Feast of Saint James, Apostle

 Lectionary: 605

You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them,
and the great ones make their authority over them felt.
But it shall not be so among you.
Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you shall be your servant;
whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave.

Truth is given to us with enormous authority, but with little power. The world often notices that failing and takes advantage of it. "How many battalions does the pope have?" Lenin asked when told that Rome opposed his Communist rule in Russia. 

We have seen the enormous teaching authority of the Church flouted recently in Switzerland when Archbishop Lefebvre's disciples anointed another generation of bishops. Several of those men were anointed without Rome's permission by the late archbishop. Although Pope Benedict lifted the excommunication they had brought upon themselves; they apparently accepted the reconciliation cynically, as if Benedict had admitted Saint John Paul II was wrong. They have taken their disobedience even further from fidelity. But, of course, feel they are treated unjustly. 

The Church can only watch with sadness. We do not, and would not want, the power to force external compliance or internal obedience to the Magisterium of the Church. If the Lord God would not force anyone to obey him, we should never think of it. 

Jesus knew his disciples would flee from the Garden of Gethsemane when his enemies arrested him. And he knew several would return when he rose from the dead. Judas made his decision when he hanged himself. The others took extra time to reconsider. 

What consumers want, consumers get. Whether its abortion, drugs, alcohol, guns, gambling, or the Traditional Latin Mass, providers will be found. Providers and consumers will agree they are well within their rights to sell and purchase these goods. The devout might even cite the Second Vatican Council when they argue that consumers demonstrate sensus fidelium when they split from the Church. Hasn't the United States regarded their democratic mandate to the nations as the right to promote consumer rights and universal shopping? 

Above ourselves, we must love and obey the Truth. She is more beautiful than anyone or anything; and demands more than the world can offer. We must make every sacrifice for her, and in her name. We must go with her wherever she leads. The only external signs we'll ever have of her reliable presence in the world is the Roman Catholic Church and those Orthodox Catholic Churches who are in union with Rome. 

I've told this story before: On a summer day in August, several years ago, while serving as the Catholic chaplain in the VA hospital, a Protestant minister asked what the "Assumption of Mary" meant. When I explained it as simply as I could, without many citations of the Bible, he asked, "Do you believe that?"

I was taken aback. "Of course, I believe it! Why would I not believe it? It's what the Church teaches and what we have always believed. Better minds than mine, with better understanding of scripture, liturgy, and theology have taught it for many centuries. Would I oppose them because I have a right to believe what I feel is right? I may have been born at night, but I wasn't born last night! Of course I believe it!

We must pray for schismatics who name their sect after a canonized Pope. Their consumers will soon recognize the pious arrogance of these bishops and priests, but only some will return to the Church. The rest will be lost; therein lies the tragedy of sectarianism. 

 

Memorial of Saint Benedict, Abbot

Lectionary: 388

So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.
Everyone who acknowledges me before others I will acknowledge before my heavenly Father.

The Prophet Isaiah was understandably terrified when he beheld the Glory of God seated upon His throne of majesty under the ceiling of Jerusalem's temple. And he might have been more terrified when he realized he was the only priest among those who'd entered the chamber who saw the vision, heard the angelic song, and felt the entire building tremble around him. 

He thought as any reasonable person would that he was doomed. Moses had been told, No one sees God and lives. Even the Virgin Mary needed reassurance as Gabriel said, "Do not fear, Mary. You have found favor with God!" 

I met a young priest who was pranked by his mates with a glow-in-dark statue of the Madonna. He saw it there in the dark of his room and threw himself to the floor, praying, "Oh Lord, I hope I don't have to build a chapel on this spot!" 

Whenever the Lord appears in the Bible, he has a reason for doing so. He is sending the seer on a mission or giving a command of some sort. As the wife of Manoah told her cowering husband when they saw the LORD soar into heaven amid the flames of their sacrifice: 

“If the LORD had meant to kill us, he would not have accepted a burnt offering and grain offering from our hands! Nor would he have let us see all this, or hear what we have heard.”

The woman bore a son and named him Samson, and when the boy grew up the LORD blessed him. Judges 13:24

Isaiah was given his mission; and his initiation and vision influenced the entire Bible. He had seen that the God of Abraham and Moses is the only Lord and Creator of the universe: "I am God and there is no other!" 

The six-winged fiery (seraphic) angels as he described them shaped our image of angels; they appear in churches and bedrooms all over the world. When Saint Francis was given a vision of the living Christ Crucified it was on the wings of a seraphic Angel; and he became known as the Seraphic Saint. 

Isaiah's vision and our commission teach us a fear which innoculates us against the fear of men and women. We respect social norms insofar as they are useful, but defy them when the normal would confine the truth to acceptable, safe parameters. Knowing that we have been sent "to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable," we find our comfort in the hope of eternal life; and not in the assurances which this world would use to confine us. Because Jesus warned us, we are wary of society, and maintain the necessary boundaries between our faith and their assumptions. 

And we never forget the fear which initially paralyzed all the seers of the Old and New Testaments. We prefer to bow before God and beg for His mercy to consideration of what others might think. 

Feast of Saint Mark, evangelist

 Lectionary: 555

“Go into the whole world
and proclaim the Gospel to every creature. Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved; whoever does not believe will be condemned...
...they went forth and preached everywhere, while the Lord worked with them and confirmed the word through accompanying signs.

