Carpe Articulum

I read this article today: Hades-type cave looks like heaven for archaeologists.

Key bit:

“Hades, the fabled underworld of the dead in ancient Greece, wasn’t the happiest place…There, departed heroes such as Achilles gathered mostly to grouse about their boredom and await the verdict of the judges of the dead. There’s a reason that it later became associated with the hell of Christianity.”

Tomorrow night’s Wednesday Sunday School lesson plan runs from Gethsemane up to the Ascension. The kids already know about Sheol/ Hades/ Hell, including references to Enoch, Elijah, and the parable of Lazarus resting in the bosom of Abraham. Reading a few lines of this article will be a diverting lead-in for discussing this bit of the Apostles’ Creed: “He descended into hell,” which itself is an intro into discussing what Jesus was actually doing in “Hell” anyway. This picture is our visual aid:

That’s right, it’s an Anastasis. And that makes the news article all the more fun. I usually mention that Anastasia is a girl’s name, but this year I’ll also read this next key bit from the paper:

“But for archaeologists, a Greek cave…contains the remains of a Stone Age village…”What you see there almost cannot be described,” says archaeologist Anastasia Papathanasiou of the Greek Ministry of Culture…” An actual woman named Anastasia is way more interesting than me just saying Anastasia is a girl’s name; and it makes a living connection to that old Greek fresco.

This little exercise meets three ongoing class goals:

1. Connect God Stuff to Regular Stuff.

2. Connect the Past to the Present.

3. Connect the Textbook to Other Printed Stuff.

Now did God make sure this article was in my paper the day before the only class of the year in which I could use it; or was it just coincidence?

Inquiring minds wanna know.

The Crucible of Choosing

[This exquisite homily was written before Lent began, but with Msgr. Batule's kind permission, we share it with you here.]

Tuesday of the Sixth Week
Jam 1:12-18; Mk 8:14-21
February 14, 2012
Memorial of Saints Cyril and Methodius

The Crucible of Choosing

In a little bit more than a week, Lent will be here for us. It’s a stark season for sure, but one that’s very vivid at the same time. Its vividness is tied to the fact that many of us give things up as a penitential discipline. In most cases, though, the “giving up” is temporary. We return to regular eating patterns, viewing patterns and other such things just as soon as we mark Christ’s victory over sin and death at Easter.

Along with giving things up, there is of course the struggle to do just that. We wage an internal battle, fending off urges and impulses to use what we pledged not to use on Ash Wednesday. How fitting then is the gospel for the First Sunday of Lent we hear no matter the year on the calendar! The Synoptic Gospels – Matthew, Mark and Luke – pretty much convey the same material concerning the temptation of Jesus at the start of His public ministry. This year, being Cycle B, we will listen to Saint Mark’s version. It’s a typically sparse rendering by the evangelist – just three verses in the lectionary and the Bible. (cf. Mk 1: 12-15) And if you take away the fact that the text in question includes Jesus going to Galilee to begin His public ministry (cf. verses 14-15), you’re really only dealing with a two line description of the temptation by Saint Mark. Not long, we would have to concede, but long enough. It’s long enough to incorporate the irreducible basics related to the temptation. We find that Jesus is tempted in the desert, that He is in that locale for forty days and that Satan is the Tempter. (cf. Mk 1:12-13)

The gospel for the First Sunday of Lent gives us specificity and concreteness. It gives us the answers to the questions we would ask if we were analyzing the incident, say, forensically. It satisfies our curiosity involving who, when and where of the case in question. It doesn’t offer us any commentary about the nature of temptation and why temptation is such a powerful force in our lives. The word of God does indeed provide that data for us, but we have to go elsewhere to get it.

Yesterday, we started reading at daily mass from the Letter of Saint James. We will continue to listen to selections from this New Testament book right on up through Tuesday of next week, the day before Ash Wednesday. In today’s first reading, the sacred author treats temptation in the first part of the passage. He gives us what I would regard as the etiology of temptation, and this neatly complements the specificity and concreteness of the evangelist. The etiology gives us the layers behind what is observable. When we peel back the layers, we’re able to get at the nature of temptation, we’re able to appreciate why it is such a potent force in human endeavors.

Saint James writes that desire conceives and brings forth sin. And sin, when it reaches maturity, gives birth to death. (cf. Jam 1:15) There you have it! Disordered desire is at the very foundation of temptation. And that’s just the beginning. It grows and increases until it reaches a mature stage, comments the sacred author. And in its fullness, the temptation eventually metastasizes and results in death for the one who is tempted. I like to refer to this phenomenon as the trajectory of tragedy. To use another image, there’s an arc to temptation. It rises not to glory but falls to misery and heartache.

Jesus is without sin but He is the Master of choosing. No matter what the condition is, He chooses the Father and the Father’s will. (cf. Jn 5:30) That is how He is triumphant in the desert. That is the secret of His success. And it can be ours too if we let it.

This is a period of transition for many of us here at the Seminary of the Immaculate Conception. How do we successfully negotiate this juncture in our lives? Let me suggest for our consideration today someone who might serve as a guide, someone quite adept at following wherever the Lord was leading him. I am referring to Jean Marie Lustiger.

