Healthcare Prediction

I would like to make a prediction. If the healthcare reform legislation currently on the floor of the House of Representatives is passed, healthcare costs will rise, and Republicans will say that it is because of the legislation forced through in a very partisan way by the Democrats. On the other hand, if the current bill is defeated, healthcare costs will increase, and Democrats will say that it is because of Republican obstructionism that blocked the reform that was needed. Either way, costs are going to go up, and somebody will get the blame. That's called spin, and it's one of the things I hate about politics (others including, but not limited to, the corrupting influence of money and the character assassination committed upon opponents).

My personal opinion (it's worth what you pay for it) is that the Democrat bill will do more harm than good by doing two things (setting aside for the moment the evil of Government-funded abortion). First it will start us down the road to a system of nationalized healthcare in which attempts to control costs will be made by bureaucratized boards who effectively ration care. These are the famous "death panels." They won't explicitly condemn anyone to death, rather they will rule that your loved ones don't qualify for the medical treatment that will extend their life. The second harm of the Democrat-favored reform is the damage it will do to the already fragile economy, in the form of increased taxation.

That's not to say that we should do nothing. We need to address tort reform and pre-existing conditions. There are, of course, details that would need to be worked out, but I see no reason why such focused and limited reform cannot be drafted and enacted in a bi-partisan fashion. The cost of premiums would be adjusted by market forces to accommodate the new coverage requirements.

Unless, that is, some of the politicians controlling the process are only really interested in feathering their own beds. If that is the case, then our only hope is to defeat them completely.

Incredibly Sacred

Anybody with children has probably seen the Pixar film, The Incredibles. It tells the story of two super-heroes, Mr. Incredible and Elastigirl, who get married and then to into a super-hero relocation program after the trial lawyers turn public sentiment against the "supers." The two have children and try to raise them in anonymity.

There is a scene in the film where their son, Dash, who has the gift of super-speed, is frustrated that he is not allowed to use his ability. He has a special gift, he argues, to which his mother replies that everyone's special. "Which is another way of saying no one is," he answers glumly.

Why do I bring up this scene from the Incredibles? Because of something that I read this weekend, in which the author was trying to assert that "everything is sacred: all places, all of creation, all of the times in our lives are sacred." To apply Dash's logic, that means that nothing is.

I can agree that all of creation is good, and can lead to an encounter with God. It's possible to meet God in a grove of trees. But in that case, you don't encounter God there because the grove is sacred, the grove becomes sacred because that is where you encounter God. When Moses encountered the burning bush, the voice told him to remove his shoes, because he was standing on sacred ground. This is sacred ground. When Moses left the area and left the presence of God, he was, presumably, no longer on sacred ground, and could place his shoes back on his feet.

Every sacramental celebration is an encounter with the divine and is, therefore, sacred. They typically take place is a consecrated space - a space set aside in a special way for sacramental celebrations. The consecration makes the space (i.e,, the church or chapel) sacred. When we start speaking in the language of universal sacredness, we risk losing our appreciation for the unique character of the truly sacred. If the grocery store is sacred, then why not offer mass in the bread aisle?

I hope that the words I quoted were just not well chosen, and that they would be withdrawn and revised if questioned. It is representative, however, of a dangerous attitude. We cannot afford to treat the good as sacred, nor can we afford to treat the sacred as merely good.

Remember how we started with the Incredibles? Well, the villain in the Incredibles is an inventor who goes by the name of Syndrome. Just before he's captured by Syndrome, Mr. Incredible learns that Syndrome has killed off nearly every other super. "You mean you killed off real heroes so that you could *pretend* to be one?" Syndrome replies, "Oh, I'm real. Real enough to defeat you! And I did it without your precious gifts, your oh-so-special powers. I'll give them heroics. I'll give them the most spectacular heroics the world has ever seen! And when I'm old and I've had my fun, I'll sell my inventions so that *everyone* can have powers. *Everyone* can be super! And when everyone's super-- [chuckles evilly] --no one will be."

Apocalyptic Dreams

I had an interesting dream the other night. It was three o’clock in the afternoon, and I was at work. It was dark outside, and we were all sitting in our cubicles without any electricity, while the secretary went from person to person letting us know that the boss was sending us home.

Why was it dark, why was there no electricity, and how did I know that it was three o’clock? Given the tradition that Jesus died on the cross at three o’clock and that darkness covered the land while the earth shook and rocks split (see Matthew 27:45-56), the whole thing was frightfully apocalyptic.

The Phone in the Confessional

National Public Radio reported Wednesday that a French company has set up a telephone service for folks who want to confess their sins, but aren’t contrite enough to actually go to a church to speak with a priest. The French bishops are, understandably, not on board with the project.

To it’s credit, the service advises callers that anyone in a state of mortal sin needs to make a real confession

Stories like this one often remind me of the parish in Northern Virginia that we belonged to during my navy years. One of the confessionals had a telephone handset on the wall next to the screen. The telephone was to be used any time that Father Most, who was hard of hearing, was on the other side of the screen. The phone in the confessional led me many times to wonder whether one could, in fact, call-in a confession. The validity of the sacrament, after all, does not require any physical contact between the penitent and the confessor. Priests routinely bless television audiences, and some might argue that, if the priest offering the blessing intends it, the blessing could even extend to viewers of encore presentations. Could a viewer with a DVR then rewind the program and receive multiple blessings? There’s a hint of snark in the question, but the question remains, I think, legitimate.

And yet, a blessing is not a sacrament, and there is a lot of material that suggests that the sacraments do not have an infinite range (in the normal order of things – God, of course, is not rigidly bound by such rules, as the Centurion would surely attest). Viewing a televised mass from home does not fulfill the Sunday obligation, yet listening to a mass from an adjoining chamber (e.g., a crying room for parents of infants and toddlers) does. It is not, therefore, a line-of-sight phenomenon.

There are practical considerations in the matter of confession, as well. Privacy and the potential for eavesdropping is very real concern. There may be other concerns as well, on a pastoral level. There exists, as in all things, a potential for abuse. It is, I am convinced, a bad idea, and it is probably a violation of Canon Law [UPDATE: Yep, Canon 964], making it illicit. Whether or not it is licit could change over time. The question that I am asking is whether such a confession would be valid, and I think that the answer is that if the priest hears the confession in real time and says the words of absolution, the sins are absolved, subject to all of the usual disclaimers (nothing intentionally withheld, penance performed, etc.).

If I’m wrong, please let me know!

Cohabitation and Marriage

The New York Times recently reported on a Study by the National Center for Health Statistics which found that “couples who live together before they get married are less likely to stay married.” This is not news to anyone who cares about traditional marriage and pays attention to statistics and attitudes towards the social institution. What was surprising and shocking, to me at least, was a statistic cited by the authors of the study.

The authors found that the proportion of women in their late 30s who had ever cohabited had doubled in 15 years, to 61 percent.

Can that statistic possibly be correct? Note that the authors define cohabitation as “people who live with a sexual partner of the opposite sex.” The statistic suggests that, if you randomly select any ten women in their late 30s, six of them will have lived with a lover. The definition, however, might not rule out married couples. Most of us, when speaking of cohabiting couples, specifically mean unmarried couples. Later in the article, however, we learn an additional statistic.

The study found that, over all, 62 percent of women ages 25 to 44 were married and 8 percent were cohabiting.

That suggests that the study did not lump married couples in with unmarried cohabiting couples. In other words, the 61 percent figure would be applied to cohabitation outside of marriage. Taking a peak at the full report is not reassuring. The authors of the study did indeed exclude married couples from the cohabiting numbers. The percentage is actually higher (63 percent) for women in their early thirties, and the report is based on information gathered in 2002, so the numbers today are probably even worse.

Fear for the future and pray for your children.

(H/T KJL@NRO)

Holy Fear

Is it possible that preparing for mass by reading the selected scripture passages ahead of time can be a distraction? Too often, when I do so, my mind focuses on a particular phrase, such that throughout the Liturgy of the Word, I'm thinking about that one phrase - how the other readings are affected by it, how other non-selected parts of the scripture are affected by it, whether the celebrant will say anything about it in his homily, how it affects our broader spiritual life.