As I understand it was one of Europe's greatest philosophers, Hegel, who assured his fellow citizens that they didn't have to take the Word of God too literally or too seriously. He pointed to the springtime, for instance, as a time of renewed vitality among living things, and that's what resurrection means. It's not, according the philosopher, about someone coming back from the dead and living forever; it's rather the undying, resurgent vitality (geist) which exists briefly in this or that organism. It holds dead matter in a living embrace for a while; and then moves on to form other organisms which also return to the earth from which they are made. In other words, you won't live forever but your spirit will. And so Easter is well represented by flowers which produce seeds, fertile rabbits, and eggs. 

Hegel admitted that everything dies and no individual is finally saved from that. But life is worth living despite its brevity, especially if you're wealthy, secure, educated, and esteemed by your peers. 

However, the Gospel of Mark takes the Word of God very seriously, and impresses upon the Church its responsibility to every living creature. If it fails, if people do not know the Lord, they are not saved; nor are they saved if they refuse to hear.  

The Gospel comes to us in the form of a cross, comprising an upright and a crossbeam. Both are necessary blessings, neither can be ignored. The horizontal beam extends to the entire world, the vertical upright reaches from the fathomless depths of every human heart to the infinite reaches of heaven. 

But our attention seems to shift back and forth between the vertical and horizontal, Sometimes our attention is fascinated by our duty to praise God and the call to personal penance; sometimes we want to invite everyone who can possibly hear or welcome the Good News. 

Reflecting on the post-war Church and the Second Vatican Council, Pope Benedict XVI suggested that the Traditional Latin Mass represents the mysterious vertical beam; and the vernacular Mass represents the horizontal liturgy which is accessible to everyone. Both can and do speak to everyone who will listen. In both cases, our duties are serious. 

It is wonderful to see surprising numbers of people entering the Church this year through the Order of Christian Initiation of Adults in Europe and North America. We can suppose that millions of people are disenchanted with the false promises of this world with its endless entertainment and relentless exploitation of human and natural resources. Human beings instinctively know we deserve better than what the world offers. We know too, that "our hearts are restless until they rest in God." 

As we celebrate the Feast of Saint Mark, the shortest and perhaps darkest of the Gospel, we welcome the brilliant light it sheds on our call to holiness and our mission to announce the Gospel to every creature. 

Tuesday of the Eighteenth Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 408

Miriam and Aaron spoke against Moses on the pretext of the marriage he had contracted with a Cushite woman.
They complained, “Is it through Moses alone that the LORD speaks?
Does he not speak through us also?”
And the LORD heard this.
Now, Moses himself was by far the meekest man on the face of the earth.

A few years ago, I reflected on the word pretext in this passage from Genesis. Miriam had a quarrel with her brother and used his wife's Cushite origin as a way to attack him; and then she expanded her attack with the real challenge, “Is it through Moses alone that the LORD speaks? Does he not speak through us also?”

The challenge sounds familiar today as an apparent majority of German bishops have challenged Popes John Paul II, Benedict XVI, and Francis' teachings about the ordination of women to the priesthood. Echoing our tradition, the popes insisted that the Church does not have the authority to ordain women. 

The discussion is clouded by the bizarre idea that woman and man are interchangeable names, that with chemicals and surgery a man can become a woman; and a woman, a man. The same people would tell me, "You were assigned as a male when you were born." and I have been asked when I donate blood, "Do you identify as male or female?" "
I answer, "The last time I checked, I was male. I don't identify as anything but a Roman Catholic, Franciscan priest."

I'm sure the German bishops have their reasons for challenging Rome but I suspect that the rights and dignity of women is only a pretext for their true motives.  

In his essay, An Unfamiliar Faith, Fr. Benedict Kiely has described the deeper problem:

A major obstacle, of course, is that many of those charged with leadership in the Church, both clergy and bishops are, in fact, the ones most suffering from the “fatigue of familiarity.”  This fatigue was amply demonstrated during the COVID-19 outbreak. Only a deeply fatigued group of men would have rushed, at that crucial moment, to close churches and deny people the sacraments.

[During the worst days, Mount Saint Francis offered no Sunday Mass even to the friars living here, although they never missed a meal.] 

Suffering this fatigue of unfamiliarity, we can expect to lose the virtues of obedience, poverty, and chastity, followed by faith, hope, and love. 

Fortunately, there is another dynamic, something which American Protestant ministers have long recognized: "Children try to remember what their parents tried to forget." Father Kiely's essay concerns an apparent uptick in religious zeal among young people, both in Europe and North America. 

We can hope the present revival includes a rebirth of wonder in the virtue and vow of obedience, which Saint Francis lauded in his Praise of the Virtues: 

Holy Obedience confounds

every corporal and carnal wish,

binds its mortified body

to obedience of the Spirit

and obedience to one’s brother,

so that it is

subject and submissive

to everyone in the world,

not only to people

but to every beast and wild animal as well

that they may do whatever they want with it

insofar as it has been given to them

from above by the Lord.

Pope Benedict pointed to the marvelous cathedrals and basilicas of Europe and prophesied that these "Gospels in Stone" would draw many back to the Catholic faith. A few weeks ago, I saw thousands of people milling noisily through the Gothic cathedrals in Cologne and Strasbourg. At least some of them might want to know why they were built, by whom, and what drove them to make such efforts. 

With the same confidence we can expect the story of Saint Francis, who was "the meekest man on the face of the earth," to forget their pretexts and return to loyalty, obedience, and solidarity with the Roman Catholic Church. 

Memorial of Saint Benedict, Abbot

 Lectionary: 387

As soon as Joseph saw him, he flung himself on his neck
and wept a long time in his arms.
And Israel said to Joseph, "At last I can die,
now that I have seen for myself that Joseph is still alive."