Born in 1926 into a Jewish family in France, Jean Marie at the age of 13 decided to seek Baptism. He was baptized a Catholic in 1940. Eventually discerning a vocation to the priesthood, Jean Marie was ordained in 1954. He later was made a bishop, having served first at Orleans and then transferred from there to be the Archbishop of Paris. In 1983, Pope John Paul II created him a cardinal. With family members killed by the Nazis in concentration camps and having a father who once tried to get his son’s baptism annulled, Jean Marie’s life was filled with surprises and great drama. In a volume titled Choosing God, Chosen By God, Lustiger told the story of his own life in a series of interviews. His keen sense that the Lord had chosen him began with Israel’s election, he confessed. But he believed Christ to be the Messiah, the hope of man’s redemption.

Surrounded by uncertainty and not knowing where we should go next, the Lord calls out to each one of us. We can let go and trust because of the example of the apostles who took up with Jesus, believing as Andrew did, that he had found the Messiah. (cf. Jn 1:41) We choose God because He has first chosen us. His choice of us as servants builds confidence that we can choose the Lord ahead of disordered affection, before uneducated desire. Temptation affords us the opportunity to be firm and resolute in where we are going in life. When we choose the Lord and His Kingdom, it sets us not on the trajectory of tragedy but on the road to Jerusalem. In our own crucible of choosing, we are renewed and emboldened by Jesus’ desire there “not my will but yours be done.” (Lk 22:42)

Ash Wednesday and Being Thankful for the Changing of Seasons

So I put the brown, Volume III of the Liturgy of the Hours (Ordinary Time) back on the shelf and pulled down the red, Volume II (Lent/Easter).  I noticed something about it this time as I held it in my hand.  The cover and the spine are a lot more malleable then when I originally purchased the set and a few pages have the corners turned up on them.  Then I opened it and read the antiphon for the Invitatory:

Come, let us worship Christ the Lord, who for our sake endured temptation and suffering.

It sounded familiar and I suddenly became thankful for the changing of seasons, the opportunity once again to begin the observance of Lent.  Through all the changes that have taken place in my life in the past year, and there have been a lot of them, the Lord shows his constancy through the Church’s liturgical seasons.  He always invites us to go deeper with him.  As I meditated on that for a few minutes in my office this morning, the “burden” of Lent disappeared and it was replaced by joy.

Lent is best known for “giving up something” and not for its focus on fasting, almsgiving, and prayer.  The problem with the idea of ”giving up something” is that we never seem ready to give up our sense of entitlement.  We may put aside chocolate, caffeine, or sweets, and in a sense meet the letter of the law, but we never seem to give up the idea that we are somehow entitled to those things (and many others).  The end result of Lent is that we celebrate Easter by binging in a week long period of self-indulgence.  Somehow I don’t think that is the point of Lent.  What is it that gets lost in the transition from Lent to Easter: from self denial to self-gratification?  The practice of fasting is like the preparation of an athlete for a competition; we are trying to “get fit” (again) as believers in preparation for Easter and the renewal of Christian living beyond Lent.

True fasting, according to Isaiah 58, is not a endurance test for the body to abstain from certain types of food, or even food altogether, but it is an abstaining from sin, injustice, corruption and deceit.  This type of fasting is related to almsgiving and social justice.  The bonus about focusing on this type of fasting is that it doesn’t end at Easter.  In the book of Isaiah, we read:

Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke?  Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover him, and not to hide yourself from your own flesh?  Then shall your light break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up speedily; your righteousness shall go before you, the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard.  Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer; you shall cry, and he will say, Here I am. “If you take away from the midst of you the yoke, the pointing of the finger, and speaking wickedness, if you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in the darkness and your gloom be as the noonday (Is 58:6-10).

Once again, this is the type of fast that can, and should, be lived year round.  It is a very practical kind where fasting means Christians truly living their faith.  It requires recognizing injustice, protesting against it, and protecting its victims.

Another Lenten focus is on prayer.  Rarely is prayer easy.  At least it’s not for me.  I often wonder if prayer something we do or something we allow God to do in us.  I suppose it could be a little of both.  Prayer is our attempt to remain in conscious contact with God, to remain open to his wisdom and love.  Prayer means remaining open to receiving God’s gifts.  It also means allowing God to work through us in order to bring about the change God wants for his people.  The type of change that ushers in the justice that Isaiah spoke of.

The observance of Lent and its associated “tasks” – fasting, almsgiving, and prayer – last for 40 in remembrance of the 40 days Jesus spent being tempted in the wilderness after his baptism by John (Luke 4:1-13).  There he was tested: was he really serious about the mission he was called to?  Did he really love the Father with all his heart, all his mind, and all his strength?  Was he, at heart, serious about serving God fully, no matter what that might require, even death?

We are tested in this way, not “in the wilderness,” but by life.  Through temptation we learn about our weakness and about the depth of our commitment.  When tempted we should ask ourselves: “To what extent am I willing to serve the Lord?”  During Lent, we consciously invite this kind of test through our fasting; we hold our lives up to God for his scrutiny and beg for his mercy.

During our 40 day observance of Lent we not only have Jesus example to guide us, but his Spirit to accompany us on the journey.  My prayer this Lent is that at the end of it I’ll be a bit more like the red volume of my breviary – a little more malleable than when I began.

