and if he must exist he certainly should not get involved in human affairs." They want a godless world, and a worldless god.
But God has stepped into our world and, just as he required a human body when he was born of Mary, he requires a human institution to preserve his presence today.
At one time some overzealous Catholics insisted, "There is no salvation outside the Catholic Church." That has never been even close to official teaching, but it is true that, "There is no salvation without the Church." If we lose faith, the saving death and resurrection of Jesus will be forgotten and lost forever. His passion and death will have been in vain.
That is a threat looming over the earth in every generation, and the Church always feels the challenge. It's not simply a matter of keeping up appearances; we must be here, a REAL PRESENCE in human affairs. Our fidelity must be integrated with our deepest urges. It must appear in our thoughts and deeds, the fruit of our hopes and prayers.
And we have the assurance of the Holy Spirit, which is the dedication and energetic zeal of God himself. The Spirit of God continues to draw people into our communion.
Blessed John dun Scotus explained it as a blessing and grace which God gives to his Church. Even when we seem to be failing catastrophically the Lord might place his finger upon a single word or deed, blessing it and making it superabundantly fruitful. Believers may die in utter frustration, convinced that nothing they said or did made any difference to anyone. "The world," they might say, "is not a better place for our having been here." But the Spirit of God will always have the last word and a resurrection follows every blessed failure.
So we teach our children our faith; we welcome the stranger, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, house the homeless, tend the sick, visit the imprisoned and continue to build up the invisible "Kingdom of God," never knowing what might come of it. So long as we do these good works in God's name they are built like a house on rock. They do not collapse.
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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.