Like "Israel," many aged and unhealthy people defy death and cling to life as they wait for something to happen; and they can often say what it is. Some want to see one more Christmas, or their eightieth birthday. Others want to see their last grandchild graduate from high school or college. Some have a "bucket list," usually of scenic vistas they want to see, or faraway places to visit. 

Others just refuse to die. They "do not go gently into that good night," but throw themselves into rehabilitation in an effort to regain everything they've lost. Powerful people like Vladimir Putin do not make a will or discuss advance directives. They do not expect to die.

I have known others who were content with their life. If they had regrets, they were, as Frank Sinatra sang, "too few to mention." When I was a hospital chaplain, few patients in the hospital or hospice spoke to me of eternity. Most didn't seem to expect or require it. Although surviving loved ones speak of "going to a better place," the dying were not that interested.    

The sorriest, and most difficult, ones I've seen were the people who made no sacrifices for their health, and seemed to think they would not lose what they did not use. They drank to excess, they smoked, they watched television, they ate whatever they wanted, and bragged, "All this and heaven too!" And then one day, their health went away.  They're the ones who make the most unreasonable demands on their caregivers and families, and refuse every form of spiritual care. 

Jacob, in his final day, learning that his favorite wife's firstborn son was still alive, wanted to see him. He would hold off death until then. His son Joseph, although much younger than his father, also wanted his family back, despite what his brothers had done to him. He saw God's will in their betrayal of him and his miraculous ascent to power, and would hold no grudge against them. Both of their stories end happily; their satisfaction suggests the joy of eternity after a life of fidelity amid sorrow and disappointment. 

The Bible tells us many stories of life well-lived. Heroes from Adam to Saint Paul, patriarchs, warriors (like Samson), and kings (David), seers (Simeon), and prophetesses (Anna) thank God for their satisfaction in what God has done or revealed. They describe a happy death at the end of a life of confusion, distress, and troubles. They may not have expected much, but they were rewarded with much. 

We pray for the time to work out our salvation with fear and trembling. We should use the time we have to seek forgiveness for our transgressions; and then forgive transgressions against us. Who needs baggage in eternity? Like the angels who can fly, we will take ourselves lightly and follow like little lambs the Lamb of God.

Optional Memorial of the Most Holy Name of Jesus

Lectionary: 510/1

When eight days were completed for his circumcision,
the child was named Jesus, the name given him by the angel
before he was conceived in the womb.

 O n the third day of January, Franciscans celebrate the Holy Name of Jesus. The feast fairly leaps out of the Bible at us, especially as we read the Acts of the Apostles and the insistence of Saints Peter and Paul, that, 

"There is no salvation through anyone else, nor is there any other name under heaven given to the human race by which we are to be saved.”

However, appreciation and delight in the name of  Jesus begin with the story of Abraham. The LORD has already led Abram through many adventures as he traveled from Ur, his homeland, to Palestine and Egypt before, in the sixth chapter of his story we find, 

"No longer will you be called Abram; your name will be Abraham, for I am making you the father of a multitude of nations." 

He also changed Sarai's name to Sarah as she would be the only ancestress of the Jewish people, and would not share the privilege with the slave woman Hagar or Hagar's son, Ishmael.  

One's name is more than a handle attached to a human being or their pets. It denotes a relationship; and sometimes a privileged relationship. In college, I knew a woman named Mimi. Everyone called her Mimi, or at least everyone I knew who knew her. And then I met her family who called her Maureen, and her father called her, "Mighty Mo!" And then I knew that she was only Mimi to me. As a guest in that household I could call her that, but I should not use her Dad's name for her. I would never know her as Mo or Maureen; and if I were to meet her again today I would still use the only name I ever knew. 

I too have a nickname from my college years. Only a few know of it and only three or four use it. It carries stories, memories, and connotations of a distant past in Saint Louis, Missouri. Nor could anyone, were they to take an interest in the stories, discover its essence. Were they to try it on me, it would not sound right and I would not know how to answer them.

The disciples, as we read in the Acts of the Apostles, insistently announced, used, and promoted the Name of Jesus. This is in striking contrast to the most sacred name which God gave to Moses in Exodus 3. It's imaged as YHWH, known as the tetragrammaton, and is never pronounced. We don't even know how to pronounce it since the word has no vowels. 

Jesus, the Son of God, never pronounced the name, nor did his disciples, and we do not find it in the New Testament. Pope Benedict XVI urged Catholics not to use the name, and it has since been deleted from recent song books. Some scholars have suggested that Christians explore ways to silently place the unspoken word before our congregations to give us a better grasp of God's supreme holiness. 

But, in any case, Christians have enthusiastically used the name of Jesus in our prayers, songs, catechesis, and conversation. It fills us with delight. (But it hurts when we hear it abused.) The holy name of Jesus is like a sacrament to us; it is a blessing, a song, an invocation, an invitation to know, embrace, relax, and be absorbed in communion with him. Although it is widely used and promoted, it remains for us a privilege to know the Lord so personally and intimately. 

But its greatest ceremony was described by Saint Paul in his Letter to the Philippians:

 

 H ave among yourselves the same attitude that is also yours in Christ Jesus,

Who, though he was in the form of God,

did not regard equality with God something to be grasped.

Rather, he emptied himself,

taking the form of a slave,

coming in human likeness;

and found human in appearance,

he humbled himself,

becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross.

Because of this, God greatly exalted him

and bestowed on him the name

that is above every name,

that at the name of Jesus

every knee should bend,

of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth,

and every tongue confess that

Jesus Christ is Lord,

to the glory of God the Father.