 

 

Pitchers 10: Physical Access

 

Trust me, he’s sick or naked or hungry or something bad

Partial board from the Feb 15, 2012 class, which covered the Parable of the Wedding Feast (Matt 22), the Judgement of the Nations (Matt 25) and the Last Supper (Matt 26+). I was running out of space by the time we got to the Last Supper. For some bizarre reason, the cartoon on Matt 25 is labeled B, although it was drawn before the Last Supper cartoon which is tagged A.

One of the great things about teaching 6th-grade is that the majority of the kids know these stories already. So classtime is spent on adding depth rather than laying groundwork. Every year I’m pleasantly surprised by what the children have already learned from their parents and catechists.

Cartoon B illustrates that those who want to “do something beautiful for God,” as M. Teresa would say, will do things for “the least of  [Jesus'] brethren,” given that Jesus isn’t a carpenter you can take to lunch anymore. Jesus at left welcomes all the sheep on the right who acted in faith to help that poor wretch in the middle. The middle person in need of love & charity mediates their Corporal (you know, acting body-to-body) Acts of Mercy to Jesus; and oddly enough, mediates Jesus back to them as well. I elaborate on this with a photo book and discussion of MT (whom most kids already know), and the scabby, sick, smelly & scrawny people she loved. Then I say a bit about how her example prompted me to bring Communion to the sick for years, and tell a personal story of how Jesus once flowed back & forth between me and a dying woman. The kids remember that Elisha dropped everything when Elijah called him; as did Peter, Andrew, James & John at Jesus’ call. And they learn that MT did the same on a train in India when Jesus called her.

Jesus is big on action, not talk.

Cartoon A accompanied discussion as to why the Last Supper featured Bread & Wine instead of Bread & Lamb, like a normal Passover. The kids recall that Jesus is the Lamb of God per John da Baptis’ and so they eat Him through the miracle bread; and the whole “this is my Body & Blood” business explains all that weird stuff Jesus said the day after the Loaves & Fishes miracle. Then the kids remember the priest-king Melchizedek’s bread & wine. I draw Melchizedek toting bread and wine;  Abraham; and Moses (in his Ark). The kids figure out that if a priest makes an offering for you, and you pay him, that the priest outranks you in religious authority. Thus Melchizedek outranks Abraham, and by extension all his descendants such as Moses, who made the Passover covenant with God. So when Jesus says “This bread is my body/ this cup which is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood,” he is using Melchizedek’s bread & wine. Later on, St. Paul explains to the Hebrews how this shows Jesus is a priest like Melchizedek, and thus his new covenant outranks Moses’ old covenant.

Welcome Home! The Parable of the Prodigal Son

 

A long time ago, in a faraway land, there lived a man who had two sons. The older son was hardworking and loyal, and he helped his father take care of the daily chores that needed to be done. The younger son was very lazy, and he spent his days just lying around, watching his brother do all the work.

One day, the younger son was sitting on the sofa, channel surfing, and eating cheeseballs. He was so bored, that he began to think of ways to make his life more exciting. He finally came up with a great idea!

His father was outside, tending the garden, when the younger son found him. “Hey Dad,” said the son, “I have something to ask you.” “Hello son,” said the father, “have you come out to help me with the gardening?” “No way,” said the son, “I’ve come to ask you if I could have my share of the estate now, so I can go out and see the world.” The father was not happy with his son’s decision, but he gave him half of everything he owned.

A few days later, the younger son left his father’s house, and went to the big city, where he spent his money on beer, gambling, and all-night parties.

After he had spent all his money, a severe famine swept the entire country, and the son realized that he needed to get a job. He went to Pepper Jack’s Pig Plains, where he got a job feeding the pigs. No one would give him any food, and he became so hungry, that he wanted to eat the food that he was feeding to the pigs.

“This is no way to live,” said the son, “maybe I should go back to my father’s house. He may not welcome me back, but if I work hard as a servant, at least I’ll have food, and I won’t starve.”

So, he went back to his father’s house, where he was ready to beg for his forgiveness. When the father saw his son, he ran to him and hugged him. “Father,” said the son, “I have treated you badly and I have sinned against heaven. I am not worthy enough to be called your son.” The son stood silent as he waited for his father’s angry words.

But his father smiled at him and he said to his servants, “Listen everyone, give my boy the works. I’m talking robes, jewelry, and for dinner, how about that fat cow in the garden! Tonight we will have a feast and celebrate, because my son was dead, and now he is alive again, he was lost, and now he is found.”

Now the older son was in the field, taking care of his father’s garden. He decided he needed a break, so he started walking back to the house. As he got closer to the house, he heard music and he saw people dancing. He asked one of the servants what was going on, and the servant told him that his younger brother had returned, and the party was for him.

The older son was furious, and he refused to join the celebration. The older son said to his father, “What’s going on here? I have stayed with you all these years, worked for you, took care of you and your property, and you’ve never given me a party. I’m a little ticked off.”

His father said, “Son, don’t you see, your brother has returned on his own, it was his choice. He has learned his lesson. He was dead, but now he is alive again, he was lost, but now he is found. Don’t you think that’s a good reason for celebrating?”

The older son stared at his father for a long time. He finally smiled and said, “Are there any cheeseballs left?” “You bet,” said the father, “your favorite, parmesan and cheddar.” “All right,” said the son, “let’s celebrate!”

