Memorial of Saint Benedict, Abbot

Lectionary: 386

Without cost you have received; without cost you are to give.
Do not take gold or silver or copper for your belts;
no sack for the journey, or a second tunic,
or sandals, or walking stick.
The laborer deserves his keep.

Jesus describes a radical form of economy that should prevail in his Church: give freely because you have received freely.

When we consider the dependence of our earliest years, when we were totally unable to pay for our food, warmth, shelter, protection, nurturing, education and so forth: we have to admit we received freely indeed. Our parents gave to us and could not reasonably expect any return, at least not for a very long time. Their giving was inspired by the animal instincts common to every species. (And often across species; just watch how women coo and gurgle over baby ducks, dogs, cats and other adorable creatures.) They gave freely and generously, often until it hurt.

Jesus wants us to enjoy that kind of economy – that giving and receiving -- not only in our families; it should pervade the Church. Saint Luke describes that model prevailing in the Jerusalem church for a while:

They devoted themselves to the teaching of the apostles and to the communal life, to the breaking of the bread and to the prayers. Awe came upon everyone, and many wonders and signs were done through the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their property and possessions and divide them among all according to each one’s need. Every day they devoted themselves to meeting together in the temple area and to breaking bread in their homes. They ate their meals with exultation and sincerity of heart, praising God and enjoying favor with all the people. And every day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.

This ideal community did not last long, as Saint Luke tells us. Some of the members cut corners; some horded; and discrimination appeared as Jewish widows were treated better than gentile widows. "Awe" gave way to cynicism and the members had to agree on new structures of authority and stricter rules. Eventually their ceremony of "breaking bread" would be not a full meal but a tightly defined Mass such as we celebrate today. The Church realized that a utopian society cannot survive in this world; we must wait for the Second Coming. 

But there were other, more disciplined experiments and that's where today's Saint Benedict (480-547 AD) comes in. For centuries small groups of celibate men and women, attempting to live the Gospel Life in its purity, had created hermitages and monasteries outside the cities, in the "wilderness." Without the burdens of marriage and children, they found they could live with fewer possessions and in stricter obedience to their elected authorities. 

Saint Benedict did not write the first "rule" for these communities but his has proved to be the most successful. It describes a marvelously balanced way of life, recognizing that people are inclined to sin but called to atonement and forgiveness; that they can and must pray without ceasing; and they can give what they have and receive what they need with faith in God's providential mercy. 

To this day Benedictine monks and nuns stand as testimony to the Church that the ideals of the Gospel are not unrealistic or unattainable. Their discipline reminds us that every Christian must take up the cross daily and follow in Jesus' steps; their simplicity reminds us we can do with less of this world's goods and less of this world's security; their willingness to live together in a close, highly regimented society reminds us that we must forgive one another seventy-times seven times. It's not an easy life and it's not supposed to be. 

My family, May 25, 1975
Day 2 of my priesthood

Saint Benedict assures us that no one in Jesus' Church gets a free ride but everyone's needs can be addressed and met. Like the Church in Jerusalem we can still devote ourselves to the teaching of the apostles and to the communal life, to the breaking of the bread and to the prayers.

Memorial of Saint Benedict, abbot

http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/071112.cfm

Jesus sent out these Twelve after instructing them thus,
"Do not go into pagan territory or enter a Samaritan town.
Go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.
As you go, make this proclamation: 'The Kingdom of heaven is at hand.'"

As we celebrate the Feast of Saint Benedict we should remember one of the paradoxes of church history: monks are very effective missionaries. Thomas Cahill, in his book, How the Irish Saved Civilization, tells the story of the educated, sophisticated monks who traveled from Ireland during the latter half of the first millennium. Saint Columban is perhaps the best remembered. At the ripe age of fifty he set out for the continent with a hardy group of men. They established several monasteries in France and Italy. Because he spoke the truth as he saw it, he was run out of several regions, only to set up another foundation somewhere else.