Almost invariably, the phrase upon which I've focused goes completely unnoticed by everyone else. It goes unmentioned in the homily, which I was only half-listening to because my attention was elsewhere. Truly full, conscious, and active participation in the mass, it seems, requires a self-discipline that I have yet to achieve.

The idea that commanded my attention this Sunday was holy fear. In the first reading from the Book of Genesis, we hear of God's promise to Abram (this was before his name was changed to Abraham). In obedience to God, Abram offers a sacrifice of a heifer, goat, ram, turtledove, and pigeon. All day long, the carcasses sit there, and Abram has to chase away the gathering vultures. As the day draws to a close, nothing has happened.

What happens next is what grabbed me: "As the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell on Abram; and lo, a dread and great darkness fell upon him" (Genesis 15:12).

God was about to act, and after chasing vultures all day, maybe Abram was questioning whether he had heard God's instruction correctly. We don't know why, but we know that Abram fell into a state of darkness and fear.

How can this be related to the other selected readings?

In Luke's gospel account of the Transfiguration, "a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were afraid as they entered the cloud" (Luke 9:34). In Matthew, the fear comes when they hear the voice: "When the disciples heard this, they fell on their faces, and they were filled with awe" (Matthew 17:6). According to Mark, they were afraid ever before the cloud or the voice from heaven: "And Peter said to Jesus, 'Master, it is well that we are here; let us make three booths, one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah.' For he did not know what to say, for they were exceedingly afraid" (Mark 9:5-6).

Fear, it seems, is the natural response to an encounter with the divine.

Jesus, however, "came and touched them, saying, 'Rise and have no fear.'" (Matthew 17:7) The responsorial psalm (which, regrettably, we didn't hear in our parish) tells us, "Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; yea, wait for the Lord!" (Psalm 27:14)

Fear of the Lord is one of the gifts of the Holy Spirit, and scripture (Proverbs 1:7) says that it is the beginning of wisdom. It is impossible not to be filled with awe when exposed to the full divinity of the creator of the universe. However, courage is also a gift of the Holy Spirit.

Like Abram, we must wait for the Lord, even when his promises seem delayed in coming. Even when his presence fills us with awe and fear, we still must be courageous in our obedience to his will.

It is easier said than done, as my personal failings demonstrate. God gives us sufficient grace, however, to make such courage and obedience possible for those who accept and cooperate with that grace.

The General Law of Wives

“All other things being equal, the ideological space between a male writer and his wife will shrink over time, with the husband moving the greater distance.”

Conservative pundit Jonah Goldberg presented his General Law of Wives in a recent Goldberg File, then went on to demonstrate the law in action based on the evolution of Paul Krugman’s writing over the years and a recent profile of Krugman in the New Yorker. Goldberg also cites a former boss of his who had worked in the Johnson administration. Although the law specifically applies to writers, it also appears to hold true for politicians and policy wonks. The James Carville and Mary Matalin union might be the exception that breaks the rule.

I don’t know how, if at all, the General Law of Wives applies to non-writers. If you’ve suffered through my little ramblings, you already know that I’m no writer. The mind of an engineer, my wife will surely tell you, is not like the minds of most other (i.e., normal) people. I like to think that, after 17 years of marriage, I’ve dragged my wife over to my way of thinking. Amy, bless her soul, allows me to persist in that belief.

The Bible supports Jonah’s law. Solomon, for all of his wisdom, was led astray by his wives: “As Solomon grew old, his wives turned his heart after other gods …” (1 Kings 11:4). It has always amazed me that the gift of wisdom did not protect Solomon from folly. Knowing what is right, good, and true, and doing it are two entirely different things.

Solomon was not alone among the kings of Israel and Judah that were led astray by their wives. Ahab was led by his wife Jezebel to worship Baal (1 Kings 16:31). Jehoram, as King of Judah, turned from the ways of his father, Jehoshaphat, and did evil “for he married a daughter of Ahab” (2 Kings 8:18). Jehoshaphat’s great failure as King of Judah was his alliance with Ahab, the King of Israel, sealed with the marriage of Jeshoshaphat’s son to Ahab’s daughter. The corruption and apostasy of the wife spread to the husband.

Hasn’t that been the story ever since the serpent talked Eve into eating the forbidden fruit?

Truth be told, neither Amy nor I had far to move, ideologically, and our spiritual progress has been in the same direction. We were pretty like-minded when we were married. I hope that a casual observer can see, though, why I worry about my future sons and daughters-in-law. It is important to me that my own children find spouses that don’t disregard religious truth and liturgy. If the General Law of Wives holds true, then I should especially worry for my son(s).

Almsgiving, Prayer, and Fasting

There's been a change of season, and we suddenly find ourselves in Lent. I'm surprised to say that I'm going to miss Ordinary Time, and with all the snow that February has brought to Ohio, I hope that the season of Winter ends soon, too.

Lent is a time of almsgiving, prayer, and fasting. In the gospel for the Ash Wednesday mass, Jesus addresses all three. Although all three are good, motives are important, he tells us. Almsgiving is a matter of charity and justice to our fellow man. Don't, therefore, make it about yourself. Don't announce your generosity so that other will think well of you. I can't help but wonder whether we're doing the right thing when, for example, our Knights of Columbus council has a public relations officer, whose job it is to announce our good works to the world. Our intention is to let people know that we are active in the community, but does that intention contradict gospel principles? Similar advice is often given regarding the Church: if only people knew all of the good that she does, they would attack her less. I suspect that attempts to improve the public image of the Church by trumpeting her good works would only create knew avenues of attack. That does not mean that we should actively conceal our good works. The point is not that our works be hidden, but that they not be done just to be seen.

Our Lord's advice on prayer and fasting is similar. He assumes that we will pray and fast (you do fast, don't you? I need to work on it!). Again, the point is that we should not do it in order to be seen doing it. It's not a condemnation of public prayer. If you go out to eat at a restaurant, don't refrain from blessing the food because other might see you. Rather, bless the food because you are thankful to God for his providence in supplying the food, and not because other diners might see you pray and think well of you.

The season of Lent is about conversion. My own conversion seems to be an ongoing process. Though I might wish that it were done and over with, God has instead decreed that it will occur daily. Every day requires a turning from sin. Every sin requires a reconciliation with God, for sin damages that relationship. Paul reminds the Corinthians that we should seek this reconciliation so that God grace will not be received in vain. I mourn for all of the grace that has been poured out upon me, seemingly to be wasted.

Our reconciliation and conversion is more than just external. Yes, God wants obedience, but what he desires is that our hearts be turned to him. Obedience will then be a fruit of love.

Unequal Rosaries

Not all rosaries are created equal, and I think that I might need to get myself a new one. The one that I've been favoring lately just isn't getting the job done. It looks nice, but it fails in functionality. It gets tangled in my pocket, and the loops are always falling apart. I pulled it out to use it the other night, and ended up with a crucifix and one bead in one hand and a mass of tangled beads in the other. I had to untangle the mass while praying the creed before I could even start to reattach the crucifix. It seems that it is more suited to decoration (I did say that it looks nice), than to prayer.

I have another rosary that works much better for prayer. It has a knotted fiber cord with rounded wood beads. It never tangles in my pocket. The only thing that gives me pause in using it is the fact that the centerpiece features a piece of dirt from an alleged Marian apparition site, with the name of the place prominently embossed. The local ordinary discourages pilgrimages, and there is enough questionable fruit associated with the place that I would prefer to steer clear. The rosary was a gift, and the giver told me that the Blessed Virgin herself blessed the rosary. That's kind of hard to verify, and it only increases my skepticism.

I have another gift rosary from another alleged apparition site. This one is supposed to contain a piece of paper from a book that was blessed by the Virgin Mary. These two rosaries are nice, but I can't help but feel like using them for prayer carries with it an implicit endorsement of the alleged apparitions. I wish that I still had the rosary that I received when I was initiated into the Knights of Columbus, but that one was lost somewhere years ago.

