An apt reflection for Good Friday afternoon:
“My plan of life is chiefly this: to love and suffer, always meditating upon, adoring and admiring God’s unspeakable love for his lowliest of creatures.” — St. Conrad of Parzham, OFM
Perhaps we can following the example of Jesus this day in this way.
“For the bonds which unite the faithful are mightier than anything dividing them. Hence, let there be unity in what is necessary; freedom in what is unsettled, and charity in any case.” –Gaudium et Spes 92.
Worth remembering when we consider the internal challenges of the Church today.
Pope John Paul II, in Veritatis Splendor made the following comments:
“There is no doubt that Christian moral teaching, even in its Biblical roots, acknowledges the specific importance of a fundamental choice which qualifies the moral life and engages freedom on a radical level before God…. by which man makes a total and free self-commitment to God….. Jesus’ call to ‘come follow me’ marks the greatest possible exaltation of human freedom… Paul encourages us to be watchful, because freedom is always threatened by slavery. And this is precisely the case when an act of faith — in the sense of a fundamental option — becomes separated from the choice of particular acts… the fundamental option (is) a genuine choice of freedom and links that choice profoundly to particular acts.” (John Paul II, Veritatis Splendor 66-67)
I love that comment about freedom always being threatened by slavery. Raise your hand if you have not experienced that very thing in your life, if you haven’t experienced a time when your freedom to choose to do or not do something has led you to a place of diminished freedom and emotional, physical or spiritual enslavement.
Back in 1978, I was taking a Fundamental Moral Theology course at the Gregorian University in Rome from Fr. Josef Fuchs, S.J. I have little doubt that Pope John Paul had him in mind when he wrote the section of Veritatis Splendor cited above. Fr. Fuchs focused squarely on the fundamental option and his view, as I recall it, that if we believe in the radical and profoundly powerful conversion experienced in the sacrament of baptism, if we believe in the tremendous grace received in that sacrament, then it follows that it sets us on a course toward God, a course that is not easily diverted. He argued essentially that mortal sin is not as easily committed as we tend to think, because of the power of baptismal grace. In effect, he did separate the fundamental option or choice for God from the particular acts of daily living. For Fr. Fuchs, it was more difficult to condemn oneself by particular acts if one has experienced the conversion of baptism and an overall orientation toward God. At least that is how I recall his theology.
Pope John Paul II hits him head on in Veritatis Splendor. Think about it. Fr. Fuchs’ ideas seem to diminish human freedom. The Pope’s ideas exalt it. Our freedom is such that we in fact can choose to radically alter the course upon which we are set by our baptism. We can do so readily. Yet, God never is stingy with the outpouring of his grace into our lives. The graces of baptism are immense and life-changing. But in freedom, we can restrict or inhibit, or even negate their effect in our lives. We can freely choose to be disposed to be transformed by them or to obliterate their impact in our lives.
St. Basil today continues with the theme we left off on in yesterday’s post. He says, translated from the Italian:
“God’s economy of salvation, our Savior, consists in the rearising of man from his fall and returning him to the divine intimacy, liberating him from alienation which had resulted because of disobbedience. The coming of Christ in the flesh, the burial, the resurrection are all for the salvation of man so that he may have anew, through the imitation of Christ, adoption as son which had been granted him in the beginning.
“For an authentic Christian life then, it is necessary not only to imitate his example of sweetness, humility and patience that he showed in his life, but also his very death….how are we to die, that is descend into the dead? Imitating the burial of Christ through baptism.” (St. Basil the Great, 15, 35; PG 32, 127-130)
Let us reflect well this Holy Week on the awesome grace of baptism in our lives, a baptismal grace that identifies us with Jesus’ own Paschal Mystery, that is, his life, suffering, death and resurrection. It is a grace that lifts us from the muck of sin and its effects, from the utter poverty of our condition, and elevates us to divine intimacy, as St. Basil says.
What a wonder that is!
I may have written about this before, but it returns to mind during Holy Week. Today’s Office of Readings brought it back (see the patristic reading for the day). The poverty of provisionality and finiteness that we experience as humans here in the world, a poverty embraced by Jesus so as to redeem all of what we are, body and soul, and bring it into eternity and divinity.
Ever think of how much time and effort we spend doing provisional things each and every day? Whether it is sweeping the floor, or painting the basement, or cooking meals, or doing the wash, or even reinforcing our human relationships so as to hopefully prevent their deterioration, all these things are provisional and poverty-striken realities of our fallen world that our Lord Jesus assumed and redeemed. He did them all. He sanctified them all. He died so that they may have eternal value.
Ever think of how much of ourselves we give to efforts that only have a finite, short-term effect or impact? And do we ever think of the divine dignity Jesus gave to this poverty?
Yes, we are provisional and finite people. We really do not know the depths to which we had fallen from our original dignity by the sin of Adam. We are poor people. We are only instruments in the hands of God. All we have accomplished is in fact “rubbish” (St. Paul) or mere “straw” (St. Thomas Aquinas). We cannot comprehend the richness and beauty and vastness and infinity of our God.