The Irish built schools where the illiterate aristocrats – we’d call them war lords or gangsters today – sent their sons to be educated. In the schools they learned to read and write and – at least as important – table manners, etiquette and deportment. Eventually, the Columban rule would be set aside in preference to Saint Benedict’s, but his influence survives to this day.

The students who flocked to the monasteries for learning also encountered Jesus Christ and his peaceful gospel. Evangelization – proclaiming 'The Kingdom of heaven is at hand'"-- is not something that happens overnight. It doesn’t even happen in one or two generations. Try thousands of years! The gospel must sink into the stone foundations of the earth, and rise in magnificent cathedrals. Even those who believe they are irreligious experience the civilizing, Christian effects of the schools.

People think of monks and nuns as isolated, out-of-touch and apparently idle. More often they are well-read, very well connected and industrious. Where they settle they build and stay and influence their neighbors for hundreds of years.

They demonstrate peace by their manner of life. Indeed the monastery is a factory of peace. You might think it’s easy to withdraw to a life of solitude but try sitting next to an older person in the chapel, in the dining room, the study hall, and the workroom for fifty years – who continually sniffles, or itches and scratches, or smells of various noxious gases. Try to admire this Christian as better than yourself, as persona Christi. After a while you will cry, “With man it is impossible but not for God. With God all things are possible. Or at least you hope so.

For many centuries and, hopefully, until the end of time, the Church is warmed by the furnace of prayer we know as monasteries.

Saint Benedict, with his precious Rule, taught the world what it means to be Christian. And every Christian, whether he knows it or not, sits at his feet.  

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 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. 

Feast of Saint Joseph, the husband of Mary

A week before the feast of the Annunciation, which is nine months before Christmas, we celebrate Saint Joseph in his role as the husband of Mary and foster father of Jesus.The protector of Mary and Jesus, patron saint of carpenters and our Holy Father Pope Benedict XVI, might also be the patron saint of dreamers.

He was named after the eleventh son of Jacob, who was sold into slavery, descended into a dungeon and ascended to the Pharaoh’s right hand. Joseph the Patriarch learned through the betrayal of his family, the humiliation of slavery, and the despair of prison to rely totally on the mercy of God. He could turn to no one else, nor could he imagine that God was leading him along this tortuous path to a position of such power that he would save his faithless family from starvation.

But he had his dreams and his God-given ability to interpret dreams. You’ll recall that Joseph’s first dream caused him endless heartache. When he told his brothers of how he saw their sheaves of grain bowing down to honor his, they understood what he apparently did not – that he would rule them someday.

Despite that bad experience Joseph interpreted dreams for his fellow jailbirds and came to the attention of the Pharaoh, who appointed him to manage the astonishing wealth of Egypt.

Our saint was named after the patriarch Joseph; he had the same gifts of political astuteness and dreams. You remember that an angel appeared in his sleep and told him to take Mary as his wife; a second time, urging him to take her and the Child into Egypt; a third time, to move back to Judea; and finally, to settle in Nazareth. First he saw what was happening around him; then he prayed and waited and “slept on it” and acted.

Using the psychological language of today, Joseph trusted his intuitions. He paid attention to the political scene and to his hunches. He may not have always known why he was doing the right thing, but he did them anyway and God was with him.

Blessed John Duns Scotus, the great Franciscan theologian, taught that we can know Truth not only by our senses and the scientific method that organizes sensible knowledge, but also by our intuitions. Sometimes we grasp the right thing to do and we do it, and if anyone asked “Why did you do that?” we can only reply, “The Holy Spirit spoke to me!”

My friend Father Germain used to say, “The Holy Spirit grabbed my tongue and would not let me speak!”

Saint Augustine said, “Love God and do what you want.” When you love God as Joseph and Mary and Jesus did, and want only what God wants, you do what you want with the assurance that this is what God wants.

Of course, sinners that we are, we’re often wrong about God wants and are seduced by our own desires. But we pray that Saint Joseph and all the other saints – that cloud of witnesses that prays around us – will teach us to wait and watch for the will of God to be made manifest.  

Dear Saint Joseph, pray for the dreamers among us. As we cope with the challenges of today help us to be like that other son of Joseph who said, “There are those who look at things they way they are and ask why. I dream of things that never were and ask, “Why not?” 