So, I'll be keeping my eyes open for a suitable rosary - one that won't get tangled up in my pocket and won't fall apart. One that doesn't promote an apparition that hasn't been approved by the Church. One that's made for prayer. I might just revert to the trusty finger rosary that I use when I run.

As for the one that I've been using: it will go back to a display state, ready if I should need it, but not in primary circulation.

Hitler Rails Against Pope Benedict

Ohay, I finally watched this one and just had to share it.

A Valid Marriage

It's no secret that the social institution of marriage is in a sorry state these days. Even sacramental marriage is suffering as evidenced by the large numbers of declarations of nullity granted by diocesan marriage tribunals in this country. I was once told by a tribunal administrator that American culture is dysfunctional with respect to marriage.

The Catholic Church has attempted to counter this trend by requiring those wishing to be married to participate in six-month marriage preparation programs and weekend retreats for engaged couples. In most cases, I think, these are viewed by engaged couples as hoops that they have to jump through in order to have their wedding presided over by a priest in their parish church. Some, no doubt, decide that they don't want to jump through the hoops and end up getting married out of the Church. For baptized Catholics, who are bound by Canon Law, the resulting union in invalid due to lack of form.

What are we to do about the marriage crisis in our Church?

The Archdiocese of Phoenix has decided that the current marriage requirements aren't rigorous enough. Rather than six months of preparation, Phoenix requires nine. In addition, all engaged couples will be required to complete a full course of instruction in Natural Family Planning. I applaud the intention and goals of these measures, but I can't help but think that the unintended consequence will be an increase in marriages that lack proper form because the couples decided the hoops are too onerous.

At the other end of the spectrum is a recent column by Fr. Peter Daly. His pastoral approach seems to be based on a pastoral imperative to deny the sacraments to no one. I might be reading too much into what he has written, but I believe that he is suggesting that if a couple wishes to be married in the church, but does not want to comply with all of the pre-requisites for a church marriage, the marriage ceremony should be performed anyway. God will work out the validity and the sacramentality. The problem here, however, is that the couple that refuses to submit to the disciplines of the Church at the time of the marriage probably does not possess the capacity to give consent to enter into marriage, as understood by the Church, at the time that the vows are exchanged. In other words, their union is no more a valid marriage than is that of the couple married outside of the Church, except that they have an ecclesiastical stamp of approval that reinforces an attitude that the Church has no role to play in how they conduct their personal lives.

There has to be a proper balance somewhere. Catechesis on marriage is incredibly important, but it has to be done well before a couple becomes engaged. Ideally, young adults should know what the Church teaches about marriage before they even start dating. Once they make the decision to wed, it's not unreasonable to ask them to undergo additional specific catechesis. There should, however, always be some room for pastoral prudence. Some couples approach marriage with a better spiritual formation, and others have legitimate reasons for not being able to fulfill all of the usual conditions. That's why Canon Law allows provisions for bishops to relax the requirements of certain canons.

It's a mistake, however, to allow the laws of the Church regarding marriage to be held hostage by engage couples. Pretending the laws don't exist solely to keep titular Catholics from leaving the Church does nothing to strengthen the Body of Christ. The Church teaches with authority. To pretend otherwise is to undermine that very authority.

I Gotta Have Faith

There is a brand of evangelical Christianity that preaches a gospel of worldly success. It is sometimes referred to as the “health and wealth” gospel, promoting a “name it and claim it” theology. It seemed to reach a fever pitch a few years ago when the Prayer of Jabez suddenly rose to prominence from obscurity in Chapter 4 of 1 Chronicles.

The danger in emphasizing such a message is that is implies that poor health or poverty is the result of a lack of faith, and that true believers will be rewarded by God in this life. Jesus, however, never promised riches; he promised the cross and persecution. Paul did not boast of his stock portfolio, he boasted of his trials. Even when we consider the great modern witnesses of Christ – Mother Teresa of Calcutta or Pope John Paul the Great – we see examples not of reward in this life, but of loving union with the sufferings endured by Our Lord.

And yet, the name it and claim it crowd just might be on to something.

In the gospels, it seems as though those with the greatest faith are healed by Jesus with the least effort. Most of the miracles performed by Jesus include a physical sign that foreshadows the sacraments – the rubbing of mud onto the eyes of a blind man, for example. The Centurion’s servant, however, was cured without Jesus even needing to go to the house, based on the faith of the Centurion. The woman with the hemorrhage was healed because she believed that she would be, if only she touched the hem of Jesus’ robe.

In contrast, when Jesus returned to his home territory, the people did not believe, and there were no miracles.

In addition, Jesus tells parables that suggest that, if we ask persistently, God will answer are prayers – “Ask and you will receive. Knock and the door will be opened.”

That leaves us where we started. What about the poor and the afflicted? Are they poor and afflicted because they lack faith? My thought on the matter is breaking down along two parallel questions. First, is it appropriate to pray for relief? Second, if a prayer is unanswered, does it indicated a lack of faith in the pray-er?

Why wouldn’t somebody pray to be relieved from poverty or illness? We’ve come to see suffering in all its forms as bad, something to be avoided. Yet, we are told in the letter to the Hebrews that Christ himself learned obedience through what he suffered. We certainly are not greater than our master, so if suffering was good for him, why would it not be good for us? Our suffering can be redemptive, when it is joined to those of our Savior. And so the saints not only do not avoid suffering, they embrace it, because it strengthens their identification with Christ. Their example seems to indicate that true faith will not seek material prosperity.

And yet, such prayers can be offered selflessly. Building a hospital or an orphanage requires funding. It would be silly to think that a saint would not pray to God to provide the funds for such an endeavor. A young mother dying of cancer, should pray for healing not for her sake, but for that of her children. A business owner should pray for the success of his company, not so that his wealth will increase, but so that he will increase the greater good of the community by boosting the local economy.

So material blessings from God can and should be prayed for, but only for unselfish reasons. As St. John of the Cross taught, even prayer, if offered for selfish intentions, can be a source of sin.

What then, are we to conclude from prayers that seem to go unanswered? The short answer is: nothing. I know a man who has hemophilia. At one point, he was told by somebody whom I’m sure had good intentions that if he prayed with sufficient faith to be healed, then he would be. He prayed. As far as I know, he still has hemophilia. Does that mean that his faith is somehow defective? By no means! This man’s faith exceeds my own (perhaps my faith is more defective than his). Although he has hemophilia, he continues to live, to contribute to the greater good of the community, and to share the gospel. No less a person than St. Paul complained of a thorn in the flesh, which he prayed to God to remove. The thorn remained. Are we really to conclude that St. Paul lacked faith?

We know that God answers prayers. We cannot know, however, why he answers some and not others. He has his reasons; that should be enough for us.

Presidential Smarts

While travelling last week, I found myself stuck in a Tennessee ice storm (how often does that happen?). With a little time on my hands, I chanced to peruse a recent copy of Newsweek magazine. What I learned is that the failure of President Barack Obama's policy agenda is his own fault. You see, he's just too smart. He's leading with his head rather than his heart, and those of us who don't want to go where he would lead our country are just too dim to appreciate his brilliance.

This is the smartest president in modern history, maybe even the smartest ever. We would all be better off if we just let him do all our thinking for us.

Haven't we been here before? Haven't we, fairly recently, had apresident who was hailed as being magnificently intelligent? Just consider the classic Dan Aykroyd skit from Saturday Night Live, in which he lampooned the celebrated smarts of President Jimmy Carter, the last smartest president ever, then ask yourself, just how did that administration work out for us? By the time he left office, we faced unemployment, inflation, and high interest rates. Fifty Americans had been held hostage in Iran, and our military was humiliated by a botched rescue attempt.

Maybe the ability to quote Reihold Neibuhr should not be the criteria upon which we judge the intelligence of the man (or woman!) we place in the oval office.

Called to Make Noise

Most of those who comment on the story of the Gerasene demoniac in Mark 5:1-20 focus their reflection on the reaction of the villagers. They see the afflicted man, clothed and sane, and they are afraid. Then they hear about their lost pigs, and they plead with Jesus to leave. They would rather have the poor soul still possessed by demons if it would give them back their herd of swine. Their priorities are grossly misplaced.