“Someone” Beautiful for God

Monday of the Fifth Week
1 Kgs 8:1-7; 9-13; Mk 6: 53-56
February 6, 2012
Memorial of Saint Paul Miki and Companions, Martyrs

Malcolm Muggeridge was an English controversialist and journalist whose life spanned just about the entirety of the twentieth century – he was born in 1903 and died in 1990. He was first an agnostic and then later on became a Catholic – a deeply committed Roman Catholic at that. His conversion was hastened along by the witness of an Albanian-born nun by the name of Mother Teresa of Calcutta, who even before her death in 1997 was regarded as a living saint. Muggeridge was so moved by the founder of the Missionaries of Charity that he decided to make a film about her in the late 1960s so the rest of the world could come to know what he had discovered in this very holy woman.

After he finished making the film, Muggeridge was at a loss as to the title he would give it. While reading through a piece of correspondence from Mother Teresa, he found the right words to capture the vision he had brought to the big screen. Mother Teresa had written: Let us do something beautiful for God. There it was – Something Beautiful for God – that’s what he would call his film.

In my view, he could just as easily have titled his film Someone Beautiful for God – although Mother Teresa would not have liked it. She was much too modest to accept this kind of designation about herself. Her focus was always on the work she was doing for God; it was never on herself. In fact, she would have regarded the personal attention as a betrayal of her service to the poor, as something not in keeping with the humility we should have about ourselves in imitation of Christ.

Nonetheless, there is a sense in which someone beautiful for God is an apt description for Mother Teresa. I’m referring to the sense of every man, every woman. Every man, every woman is someone beautiful for God. Certainly that’s what Mother Teresa believed – every dying person she and her Sisters pick up from the streets of Calcutta is someone beautiful for God. Each dying person, treated with the utmost dignity and respect by Mother Teresa and her Sisters, has wounds bandaged because the Lord has already bound up the wounds of our sins. By His dying on the Cross, He has healed us by His stripes. (cf. Is 53:5)

In today’s first reading, the sacred author describes for us the solemn dedication and consecration of the temple in Jerusalem. We hear in the text how the ark of the covenant is carried forward in procession by the priests and Levites. (cf. 1 Kgs 8:4) We can just imagine the precision and exactness it required on the part of the Lord’s ministers. In this dedication and consecration, a column of smoke fills the temple, indicating the presence of the Lord’s glory. (cf. 1 Kgs 8:10) How majestic a sight this must have been to set your eyes on! It’s no wonder that Solomon, addressing the Lord of glory, cries out, “I have truly built you a princely house.” (1 Kgs 8:13) Solomon was no doubt wise, but modest he was not!

The temple was something beautiful for God with all its gold, silver and precious metals. But was it the most beautiful thing of all?
Early on in Jesus’ public ministry, Saint John the evangelist has Jesus in the holy city of Jerusalem, in its temple area where he finds moneychangers and drives them out of His Father’s house. (cf. Jn 2:14-15) Overturning their tables in an act of righteous indignation, Jesus boldly proclaims at the same time, “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.” (Jn 2:19) The evangelist informs us just two lines later that Jesus “was speaking about the temple of his body.” (Jn 2:21)

In today’s gospel, the evangelist records how Jesus ministered to the sick. Wherever Our Lord visits – whether villages, towns or the countryside – the sick on mats are brought to Him. (cf. Mk 6:56) All they want to do is touch the tassel of His cloak; and Jesus of course obliges their request. (cf. Mk 6:56) These sick people are unable to walk; their legs and presumably other parts of their bodies are severely compromised. Saint Mark indicates very simply at the end of the text that these sick men and women are healed of their infirmities. (cf. Mk 6:56)

There is a story told about Saint Lawrence the Martyr, the third century deacon in Rome and it goes like this: Lawrence, the servant of the Lord and His people, is instructed to produce the most coveted and most valuable possessions belonging to the fledgling and persecuted Christian community in the Eternal City. Instead of bringing forward the most precious sacred vessels used at the liturgy, the deacon presents the lame, the crippled, those whose bodies are racked with pain. These are the ones who are beautiful for God!

We are still a few weeks away from the beginning of Lent and we have an even longer distance to cover liturgically before we get to Holy Week. Still, I do not think it imprudent to invoke an image from that penitential season now. Jesus is the Suffering Servant. He is the One of whom Isaiah prophesied long ago: “There was in him no stately bearing to make us look at him, nor appearance that would attract us to him . . . . One of those from whom men hide their faces, spurned.” (Is 53:2-3) There was no beauty there, or so it seemed.

Father Richard John Neuhaus, the founding editor of the journal First Things, once preached the Seven Last Words of Christ devotion in New York City and turned his reflections on that occasion into a volume entitled Death on a Friday Afternoon. He referred to Jesus’ death there as a dreadful beauty – something physically repugnant yet spiritually and morally splendiferous at the same time. In going to the Cross obediently, Jesus did something beautiful for God. Through His humility, He showed Himself as Someone Beautiful for God. So might we turn our own lives into something beautiful for God, and thereby become someone beautiful for God by choosing not the way of self-fulfillment but self-abandonment.

