Rumor is not your friend

I had an interesting interior experience recently.  It was very enlightening.

A priest friend asked if I were still happy about Pope Francis. I said I thought he was awesome.

This priest responded that he wasn’t so sure, and had questions.

I asserted that the new pope is great because he’s the new pope, and is a man of integrity, faith and learning.

This priest indicated that he had heard rumors about potential appointments the new pope would make to various Vatican offices.

I asserted that whatever decisions may be made probably wouldn’t affect him in his celebration of Mass. 

This pastor of souls more or less accused me of being naïve.

I asked if he wanted the benefit of the doubt from his parishioners that he was not affording the new pope.

He asked if I thought he were that shallow. I didn’t respond directly…

Then he said something along the lines of, “I don’t think he (Pope Francis) is up to the task.”

I found this shocking, since no one is up to that task, and wasn’t quite sure who this pastor thought would be so great that all would be beautiful and perfect in the Church.

Then, thinking about this, and after hearing from another priest about rumors of things to come, I googled certain words, and found a webpage or two with rumors about supposed future appointments by the new Pope. They were not happy posts/news articles.  It was disturbing, if such things go through.

Then, I went back to reading the new encyclical, Lumen Fidei.  I only had about ¼ left to read. I found that I was internally disturbed to the point that I was annoyed by what I was reading.  It was a feeling that I could not shake until I realized what I had done: allowed the negativity of rumor to affect my affective, interior life, to the point that I found a beautiful document by the Pope to be annoying.

Rumor was never considered a friend of man. It is more of a spiritual infection that passes from mouth to ear (webpage to eye?) and creates division and angst.  Flee from it.  The truth, not rumor, will set you free.

Did Jesus mention homosexuality?

                Yes, it’s true.  Jesus never mentions homosexuality in any place in the gospels.  He condemns all sorts of other sins by name: murder, fornication, greed, speaking falsehoods, willful blindness, anger, adultery. . . among others.  Some use this lack of a specific condemnation as evidence that Jesus was “okay” with it.  I’m not sure how they come to that conclusion. It evinces the desire of some to gain approval for the activity, especially in the name of “love”.  But there are many sins that Jesus does not mention by name: pedophilia, necrophilia, suicide.  I do not think He was for any of those.

                What is interesting is that Jesus spells out what marriage is.  During His time, divorce was allowed and an acceptable practice, based upon Moses’ teaching that a man could give his wife a writ of divorce if she should not be pleasing to him, though he was forbidden under Mosaic Law from remarrying her if her second husband also found her unpleasing.  The Pharisees asked Jesus about divorce to “test” Him, probably because He was then in the region beyond the Jordan where John the Baptist had been preaching when arrested by Herod.  Of course, John had criticized Herod for divorcing his wife and marrying Herodias, the wife of his brother.  The Pharisees may have wanted to get Jesus into trouble with Herod as well.

                Jesus responded: “He answered, ‘Have you not read that he who made them from the beginning made them male and female, and said, “For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one?”  So they are no longer two but one. What therefore God has joined together, let not man put asunder.’ “ (Mt. 19:4-6).  This is a very clear definition of what marriage is according to the mind of Christ.  It should settle the matter for any believing Christian.

                Yet, they persist.

                What I find particularly interesting is how Jesus deals with the Torah and the various prescriptions and precepts found there. He is quite clear that His intention is not to do away with the Old Law, but to fulfill it. How does He do this? In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus mentions several commandments, and how in His teaching (“But what I say to you is. . .”) the root of the commandments is found not in the sinful external action, but even deeper in the heart and intentions of the person.  So, murder is wrong, but anger is just as bad; adultery is wrong, but lust might as well be the same thing.  Jesus’ intention is to bring forth the true dignity of the human person and how holy we must be if we are to inherit the Kingdom.  Our very inner thoughts and intentions must be in line with the justice and holiness of the Father.  The “burden” of the Gospel is much more profound than the external observance of a set of laws. Of course, the other side of the Gospel is that Jesus provides the grace by which we can indeed become the holiness of God.

