Catholic Faith and Reflections

“We must not dismiss the ‘other,’ or only see them as the ‘enemy,’ because whoever they are, they too are children of God. They are our brothers, our sisters, our neighbors – and we are told to love them.” — Dan and Sarah Mulholland, SFO

The Worthington Globe has a great article today on Deacon Vern Behrends, who was ordained with me and nine others for the Diocese of Winona on August 22.

Vern is also noted in Deacon Greg Kandra’s blog post today. Click on the link to the lower right to see it there and log on to:  

www.dglobe.com/event/article/id/27956

to read the article from The Globe.

Congratulations, Vern!

“Jesus Christ is my kingdom. If I possess him alone, I shall have all things; if I have not him, I lose all.” — St. Louis of Anjou, OFM

“The needs of the time are the will of God.”  — Mother Alexia Hoell, SSF

More than once I have been asked, “Why do you remain a Catholic?” This is usually asked after someone has read something about the scandals in the Church, or has experienced some injustice. 

It is a fair question. Here is my honest answer.

At the risk of sounding trite or cliché, I remain a Catholic because I have actually met Jesus Christ in the Catholic Church. No, I am not psychotic. No, I have not had a vision. What I have had is an encounter with Jesus in the Church. I cannot deny it. After meeting him, I cannot turn away from him. “To whom shall I go? You have the words of eternal life!”, to quote the Scripture.

I remain a Catholic because I was born a Catholic.  I cannot be anything else. I can no more deny this part of my identity than I could deny my family heritage. I honor my father and mother (one of the Commandments) by being faithful to the Church.

I remain a Catholic because of the millions of Catholics that have gone before me and died for the faith. I cannot dishonor them by denying their faith, their Church. Every Apostle, save St. John, died a martyr’s death. They are my teachers and the Scriptures say we must remember them and what they taught us.

I remain a Catholic because, contrary to the opinion of many, the Catholic Church is a very inclusive Church. There is room for everyone.  This is so hard for many in the United States to understand. The Church has so many cultures, peoples, traditions, lifestyles that define it. There are plenty of saints and sinners that call themselves Catholic and the Church welcomes them all. Take a look at the recognized saints….. you will find all sorts of personalities, backgrounds, faults and failings, graces and virtues. There is room for you and me and them. The Church is shockingly human,  even with its divine characteristics. Despite its pomp and splendor, the Church is radically humble, and identified with the poorest of the poor.

That is why I remain a Catholic, the scandals notwithstanding.

Why are you Catholic?

St. Hilary’s comments on the Psalms, an excerpt of which we read this morning in the Office, said:

“Then this river of God is filled with water. We are in fact inundated by the gifts of the Holy Spirit and by this fountain of life poured over us, a river filled with the water of God.”

What a beautiful image!  Being inundated by the Holy Spirit’s gifts, a fountain of life poured out upon us, the “water of God.”

I have been thinking quite a bit about the inability we have to really appreciate the totality of God’s love for us. It is unconditional. It is complete.  It is eternal. It is present. It is unlimited.  It is for everyone. It is authoritative in its compassion.

That last sentence is rich with meaning for us.  God’s authority comes from his compassion, his love. It is not an authority demanding fear. It is filled with hope. It is an authority that grieves for us. It is an authority that is generous, for he identifies with us.  That is the linguistic root of the word “generous,”  gens, the Latin for “clan”. God’s generosity is so complete because we are of his “clan,” his family.  We share in his identity.

Have you considered the fact that in every sacrament, God pours out his love, his Spirit, in an unlimited way? God cannot be outdone in his generosity. He gives himself completely. We must open ourselves to this love, to his Spirit. God is not really interested in our explanations for our waywardness. All he is interested in his our hearts and loving us if we only let him. He always welcomes us.

The graces of marriage, of baptism, of Orders, of any of the sacraments are immense. They literally can change the world.