Yet, Jesus during this Holy Week took our provisional and finite lives and brought them into the divine realm of adopted sons and daughters. He gave our lives dignity. He poured out his grace into our very being, and gave meaning to all we do.
Holy Week celebrates the redemption of humanity, the elevation of humanity, from the unimaginable depths to which we had fallen, to the incalculable heights of God’s love.
The fourth anniversary of the death of Pope John Paul II was a couple of days ago. Maybe it is my age, but it does seem like he died just a few months ago. I recall being in the cathedral, with Mass just finishing, and the rector came out and went to the ambo. He asked all of us to pray for the soul of the pope, as the press was announcing he had died. Actually, the good rector was a bit premature, as the pope did not die until a few hours after his announcement, but for me, that moment is the time and place I will recall when JPII died.
What is just a vivid in my memory is his election in 1978. I was living in Rome during those months of excitement, and was fortunate to have been a part of two papal funerals, two papal elections, and two papal installations. As you know from my previous posts, John Paul the First was and remains my favorite pope. (I so much wish we could have benefited from an extended papacy of Papa Luciani.)
I can see in memory the night of Wojtyla’s election. I and two of my friends who happen to have been visiting from the States were camped out on the roof of the “Suore tedesche” who were a congregation of German sisters who lived only a block from St. Peter’s. We watched the smoke from the Sistine Chapel that day, most definitely black, until late in the day it was most probably white. We rushed down from the roof, and made our way to the piazza to wait for the announcement of the new pope. It was dusk, and soon the large flood lights situated around the piazza were lighted. When the announcement finally came, the name Wojtyla was pronounced, and we all thought we were going to see an African pope. Then out he came, and actually spoke to us in our Italian language. I have a picture I took with a small instamatic Kodak camera. A small miracle occurred I think, because that picture turned out, despite the darkness.
When we returned to our residence, in came, I should say bounding in, came Msgr. Stryngowski, an American Pole who was a friend of the new pope. He was beaming from ear to ear. And all of us rejoiced over a great meal and more than a little wine.
What was immediately evident in the new pope, from his first words on, was his pastoral character. Only later did we see his scholarly side.
Eternal rest grant unto him O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May his soul rest in peace.
Does today’s Morning Prayer reading hit anyone squarely in the heart? It did mine. Here it is (my translation of the Italian):
“I said, ‘Here I am! Here I am!’ to a people that weren’t calling on my name. I held out my hand every day to a people in rebellion. They were traveling a path that was not good, following their own whims; a people who were provoking me continually, with insolence.” (Isaiah 65: 1b-3a)
All of us have walked whimsical paths that have led us to places where all of a sudden we realize we were resisting God’s call rather than following the true path of happiness.
To all of my readers who may be searching for the path of truth and joy, I say, “Come home” to the body of Christ, which is his Church, who will welcome you.
“Catholics are meant to be a reflection of Christ’s presence in the world, preaching the Gospel, spreading the kingdom of God, building up the community of the faithful, and then reaching out to those who are most in need.” — Archbishop Charles Chaput, OFM Cap.
A description of the vocation of a good deacon, I would say. God help us in our endeavors! It is so easy to start thinking that our vocation is something about us. Rather, we must keep in mind we are called to be reflections of Christ to all, especially the needy.
I just returned from Vespers at the Cathedral in Winona. Our former bishop, Loras J. Watters, age 93, died on March 30. He was a remarkably simple man who guided our diocese through the immediate post-Vatican II days. He was the bishop who sent me to Rome to study, and approved of my candidacy for ordination back in 1977 and installation as lector in 1978.
Our present coadjutor bishop gave the homily tonight and shared a small part of Bishop Watter’s last will and testament. In it he asked forgiveness from anyone whom he may have failed to serve adequately during his tenure as bishop. He asked any of these unnamed individuals to not only forgive him whatever he may have done or failed to do, but also to recommend his soul to the Lord.
Bishop Watters was admirably detached from worldly things. He gave everything he had (which wasn’t much) to the Church from whence it came, he said. I am told that at his death, the only things he owned were his episcopal ring and his watch.
God bless you Bishop Watters! May your soul rest in peace, and be sure to pray for all of us.
“One cannot wrestle with one who is disrobed because he who wears something that can be seized is more quickly thrown to the ground. You cannot live in luxury on earth and reign with Christ in heaven.” — St. Claire of Assissi
I had a conversation yesterday with a friend. He was concerned about divisions in the Church. I tend not to think in terms of “divisions”, preferring to frame the issue in terms of holding in dynamic tension diverse practices and theologies within the Church. The Church has always done this, sometimes more successfully than others. Holding in dynamic tension, to me, means allowing the anxieties of difference to remain a source of bonding rather than of separation.
Perhaps that is a bit counter-intuitive at first glance. Perhaps it is with deeper thought. But to me, there is something real about the tension of difference being a bonding force, rather than a divisive force, in the community of the faithful.
We need each other if we are to be a living community. We will die if we don’t recognize our mutual dependency. Because of this, we need to support each other, yes, even those who are different than us.
Easier said than done.