Memorial of Saint Benedict, abbot

 Lectionary: 386

Whatever town or village you enter, look for a worthy person in it,
and stay there until you leave.
As you enter a house, wish it peace.
If the house is worthy,
let your peace come upon it;
if not, let your peace return to you.

I have often used today's reading from the Gospel of Saint Matthew when I bless a house. Although the passage addresses itinerant missionaries, it concerns those who receive them also, as their homes are blessed by those who visit. 

Blessings are necessarily dialectic, dualistic, or double; they cannot exist without a party to give them and another party to receive them.

Saint Benedict recognized the blessings and responsibilities that come with home ownership when he erected his monasteries. He insisted that his monks should practice hospitality, welcoming strangers and wayfarers. When medieval Europe was a continent of warring mini-kingdoms -- many no bigger than a Kentucky county -- ruled by illiterate despots with a few ruffians the monasteries provided safe refuge for pilgrims, migrants, and displaced wanderers. 

They were also places of prayer, learning, and healing. Wiser aristocrats sent their youth to these hostels to learn literacy, manners, and civility. They learned to wash their hands before eating, and to eat with their mouths closed. I read somewhere that monks developed chairs for sitting during their meals. Students learned to appreciate literacy as one member would read during the meals while the others listened. 

And, of course, monks treasured the Word of God, for the peaceful love of God lived in their monasteries despite the horrors that occasionally swept the countryside. Although mendicant friars like Franciscans, Dominicans, Augustians, and Carmelits are known for their missionary efforts, it was the monks who civilized Europe on their way to Asia, Africa, and the Americas. 

Christians and Catholics who remember the Lord's self-description -- "Foxes have holes and birds have nests but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head." -- create safe homes for wayfarers, neighborhoods, burroughs, and cities. Their presence is invaluable as they seek the common good for everyone, regardless of race, religion, or nationality. They are salt for the earth, and a light in darkness. 

Memorial of Saint Anthony of Padua, Priest and Doctor of the Church

Lectionary: 362

You have heard that it was said to your ancestors, You shall not kill; and whoever kills will be liable to judgment. 
But I say to you, whoever is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment,and whoever says to his brother, Raqa, will be answerable to the Sanhedrin, and whoever says, 'You fool,' will be liable to fiery Gehenna.

When Jesus pronounces severe punishment on those who use abusive language, someone might wonder if the punishment is proportionate to the crime. Fiery Gehenna for calling someone a fool to his face? Isn't that pretty severe? 

But here in the United States we have seen a coarsening of the culture; and certain formerly taboo words -- which I dare not cite in this post -- are routinely heard in videos and movies.  

No one should pretend surprise at what we're seeing. A culture of death welcomes abortion as a form of birth control, the proliferation of guns, inadequate care of incarcerated men and women, capital punishment, the acceptance and normalization of suicide, and coarse language. We should assume there is far more unseen violence in the homes of vulnerable adults and children.

Jesus condemns violent language with extremely severe language because that's where it starts. Verbal abuse accompanies emotional, physical, and sexual abuse. 

And reverence for life begins with reverence for words and their meaning. Christians, Muslims, and Jews honor the names of God. Jews do not enunciate the Tetragrammaton, and Pope Benedict XVI urged Catholics to refrain from speaking and singing that sacred name. Christians revere the name of Jesus. When Muslims pronounce God's name they recite a litany of blessings with it. Where Jews were forbidden to take the name of the Lord in vain, Christians are commanded not to swear at all. When you mean yes, say yes; and when you mean no, say no. Anything more is from the evil one. (Matt 5:37)

As a teenager working in my uncle's shop, I was already familiar with most swear words. But I was surprised to notice the men I worked with rarely used them. I heard it only among the adults who were acting like children, and the children who were acting like adults. Both groups announced their immaturity. 

I learned that such language is below the dignity of those created in God's image, and those who are called to be like God. 

Tenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 89

"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.

There is some mystery about Jesus’s family, and it’s been around for centuries. Several years ago, Dan Brown exploited the enigma with his book – and a movie – The Davinci Code. Was Mary Magdalene the Lord’s wife? Perhaps his descendants are still among us with their ancestral seed of divinity. 

That’s nonsense, of course, but some mystery about the family of Jesus remains. We get a glimpse of it in today’s passage from the Gospel according to Saint Mark. 

Saint Luke says some of his family were with the Lord as he died on Calvary; and they were there with his Mother and the disciples at Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit descended upon all of them. Saint James, often called “the brother of the Lord," was one of the three closest apostles to Jesus during his ministry; he appears often with Peter and John. 

It would have made sense to a lot of people that the leader's family should inherit his leadership. The Church was never a democracy; perhaps it should have been a monarchy with a royal family to govern it.

The Fourth Gospel says nothing about the Lord’s family except that his mother was with him at Cana and on Calvary. His brothers (or cousins) are conspicuously absent in the Gospel of John, and we might ask, “Why is that?” 

Some scholars speculate that the family of Jesus tried to rule the early Church. And that’s why we hear an ugly story about them in today’s Gospel. Saint Mark didn’t like them. As he tells the story, long before his crucifixion and resurrection, the family were embarrassed by his campaign and tried to stop him.  

“When his relatives heard of this they set out to seize him, for they said, "He is out of his mind." 

Apparently there were still conflicts with his brothers forty years after Pentecost. And that’s why we hear today – twenty centuries later – a parable about a divided house. A divided church cannot stand. 