There are two points, however, from the last few verses that I rarely see anybody raise.

First, the man is not told to remain silent about what has been done for him. Throughout the Gospel of Mark, we repeatedly see Jesus heal people only to turn around and tell them to keep it a secret. The reason for the messianic secrecy is not clear, but it might have to do with Jesus recognizing that too much publicity could create crowds that would have a negative impact on his ministry. Jesus doesn’t do this with the Gerasene, through. To him, he says, “Go home to your family and tell them how much the Lord has done for you.” Not only does he not command him to secrecy, he tells him to talk about it!

The second point is a vocational one. The Gerasene, having been rid of his demons, wanted to follow Jesus as one of his disciples. Jesus had a different mission for him, though. This, I think, highlights the idea that vocational discernment, while personal and subjective to the individual, is not purely private. Some might think that they are called or want to be called to a religious vocation. God, however, might have different plans. Vocational discernment, then, should never be a case of a young man saying, “I want to be a priest,” or an older man saying, “I want to be a deacon.” Rather, it should be a case of the man saying, “I think that I’m being called.” At that point, the Church must help the soul who thinks that God is calling him to discover just what vocation God is calling him to embrace. It’s possible that, like the Gerasene, the call is to be a light to friends and family rather than to ordained service.

Picture the Scene

When I try to imagine the scene of this past Saturday’s gospel selection for mass, I can’t help but raise my eyebrows and ask, “What the heck was going on?”

Jesus had just selected his twelve apostles and returned to his home. “The crowd came together again,” Mark tells us, “so that they could not even eat.” (Mk 3:20). I can picture the crowd pressing in upon him, seeking to be cured of their diseases. A few verses earlier, just before he picked his apostles, Mark related how Jesus “told his disciples to have a boat ready for him because of the crowd, lest they should crush him.” (Mk 3:9) Perhaps the crowd was getting out of hand, maybe even on the verge of a violent riot.

The unruliness of the crowd did not go unnoticed. “And when his friends heard it, the went out to seize him, for they said, ‘He is beside himself.’” (Mk 3:21) The crowd was large enough and loud enough to attract the attention of the friends of Jesus. It’s not clear to me whether these “friends” were apostles, disciples, or friendly acquaintances. Later, Mark will specifically mention his mother and brethren (Mk 3:31), so these are probably not they.

Those attempting to intercede appear to be concerned not about the state of the crowd, but about the state of Our Lord. “He is beside himself.” This is where my eyebrows start going up. With the crowd pressing in, what was Jesus’ behavior, evoking the concern of his friends? When we say that someone is beside himself, we typically mean that the person is in a highly emotional state. This is a stark contrast to my usual image of Jesus as a man firmly in control of his emotions. I can picture his anger at the money changers in the temple or at the Pharisees, and I can picture his sorrow at the death of Lazarus or the impending doom of Jerusalem. Even in these moments of emotion, however, I never imagine Christ as “beside himself.” What was going on here?

The gospel passage read at mass stops here. For Mark, though, this is only the beginning of the paragraph. What happens in the next verse is directly related to the two preceding verses: “And the scribes who came down from Jerusalem said, ‘He is possessed by Beelzebul, and by the prince of demons he casts out demons.’” (Mk 3:22) My eyebrows are now fully raised.

What caused the scribes to reach this conclusion? Was it the behavior of the crowd? Was it the apparent mental state of Jesus? Was it the actions of his friends? Was it a combination of the three? I really don’t know how to picture the scene!

A Counter-Cultural Canon

Sometimes, being counter-cultural is no fun, especially if you’re doing it not because you want to, but because you are obliged to.

I’m speaking of Canon 1250.

The Code of Canon Law is binding on all Latin Rite Catholics. Eastern Rite Catholics have their own code (the Code of Canons of the Eastern Churches). Canon 1250 is the law that stipulates that every Friday is to be a day of penance. The standard form for the penance is abstinence from meat, but Catholics in the United States are allowed to substitute some other form of penance. Following the Second Vatican Council, most Catholics were told that they were now allowed to eat meat on Friday, and the requirement for a substitute penance was never heard. The American Bishops’ reasoning, it seems, was that abstinence from meat wasn’t enough of a sacrifice: “Since the spirit of penance primarily suggests that we discipline ourselves in that which we enjoy most, to many in our day abstinence from meat no longer implies penance, while renunciation of other things would be more penitential.”

I’ve been thinking about Canon 1250 ever since I saw it mentioned recently on another blog (God Is With Us), and I’ve concluded that it truly is a counter-cultural canon. I say that because Friday, in American culture, is anything but penitential. We have casual Friday and Friday Fun Day. Friday ends the work week and initiates the weekend. Friday night is the time to party. I would be so much easier to do penance on Monday or Wednesday.

But the Code says Fridays are penitential, in memory of Our Lord’s Passion.

Perversely, I try to have it both ways. I celebrate the end of the week, but I do it without eating meat. The abstinence acts as a reminder of my Catholic identity, but it hardly rises to the level of penance. I have, regrettably, given in to the temptation to minimalize, doing the least necessary to comply with the letter of the law, while happily whistling past the spirit of the law.

It is yet another sign that my conversion is incomplete.

I want to be obedient. I recognize the authority of the Church not only to teach doctrine, but to regulate the spiritual disciplines of her members. When the world calls us to celebration, but the bride of Christ calls us to prayer and sacrifice, I pray that I will have the wisdom and courage to follow where He would lead.

Oh Lord, purify my heart and rid me of my selfish inclinations.

Pacwa on Samuel

The non-Gospel Lectionary readings for the first two weeks of Ordinary Time are coming from 1 Samuel. We've heard of how Hannah's prayer was answered with the birth of Samuel, how Samuel served Eli and was called by God to be a prophet and judge. We've heard how Samuel annointed Saul king of Israel, and of Saul's disobedience. Very soon, Saul will annoint David and, after Saul's death, David will become king of Israel.

With Samuel on the mind, I've been listening to some of Fr. Mitch Pacwa's Old Testament Prophets series. Episode 5 covers young Samuel and Episode 6 covers Samuel as kingmaker and king breaker.

Interesting stuff, worth a listen.

Wouldn't It Be Nice If . . . ?

Every now and then, the scriptures contain a hint of something that leads to a “wouldn’t it be nice if” supposition. Sometimes, the supposition has a lot of historical support and can be found in the early Church tradition or the exegesis of the Church Fathers. At other times, there’s no support for it at all.

One example of this is in the lineage of Mary. It is widely believed that Mary, like Joseph, was descended from the line of David, giving Jesus not just a legal claim to the royal lineage, but a natural one as well. The Gospel of Luke, however, contains the detail that Elizabeth was a descendant of Aaron. Wouldn’t it be nice if, like her kinswoman Elizabeth, Mary was also a daughter of Aaron?

Jesus was (is) a divine person with a divine nature and a human nature. He was also the prophet, priest, and king par excellence. In his divinity, he possessed all of the qualities necessary for this triple role from eternity. In his humanity, however, these roles would need to be acquired according to human tradition.

The royal claim is clearly established through Matthew’s genealogical map from Abraham through David to Joseph, the husband of Mary.

The role of prophet is not passed on through blood lines; rather, God calls the prophet. This call and public commission by God the Father was given to Jesus after his baptism by John, when the Holy Spirit descended upon him and drove him into the desert to be tempted.

But what about the priestly office? How does Jesus lay claim to the priesthood in human terms? There were two kinds of priesthood under the Torah, and both were handed on by bloodline. Intercession between God and man was entrusted to the descendants of Aaron, and they were assisted by the tribe of Levi.

If Mary, like her cousin Elizabeth, was descended from Aaron, then it all gets wrapped together nicely. The royal claim is through Joseph, the priestly claim is through Mary, and the prophetic claim is through the events of the Baptism.

The Catholic Encyclopedia entry for the Blessed Virgin Mary indicates that Mary might have been both. Her father, Joachim, might have been a descendent of David and her mother, Anne, a descendent of Aaron. For the most part, though, the most we can do regarding the lineage of Mary is speculate.