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.

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. 

Labor Day, 2020

Lectionary: 437

The scribes and the Pharisees watched him closely to see if he would cure on the sabbath so that they might discover a reason to accuse him.

On this Labor Day the scriptures of "Monday of the 23rd Week of Ordinary Time" offer us a story about Jesus's labor on the Sabbath Day. 

Saint John's Gospel gives us a precise justification of his freedom to work, (John 5:19):

Jesus answered and said to them, Amen, amen, I say to you, a son cannot do anything on his own, but only what he sees his father doing; for what he does, his son will do also. For the Father loves his Son and shows him everything that he himself does, and he will show him greater works than these, so that you may be amazed. For just as the Father raises the dead and gives life, so also does the Son give life to whomever he wishes.

Even the Pharisees had to admit that God works on the Sabbath; birth and death are God's particular labors. Babies are normally born when they choose to be born, and people die at any time day or night, regardless of anyone's schedule. If God the Father does these works, then his Son may do the same, including healing hands, which are essential for nearly every kind of work. 

The Bible seems to regard work as problematic since the time of Adam -- 

Cursed is the ground because of you!
In toil you shall eat its yield
all the days of your life.
Thorns and thistles it shall bear for you,
and you shall eat the grass of the field.
By the sweat of your brow
you shall eat bread,
Until you return to the ground,
from which you were taken....

But the Christian dispensation, celebrated by the Church, honors works as an imitation of God and of Christ. Before the Fall, Adam's first job was to name everything, an act which blesses all creatures with human meaning. "Dominion" of the Earth begins with naming. His second chore, with his wife Eve, was to "cultivate and care for" the Garden of Eden. These were delightful duties, as any gardener and many farmers will tell you. 

If the Roman world regarded labor as the work of slaves, a belief which prevails in the United States long after the Civil War, the fifth century Saint Benedict and his monks gratefully accepted the blessings of ora et labora (work and prayer.) Saint Joseph would emerge from the Gospels as the patron and model of industrious labor. 

When Communists began to celebrate May 1 as International Labor Day, the Catholic Church responded with the feast of Saint Joseph the Worker. If we differed on many things, we agreed that labor is a blessing and everyone should be accorded their right to work. (a privilege sadly missing in the American Constitution.)

Since the 1960's we have seen a fading respect for work in the United States. Labor unions struggle to regain influence in a culture which celebrates the individual hero and fails to recognize the community which must support the individual. Many people want better working conditions and better wages but fear to surrender some of their freedom to organized labor. Inevitably, this lack of respect for labor leads to a shrinking middle class and the widening gap between wealth and poverty. One in six American children live in poverty, with inadequate access to education, health care, and security. This cannot be good. 

Hypocritical scribes and Pharisees are still watching closely to see if Christians support the right to work; they will demean the right as socialism or Communism. They often control the financial resources of Catholic and Protestant churches and insist that preachers speak only of "spiritual" matters and leave reality to them. 

On November 3 of this year, Americans again face an apocalyptic decision. Will they vote for the Carpenter's son or the scribes and pharisees?  

Feast of the Chair of Saint Peter, apostle

A night at Knight Arena

Jesus said to him in reply, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah.

For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father.
And so I say to you, you are Peter,
and upon this rock I will build my Church,
and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.

Often throughout the year the Church celebrates our apostolic tradition. Despite two thousand years of tendentious history, the Catholic Church has survived with its leadership intact. We can rightfully claim “apostolic succession” for our pope, bishops and priests. By that we mean Jesus appointed certain leaders to carry on in his place; and those leaders appointed others who appointed others in an unbroken succession to this day. Despite the Great Western Schism when there were two and then three rival claimants to the papacy – a dispute which was settled at the Council of Constance in 1417 – the integrity of Apostolic Succession has been maintained. The Roman Catholic Church is truly the world’s oldest organization, which is no mean feat.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church, paragraph 1087, says:  Thus the risen Christ, by giving the Holy Spirit to the apostles, entrusted to them his power of sanctifying: they became sacramental signs of Christ. By the power of the same Holy Spirit they entrusted this power to their successors. This "apostolic succession" structures the whole liturgical life of the Church and is itself sacramental, handed on by the sacrament of Holy Orders.