But we must look deeper into this mystery of Jesus Christ Crucified. Saint Mark consistently described Jesus as a lonely prophet. Although the Lord had disciples, they did not understand him or his teaching, they were too overwhelmed by his authority to ask him questions; and when he was arrested, they fled. He was harassed by his family, by other rabbis, by Pharisees, Sadducees, and Herodians. The establishment in Jerusalem – the priests, lawyers, and Levites – despised him, and the Roman authorities finally ordered his killing. He was causing too much trouble, and Rome hated trouble. 

Saint Mark tells the story of a lonely prophet who found no sympathy in heaven or earth. His abandonment was total. 

And the Holy Spirit has told us – through the Church – that his sacrifice would not be complete, finished, or consummated without his total abandonment. He had to suffer unbearable physical pain, psychological abandonment, and spiritual desolation. 

His cry, "My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?" was the cry of a man from the infinite distances of an Ontological Universe. He spoke for all of us – "Why have you abandoned us?" – for we have all known his loneliness, desperation, and desolation. Somewhere, very far away, far beyond our human comprehension, a silent God the Father was listening for his cry of despair, he heard him, and saved him.

“In the days when he was in the flesh, he offered prayers and supplications with loud cries and tears to the one who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverence. Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered; and when he was made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him. (Hebrews 5:7-9) 

The Church has had to learn a hard lesson from these stories of Jesus and his family, and Jesus and His Father. We must stand together; we must believe in and support one another, for a divided house cannot stand. When he talks about Satan’s house – a house divided – he tells us where our conflicts come from. 

We must stand together, and we must stand with the Lord who is truth and goodness and justice and mercy. We cannot abandon the truth in pursuit of solidarity. That would only copy the ways of the world, the ways of the priests, levite, lawyers, Sadduccees, Herodians, and Pharisees. There is no salvation there. 

The conflict in the early Church between Jesus’s family and the rest of the Church was resolved when everyone recognized Saint Peter and his successors as the true Family of Jesus. They remembered what he said when his family tried to contain him: 

"Who are my mother and my brothers?"
And looking around at those seated in the circle he said,
"Here are my mother and my brothers.
For whoever does the will of God
is my brother and sister and mother."

Saint James, the brother of the Lord, was the first to recognize and honor Peter. The Acts of the Apostles, chapter 15, tells us how he recognized that the Holy Spirit was leading the Church into uncharted territory through his revelation to Saint Peter. 

It was clearly God’s will that the Church should. be led by the Papacy; we must remain loyal to the Pope, whoever he might be at the moment. You might not like Pope Francis, or Benedict, or John Paul, or Paul VI; but you cannot walk away from the Church and its pope and remain faithful to Jesus. 

We stand together with the Pope in one Church as the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit stand together as one God. Either we are saved together as Church, or we are not saved at all. 

*********

P.S. We hear the story of Adam's betrayal every third year, and many preachers miss the Divine Author's irony entirely. I wrote an alternate interpretation of that passage several years ago. If you'd like to understand today's first reading better, try this suggestion from 2018.

Wednesday of the Seventh Week of Easter

Lectionary: 299

Lifting up his eyes to heaven, Jesus prayed, saying:
“Holy Father, keep them in your name
that you have given me,
so that they may be one just as we are one.

As his final evening passed into night and the fatal hour approached, Jesus prayed to his Father for the Church, "that they may be one just as we are one." 

Perhaps the oldest and most fundamental question in philosophy concerns "the many and the one." If America is divided today between conservative and liberal opinions, much of the controversy concerns whether the nation stands together as one or finds its true mission in promoting individual liberties. Are we many individuals or one nation? If we must do both, how is it possible? 

The Roman Catholic Church also struggles with that question. Are we many disciples of Jesus or one Church?

I grew up in an era that leaned heavily toward creativity and the free expression of the individual. In the 1960's, my mentors, young priests, were breaking free of a rigid observance of the rubrics. Some regarded the Mass as a personal expression of their love of God, an artistic event which they offered before their congregations. 

Pope Saint John Paul II, coming from behind the Iron Curtain of Communism, called for greater discipline among the artistic priests; and the German theologian, Pope Benedict XVI, maintained that direction. But, as any teacher will tell you, it's easier to relax discipline than to tighten it, and energetic private devotions threaten to overwhelm the Church's liturgy.  

I cringe when a Mass presider offers two, three, or more homilies during "his Mass." Some speak at length, telling us what we already know, that today is Sunday. Do they think with many words they will be heard? 
Others lead as if the congregation is not in Church, finishing the Sign of the Cross with Amen, and even the greeting with, "And with your spirit."
I wonder, "Why am I here if you're going to take my parts?"

Still others like to throw in a Hail Mary during the Mass, or some other private prayer. It seems to me that this personal devotion, so much on display, gets in the way of his leading us in prayer. 

But anyone who has attended my Mass will certainly point out some of my own idiosyncrasies which have startled and bothered others. Even a strict obedience to the rubrics may be nothing more than a demonstration of one's slavish adherence to The Rules. 

Can one disappear among the many, and trust the Priestly People to worship God with one heart and mind and soul? At the end of his Seven Story Mountain, Father Louis, (known to the world as Thomas Merton) exulted in wearing the Trappist habit and being indistinguishable in a gathering of monks. But his individuality often stuck out like a sore thumb among his confreres.

There is always that tension between the liturgy which is the entire church praying as one, and devotion, which means nothing if it's not energized by personal energy and expression. Liturgy invites everyone to forget their personal preferences; they must find meaning and deep satisfaction in the words, songs, and gestures that others have made to express our faith. But liturgy can become overwhelmingly rote, and its meaning may be lost in the weeds of rubrics. Only the most devout will be edified while the majority is bored to tears. 