A Future Without Down Syndrome?

As the father of a child with Down syndrome, I have mixed feelings about Dana Goldstein’s piece in The Daily Beast, ”A Future Without Down Syndrome?”. On the one hand, it’s always nice to read of parents who have come to embrace the treasures that their non-typical children are. But on the other hand, I am a little disheartened by some of the underlying assumptions: particularly that only the “very religious” or the uneducated would choose to carry to term a baby diagnosed with Trisomy 21, or that advocates are motivated by a desire not to see their child’s peer group shrink.

Ms. Goldstein, unfortunately, reflects a significant portion of American society. Too many people, it seems to me, have children for the wrong reason. Their motivations are fundamentally selfish, and they are devastated if the child is born with imperfections. The birth of a child should never be the cause of depression! (Yes, I realize that post-partum depression is real. I don't think we're talking about that here, though."

There is a curious statistic cited. “According to a study published last month in the journal Pediatrics, between 1979 and 2003, the number of babies born with the condition increased from nine to about 12 per 10,000 births.” Just how that statistic is reconciled with the contradictory, and oft-cited, statistic that as many as 90% of Down syndrome pregnancies are terminated by abortion is a mystery. Methinks maybe I should take a peak at that study.

As with many on-line articles, the comments provide some “interesting” perspectives.

Baptized for Our Sake

During Lent, as we approach Good Friday, the Lectionary leads us, in the gospel selections for the weekday mass, through progressive miracles performed by Jesus in the Gospel of John and His conflict with the Pharisees. As I followed along last year, I couldn’t help but wonder where I would have found myself. The man Jesus was teaching some pretty radical things and making appeals to authority to which no man could claim. My conclusion at that time was that the raising of Lazarus would have been a game changer for me. I might have had doubts before that, but certainly not after.

Today, the Church brings to a close the Christmas season by celebrating the Baptism of Our Lord. In the events of the Baptism, we see a public manifestation of God the Father recognizing in Jesus the authority that he already possessed. Some might argue that, on a human level, Jesus didn’t know his mission until after his Baptism. Pope Benedict XVI, however, warns against trying to psychoanalyze our Lord and the impact that his baptism by John had upon his self-awareness. “The texts give us no window into Jesus’ inner life – Jesus stands above our psychologizing.”

Imagine being present in the crowd that day. John was widely regarded to be an authentic prophet, the likes of which hadn’t been seen in Israel hundreds of years. John himself not only denied that he was the Christ, but testified that another was coming who was much greater than he. John was not fit to untie the thong of his sandal, and he would baptize with the fire and the spirit, rather than with the mere water that John used. One day, while baptizing in the Jordan, a man comes out with the crowds, and John says, “Behold the lamb of God!” The man wants John to baptize him, and John tries to demur, saying, “I need to be baptized by you!” The man insists, and John obeys. Then something truly amazing happens. The heavens open, and the spirit of God visibly descends upon the man, and a voice from heaven declares the man his Son!

All four gospels are in agreement regarding the phenomena that accompanied the Baptism of Jesus. For a person present at the Baptism, it would not have been so hard to accept the controversial claims of the man Jesus. It would not have taken the raising of Lazarus. My personal conclusion is that the descent of the Holy Spirit and the affirmation of the Father were not for the sake of the Son. The Son knew who he was, but no one else did. It had been thirty years since the angels announced the birth of the messiah to the shepherds and the magi had brought him gifts. Now that he was to begin his public ministry, it was necessary to renew his divine certification.

Whenever I purchase gasoline, the pump is marked with the Auditor’s seal. The presence of the seal certifies that I’m getting what I think I’m getting. Placing the seal on the pump does not change the way the pump works, and it doesn’t change what comes out of the nozzle. It gives me confidence that it is what it says it is. In the same way, the dove and the voice after Jesus’ Baptism gave those who witnessed it confidence that Jesus was who he said he was.

Jesus didn’t need the Baptism, we did.

Gold Standard Feminism

I often listen to National Public Radio while driving to and from work. NPR’s late afternoon/early evening news program is called “All Things Considered”, and on Wednesday evening, ATC aired a remembrance of feminist theologian Mary Daly.

I must live a sheltered life, because I had never heard of Ms. Daly. The ATC profile, however, had me laughing out loud at points. For example, we are asked to believe that the Catholic Church feared Daly because she was a radical lesbian feminist. According to Ms. Daly, the Trinity was derived from triple goddesses in ancient culture. The patriarchy stole all of women’s creativity, creative energies, and religion.

The fact that she was a member of the faculty in the theology department of a major Catholic University (Boston College) for more than thirty years, speaks rather negatively of our Catholic universities. Could it be that, rather than fearing her, the Church thought it best to either ignore her kook theories or actually present the authentic deposit of faith, which was at odds with what she was selling?

Professor Lawrence Cunningham of the University of Notre Dame noted that Daly could be described as the “gold standard for absolute feminism.” In other words, if Daly was a 10 on the feminism spectrum, then every other feminist would be something less than a 10, therefore allowing them to describe their views as “moderate.”

I really want to believe that most people would hear her theories and find them to be nonsense. The fact that many people apparently took them seriously makes me wonder whether our society is in need of a reboot.

Rhetorical Excess

Rhetoric can be a dangerous thing, especially when it resorts to hyperbole and exaggeration without making it clear that the author knows that he’s exaggerating. When any left-wing ideologue referred to President Bush as the second-coming of Adolph Hitler, it did nothing to strengthen their criticism of his policies. If anything, it revealed that the person employing the comparison didn’t really appreciate just how evil Hitler was. When this tactic was used too often, it diminished the stature not of Bush, but of Hitler. After all, if Bush was just like Hitler, then Hitler couldn’t have been too bad. It’s a false, ridiculous, and repulsive line of argument.

It’s unfortunate that the tactic is resorted to by both enemies and friends.

There is an article today at Catholic Exchange by Colin Mason, the Director for Media Production at the Population Research Institute. In it, he argues that many groups are presenting themselves as Catholic while promoting an agenda that is at odds with what the Catholic Church teaches. He specifically cites Catholics for Choice, Catholics United, and Catholics for Health Care Reform. I whole-heartedly agree with most of what he has written. Where he loses me is when he brings up the reaction of press and of the executive director of Catholics United to criticism by Deal Hudson.

For pointing out the obvious, Hudson was summarily crucified in the press and by Catholics United. Chris Korzen, executive director of Catholics United, shot back that “abortion is legal in the United States, and there’s not much either Catholics United or Deal Hudson can do to change that.” He promptly went on to demolish his own Catholic credibility by insisting that his organization was neither “pro-abortion rights or anti-abortion rights,” but “pro-common ground.”

Deal Hudson was criticized. You could stretch things a little and say that he was attacked. He certainly was not “summarily crucified.” To say as much belittles the reality of crucifixion.

Hudson has a scandalous past. He has rehabilitated himself admirably, and I trust that he has repented. He can defend himself, presumably without suggesting that any criticism of him is comparable to executing God.

Complications and Happiness

The feeling comes upon me every now and then: the desire to pull up stakes and relocate the family.

Some enterprising pollster recently decided to measure people’s happiness and catalog it according to geographic location. Ohio, it turns out, is way down on the list of states, ranked according to happiness. We are 44th out of 51. The District of Columbia, so it appears, is now a state. I can’t help but wonder why Puerto Rico and Guam were left off the list. Any relocation that we might make based on the happiness ranking, however, would have to be fairly far. None of the states bordering Ohio ranks any higher than 34th, and both Indiana and Michigan fare even worse than we do. The closest state to rank in the top ten is Tennessee at 4th. Ah, Tennessee, with its rolling hills and its country music! I could learn to like Tennessee.

It’s never going to happen, though. Especially now.

We’re in the middle of a construction project on our 80 year-old house, and we’re taking on a bunch (for us) of new debt in the process. We now “own” the house even more than we did before. We’re not going anywhere. The accumulated complications of life aren’t going to offer us an easy way out, not that I ever really expected that they would.

The temptation to look around and see greener grass anywhere other than in your own yard is a powerful one. It also usually turns out to be an illusion.