Today’s feast, “The Chair of Saint Peter,” celebrates the authority of the pope. Recently, in The Record, the newspaper of the Archdiocese of Louisville, there was a question about receiving communion in the hand. A questioner wondered, If Pope Benedict XVI insists upon giving communion directly to every communicant on the tongue, shouldn’t the whole church conform to his way? 

The columnist responded: Pope Benedict XVI has explained that large crowds of people often attend the Mass in Saint Peter’s Basilica, and not all of them are devout. Some people will receive the Eucharist on the hand, slip it in their wallet, and keep it for a souvenir of “The Pope!” That is a sacrilege almost beyond comprehension; prudence urges the authorities in that shrine to take reasonable steps to avoid such behavior. 

The author also reminded the readers the pope neither wants nor claims to set policy by his own personal preferences. Every priest knows the Mass belongs to the Church and is not a personal expression of his own beliefs. He cannot rearrange its elements, skip some passages or rewrite others to fit his style. Not even if he's the Pope.

The Chair of Peter is the presider’s chair of the whole church, just as every basilica, cathedral, church and chapel has a chair where the priest presides over the liturgy. As the presider calls the whole congregation to worship, the Holy Father calls the entire church together in prayer. As he listens attentively to the word of God while sitting on his chair, the whole congregation listens attentively to the Voice of God in their pews. As the presider speaks from his chair to the congregation (an option not often used but available) so does the Holy Father speak to the entire church from the Chair of Saint Peter. It is another powerful and beautiful sign of our unity before the Throne of our beautiful, all-powerful God.

Feast of the Chair of Saint Peter, Apostle

Lectionary: 535

 Simon Peter said in reply, 

“You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”
Jesus said to him in reply, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father. And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church,
and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.
I will give you the keys to the Kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” 

 

On this feast of the Chair of Saint Peter I still like the essay I wrote last year concerning relics. I pointed to the fascination of relics. A year later, however, I am not convinced a relic should outrank a Lenten weekday, but, as they say in Minnesota, “whatever.” 

Catholics must pause occasionally to ponder the price and privilege of being Catholic, and the gift of the papacy.

Saint John Henry Newman pondered deeply the authority of the Catholic Church and its papacy as he journeyed from Anglicanism to Roman Catholicism. Despite the claims of his English coreligionists, he recognized they were more Protestant than Catholic, and he had serious issues with the whole concept of Protestantism. Can one build a religion around protesting? Can they define themselves by what they’re not, by what they don’t believe, and how they don’t pray?

Personally, I have tried to stop using the expression non-Catholic; it seems derogatory and disrespectful. I would prefer to know my neighbor as Lutheran, Methodist, Presbyterian, Pentecostal, Evangelical, or whatever denomination they prefer. But the military and the VA still regards all non-Catholics except Jews and Muslims as non-Catholics. Christian chaplains are either Catholic or Protestant.

And I have noticed Protestant laity may switch denominations simply by entering the building while converts to Catholicism must go through RCIA before receiving Baptism, Eucharist, or Confirmation. We take our identity and our beliefs seriously. (Protestant ministers, however, often undergo a rigorous scrutiny before they are accepted into another group; and might not be accepted.)

When Saint John Paul II invited religious leaders from the world to join him in prayer for peace, he recognized that the assembled could not exactly pray together. Jews, Muslims, and Christians supposedly worship the same God of Abraham, but many other religions address a different deity, if any. Jews and Muslims do not pray to the Father, through the Son, and in the Holy Spirit. And Protestants, for the most part, do not pray in union with the Most Blessed Virgin Mary and all the saints and angels.

Given the violence each might do to their own identity if they prayed to an alien god, they agreed that every group should pray in their own traditional way while the others listened in respectful silence. This, the Saint hoped, would demonstrate a universal desire for peace among all religions while respecting their differences. (By the way, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, the future Pope Benedict XVI, was pointedly absent from the assembly.)