Fine Art 7, Res Ipsa 12: Rembrandt’s Prodigal Son

Where possible, (i.e., most of the time) every Bible concept or story is connected to something the kids already know about Catholicism. For example, Jesus fasting in the desert precedes Lent; the Meeting Tent anticipates a Catholic church; the Loaves & Fishes provides a model of both Church administration and the Mass; and David’s confession to Nathan, and the Prodigal Son story both foreshadow the Sacrament of Reconciliation.

Last week we covered the Prodigal Son, and once again I used this painting by Rembrandt…

…along with the usual drawing and discussing:

Rembrandt’s Prodigal Son possesses emotional dimensions that aren’t available through the printed word. The kids plug into it right away. The handout of the image has the Act of Contrition at the bottom to encourage the kids (and their parents) to go to Confession. I don’t know if it works or not; all but two kids took the handout with them after class was over.

In the catechism business Hope always Springs Eternal.

The Sword of February

 

Happy Valentine’s Day!

“Hey it’s February. I notice there’s more daylight now when y’all get dropped off, why is that? The days are getting longer? Yes, the Sun is up more. It’ll be Spring soon, and the days…lengthen [on the board]. English-speakers once called this time of the year the “lengthen season.” Now watch the Magic Finger (I erase letters in lengthen so it says len-t-en); what does the Church call this season? Umm…Lent? Yes, why? Because the days lengthen! Yes, so Lent is short for…Lenten, yes, which is short for…lengthen! Yes. Y’all are too smart. Sometimes we say Lent, sometimes we say Lenten season. ¿Quién aquí habla Español? Me! Honorary son, what’s Spanish for Lent? Cuaresma [on the board]. How many days is Lent, Cuaresma? Forty. How do you know? Because cuaresma is like the word for forty. Which is? Cuarenta [on the board]. Yes; y’all can see how Spanish tells us Lent is 40 days long. Class, what’s up with 40; why not 38 days, or 43 days? Because Jesus was in the desert for 40 days! Yes, and the Israelites…were in the desert for 40 years! Yes, good. Forty is an important number in the Bible; there are more 40s in the Bible than we have time for. Now, if you’re in the desert like Jesus or the Israelites, are you having fun? I don’t think so. Right, being in the desert involves discomfort, suffering.

In most cases the number 40 signifies a time of penance and preparation. So what are we preparing for during Lent? Easter! Yes. What word does Easter have in it? Umm….east? Yes, and where does the sun rise? In the East. Yes. Like Lent, the word Easter also refers to Springtime. It’s an old pagan word, but now we use it for a Christian holy day…we baptized it so it’s a Christian word now. You can’t baptize a word! You’re right, I don’t mean it literally. But the Church can give old pagan things a new Christian significance.

So…is Lent a fun time? No you’re supposed to give stuff up. Yes, such as? Candy! TV! Fighting with my sister! Saying mean stuff! Yes, we deny ourselves those things in imitation of Jesus. What’s something the Church wants us to not eat during Lent? Meat! Yes, let’s look at meat for a minute.

When Adam & Eve were in Eden, could bad stuff happen? No!  How about the animals in Eden: would a lion eat a lamb? No!  Right again…and what was was the only stuff that could be eaten in Eden? They didn’t need to eat!  Well, that’s a good guess; listen to this bit from Genesis & try again: “God said, Behold, I have given you every plant-yielding seed which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree with seed in its fruit; you shall have them for meat.”  Plants! They could only eat plants and apples ‘n’ stuff. Yes, but how about the animals? Listen again: “And to every beast of the earth, and to every bird of the air, and to everything that creeps on the earth, everything that has the breath of life, I have given every green plant for meat.” Animals had to eat plants too?  Yes. There was no eating each other in Eden; just good things could happen: 24/7 pizza buffet, no going to bed early, beer for the grownups….anyway, life was perfect just being with God in Eden. But then Adam & Eve ate the apple and were thrown out of Eden.

Many generations later there was a guy with a boat. Noah! Yes, tell it. He put all the animals in the Ark and after the flood they all got back out and were ok. Yes..how long did it rain? 40 days! Yes, smarties, another 40! And after the Flood, God told Noah, “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth.” That’s nice, that’s also what God told…Adam and Eve! Yes. But then God says, “The fear of you and the dread of you shall be upon every beast of the earth, and upon every bird of the air, upon everything that creeps on the ground and all the fish of the sea; into your hand they are delivered. Every moving thing that lives shall be meat for you; and as I gave you the green plants, I give you everything.”  Sounds awful doesn’t it? All the animals will be in fear of Noah. Why? Because Noah can eat them now? Yes, he and his descendants can now kill and eat animals. Why’s that ok? Because they haven’t planted any food yet? Well, maybe. Tell me this: why is it that there are any animals at all, that they all didn’t drown? Because Noah put them in the Ark!  Yes, they didn’t do anything themselves, it was all Noah’s work. So if not for Noah, they’d all be…dead!  Yes. So the animals owe Noah…what do they owe him? Their lives?  Yes, so God is acknowledging that since the animals and all their descendants owe Noah their lives, God won’t forbid people from killing and eating them. Now just because God no longer forbids eating animals, does that mean he approves of it? No. Right. So apparently God tolerates some things after the Fall that would never have been acceptable in the Garden; which is hardly the same as saying they are good, or blessed. God didn’t say, “Kill and eat a bunch of animals, Noah and I’ll bless you extra!” But sin has made the world a mean and scary place.