I used to scoff at people who warned me that my teen-aged kids would drive me batty. “Not mine,” I would insist. “I’m raising mine right.” I don’t scoff anymore. Instead, I wonder that God has entrusted such a responsibility to me, and I hope and pray that I don’t screw it up too much. I know that all too soon, they’ll be moved out, accumulating their own complications. I only hope (selfishly, I know) that they don’t move far.

Shepherdless, Hungry Sheep

In the liturgical calendar, Christmas continues for another week. We don’t begin Ordinary Time until after the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord this coming Sunday. In this Christmas Tuesday following Epiphany, the Church has selected as the gospel reading for the mass Mark 6:34-44, which recounts one of the instances in which Jesus multiplied the loaves. Where does this passage fit into the Christmas season?

As I read Mark’s account, two observations come to mind. First, the convergence of signs and symbols that I noted in my post, Something About Christmas, continues. Second, the numbers are significant.

“When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd.” (Mk 6:34) God’s people were like sheep, so He sent to them the Lamb of God. They were without a shepherd, so He sent to them the Good Shepherd. “You give them something to eat.” (Mk 6:37) Jesus was born in Bethlehem, which means “house of bread” and was laid in a feed box. God gave the Israelites manna in the desert, but Jesus identified himself as the “true bread from heaven” and the “bread of life.” “He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty.” (Jn 6:35) The Eucharist is woven throughout the gospels, from the Christmas narrative, through the miracles of Christ, to the Last Supper and the passion, death, and resurrection. It is truly the source and summit of our lives.

The numbers (five thousand fed with twelve baskets left over) are significant. Don’t take my word for it, though. Two chapters later, in Mark 8, Jesus feeds four thousand with seven loaves and seven baskets left over. When the apostles then misunderstand His words about the leaven of the Pharisees, thinking that He’s talking about physical bread, He seems to become a little exasperated. “’Do you still not see or understand? Are you hearts hardened? Do you have eyes but fail to see; and ears but fail to hear? And don’t you remember? When I broke the five loaves for the five thousand, how many baskets did you pick up?’ ‘Twelve,’ they replied. ‘And when I broke the seven loaves for the four thousand, how many basketfuls of pieces did you pick up?’ They answered, ‘Seven.’ He said to them, ‘Do you still no understand?’” (Mk 8:17-21)

We can only guess at what the numbers mean, since scripture isn’t explicit, and our culture doesn’t place as much symbolic meaning in numbers as Hebrew culture did. One interpretation, which I believe comes from Dr. Scott Hahn, is that the fives and twelve refer to the Pentateuch (the first five books of the Bible) and the twelve tribes of Israel, whereas the four and sevens refer to the four cardinal directions and completion or perfection, such that the two miracles of the loaves represent the extension of God’s covenant to all people, and not just to the Israelites.

Whatever the numbers might mean, Jesus seemed to think it was important that the Apostles understand the significance. We can only trust that the point He was making has been transmitted to us by the successors to the Apostles, such that we get the teaching, even though it isn’t explicitly explained in this passage of scripture.

Happy Anniversary

My wife created this wonderful video last year, on the occasion of our 16th Anniversary. Today we celebrate our 17th.

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Bicycle Race

A few weeks ago, in the runup to the global climate summit in Copenhagen, NPR aired a story on cargo bicycles and the alternatives that they present for “green” transportation. These are pedal-powered bikes with a front bucket capable of transporting anything from beer kegs or groceries to school children too young to ride bikes of their own.

My first thought was that the practice of loading small kids into a basket on the front end of a bicycle and pushing them through traffic is never going to survive first contact with trial lawyers. The tykes will have to be properly restrained in a tested and certified roll cage and wearing approved safety devices – at which point it will be fabulously expensive and nearly impossible to move.

My second thought was climate-inspired. This was a December morning in Ohio, with about an inch of newly fallen snow on the ground. That makes the whole concept a hard sell. The last time that I rode my bicycle to work, I got caught in an afternoon rainstorm on my way home. I haven’t ridden my bike to work again since. It would take some pretty hefty incentives to get me to opt for a bicycle in sub-freezing temperatures or in any type of precipitation.

Something About Christmas

I would be negligent if I didn’t write something about Christmas. The fact is that every year, the holiday overwhelms me. Between the parties, the gifts, the atmosphere, the shopping (both before and after the big day!), the food, the drink, the house full of kids home from school, and everything else that I’ve forgotten to mention, I’m just not inclined to write much of anything.

And yet I have to write something.

Someday, I hope to be able to immerse myself in the spirituality of that Holy Night. When, in the fullness of time, God took upon himself a human nature and made his dwelling among fallen humanity, he did so in the most modest of ways. He was born into the barest of amenities, in a stable, to the wife of a carpenter. Mary and Joseph were not rich, and the census called by Caesar had required them to leave their home and travel to Bethlehem, the city of David, of whose line Joseph was descended.

The Son of God, Jesus, the “true bread from heaven” was born to descendents of David in a town whose name means “house of bread.”

The birth was not without its glory. Indeed, the event was announced by angel choirs, but not to the priests or to the sages of Jerusalem. Rather, the angels appeared to humble shepherds, tending their flocks. And so, the shepherds came to the stable to adore the new born Lamb of God. The found the Lamb, the Bread, the Son, the King, lying in a manger – a feeding trough.

The signs and symbols stagger the imagination. To think that God should come to earth in such a way!

The only gift that really matters at Christmas is the gift that God gave us 2000 years ago by becoming one of us. The circumstances of His birth demonstrate to us that the comforts of life are unnecessary luxuries. It should make us feel foolish for pouting if we didn’t find the gift that we wanted to find under the Christmas tree.

Meanwhile, the mad rush of “the season” continues. All the cheery carols flee from the radio and lopped-off trees stripped naked of ornamentation start to appear at curbside. Retailers try to squeeze the last few holiday pennies from shoppers’ purses while the media turn their attention to recapping the newsworthy stories of the last year and the last decade. The important things rarely make the top-ten lists.

There is so much more that deserves to be written, not just about Christmas, but also about the feasts that follow: St. Stephen, St. John, the Holy Innocents, the Holy Family, the Mother of God, and Epiphany. For me, however, the kids are still home from school, and once I get home from work, it’s family game time. All of the family members that we feasted with last week will gather again to ring in the New Year. I’ll be there in the middle of it, basking in the warm glow of good will, rushing to defuse ill will when siblings start to squabble, and above it all, trying to keep it all in the perspective of the greatest gift of all.

Merry Christmas, and may God bless the New Year!

The Types of John

Mark Twain famously noted (or so I am told) that history doesn’t repeat itself, but it does rhyme. The same can be said of the events recorded in Sacred Scripture. The Catechism of the Catholic Church states, “The Church, as early as apostolic times, and then constantly in her Tradition, has illuminated the unity of the divine plan in the two Testaments through typology, which discerns in God’s works of the Old Covenant prefigurations of what he accomplished in the fullness of time in the person of his incarnate Son.”

Sometimes, the writers of the New Testament books explicitly link figures to their Old Testament types. In the case of John the Baptist, Jesus says that “he is Elijah who is to come” in Matther 11:14.

The Church also makes clear in the selection of Advent readings for December 19 that it considers Samson a type for John. It might be more accurate to say that the wife a Manoah is a type for Elizabeth. Both were barren, until God decided to bless each of them with a son. In both cases, the son of the blessing was set aside by God for a special purpose. The similarity between Samson and John is limited, however. By Christian standards, Samson is hardly a model of righteousness. Reading Judges 14-16 is downright scandalous by today’s standards, with Samson smiting Philistines hip and thigh with the jawbone of an ass and visiting prostitutes.

A stronger type for John might be found in the prophet Samuel. His mother, Hannah, was barren until the Lord heard her prayers. “The Lord remembered her; and in due time Hannah conceived and bore a son, and she called his name Samuel, for she said, ‘I have asked him of the Lord.’” (1 Samuel 1:19-20) As soon as the child was weaned, he was taken to Shiloh to minister to the Lord, in the presence of Eli the priest. Samuel would go on to receive the prophetic call and then to anoint David, the youngest son of Jesse, to be king after Saul is unfaithful. Similarly, John will baptize Jesus, whose legal father, Joseph, was of the house of David.