The feast of the Chair of Saint Peter reminds Catholics of our distinctiveness, and that it does make a difference which church you attend. When people tell me. “It doesn’t matter which church you attend;” I add,” “… if you attend no church.”

Catholics take seriously the authority of the pope, the bishops, and priests. The VA honors our Catholic belief in its willingness to provide priest chaplains because Catholics cannot exercise their First Amendment right to worship without a priest. We must have our sacraments of Eucharist, Reconciliation, and Anointing of the Sick. Catholic military personnel or VA patients deprived of the ministry of a priest are denied their constitutional right to worship.

During this pandemic many Catholics might have forgotten that. They might have learned to prefer the virtual presence of a priest and congregation over the real presence of breathing, perspiring crowds of human beings. They might suppose they can absent themselves from the assembly despite the express warning of the Bible in Hebrews 10:25. 

Our devotion to the Real Presence of the Lord in the Eucharist should remind us how seriously we take our Catholic faith and identity. When we emerge from pandemic isolation and return to the world of social nearness let us embrace the pope, the bishops, the priests, deacons, and one another with bear hugs of happiness.

 

Saturday of the Fifth Week of Easter

Lectionary: 290

On account of the Jews of that region, Paul had him [Timothy] circumcised, for they all knew that his father was a Greek.

As they traveled from city to city, they handed on to the people for observance the decisions reached by the Apostles and presbyters in Jerusalem.

It is ironic that Paul had his new disciple Timothy circumcised although he had just finished a lively discussion in Jerusalem over that very question. He had opposed requiring gentiles like Timothy to undergo the ordeal upon being baptized. He had faced down much opposition from more conservative leaders of the church. In fact, in the very next breath, Saint Luke tells us they were announcing as they went "the decisions reached by the Apostles and presbyters in Jerusalem."

Although the apostles had agreed to relax the old rules during that “First Council of Jerusalem” -- it was the will of the Holy Spirit -- the controversy did not go away. Years later Saint Paul would display some anger about it in his Letter to the Galatians. In fact he had some distinctly unsaintlike opinions of certain "so-called super apostles” and their "other gospel."

Apparently young Timothy didn’t mind the imposition and could honor his new brothers and sisters in the Church despite their reservations about him.

The story reminds us of how reluctantly religious people are to alter their religious practices. Beliefs and opinions can change but they don't really matter until we get to the actions -- the rituals, gestures, songs and words of the religion.

After the Second Vatican Council Pope Paul VI promulgated a revised way of celebrating the Mass. The priests should face the people across the altar of our worship; we should read the Eucharistic Prayer aloud for all the people to hear and participate. In fact the best historians and liturgists could not tell us why that cardinal prayer of all the people had become the whispered prayer of a solitary individual. After the Council every syllable should be articulated clearly and audibly so that everyone might meet in one voice, one prayer and one heart.

But there were some old priests -- old guys in their sixties (like me) -- who could not make the adjustment. Many were retired and "said" their daily Mass without a congregation. So the Holy Father compassionately allowed them to continue in the old ways. The Tridentine Mass, it could not be denied, was a legitimate way to "say" the Mass.

However, that compassionate gesture proved to be the camel's nose under the edge of tent. The rest of him was coming in!

So a few old people wanted to watch the old priest say his solitary Mass while they prayed their rosaries. And then some young people, disenchanted with the determined (deterministic?) enthusiasm of their parents for the "New Mass" wanted to observe the "old Mass."

Then Pope Saint John Paul II permitted the Tridentine Mass to be celebrated with congregations with the local bishop's permission. One canonist I knew grumbled that he split our religion into two religions by permitting two different rites. The Saint was not a canonist; he had a compassionate heart.

Pope Benedict XVI went further, giving all priests permission to use the old rite.

Personally, I can understand a lay person wanting to be left alone and undisturbed while she prays -- even if she does it while people are joining as a congregation around her. I've had my days when I wanted no one around me. 