All of this is built, though, upon Truth. And obedience to Truth. Our freedom to grow as Church rests upon freedom for the Truth, not freedom from the Truth. We are community, not just individuals. We wilt and wither away when we become autonomous. We are alive in the Truth, who is Jesus Christ. Our faith, our lives, are relational. They are a relationship with the Truth. Obedience to the Truth comes from listening.
On a practical level, this requires obedience to our local bishop, and the universal teaching of the Church. Many have a hard time with that, both those on the “left” and those on the “right”.
Unity, even with tension, brings freedom. Division and separation, to bring an end to tension, brings slavery. Obedience to authority gives us the blueprint for Truth for which we long.
From a deacon of the Archdiocese of St. Paul and Minneapolis:
“I realized that I am no more than a servant…nothing more, nothing less in the mission of Jesus Christ and his Church.” — Deacon Sean Curtan, SFO
If you have been listening to Catholic radio in recent days, you have no doubt heard that Fr. Jenkins, president of the University of Notre Dame, has invited President Obama to give the commencement address to the graduating class in May.
This is creating a huge firestorm of protest from many in the prolife apostolate.
The local ordinary, Bishop D’Arcy is refusing to attend the ceremony because he does not want to give any impression that his presence would be tacit support for Obama’s radical anti-life policies.
This is what is being reported.
What I don’t understand is why a purportedly Catholic university would give a platform, and confer an award (which I understand they are going to do), to anyone who so blatantly is pushing the kind of pro-abortion and embryionic stem cell research policies that our President is advocating.
The bishops of the United States as a whole in 2004 were quite clear that no one was to be given a platform to speak or given awards from a Catholic institution of learning if they publicly promote issues that were intrinsically evil and contrary to Church teaching.
Surely, supporting abortion and experimentation on embryos and embryonic stem cell research are such issues. The Church teaches that these are intrinsically evil, i.e., always wrong with no exceptions.
Is Notre Dame Catholic?
I just finished reading John Paul II’s encyclical Vertitatis Splendor. As you know, it is an encyclical on Catholic moral theology, something on which the Second Vatican Council was going to issue a document but never got around to it, so the late pope took up the task.
John Paul II has some wonderful things to say. I would like to highlight just a few things particularly important.
First, his moral theology arises from Scripture and is developed with an understanding of natural and divine law, human freedom, and conscience.
He describes the unfortunate tendency nowadays of what is called moral autonomy in which each person is a law unto himself or herself. He or she becomes in a sense a god, arbitrating between good and evil. Many of our contemporaries ascribe to this. They believe that the supremacy of conscience means they are the judge of what is good or bad, right or wrong. Such individuals find themselves caught up in meaningless patterns of behavior, some of which can be addictive and destructive.
He describes the opposite unfortunate position of heteronomy, in which individuals believe the truth is imposed on them, and they buy into a moral system of rigidity, a system of do’s and don’ts, a system in which they are ruled by another or something outside themselves. They are prone to a cult-like experience. There is no room for individuality. They long for certainty, clarity, no grays in the moral law. Often, those who once espoused the moral autonomy of the individual will jump over into the heteronomy camp.
Finally, he describes what the Church has always embraced, participated theonomy, which is our participation in and orientation toward God’s life and law. (Theonomy means ordered to an end who is God.) Our moral lives and decisions need to be ordered toward the ultimate end of happiness with him who is Truth. God pours his Spirit within us (grace) which makes us participants in divine life. We are in God, and thus we are happy. This is the basis for moral theology. We are free for the truth, not free from the truth as moral autonomists would have it. The freedom for the truth comes from within us as we participate in divine life and love. Our moral compass is not imposed on us by a set of do’s and don’ts as the heteronomists would want it. (Yes, there are absolute minimums below which we most certainly will sin and fall from grace. But there is no ceiling to the new law of love of Jesus Christ.) By our participation in divine life, our orientation toward the good and the true, we are with God in our consciences. The law is written in our hearts to which we must listen and obey. Our lives find their beginning and their end in the Truth, which is God as revealed in Jesus Christ.
Perhaps we can say, then, that we are “truth friendly and happy?”
I was listening yesterday to my local hardward store owner at a training session for mentoring couples in our parishes’ marriage preparation program. I had tapped him and his wife as potential candidates to mentor some of our young engaged couples, thinking they would do well. Now, I have known this man and is wife for 23 years. I have frequented his store many times over the years, and have often found that he has the piece of plumbing I need that I have not been able to find at some of the larger stores in the area. He has fixed more than one problem I have come in with.
Anyway, he and his wife were sitting around a table with five other couples plus the training couple. They were to introduce themselves as if doing so to an engaged couple in a first meeting. What he said, among other things, was that for all those years (35 +) he considered his hardware store a ministry to the People of God. He said he really didn’t do it for the money, but to help people who have problems in their homes and yards. He meant what he was saying.
I thought, “This is what the vocation of the laity is all about. Being a witness of your faith in your job, career and family. Here is a man who is doing what he is called to do.”
They will mentor well the couples we send to them for marriage preparation. God bless them!