Ya gotta love the ways in which Scripture rhymes!

Agressive Mistresses and Unfaithful Husbands

Every now and then, I read an article or column that brings me to the brink of despair. I don’t know why it should produce such a reaction, but Maggie Gallagher’s take on the whole sordid Tiger Woods scandal is one such column. Marriage is important, as an institution, because it provides the vital center of the fundamental building block of society, the nuclear family. That foundation is under attack on multiple fronts. The latest front appears to be the aggressive mistress.

The unfaithful husband is breaking vows. The mistress, however, who knows that he is married and cooperates in his unfaithfulness is no victim, and she is deluding herself if she thinks the cheat of a man is going to be true to her.

John's Doubt

Did John doubt? One school of thought is that John the Baptist was struggling with doubts, and so he sent some of his disciples to ask Jesus if he was the One. Sr. Ann Shields of Renewal Ministries, in her Food for the Journey broadcast for December 16, encourages us to confront our doubts and seek out the answers. The disciples, Sr. Ann suggests, returned to the Baptist with the report that the blind see, the lame walk, lepers are cured, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor. John then made a conscious decision to believe. Some of the sentiments expressed by Sr. Ann can be seen in the collection of Mother Teresa of Calcutta’s personal letters, Come Be My Light.

The other school of thought is that John did not doubt, but his disciples did, and in sending his disciples to Jesus, John was addressing their doubts, not his own. That’s the view adopted by Fr. Mary Mark in his EWTN homily this morning.

The scripture itself is ambiguous on the point, and individual Catholics are free to favor either view.

Denial

I have been accused of being a denier. No, not a denier of the Bishop Williamson variety – the holocaust of the Jews at the hands of the Nazis is a fact of history. What I have been accused of denying, if I understand my correspondent correctly, is climate change.

Just in case anybody reading this has been living in a cave for the last ten years, there is a wide-spread belief that humanity is bad for the planet. Human activity, so the theory goes, is causing the planet’s temperature to rise at an accelerating rate (the so-called hockey-stick curve). The main culprit, we are told, is carbon dioxide, which is produced in combustion reactions and animal respiration. Carbon dioxide is supposed to act as a greenhouse gas, allowing energy from sunlight to enter into the atmosphere to warm the planet, but trapping the heat so that less energy is radiated back out into space. Unless we do something, the polar ice caps are going to melt like Frosty the Snowman, and we’re all going to die horrible deaths.

To prevent this catastrophe, the alarmists say, we have to strictly control the generation of carbon dioxide. The “carbon footprint” of every person on the planet must be calculated and rationed. To advance the process, we must adhere to international protocols in which advanced western democracies accept upon themselves all of the responsibility for the sins of economic development and vow to do extreme penance.

For the record, I do not deny the possibility that the global mean temperature could be inching upward. Nor do I deny that man has an impact on the environment. What I do deny is the idea that punitive carbon dioxide restrictions are going to have any measurable effect, other than the utter destruction of western economies. Destroying the U.S. economy is not going to improve the economy or the environment in Swaziland.

Add to all of this the recent disclosure of emails and computer code from one of the major climate research groups, to the effect that the “science” is rigged to generate data in support of a pre-determined conclusion, and the hysteria of the global warming alarmists starts to look a little ridiculous. Much of the original temperature data from weather stations around the world has been destroyed. The only data now available from those weather stations is data that has been “adjusted” in ways that nobody seems willing or able to divulge.

Some people seem to be under the mistaken impression that those, like me, who don’t see global warming as an existential threat must want instead to remove all emissions controls and pollute the atmosphere. That’s simply not true. I like to breathe clean air – I just don’t think that carbon dioxide is a pollutant. Other pollutants can and should be controlled. We are stewards of God’s creation, and we have a responsibility before Him to care for the planet.

That is a responsibility that I do not deny.

One of Many

Yes, it's regrettable that it only happens twice a year, but that doesn't make it any less glorious. I attended a reconciliation service Monday evening. What's particularly nice is that every Advent and Lent, approximately two weeks before Christmas or Easter, the communities of New Bremen, Minster, and Fort Loramie, each have a reconciliation service. The service is held on Monday in New Bremen, Tuesday in Minster, and Thursday in Fort Loramie. A smaller service is also held on Wednesday in Egypt. At each service, approximately six priests are available to hear individual confession of sins and give absolution. The lines are generally long.

It is a cause for joy to think of all the souls recognizing that their sins have damaged their relationships with God and seeking to be reconciled. It is glorious to think of all the sins being absolved. It is humbling and just a little bit comforting to know that I'm just one more in a long line of sinners to whom God offers his love and mercy.

[Clarification 12/18/09: What happens twice a year, once in Advent and once in Lent, is the penance service with multiple priests and long lines. Individual confession with shorter lines is available at various times and places throughout the week, and I try to make it every few weeks. Maybe I'm weaker than most, but twice a year isn't enough for me.]

Kingdom of Violence

Back in 2001, after the horror of the terrorist attacks on the morning of September 11, I sought solace by attending mass at a nearby parish. On that Tuesday evening, and in the days that followed, the priest prayed that we might be delivered from men of violence.

Last week, during the 2nd Week of Advent, the words of Matthew 11:12 stood out, and they continue to occupy my thoughts, begging for some interpretation that fits in with the entirety of God’s revelation.

My RSV translation gives the verse as “From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and men of violence take it by force.” A note in the text informs that some sources read, “has been coming violently” in lieu of “has suffered violence.” The two alternate texts have meanings that are almost completely out of phase with one another if parsed grammatically. I can sympathize with the translators, who had to try to decide which of two ancient Greek texts was more authentic – especially since Greek was not the language in which the words were spoken. The NAB translation used for the mass is similar: “the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent are taking it by force.” The NIV, however, translates it a little differently: “From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has been forcefully advancing, and forcefully men lay hold of it.” My NIV translation contains no mention of alternate texts, or of violence.

I am aware of two interpretations of the passage. One is that violence isn’t violence. That is to say that the verse refers to men who are willing to take extreme action in pursuit of sanctity. If there is violence to be done, it is to be self-inflicted. This interpretation sounds to me an awful lot like the jihad-as-internal struggle interpretation of the Koran. I will take it into consideration, but I’m not sure that I’m ready to buy it.

The second interpretation that I’ve heard is that of violence done to those who seek the kingdom. The prophets were put to death, and Jesus promises persecution to any who follow him. This interpretation tracks with the aphorism that the Church grows from the blood of the martyrs. This interpretation is also provided in the NAB note at the USCCB website, which states, “The meaning of this difficult saying is probably that the opponents of Jesus are trying to prevent people from accepting the kingdom and to snatch it away from those who have received it.”

Pope John Paul II referenced the verse in his 1979 encyclical Redemptor hominis. In section 11 of the letter, John Paul discusses the mystery of Christ as the basis of the Church’s mission and of Christianity. The Holy Father notes that “the mission seems to encounter greater opposition nowadays than ever before,” and salvation and grace are linked with the Cross in the mystery of the divine economy. “It was not without reason that Christ said that ‘the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and men of violence take it by force.’” He goes on to write, “We gladly accept this rebuke, that we may be like those ‘violent people of God’ that we have so often seen in the history of the Church and still see today, and that we may consciously join in the great mission of revealing Christ to the world. John Paul appears to start out with the second interpretation (violence to the kingdom), but then shifts to the first interpretation (violence for the kingdom).

If I really want to know what’s going on in this little snippet of scripture, there are a few things I can do. First, I have to keep in mind the context. John is in prison, and he has sent his disciples to Jesus to ask him if he is the messiah. After telling them (without actually telling them) that he is indeed the One, he sends them off, then addresses the crowd concerning John. The question that needs to be answered is whether John, the eccentric aesthetic in the desert, or Herod, the man responsible for imprisoning John, is practicing the violence to which Jesus is referring. Is it possible that Jesus is contrasting Herod in the first clause with John in the second?