                Jesus goes even further, though, for His Gospel is one of mercy.  So while He intensifies the commandments to include interior intentions, He also removes a lot from the Old Law. He does away with dietary restrictions, for it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a man, but what comes out of him. He gets rid of purification precepts as unnecessary. The idea that monetary success is evidence of God’s favor no longer applies, for “Blessed are the poor” and “how hard it is for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.” And finally, Jesus takes away stoning as a punishment for sin.  It is in line with His plan to bring mercy to the world, and to leave the final judgment up to the end of the world.  This is a good thing to mention to those atheists who mention the punishments of the Old Testament as a reason to get rid of memorials of the Ten Commandments. 

                So it is true that Jesus does not mention homosexuality in any list of sins. But given the fact that He insisted on sexual purity, of mind, body and soul; that marriage is a union of man and woman; and that at no point did He change the Old Testament teaching on the sinfulness of homosexual activity, we can safely conclude that it is and shall remain a sin, even in the dispensation of Christ.  A worse sin is not accepting His teaching and all it entails.  As He told the city of Capernaum: “If the mighty works done in you had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day.”

What a wonderful world!

    When I was 16, I got my first pair of glasses.  Near sighted.  It was a revelation to be able to see things far away and not squint.  The most amazing first sight was the night sky on the first day I wore them.  I had never seen so many stars before!  Even at the time, I was reminded of a television show I had seen a few years before which showed billions and billions of stars. I commented to my brothers, “There aren’t that many stars up there!” They were quick to point out that there in fact were even more than that. The problem was, with my near sighted vision, I had only ever seen about twenty or so.  It didn’t help that I grew up a few miles from Washington, D.C., and the light from the city is quite glaring.  This was brought home to me the first night I spent in Spotsylvania County a few years later.  The night I arrived, I went outside after dark, and almost fell to the ground when I saw the brilliance of a sky from far enough away from any major city that I could see the Milky Way.  And they seemed so close!
     Of course, we know that there are billions of stars in our galaxy, and billions of other galaxies beyond ours.  And here we sit on a tiny world, floating around a smallish star, in a swirling arm of an averaged size galaxy.  The big question is: are we alone in the galaxy?  Are there other inhabited worlds?  What about the other galaxies?  Surely, it is asserted, there must be life out there somewhere.  The odds seems to be for that assertion.
    The problem, of course, is that we have no real idea.  To say that there IS life out there is an act of faith since we have no evidence.  It might seem like arrogance for us to think we are the only sentient beings in the universe; actually, it should be an act of humility.
    The plain truth is that we are the only sentient beings in the universe that we know of.  It may very well be a fact that amidst this gigantic, unfathomable universe of stars and galaxies and planets, ours may be the only planet with life of any kind including beings like ourselves.  Our planet is perfectly situated at the right distance from the right kind of star to contain life as we know it. While this may be poopooed by those scientists and others who think there must be life out there (and I support efforts to find earth-like planets that may have some kind of life), it is an act of faith in something to believe life exists other places.  I find it interesting that those who assert science as their mantra and refuse to accept faith as a means to knowledge will make an act of faith in what is unobservable.
    Nevertheless, how marvelous it is to consider that God created a universe of such magnificence just for us!  And in this beautiful little world of ours exists a universe all its own of creatures and plants and so many other marvels. 
    Gazing at the stars can make us feel small and insignificant, but all that we can or could see is nothing compared to what God has done for us in giving us not only this beautiful world, but Himself.