Beyond the issue of liturgy, there is also our belief. I like to remind people that, "Catholics don't have a choice; we are told what we believe." 

And we study intensely to learn our faith. If we discover something we disagree with in the Catholic tradition, we ask the questions and do the research to find out where we're wrong. We struggle to learn the deep truth which may be hidden to our cultural preferences. 

Yes, men and women stand equally before God, but without the differences which set them apart no one can complete the wholeness of their being. Similarly, there can be no Church without priests. Nor is the world saved if no one is set apart. 

The mystery of one and many is resolved only in the Trinity. The many become one by fidelity to, and love of truth It is a challenge, a threat, and a blessing as we hear the Lord pray, "that all may be one." 

Thursday of the Third Week of Easter

Lectionary: 276

I am the living bread that came down from heaven;
whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my Flesh for the life of the world."

Saint John's Gospel uses a dozen variations on the Lord's "I am" statements. They come in two forms, "I am he;" and "I am the....." They anchor our understanding of the Lord, his identity, and his mission. They define our relationship to him. 

In his expression, "I am the bread of life," we hear his insistence that we cannot expect any kind of life without him. We must have bread. It was the staple of life in the biblical mid east as rice is for billions of Asians today; and meat, for Americans. We cannot imagine life without this staple; we would not want to live without it. 

Pope Benedict XVI wrote in in Post-Synodal Apostolic Exhortation, Verbum Domini:

In his own person Jesus brings to fulfillment the ancient image: “The bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world” [when he insists] “I am the bread of life." Here “the law has become a person. When we encounter Jesus, we feed on the living God himself, so to speak; we truly eat ‘the bread from heaven."

In the discourse at Capernaum, John’s Prologue is brought to a deeper level. There God’s Logos became flesh, but here this flesh becomes “bread” given for the life of the world, with an allusion to Jesus’ self-gift in the mystery of the cross, confirmed by the words about his blood being given as drink. The mystery of the Eucharist reveals the true manna, the true bread of heaven: it is God’s Logos made flesh, who gave himself up for us in the paschal mystery. 

The Lord's "I am" is challenging and persistent. While some might read it as an imposition or an invasion, believers hear the Lord's eager, joyous, generous concern for us. He knows himself, and we must know him, as the foundation of everything we know and believe. 

Our experience of life begins in God's self-sacrificing love for us. We must eat his flesh and drink his blood if we would have life. 

Catholics in the United States are preparing for a Eucharistic Congress. Readers like me who want some historic background to anything, can find two timelines of international and American congresses from 1881 in Lille France to 2024 in Indianapolis. One major event occurred near Chicago, Illinois in 1926; very close to our Franciscan "National Shrine of Saint Maximilian Kolbe" at Marytown. 

The Eucharist represents a challenge and invitation especially to an American culture that isolates and lionizes individuals. Even our technology isolates us as we abandon the TV in the family room to privately search the Internet for entertainment and views to suit our particular tastes and opinions. But that momentum began when we refitted our theaters for movies. Actors on the silver screen cannot hear the cheers, applause, or catcalls of the audience; their only reward is money.  

The Eucharist calls us back to the Church where a real flesh-and-blood priestly people worship the living God with their priest or bishop. Children learn the sanctuary is not a stage and they're not there to be entertained. A living priest will insist that the congregation respond with "Amen" and "And with your spirit!" Everyone will recite the Lord's Prayer together with one voice, one mind, and one heart. They will receive the precious Body from the hands of ministers, and the precious Blood from a common chalice. 

The old people in the congregation will remind the children that we have been gathering like this -- often in this very building -- for many generations. History didn't begin when you were born! Nor can you know the meaning of these prayers without the stories of saints, sinners, and martyrs from prehistoric times right up till today. 

The Mass insists that Jesus is the Bread of our Life. It defies that heresy that teaches every man for himself without regard for women or children. It teaches us that we belong to one another and to the Lord -- or we have no life. And certainly, none worth living. 

Memorial of Saint Benedict, Abbot

 Lectionary: 384

Then some man wrestled with him until the break of dawn. When the man saw that he could not prevail over him, he struck Jacob's hip at its socket, so that the hip socket was wrenched as they wrestled.
The man then said, "Let me go, for it is daybreak."
But Jacob said, "I will not let you go until you bless me."
The man asked, "What is your name?"
He answered, "Jacob."
Then the man said,
"You shall no longer be spoken of as Jacob, but as Israel, because you have contended with divine and human beings
and have prevailed."

Footnotes in the "New American Bible revised edition" explain that the name Israel combines two Hebrews words. "El" means "god," a generic word for any god; and "isra-" suggests saritha, meaning “you contended." Or, "you struggled with god." 

Walter Brueggemann, in his two volume commentary on Isaiah, writes: 

[Jerusalem] is regarded as the center of Yahweh's peculiar attentiveness, as the seat of the world's best hopes for well-being, and as the site of the most profound disobedience and recalcitrance. Jerusalem is taken in this tradition as an epitome of Yahweh's creation, which owes its life to Yahweh, and which seeks with great resourcefulness to have a life other than the one Yahweh would give. 

Israel, then, is the right name for Jews and Christians, for everyone who claims to know the Lord engages in that endless struggle with God and ourselves.  