Do we really believe in the unlimited love of God? Or are we too afraid, too caught up in the ways of the world — competition, comparison-making, being productive and acceptable — to accept the fact that God loves us without conditions? That we are inundated by the Holy Spirit, by God’s Love?

The tough part, after we begin to believe this, is that we then must become a loving Father.  We too must love without condition.

For the past many days, St. Augustine has been the author of the second reading from the Office of Readings.  He wrote of the pastors of the Church who tend only their own interests and not those of the flock entrusted to them, and the account they will have to render for the shepherding.

These are words so eloquently written that any of us called to leadership in the Church need to pay close attention. They apply to us directly.

It is always difficult to tease out how much of what we do as ministers of the Church is truly devoid of self-interest and how much is not. Being human, it always seems to be bit of both. But I suspect that is why we need to take to heart St. Augustine’s admonitions here. Fruitful ministry is the result of God’s work, not ours.  He uses us for his designs.  Our presence and cooperation is necessary, but He makes what we do effective. God’s love is not dependent on our earning it or our efforts to express it, yet He chooses to use us as His instruments.

I was sitting in a collaboration group yesterday, with several colleagues (we are all psychotherapists) and the topic of religiosity came up in regard to a particular patient. How quick my friends were to condemn rigid thinking which they associate with religious belief. They find the concept of objective truth completely unacceptable and disrespectful.

Made me think how we as representatives of Christ and His Gospel have not pastured our sheep well, for we have not preached and live a life of love, and the reality of love and forgiveness in the person of Jesus Christ.  That love and forgiveness, that person, is objectively true.

Too many of us who claim religion are filled with resentments and anger. We mislead our people because of it.

Brother Roger of Taize often wrote of the need for reconciliation. He was right. We need to reconcile with ourselves and with God.  We need to truly believe that God loves us, and then to trust and be grateful.

“As an ordained deacon I’m called never to forget that the person in front of me is the most important person at the time and I’m called to lead them to Jesus Christ.” — Deacon Sean Curtan, SFO

“Let us exhort one another on every occasion to be grateful to God for the uncountable graces by which we are surrounded.” — Venerable Solanus Casey, OFM Cap.

Last Saturday, September 19, the diocese of Ogdensburg, New York, ordained a new class of twelve deacons. One is Mark Bennett, from the parish of St. Peter in Plattsburgh.  I met Mark last year as I visited Plattsburgh and had dinner with him. He, by the way, is a full time staff member of the parish, the Spiritual Life Director.

The Ogdensburg class of 2009 include men ranging in age from 35 to the mid- 70s!

Welcome Deacon Mark to the Sacred Order of the Diaconate! Blessings on you and the rest of your class as you begin your ministry.

Today is the feast of St. Matthew. St. Bede the Venerable wrote a beautiful piece on the calling of St. Matthew, which we read this morning in the Office of Readings. Here it is, in part. (My translation into English.)

“Jesus saw a man, called Matthew, seated at the tax collector’s bench, and he said to him, “Follow me!” (Mt. 9:9). He saw him not so much with the eyes of the body, as much as with the eye of interior goodness. He saw a publican and, since he saw him with love, he chose him, and he said to him, “Follow me!” He said, “Follow me!”, that is, imitate me. Follow me, he said, not so much by walking with the feet, as much as by lifestyle. In fact, “Whosoever claims to live in Christ must live his life as Jesus lived his.” (1 John 2:6).

“In fact the same Lord that externally called him with a word, also instructed him internally by an invisible prompting to follow him. He infused into his mind a light of spiritual grace with which he was able to comprehend how Jesus was uprooting him from temporal things of this earth and was able to give him the incorruptible things of heaven.” — St. Bede, Homily 21, CCL 122, 149.

I am always amazed at how the ancient Church Fathers wrote about the Scriptures. Back at the Gregorian University in the 70s, I really didn’t like Patrology (study of the writings of the Church Fathers), but with age and a deeper study of theology in recent decades, I have come to appreciate it much more.