Catholics and Ritual

It always amuses me when non-Catholics, of whatever stripe (though the Orthodox and some protestants would agree with Catholics), are bemused or even critical of the “ritual” nature of the Catholic Church.  Some say things like, “Why all those rites and forms or worship?  Why the movements and prayers, the genuflections and outward movements, when God, or Spirit, or the Higher Power doesn’t need those things to be honored/worshiped/appreciated?”
This amuses me because EVERY human being engages in some sort of ritual as a means of expressing something bigger than themselves.  Or at least as a way of interacting with the world.  Some use yoga as a way of deeper awareness and peace with what is. Some follow a ritual in their simple morning routine.  If we were to ask them how they get up in the morning, they would say something like, “Well, I get up every morning at 6 a.m. I spend ten minutes reflecting on my day. I have a cup of coffee and read the paper. I go running for an hour, or go to the gym for a workout. At the gym, I use cardio, and strength training; get on the elliptical and then use weights. Then I take a shower, get dressed, and get ready for work. I may read for 20 minutes, or listen to inspirational tapes or educational materials on the way to work.  When I get to work, I have to read these emails; answer these letters; have this or that meeting.  Then I have lunch at noon.  I do such and so in the afternoon.  At 5, I get ready to drive home.  We have dinner, and take some time to talk with one another.  Every Tuesday, we watch such-and-such a program. I meet with my friends once a week for book club.  On week-ends, I do this on Friday; that on Saturday.  I make sure I take a walk in the woods at least two or three times a week...” 
You get the belabored point. 
Ritual is part of human nature.  Even the interior anarchist will display elements of ritual on some level.
Catholic ritual is the same kind of thing.
First of all, the surprising thing about Catholics is that “mandatory” ritual is quite limited. There are fixed fundamentals that are “required”, but the other 167 hours of the week or pretty much open to interpretation and free expression. Some are recommended, but each Catholic is free to engage in a variety of forms and practices that suit the individual.
What is required of Catholics is attendance at Mass once a week, and holy days throughout the year (four times at most) and confession once a year. Fasting and abstinence are not that burdensome.  When at Mass, the ritual is something that has been received from 2000 years of tradition.  What is so ritualistic about Mass?  There is a gathering; communal prayers; some kneeling and standing; sitting to make it easier; and possibly communal singing. People do these things in their secular life in any number of ways.  Go to a group workout and try to get everyone to squat when they should be doing push-ups and see how that goes over.  Attend a yoga class and see what happens if someone wants to make everyone do marjariasana when they should be doing adho mukha svanasana.  People will fall into line in the gym, but object to ten minutes of kneeling at Mass. Interesting.
Catholic rituals are designed to teach something about human nature, for one, but also to express the faith in a bodily form. 
During a conference I attended, a lay “minister” of African-American Catholics made the comment that “white people pray with their minds, but we pray with our bodies”.  A friend of mine commented that, like his Polish grandmother, we pray with our bodies.  We genuflect in adoration; we kneel to pray; we fold our hands and bow our heads before the Almighty.  Many things are relative.
The issue, then, is not ritual in itself. Everyone uses ritual in some way, even in normal every day activities. Kneeling is an expression of humility and adoration.  Standing is a sign of respect. Folding of the hands is a sign of loving submission and surrender to the God Who loves us.  Communion is a sacred Banquet wherein we receive the God Who literally wants us to eat Him.  It’s kind of strange that in Hindu teaching, the goal of the highest enlightenment is that one is eventually consumed by the god one worships through one’s mantra. It’s a compliment that false religion pays to the real one, in reverse.  Catholic theology teaches that God doesn’t want to eat us; He wants to feed us. Tell me that there is no difference in religions.
I don’t begrudge someone their choice of rituals or religion. But please spare me this idea that non-religionists or non-Catholics don’t have such things.  Just because theirs are more pleasing to their palates doesn’t mean they are better or superior in any way. Theirs are just man-made.

Not not an atheist?

               After posting a response on twitter about the big bang, I received a series of responses about what atheists claim.  It was a fascinating exchange.  The format is not really conducive to a real conversation, and I admit that I abandoned it after a few efforts to engage the atheists who were posting in response to my tweet.  Confusing, I know, but that was the initial feeling I had in trying to dialog with those who call themselves atheists. 

                The initial tweet, by someone whose twitter handle I don’t remember, was that atheists had to have faith in something as the start of the big bang. What I received was a declaration that atheists don’t claim anything.  It’s a neat mental trick to demand answers without offering anything.  I get the image of a man standing on a corner demanding “answers” or “evidence” of something they do not or will not accept: the existence of God. 