¿Quién aquí habla Español? Who speaks Spanish? Me! OK m’ija, digame, cómo se llama “carne” en Inglés? Meat!  Yes, C-A-R-N-E means meat, flesh. How about ‘voracious,’ do y’all know that word? No…no…no. No worries, sometimes 6th graders surprise me. How about ‘devour’? To eat real fast? Yes, like a possum? No, like a lion! Yes, like a predator. If we put the Latin roots of carne and devour together we get carnivorous; anyone know that word? Yes, it means to eat meat!  Yes, ever since Noah we’ve been carnivores, like lions. Animals are afraid of us, even the predators.

So tell me: is it better to be in Eden or in the world of sin? Eden!  Yes, where nobody would kill or eat animals; and so they weren’t afraid of people. Well, during Lent, the Church encourages us to think about living as though we were in Eden, at least as far as animals are concerned. I like eating meat, but I admit that if I have a hamburger, someone killed a cow. In fact my eldest son has been a vegetarian for years because of this, and he’s perfectly healthy eating veggies. I admire that, even if I don’t follow his example. Yes? What are you giving up? Well, I don’t know yet; usually we do extra things during Lent instead of giving things up: go to Vespers and Stations of the Cross; go to confession, that sort of thing. But I tell you what, we gave up watching TV for Lent more than 15 years ago, and still don’t watch it. Really? Yep. You won’t watch the Super Bowl? Nope. Look, I thought I was gonna die the first week or so without TV, but we got used to it, and we like the house being quiet. What about your kids? They’re fine with it too- and we can watch DVDs if we want to. I think part of the point of giving something up is that you find out you don’t really need it or want it as much as you thought.

Hey, besides Lent, what else happens in February? No guesses? Let me ask the girls in particular: daughters, what special day comes in February? Valentine’s day! Yes, Saint Valentine’s feast day on the 14th. It’s Catholic. You boys ever heard of Valentine’s Day? Yes. Isn’t it exciting? No. Uh-huh; you’ll change that tune soon enough. No we won’t! Uh-huh. So what happens on Valentine’s? People get candy and cards and stuff. Yes, it’s very romantic, right boys? Boys…?

Speaking of Valentine’s Day, tell me about those fat winged babies [I draw] on the cards. Aren’t they angels? Sort of. How about the one with the arrows? He’s Cupid! Yes who is a…Roman god! Yes, make-believe, of course. You might say he’s been baptized into Valentine’s Day. The proper word for those flying chubbies is “putti.” Pooty!? Ha, pooty! Not pooty: put-ti, it’s Italian. But no American wants to think, “hey, look at the pooty all over that Valentine’s day card.” So we use another word….anyone know it? No? That’s ok.

 Happy Valentine’s Day!

Who knows what a cherub is? They’re the little baby Valentine angels! Yes, you got it, they’re cuddly and silly. But a real cherub is not cuddly and silly. Somebody tell me about Adam & Eve after the apple. God made them leave Eden! Yes. Genesis says, “He drove out the man; and at the east of the Garden of Eden he placed the cherub[im], with a flaming sword which turned every way, to guard the way to the tree of life.” What language do you suppose “cherub” is if I’m reading from Genesis? Umm…Hebrew? Yes, genius! In Hebrew it’s spelled like this [on the board]: K-E-R-U-B, kerub. Kerub means “near one,” an angel who is close to God. When the President goes out in public there are usually some tough guys who stay near him all the time, why’s that? They keep people from bothering him. Yes, what do you call those guys? Bodyguards? Yes. The kerubs, the cherubim, are like God’s bodyguards, and they are as serious as cancer. On Valentine’s Day I’m my wife’s Kerub-with-a-K. Don’ make me git my flamin’ sword out! Keep away! Hey, did y’all know we have two kerubs in our church? We do? Where? Mmm, I’m not telling tonight, but we’ll find out later this year.

In the meantime keep your eyes open in church. If you find ‘em on your own, tell us.

Class over!

Pitchers 9, Res Ipsa 11: Prior Knowledge

You feed ‘em!
Partial board from the Jan 25, 2012 class. Lesson plan runs from Feeding the Multitudes to the Bread of Life Discourse, to Simon’s name-change to Peter.

Now that Jesus is busy-busy with his ministry, the Gospels run thick and fast with references to the Old Testament. Loaves’n'Fishes is introduced by an edited version of 2Kings 4:42-44:

“42 A man came from Baal-shalishah, bringing the man of God bread of the first fruits, twenty loaves of barley, and fresh ears of grain in his sack. And Elisha said, “Give to the men, that they may eat.” 43 But his servant said, “How am I to set this before a hundred men?” So he repeated, “Give them to the men, that they may eat, for thus says the LORD, ‘They shall eat and have some left.’” 44 So he set it before them. And they ate, and had some left, according to the word of the LORD.”

We also look at Matt 19:13-15 for reasons that become apparent as we get into the Loaves story:

“Then children were brought to him that he might lay his hands on them and pray. The disciples rebuked the people; 14 but Jesus said, “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them; for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.” 15 And he laid his hands on them and went away.”