The struggle begins with our own bodies as we know we should be more attentive to our physical need for discipline. I should take better care of myself, and yet I don't. Everything from my posture to my periodic checkups is slack. I eat the wrong foods and drink the wrong drinks; I neglect exercise, stay up too late, and stay abed too long. And the older I get the more attention I should pay to my long-suffering, rebellious body. 

Secondly. the mind also needs discipline or it grows slack. I need less entertainment and more study if I would understand my complex, bewildering world. I should know my faith tradition so much better. When I finished school, the commencement speaker told us we should spend the rest of our lives making up for what we had failed to learn. Commencement, we were told, signals the beginning of your education, not its conclusion.  

Finally, the Spirit, Jesus remarked, "is willing but the flesh is weak." We may hope for salvation but we're very particular as to how we should be saved, when, and at what price. It's my way or no way! We wish the Lord would come rescue us but are unwilling to get in the boats he sends us. 

Abraham saw the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. I think that apparent footnote in Genesis is really important. He saw that, if he were to be the elect of God, he must do more than comply. He must love and obey the Lord; he must accept -- and more than accept, welcome! -- the friendship of God. He must be the spouse who honors and obeys. Perhaps this willingness came more easily to the sanguine Abraham, and perhaps Jacob/Israel was truculent by nature. He would grow more docile in his old age as, weakened by disappointment and grief, he would allow himself to be carried into Egypt. 

When morning came, the unnamed stranger admitted he could not defeat Jacob. Though overpowered and clearly bested the Patriarch would not surrender. He would limp with sciatic pain the rest of his life but would not be defeated. His only concession was to be called by a new name, one which recognized his unending contest with the LORD. 

We also keep up the struggle, and especially with ourselves. Though wisdom encourages us and common sense insists, we still wrestle with God. And the LORD understands. 

Memorial of Saint Benedict, Abbot

Lectionary: 389

“Whoever receives you receives me,
and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me.
Whoever receives a prophet because he is a prophet
will receive a prophet’s reward,
and whoever receives a righteous man
because he is righteous 
will receive a righteous man’s reward.
And whoever gives only a cup of cold water
to one of these little ones to drink
because he is a disciple–
amen, I say to you, he will surely not lose his reward.”

Today, as we celebrate the great Abbot Saint Benedict, the Gospel reminds us of hospitality, the eager willingness to receive others into our neighborhoods, churches, homes, and lives. And, in the wake of the SCOTUS Dobbs decision, we ponder again our willingness as a nation to receive infants with all their promises and all their demands. Despite the claims of many, that willingness cannot be contained or limited by the few child-bearing women among us. Child bearing and rearing are universal responsibilities and universal privileges. 

As the oldest of ten children I well remember my mother's discomfort during her pregnancies. She shared that discomfort in more ways than one; and her husband and children suffered with her. But we also welcomed each newborn with delight, and received them as emissaries from God. Their wishes were our commands. I have watched my sisters and brothers receive their children with the same eager hospitality. 

The scriptures recognize only some restrictions to our hospitality; more often they describe the readiness we should practice. That welcome includes the aid of the Good Samaritan on the road to Jericho. It is as eager as Phillip who ran alongside the chariot to ask what the Ethiopian eunuch was reading. It remembers Abraham's courtesy to three strangers as he rested by the Oak of Mamre, and Sarah's response when she heard their pronouncement. (She laughed, and named the child laughter.) 

If our hospitality may be limited, I find this helpful advice in 2 Corinthians 8: 12-15

For if the eagerness is there, it is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what one does not have; not that others should have relief while you are burdened, but that as a matter of equality your surplus at the present time should supply their needs, so that their surplus may also supply your needs, that there may be equality. As it is written: “Whoever had much did not have more, and whoever had little did not have less.” 

The principle is as simple as the water which seeks its own level between connected chambers. 

Many will argue this much generosity is simply unrealistic, it can never happen. But neither is our guarded restraint realistic. We have only to witness the endemic violence that afflicts every nation and age. Is that not a consequence of our unwillingness to trust the ever-resourceful Providence of God? Pope Francis reminds us of our unnatural waste when he cites the natural world. It recycles and reuses every element and every chemical endlessly. Nothing goes to waste in our world except human life and the structures we make. 

There on the American dollar is the eye within the triangle, 

a symbol of God's providence. Were the artists who proposed it and the Congress who approved it intentionally cynical about our trust in God. Perhaps the Enlightened Founders believed in the ideal but did not believe it should be realized. It was no more than an ideal: pretty, charming, and useless. 

Confronted with the biblical principle of radical trust in God and a corresponding hospitality to others we should not argue about ideals and reality. Rather we must confess our sinful unwillingness. "Yes, I believe that in God all things are possible, but I have not chosen to live that way." 

There is shame in sin; there is no shame in confessing our sins and turning to God for help. In God's spirit we can do better today. I can do better today. 

Optional Memorial of Saint John Fisher, bishop and martyr and Saint Thomas More, martyr

 Lectionary: 373

Standing by the column, the king made a covenant before the LORD that they would follow him and observe his ordinances, statutes and decrees with their whole hearts and souls, thus reviving the terms of the covenant which were written in this book. 
And all the people stood as participants in the covenant.

The Church has a long history of reforms, and historians tell us the Protestant Reformation, beginning in 1517, was neither the first nor the last. Reforms can come from the top but they're usually from the bottom. The Spirit selects a few people to generate a new idea, practice, or prayer; and their spontaneous initiative catches and spreads to other communities. It's an idea whose time has come; it responds to a need that has become apparent and demanding. Eventually, the small initiative may gather enough momentum to force the authorities to deal with it. Some, like first Friday (Sacred Heart) devotions and Mercy Sunday, will enjoy the sponsorship of the Pope for the universal church. 