                This is the status of the believer today.  With faith in not only the existence of Almighty God but in His concern for us, we are faced with those who are steeped in skepticism about spiritual realities, metaphysics and the non-material soul of man.  It is a mental and relational struggle that is beyond comfortable parameters of discussion.  If someone accepts no metaphysics, no causality and even no requirement to affirm anything positive, how can one engage in a dialog on what is above and beyond scientific enquiry?  A man who only speaks Greek will not have a fruitful conversation with someone who knows Greek, but suggests that English offers another view point. Language, after all, carries with it not only subtleties of syntax and grammar, but also cultural and intellectual positions that are not easily translated. 

                This barrier of language can be breached, however, in a far more simple manner than a disagreement about first principles and modes of thought. 

                Consider the problem of discussing a work of art with someone whose only point of reference is economics or politics.  Van Gogh produced marvelous works of art.  The one fixated on economics might want to know how much “Starry Night” might be worth on the market.  A person concerned only with politics might want to get into a discussion of Vincent’s struggle with poverty and acceptance.  How much is missed when beauty, aesthetics, form and color are not allowed in the discussion? The path to common ground is quite difficult, and is reminiscent of Plato’s “Cave” analogy. The one who leaves the cave has a difficult time telling those still chained what the real world is all about.

                Getting back to the twitter discussion I mentioned earlier, I made efforts to get my interlocutors to tell me if they accepted any form of metaphysics.  All I received in response was a demand for “evidence”.  Even after admitting that scientific evidence for God’s existence (putting “God” on the table, to be analyzed and dissected) was not possible, the demand continued for such evidence.  Here is a fundamental intellectual disagreement about how we know and what we can know.

                At this point, I tried to get some admission that it is rational to accept as true what someone else proffered as, shall we say, testimony, and received a modicum of agreement.  Yet, the dialog disintegrated back into a rejection of any need to continue the discussion (“What makes you think I want anything from you?”) and a mockery of the very worthiness of metaphysics (“Metaphysics is just more philosophical bulls***.”).  I did not mention that they were the ones who engaged me first.

                The discussion more or less ended with this, as time was not on my side.

                Strangely, about this time I started to re-read Cardinal Ratzinger’s book “Introduction to Christianity”.  This book is based upon lectures that then Father Ratzinger had given in Germany in the 1960s. It’s relevance to this twitter discussion and to recent public conversations about the existence of God was remarkable.  He actually brings up the loss of metaphysics as a common ground of dialog, and the metamorphosis of intellectual discovery from that ancient discipline into scientific and then political language. No longer do men think in terms of what lies beyond physics.  Now it is either simply scientific language, or, worse, the politics of what can be done politically towards a preset plan or desire of social perfection.  Thought has turned from a reflection of what is true to planning for what should be. 

                Then Father Ratzinger expounds upon the difficulties of this discussion, and offers some possible ways out.  But what is disturbing is the unwillingness or inability to move beyond what is verifiable in a predetermined system of proof to an open dialog of what may in fact be true outside of those bounds.

                The believer is one who has made a choice for what is not seen beyond the physical, but the non-believer has also made a choice: that only what satisfies a possibly un-proven ground of physical, political or emotional principles.

                Perhaps there is a way to engage this discussion on those levels.  The difficulty of the believer is finding the mode of engagement that does not do damage to the faith.  At some point, one must shake the dust from one’s feet and move away.  Charity demands that we at least make an effort.  Prudence will guide us to know when to go all in, and when to walk away.

Holy Thursday

On Holy Thursday, I think it is important to reflect on an oft-missed detail that has tremendous applications.  Jesus sent the two disciples, Peter and John, into the city to prepare for the feast by telling that they would meet a man carrying a water jar.  They were to follow him, and, entering the house which he entered, tell the head of the house that the Master was to have the Passover there with His disciples.  This man would show them a large upper room, fully furnished, and there they were to prepare the meal.