During Peter-gets-the-Keys, the kids barely recalled Isaiah 22, which we acted out a couple of months ago:

“I will call my servant Eliakim the son of Hilkiah, 21 and I will clothe him with your robe, and will bind your girdle on him, and will commit your authority to his hand; and he shall be a father to the inhabitants of Jerusalem and to the house of Judah. 22 And I will place on his shoulder the key of the house of David; he shall open, and none shall shut; and he shall shut, and none shall open.”

Past classes needed little-to-no reminding about Isaiah 22, but this year I almost had to give them the answer, which is anathema to me. Anyway, they finally remembered the key business, but with such coaxing! But the 8 kids who came were tired; and they were guessing like monkeys, which means answering first, then thinking.

On the whole it was still a good class.

Spirituality for 2012 – part 2

Talk about famous last words…I concluded my last post on Amazing Catechists – “Spirituality for 2012” – with the statement, “I will be publishing a follow-up to this article in a few days.”  Ummmm….that was over a month ago.  Yikes!  Obviously, I need to invest in a new watch or a new planner.  Or maybe I should learn how to use the ones I have!

I suppose I could have moved on and written about something else; I haven’t seen any indications that the masses are sitting on the edge of their seat waiting for the conclusion to my ideas about spirituality in 2012.  However, the ideas that I started kicking around in my head over a month ago are still floating around up there (which I’m interpreting as a good sign) and so I really felt like I needed to get out what I’ve been thinking.

I would certainly encourage you to familiarize yourself with my first posting prior to jumping ahead into this one.  The overarching theme for that first post can be expressed in the following statement from the former Master General of the Dominican Order, Fr. Timothy Radcliffe, OP, who once said the Christian life is one that is “moral, reflective, prayerful, and imaginative.”

The big news story in the United States, as far as the Catholic Church goes, is the recent decision by the Obama administration to demand that sterilization, abortifacients and contraception be included in virtually all health plans, including ones provided by employers who have a moral objection to such procedures and prescriptions (e.g. Catholic Church).  In addition to the news cycle, there is a constant stream of commentary on what the Church should do in response to it.  Admittedly, I have contributed to that stream on my own blog.

But as I keep tabs on that developing story line in the news, I come back to this post on spirituality and on looking forward in 2012 and I see a connection that I didn’t see 5 1/2 weeks ago when I wrote the first installment.  So instead of being distracted maybe it was the Holy Spirit that lead me to wait so long to write part two.  :-)

In the ongoing remarks on the USCCB and HHS, I’ve seen a lot of commentators offer potential responses the Church should take.  The two most common are: 1) the Church should just retreat in to itself and 2) the Church should just get with the times.  I would like to label these two ideas as the “Catholic Ghetto” and “assimilation,” respectively.  Additionally, I would add that both of them are dead-ends.

The idea or label, “Catholic Ghetto,” does not belong to me.  I think a good definition of it is provided here:

It is common for certain sociologist and theologians to refer to the Catholic situation of the 1940’s and 50’s as a time when the Church in America lived in a Catholic ghetto.  What this is getting at is that the Catholic population in the U.S. lived as a minority population that held together strongly by means of clearly defining itself over and against the rest of American culture.

As parishes in the United States became less nationalistic and more inclusive of a variety of ethnicities, the Catholic Ghetto largely broke apart.  For the most part, the break up of Catholic Ghettos is a good thing because in addition to the ones listed above, another of its characteristics was that Catholics “did not see themselves as called to influence the culture around them,” a view that is contrary to both scripture and the Church’s teaching.

You can still see some signs of the Catholic Ghetto mentality.  For example Tom Monaghan, the founder of Domino’s Pizza, has tried to create a “Catholic” town in Ave Maria, Florida.  In this town, with Monaghan’s Catholic College in the center, Catholic families will live together, their children will grow up with other Catholics, marry other Catholics, and live in Ave Maria.  Monaghan’s vision is founded on the premise that Christianity, along with many academic disciplines, was kept alive in the Dark Ages in monasteries; they were small pockets of truth in an otherwise corrupt world.  At first brush this idea seems solid but as I’ll point out later, it is not without significant flaws.

The other dead-end is “assimilation,” where Catholicism just becomes like everything else and Catholics look like everyone else.  Through assimilation, Jesus can henceforth be referred to as a “good man” and Christianity can be seen by society as “good thing” but neither should be spoken too loudly.  In this way, Catholics and the faith they profess becomes invisible.  In 1994, Jonathan Sacks wrote a book called, “Will we have Jewish Grandchildren?“  In it, he reflects on how to keep the faith of Jewish antiquity alive and flourishing in future generations.  This idea is something we also need to reflect on within the Catholic community.

I think of an oak tree with its roots running deep into the ground where it draws life giving nutrients and water, the things necessary for its survival.  The trunk of the tree, its base, provides the foundation for continued growth.  But ask yourself: where do we see the greatest signs of life on a tree?  Do we see it when we look at its trunk?  No.  It is when we look at its tips, where new leaves sprout each spring.  We see the greatest signs of life, growth, and vitality at its extreme ends.  But all parts, from the massive trunk to the smallest buds sprouting at the tips of the highest branch, are 100% oak tree.

The tree is a familiar metaphor for the Body of Christ, the Church.  The ground represents God where the tree trunk (i.e. the Church) is firmly planted.  It is the ground (God) that feeds the oak tree (Church) all it needs to survive.  From the trunk, branches (individual Catholics) grow, reaching out in an endless amount of directions, always springing forth with new signs of life and vitality.  This metaphor shows us God’s plan.