A lot has been written about what Jesus means when he refers to the “kingdom of heaven” in the gospels. Pope Benedict XVI, in his book Jesus of Nazareth, argues for a Christocentric meaning: the kingdom of heaven refers to the incarnate person of Christ himself. That meaning might not fit in all places where the phrase is used. To be thorough, we would have to cross-reference every other use of the phrase in the gospel of Matthew.

It could come down to a matter of language and translation. The NAB and RSV translations both say that the kingdom suffers violence. An English-Greek concordance should provide the actual words used in the Greek for “suffer” and “violence”, along with any other places in scripture where those same word are used.

Finally, there should be some commentary available for just what Pope John Paul II means when he praised those violent people of God. I am fairly certain that he was not praising those who resort to physical violence in the name of religion.

Wisdom 13:5-9

by Timothy Murphy
Copyright (c) 2008 First Things (May 2008).

We worshipped moon and sun,
comets, the circling stars,
Venus and bloodstained Mars,
ignorant of our duty
owed to the unnamed one,
kindler of every beauty
and fire by which we find
the hand, the designing mind
of heaven’s artisan

The Kingdom Of Heaven Is At Hand

Rejoice! For the Kingdom of God is at hand!

What’s that? You mean that’s not what John the Baptist proclaimed? No, John came preaching a baptism of repentance. The Gospel of Matthew has him proclaiming, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (Mt 3:2).

Every year, on the Second Sunday of Advent, we hear about John the Baptist, and we can’t point to others in the crowd and say to ourselves, “He’s talking about them.” We are all called to repentance. We are all called to make straight the path of God by filling in the valleys of despair with hope and bringing low the mountains of pride with humility.

Advent might not be a season of penance, but it is certainly a season of repentance. It is a season not of atonement for sins, but of re-orienting ourselves in preparation for His glorious return. Contrition has its part to play, as we empty ourselves of our selves. Many parishes will celebrate communal penance services, in which the emphasis should probably be place on reconciliation between God and the penitent.

God came to us over 2000 years ago, and we celebrate His birth on Chistmas. He will come again, though we know not when. Let us use this time to prepare, that His path to our hearts might be straight and smooth.

The Deaf Shall Read

There is a line in today's mass reading from the book of the prophet Isaiah: "On that day, the deaf shall hear the words of a book." It made me think of a Cochlear Implant recipient using the read text feature of his Kindle to listen to the latest best seller.

The prophecy has been fulfilled!

Advent and Health Care

In my quest to enter more deeply into the spirit of Advent, I was delighted to read (via CNA) that the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops "has created an Advent and Christmas website with suggestions for daily prayers, readings, reflection and action. A collection of Lessons and Carols is also provided for live listening or download."

I've visited the site a couple of times this week, but was disappointed with today's offering. The reflection was from an address by Pope Benedict XVI to the Jesuits on the subject of St. Francis Xavier. The prayer and action items had to do with the uninsured and health care reform.

I'm visited the site for Advent-specific content. I don't think that I got it today. I hate to think that somebody at the Conference is running a bait-and-switch.

Grasping at Advent

So often, I hear people say that the Church’s liturgical calendar ends with the Solemnity of Christ the King, as if the year ends with a bang. Not so. There’s a whole week of Ordinary Time left after Christ the King. New Year’s Eve, as it were, occurs on Saturday of the 34th Week of Ordinary Time.

The First Sunday of Advent kicks off not the Christmas season, but the Advent Season. Our culture, however, has swallowed up Advent. Christmas begins as soon as Thanksgiving is over and ends as soon as we return to work. Radio stations that go to an all-Christmas format for the shopping season return to playing light rock on December 26.

First Things has re-printed (re-posted? What is the proper thing to say in the digital age for something that was originally produced in print and is re-produced in pixels?) an essay by editor Joseph Bottum entitled, The End of Advent:

“Christmas has devoured Advent, gobbled it up with the turkey giblets and the goblets of seasonal ale. Every secularized holiday, of course, tends to lose the context it had in the liturgical year. Across the nation, even in many churches, Easter has hopped across Lent, Halloween has frightened away All Saints, and New Year’s has drunk up Epiphany.”

I disagree. Lent kicks off in a big way on Ash Wednesday. Not only do we go to mass and receive ashes (in the middle of the week, no less!), we fast and abstain from meat. We give things up. For six weeks we look ahead with anticipation not to Easter, which we know is coming, but to the Good Friday that preceeds it. Having reached and passed through Good Friday, we burst into Easter with full joy. Lent is penance and anticipation of the Passion; Easter is joyful celebration that death has been conquered. The seasons are distinctly different, and rightly so.

Advent has been swallowed up by Christmas. It requires a conscious, counter-cultural effort to make the season into what it is supposed to be. Bottum, in his essay, notes, “What Advent is, really, is a discipline: a way of forming anticipation and channeling it towards its goal.” Some well-intentioned souls want to turn Advent into another Lent, but I don’t think that the seasons share the same character. There is no analogy to Good Friday and the remembrance of the Crucifixion at the end of Advent. Christmas is the great celebration at the end of Advent, but immediately after celebrating the birth of our Savior, we remember the first Christian martyr, St. Stephen, and the slaughter of the innocents at the jealous hand of Herod.

Advent is harder to embrace – harder to keep separate from Christmas. We shouldn’t try too hard to keep it separate, lest we become scrooges to the Christmas frivolity that surrounds us. Yet, at the same time, we should not forget that Advent is all about waiting in joyful hope for the coming of our Lord.

Professional Priests

Earlier this week, I read a Russell Shaw column prompted by the remarks of Cardinal Claudio Hummes, the head of the Vatican’s Congregation for the Clergy. The Cardinal spoke to a gathering of priests at the shrine of Fatima in Portugal and cautioned them against turning their ministries into “a kind of ecclesiastical profession.” Shaw then takes both sides, defending the idea that the priesthood is more than just a job, but at the same time defending it as a profession.

My biggest objection to the remark as reported concerns the slighting use of the expression “ecclesiastical profession.” What I suspect the cardinal meant – and what’s true enough – is that the priesthood isn’t just one more job alongside others. In making this perfectly reasonable point, however, it’s a mistake to say or imply that there’s something intrinsically wrong with, or at least inferior about, professions and jobs in general.

He then goes on to point out he need for priests to execute their duties and live out their vocation in a professional manner.

It should come as no surprise that my thinking on the matter of vocations is focused by the lens of my own vocation as husband and father. When the priest is ordained, he undergoes an ontological change. He takes the Church as his bride in the way that I took my wife as my bride. From the beginning, God has revealed that in marriage, the man and the woman become one. The husband, the wife, and their offspring become a living icon of the Trinity. The priest, in taking the Church as his bride, becomes a living icon of Christ.

The idea that I would approach my vocation as a husband and father in the same way that I would approach a profession seems a little inappropriate. Professionalism just doesn’t embody the kind of outpouring of self that is required. I can and should be professional in my job, and in fact, the State of Ohio has given me permission to call myself a Professional Engineer. But the idea that I could get a certificate proclaiming me to be a Professional Husband is a little creepy.

Every priest has a job, whether it’s pastor, professor, or vocations director. They should execute the duties of their job professionally. But the exercise of their priesthood demands something more. Professionalism just doesn’t cut it, for priests or for husbands and dads.

Advent Carol

From the December 2009 issue of First Things.
By Julie Stoner

Hush that anguished hymn you're humming:
"Come, O Come, Emmanuel."
Trumpet Christmas! Fix his coming
firmly at "The First Nowell."

He's already come in glory!
Why plead, "Savior, come at last"?
Let's talk Christmas! Tell a story
safely in the distant past.

Drown out John the Baptist. Edit
out "Prepare! Make straight the way!"
Cut to Christmas! But on credit.
Square things up another day.

Advent's dreary. Let's start living.
Christmas now! Wear red and green!
While we're at it, skip Thanksgiving!
Deck the halls at Halloween!

Then, when the Incarnate Verb
overnight becomes passé
carry Christmas to the curb.
Pack the Prince of Peace away.