The Second Vatican Council initiated a long overdue reform from the top; it resembled the Fourth Lateran Council and the Council of Trent in that respect. In top down reforms, the pope with the bishops may recognize a lack of uniformity in the universal church as national churches go their own way, each unaware of and indifferent to other nations. Their differences may be caused by the wealth gap, by ideological isolation, or by cultural developments. Or there may be a widespread malaise which is masked by superficial enthusiasms. Their zeal is little more than nationalism. A top down reform calls the Church together again; we must remember and recognize the Sacraments which belong to all nations. 

Pope Benedict, sharing the same discomfort of his predecessor Saint John Paul II, called for a top down "mini-reform" when he insisted that all the English speaking churches should read the same translation of the one Roman Missal, a Latin text. Seventeen different translations only confused the Church. If not everyone knows the meaning of consubstantial, they can learn it! He might have been remembering the Emperor Constantine's edict that all Christians must celebrate Easter as one congregation on the same day -- the first Sunday after the first full moon after the vernal equinox. Anyone anywhere can figure that out, unless they're on Mars. 

Our first reading today recalls an Old Testament, top down reform when King Josiah (641-609 BCE) heard the words of the Law and recognized their authority. The history is complex and uncertain but the Bible indicates that David's descendants had promoted idolatry in Solomon's Temple. If these practices were a form of compromise to appease the pagan elements in Judah, they could neither please the Lord nor assure the city's long term security. When God's Holy City becomes a city like every other city, a salt without saltiness, it must be trampled underfoot. 

We hear this story as a warning to keep the faith and be renewed each day by our study of God's Word. We are a people peculiarly God's own. Josiah apparently heard the Book of Deuteronomy, or a text that would inspire Deuteronomy. It is rich with blessings for those who keep the faith, and rife with threats for those who fail. "Choose life!" the Book urges, and we choose to live by God's Incarnate Word and the Spirit he breathes into us. 

The Nativity of the Lord (Christmas) Mass during the Day

 Lectionary 16

Break out together in song,
        O ruins of Jerusalem!
    For the LORD comforts his people,
        he redeems Jerusalem.
    The LORD has bared his holy arm
        in the sight of all the nations;
    all the ends of the earth will behold
        the salvation of our God.

"Everyday is Christmas," some like to say, or, "Everyday should be Christmas." The cheerfulness, generosity, and pleasantries of this season should be our typical, everyday modes. 

I am not entirely comfortable with the sentiment as it might provide an excuse for ignoring this most sacred day altogether. But I get it too, and I might use it for a conversation starter: How can we practice this spirit every day of the year?

The obvious answer is religion. I meet former Catholics who tell me they don't agree with the Church about some of its teachings. I answer, "Being Catholic is not agreeing to an idea or any set of ideas. Being Catholic is membership in Jesus Christ." It is a daily practice, a weekly ritual and an annual observance. 

Being Catholic begins first thing in the morning with what you wear. When I search for someone listed as Catholic and I see the chain and a medallion on his chest, I know I have found my patient. It may be a cross, crucifix, or a medal of Mary, Saint Michael, Anthony, or Benedict. It's often sterling silver, sometimes brass or gold. They wear this Catholic symbol summer and winter, in bed and at work, in the shower and under layers of clothing. There is usually a story with the item because our religion is comprised of stories. 

Many Catholics add to their clothing a rosary, which is always in their pocket or purse. "Don't leave home without it!" If some Americans are armed and fearful, Catholics are more prepared to pray. (I was recently awarded a license to carry a rosary!) The rosary is a ready companion during the morning commute; it is the goodnight kiss at bedtime. 

Because we eat every day, Catholics pray every day. It may begin with the "Morning Offering;" it may end with an Act of Contrition. Every meal is graced with prayer. 

I recommend the Liturgy of the Hours to anyone who is serious about prayer. This tradition is just as fresh and inspiring today as it was to Counter-Reformation missionaries, medieval monks, and the seventy-two disciples of Jesus. It flows in  an unbroken stream from the Jewish customs of daily temple and synagogue worship. 

The Liturgy of the Hours is complicated and sometimes confusing with many options, but that keeps it interesting as we practice it year after year, decade after decade. And modern technology provides many helpful guides. 

Plus, because it is liturgy and the prayer of the whole church, the devout can join communities of prayer in their local parish, by telephone, or online. This is a prayer of the entire earth. The Hours have standard editions which make it easy for everyone to join at a moment's notice. 

Many Catholics find simplified versions of the Hours like the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Saint Francis, or Jesus and Mary.

And, of course, daily Mass for those who are retired or can manage their schedules. The Church celebrates Mass every day, why not attend? It's what we do. The Bishops of the United States have called for a renewal of devotion to the Blessed Sacrament among Catholics, and have published an important statement called, THE MYSTERY OF THE EUCHARIST IN THE LIFE OF THE CHURCH. Be the first in your parish to read it!  

I should add that a Catholic home looks like a Catholic home with images of Mary, the Saints, and other symbols. People festoon their homes with symbols of every sort, from anodyne Walt Disney characters to diabolical fiends. What do people see in your home? 

Some people insist they are spiritual, not religious, But when I ask, "How do you DO your spirituality? " they say nothing.  As there is no body without a soul, there is no spirit without a religion of some sort, but many are misleading and some are downright evil. Our Catholic Church is guided by the Holy Spirit, who is God. 

How do you DO your Catholic? A new year begins in seven days. Let us prepare the Way of the Lord.