God has promised to provide everything we need, but we can’t get it when we are not connected to the tree trunk; we can’t just be a branch suspended in the air (cf. Jn 15:5).  Nor can we be a branch just laying on the ground, cut away from the tree.  When that happens, the tree is weakened and the direction that particular branch was growing out towards will not be reached.  The fallen away branch just lays on the ground and eventually dies.  It is possible, indeed it is necessary, for the tree branches (Catholics) to be 100% Catholic and reaching out to a world that is not the same as itself.

The unity within Catholicism of God, the Church, and its people, is an earthly example of the the most perfect unity, that of The Blessed Trinity.  The doctrine of the Trinity is what Christianity has that no other religion does and we can demonstrate it by living our lives, firmly grounded in the Church.  In fact, I would submit the doctrine of the Trinity may be the most important aspect of a spirituality for 2012 and beyond.

During the Enlightenment, man developed a deep seated resentment towards doctrine, especially Catholic doctrine.  Nicholas Lash wrote in his book, Believing Three Ways in One God:

The Enlightenment left us with what we might call a crisis of docility. Unless we have the courage to work things out for ourselves, to take as true only that which we have personally attained or, perhaps, invented, then meanings and values, descriptions and instructions, imposed by other people, feeding other people’s power, will inhibit and enslave us, bind us into fables and falsehoods from the past. Even God’s truth, perhaps especially God’s truth, is no exception to this rule. Only slaves and children should be teachable, or docile.

But the ancient doctrine of the Trinity, regardless of what those enlightened individuals might believe, may be the most exciting thing we have to offer as Catholics.  However, it will only be exciting if it is in contact with something outside of itself.  Keeping it locked up, like in a Catholic Ghetto, will strip the doctrine of all its power and vitality.

The doctrine of the Trinity is often held up as something remote and obscure.  I would submit that it only becomes remote and obscure in its presentation, not in its actuality.  The best way Catholics can communicate the truths encapsulated in the doctrine of the Trinity is to communicate their faith in the doctrine through conversation.  It is the personal aspect of taking time to talk with people that will resonate with others.

This should make perfect sense to us!  After all, what is the Trinity but the eternal, equal, living conversation between the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit?  Additionally, we see the Trinity made real for us in the person of Jesus, who, among many other things, is a man of conversation.  Take a look at him through the eyes of John.

  • Jesus’ conversations when calling his disciples (Jn 1:29-51)
  • The conversation with Nicodemus who came to talk to Jesus at night (Jn 3)
  • The conversation with the Samaritan Woman at the well (Jn 4:4-42)
  • The Bread of Life Discourse (Jn 6:22-71)
  • The conversation with the woman caught in adultery (Jn 8:1-11)
  • The conversation with the man born blind (Jn 9)
  • Last Supper discourses (Jn 14)
  • Jesus’ conversation with Pilate (Jn 18:28-40)
  • Jesus’ conversation with Thomas (Jn 20:24-29)

There are a couple of keys to understanding these passages and to ultimately discerning our own response to challenges in our time.  Jesus was constantly in conversation with people and not just his disciples, but he was reaching out to people that were outside his “comfort zone” or outside convention (e.g. conversation with the Samaritan woman).  We continually see Jesus in contact with “the other” and offering them the love and peace of his father.  This is what the Catholic Ghetto can not do.  It betrays the openness to the other that is so obvious in the Gospel.

Secondly, true conversation, the type that has the potential to be life-changing, is open, mutually respectful, and loving.  We don’t see Jesus talking down to people nor do we witness him talking about people; rather, he spoke to them.  The story of the man born blind really illustrates that point.

Third, everyone that hears the conversation is converted.  Converted to what and to what degree can not necessarily be determine and in the grand scheme of things, it is not that important that we know.  A good conversation will take you to unfamiliar ground and lead you in unexpected directions.  Through them, all will grow in grace.  We are not in charge of that grace; at best, we can only hope to be channels of it.

We never know who may be touched by our conversations.  It may be the person we are most directly involved in speaking with is the least moved, but the person who merely overheard it is changed for ever.  Jesus held many conversations in crowds, big and small, and we read in the scriptures how people would “murmur” among themselves while Jesus spoke.  They were being touched by what Jesus had to say and they weren’t even in the conversation.

Our thinking is mostly dualistic: white/black, up/down, left/right, Republican/Democrat, Catholic/Protestant, etc.  It is these oppositions that help give us our identity.  But this dualism, does not allow for openness or for love.  Instead we should allow ourselves to be swept up in a Trinitarian love that opens up possibilities for going places beyond these simplistic, either/or distinctions.  We can be immersed in the love between the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  This love is not introverted; it can not be kept in a ghetto.  Indeed, it is the Holy Spirit that pushes us to be in contact with people and situations that are beyond ourselves.  It is so alive, so bursting forth with vitality that it can not be made to look like everything else (i.e. assimilated).

The doctrine of the Trinity is the most exciting thing we have to offer others.  It is what should guide our spirituality in 2012 and beyond.  It is the doctrine behind the words of the God who says: “Behold, I make all things new” (Rev 21:5)

 

I am indebted to Fr. Timothy Radcliffe, OP who has helped me see these things in a new, fresh way.


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