Here St. Bede talks about not only the external call of St. Matthew, but the internal, invisible calling that he theologizes occurred. In that way, he makes Matthew’s experience of conversion one all of us can relate to in some fashion.

True conversion is always a radical change, even if the conversion process is gradual, which for most of us it is. Yet, there are many of us who have experienced what can only be called a minor miracle, a moment in which our lives were wrenched away from a former life and impelled almost toward that which is good, true and holy…. God. As St. Bede says, God at times “infuses” a spiritual grace within us which we find we must follow.

I’d like to draw your attention to my “Admirable Links” widget to the lower right of this page. In particular, take a look at the Catholics Come Home and the Fathers for Good links.

Great websites.  

To any reader who has been away from the Church, I would simply say, “You are missed.  Come home.”

Blessings on all!

“I am challenged to let go of all the voices of doom and damnation that drag me into depression and allow the ‘small’ joys to reveal the truth about the world I live in…. God’s joy can be ours in the midst of it all.” — Henri Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son, pg. 116.

Doesn’t the world need to remember this? The truth that God is present, and He never ceases to love us?

Henri Nouwen in his book, The Return of the Prodigal Son, wondered which was more damaging, lust or resentment.  

You recall the parable of the Prodigal Son:  The younger son asks his father for his share of the inheritance well before he was owed it, and asked in a way that in that culture he essentially was wishing his father dead.  This younger son then goes off and squanders his inheritance on prostitutes and other lusty pursuits, only to be penniless in the end.  He had enough sense to recall though that he was still his father’s son, so he returned and asked forgiveness if only to survive. He had no idea that the father would love him unconditionally, and with open arms.

The elder son had stayed home and been very dutiful. He obeyed the father in all things.  He did things right. When he heard that his younger brother had returned and was given a complete pardon, and not only that, but a huge feast — something he had never received from his father– he was resentful.  We never find out whether he too accepted his father’s unconditional love.

Nouwen writes:

“The lostness of the elder son, however, is much harder to identify. After all, he did all the right things.  He was obedient, dutiful, law-abiding, and hardworking. People respected him, admired him, praised him, and likely considered him a model son.  Outwardly, the elder son was faultless.  But when confronted by his father’s joy at the return of his younger brother, a dark power erupts in him and boils to the surface. Suddenly, there becomes glaringly visible a resentful, proud, unkind, selfish person, one that had remained deeply hidden, even though it had been growing stronger and more powerful over the years.

“…. I wonder which does more damage, lust or resentment? There is so much resentment among the ‘just’ and the ‘righteous.’ There is so much judgment, condemnation, and prejudice among the ‘saints.’ There is so much frozen anger among the people who are so concerned about avoiding ‘sin.'” — Henri Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son, Image Books, copyright 1992, page 71.

Nouwen’s question is a good one. Which is more damaging to oneself and the world — undisciplined lust or simmering resentment. He doesn’t seem to answer the question, at least not in the first 80+ pages of the book. Which has damaged you more? Your family? Your community?  Your parish?

Perhaps the elder son’s resentment is the more difficult for us to acknowledge in ourselves and rectify. It is perhaps more difficult to accept the God’s unconditional love when we are resentful than when we have sinned against the flesh. Our resentments can always be rationalized away, it seems.

I’ll bet there are more sins of lust admitted in the confessional than sins of resentment. 

The moral of the parable is that the Father’s love is unconditional. He loved both of his sons completely. His love was not dependent on anything either son did or did not do.  He always loved them. The younger son seems to have accepted that. We never found out about the elder.

“Jesus has made it clear to me that the same voice that he heard at the River Jordan and on Mount Tabor can also be heard by me. He has made it clear to me that just as he has his home with the Father, so do I…. Faith is the radical trust that home has always been there and always will be there.”–Henri Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son, page 39.

Nouwen reminds us that we truly do share in Christ’s sonship with the Father. He, Christ, as the only-begotten Son from all eternity; we the adopted sons and daughters by virtue of Jesus’ sacrifice for us, and his identification with us.