But I cannot support a priest who would not permit the congregation to understand the words he prays in their name. How can they say "Amen" when they don't know what he said? He might be simply mumbling, as I did when I was an altar boy and still hadn't nailed down the Suscipiat.

They tell the story of the old Byzantine priest who was instructing a younger Roman priest in the particulars of that rite. As the two incensed the altar the old man muttered, "Learn these prayers now because if you don't get them now you never will!" Meaning, he had never learned them in his eighty years of ministry. Who would know?

But if it doesn't matter -- as some might say -- then words don't matter and nothing that happens in our church matters. It's just sentimentality for the masses. 

Dear Saint Paul and the compliant Saint Timothy went along with the old folks in Derbe and Lystra, allowing them to have their old ways for the time being. These dear hearts would not have to pray with a gentile, not even a Christian gentile. Paul could let God's plan work itself out in God's own time. Perhaps I can learn from him. 

Labor Day, USA -- 2018

Lectionary: 431​

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. He said to them, "Today this Scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing."

The scriptures show some ambivalence about work. On the one hand we see the Lord working for six days to build the world. He reflects his great satisfaction in the work as he says at the end of each day, "That's good!" The first man and woman worked in Eden with similar satisfaction, turning a wilderness into a Garden. 

On the other hand, following their sin, God is disappointed and the man's work and a woman's labor are cursed.

From ancient times, in a world polluted with sin, work is what slaves do. Ancient people and kingdoms did not hesitate to invade their neighbors in search of cheap labor. It's a way of organizing human labor; not spiritually satisfying, certainly; but it worked for those with the power to enforce it. Most people living under the Roman empire were slaves. African slaves imported to South American plantations to grow and manufacture sugar were expected to live ten years. Given the willingness of African rulers to sell their enemies and the low cost of transport, the business was profitable. The United States, according to Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan, developed one of the most barbaric forms of slavery in human history. We have yet to atone for that tragic story.

In our Christian tradition, Saint Benedict urged his monks "Ora et labora!" Work and pray! He saw work as a satisfying way to pursue the life of holiness. A well-organized monastery didn't require long hours of its monks. Four hours a day might suffice during the off season; longer hours, during the planting and sowing seasons. But they completed the sacred work of worship consistently throughout the year.

The Protestant Reformation picked up that positive spirituality, despite Luther's doctrine that the Lord saves by faith and not by works. Americans, in particular, are known for their "Protestant work ethic." We assume that working people are better than idlers; many people despise welfare and welfare recipients. Even those who were born with every advantage of wealth, connections and education will claim they "worked hard" to attain their life of ease. One investment company went so far as to boast of their "old-fashioned" way of making money, "We work for it!"

As if...!

Labor Day doesn't celebrate the privileged life of investors. It's about the right of workers to organize and participate fully in economic decisions that affect them. The Church formally entered the discussion when Pope Leo XIII published his encyclical, Rerum Novarum. He taught that a factory worker should enjoy the fruit of his labor just as a farmer may live off the land he owns. Papal support of organized labor was greeted with scorn by Wall Street and capitalists but greeted by the priests who lived among factory workers. Later church teaching would discourage child labor and promote safer working conditions.

Popes Saint John XXIII and Saint John Paul II also wrote important encyclicals reflecting on the right and dignity of work. John Paul II, especially, worried that human labor is not just a commodity like bales of hay and gallons of milk. Justice does not buy labor in the cheapest markets and sell it at the highest possible rate. Human beings are not disposable.

That "right to work" was embraced in Communist countries though the United States never accepted the principle. Oddly, the expression "right to work" has been co-opted and is now used to discourage organized labor.

So long as there are people on this planet we will struggle to create an economic system that appreciates and rewards human labor. There will always be complex forces tugging this way and pulling that way, representing different factions and philosophies. Every political and economic system will be challenged by corruption on the one hand; and the gospel, on the other. The end will never be in sight.

We can pray that the Church will continue to support the rights of all people and the dignity of work until the Lord himself assigns us to our work stations in a newer, updated version of the Garden of Eden.