Why Jesus used such a cryptic way of pointing out the house was to keep Judas unaware of the place, for Jesus knew that the traitor was looking for an opportune time to have Jesus arrested, and the Lord did not want the Last Supper to be interrupted by the temple guards. 

It is also evident that Jesus knew this man who owned the house, and had arranged something in advance, even if it was simply that this unknown man was a hidden disciple, or at least a friend of Jesus.

This man had the privilege of having the First Mass, the First appearance to the apostles of the Risen Lord, and Pentecost in his home.  Some traditions say he was the father of John Mark, of Gospel fame, but the Gospels themselves are silent on the matter.  Whatever the case, his simple friendship of Jesus and the welcoming attitude of this man gave him a grace of unimaginable joy. His family shared this joy and they were among the first Christians to be sure.

The opportunity is not lost to history, for Christ seeks friendship with all. A welcoming home is among His greatest joys.

Reflections on the Prodigal Son

There is no question this is a story of mercy and generosity.  Prodigal can mean wasteful, but also lavishly generous.  Many commentators note that the father is prodigal with his love for his younger son, in the sense of generous, whereas the younger son was prodigal with his inheritance, as in wasteful. 

The younger son’s sin is not just the wasteful way he spent his share of the inheritance, but that, in asking for his share, he basically told his father that he might as well be dead.  Interestingly, the father, not holding a grudge, knew that his son was “killing” himself in leaving the family as he did.  “He was dead, but has come back to life.”  It is in the midst of the divine family that we have life, and leaving it, squandering the graces we’ve been given through mortal sin, is to die in our souls.  God Who raises the dead is able, and more importantly, willing to grant us life again.

It’s also interesting to note that the son, when he’s in the midst of the pigs, does not think of the father in very generous terms.  His desire to return is rather forced upon him by his hunger.  Even in thinking of his father, he does not say, “He still loves me and will take me back”, but he only considers his father’s generosity with the servants.  His penitence is incomplete and imperfect, based upon his own desperate condition. What is more, his awareness of the father’s goodness is incomplete as well.  He doesn’t remember how willingly the father had given him the share of the inheritance.  He doesn’t reflect upon the times he certainly must have enjoyed with his father.  He only remembers the abundance of his father’s wealth, shared by those who served him.

I’d venture to say that the elder son is wasteful in his own way, as he seems to squander his father’s love.  Though he was very cautious and diligent with respect to his father’s wealth and business, he missed out on the love of his father.  One wonders if he ever asked for a young goat to celebrate with his friends.

In this light, I think it is important to remember that, as much as the story reaches out to sinners who need to know how kind and forgiving God the Father is, Jesus told the story for the sake of the Pharisees and scribes who were angry and scandalized when Jesus ate with sinners and tax collectors.  The Lord was attempting to instruct them on what they were missing in the God of the Covenant.  God demands obedience to His law, but He is a God of mercy more than anything.  The blindness of the elder son is pointed out by the Lord in the kindest way possible.  While on several occasions the Lord was “in the face” of His enemies, on this occasion He gently instructed them through this and the preceding two parables of the lost sheep and the lost coin. Did they grasp the meaning of His words, “My son, you are with me always, and everything I have is yours. . . “?  They needed to hear that God was indeed pleased with their fidelity, even if it was incomplete.

Finally, eating is so very central to the story.  It’s the Lord eating with sinners that brings on the criticism of the Pharisees. The younger son most likely feasted while he had his father’s wealth.  His return home is driven by an empty belly.  The father calls for a feast to celebrate his son’s return, killing the fatted calf. The elder son calls feasting with his friends a sign of gratitude from the father.  And of course, the fatted calf is very much an image of the heavenly banquet where we will feast eternally with the Lord.  Eating was part of the cause of our fall; eating the Body and drinking the Blood of the Lord is a major part of our journey towards heaven; heaven itself will be a big party where the Lord will feed us eternally with His divine Love.