As we go through the Book of the Prophet Isaiah at Mass this week, we read of Israel’s painful purifications as well as the subsequent punishment of the surrounding nations.
God permitted the nations to persecute Israel in order that she be purified, but the iniquity and sin of the nations and of this world cannot go on forever; wickedness must be ended. The Lord did not just purify Israel, He will also judge the nations.
In a complex passage, God says (through Isaiah) that although He had used Assyria as a tool to purify Israel, Assyria would not escape punishment for her iniquity. Here is an excerpt:
Woe to Assyria! My rod in anger, my staff in wrath. Against an impious nation [Israel] I send him, and against a people under my wrath I order him to seize plunder, carry off loot …. But this is not what he intends, nor does he have this in mind; Rather, it is in his heart to destroy …. [And] he says: “By my own power I have done it, and by my wisdom, for I am shrewd. I have moved the boundaries of peoples ….” Will the axe boast against him who hews with it? Will the saw exalt itself above him who wields it? As if a rod could sway him who lifts it …. Therefore, the Lord, the LORD of hosts, will send among his fat ones leanness, and instead of his glory there will be kindling like the kindling of fire (Isaiah 10:5-16).
Although God wielded Assyria like an axe to prune Israel, that did not make the axe good. The axe must be refined as in fire.
What do stories like these have to say to us today? Quite a bit, especially if we interpret Israel as an image for the Church and the nations around us today as akin to Assyria and Babylon.
The Church has been going through a great pruning and purification in the past fifty years. The once luxuriant vine of Catholicism and Christendom in the West has been reduced. Only about a quarter of Catholics in the U.S. attend Mass; in Europe the numbers are far worse. Indifference to the faith and to God is widespread. Many are Catholic in name only.
Yet for those who remain there is an increasingly fervent experience of the faith. On account of doubt and persecution, many of us are clearer about what we believe and why than we were in the past. There has been a great blossoming of Catholic media and Catholic apologetics. The Catholics who remain are more devout and more creative. In this we see a pruning and purification that is so often necessary in the Church. Ecclesia semper reformanda (the Church is always in need of reform).
This purification is being effected by God, who is permitting an increasingly secular and hostile world to afflict the Church. This can take many forms: indifference to religious teaching; scoffing at religious beliefs; promulgation of error and lies in order to lead people away from the faith; marginalizing the role of faith-based organizations in charity, adoption, and foster care; excoriating and even criminalizing religious beliefs; and even outright martyring of believers. A few recent court cases that sought to criminalize religious views have gone well for believers, but the legal actions grow ever more numerous.
For the time being, God seems to be permitting the “Assyria” of modern, decadent culture to afflict us. Things do by opposition grow, however. Even if God is wielding the axe of modernity now, this does not make the axe holy; soon enough the axe will have to answer for its wickedness.
What are faithful Catholics to do under the current circumstances? The answer to this may vary based upon our state/stage in life (e.g., parent, priest, married, single, young, old). Many younger families are choosing to “hunker down” and live as isolated from our toxic culture as possible by homeschooling, restricting television viewing, and/or limiting Internet access. Others have chosen to engage the culture boldly in order to seek its conversion and to rescue as many as possible from its grip.
Another text from Isaiah seems appropriate for an increasing number of Catholics, especially those with children:
Come, my people, enter your chambers, and shut your doors behind you; hide yourselves for a little while until the wrath has passed by. For behold, the LORD is coming out from his place to punish the inhabitants of the earth for their iniquity, and the earth will disclose the blood shed on it and will no more cover its slain (Is 26:21-22).
In effect, this text advises the faithful to preserve the faith by seeking to live as far apart from the prevailing culture as possible. Israel’s purification was bearing fruit and God was preparing to punish the nations that afflicted His faithful there.
As in the days of Noah, some choose to hunker down and preserve the faith from the flood of rebellion.
This of course is not the usual stance of the Church, which ordinarily is to be zealously evangelical, but even the first evangelists were told by Jesus that in the face of fierce opposition to the gospel they were to flee: When you are persecuted in one place, flee to another (Matt 10:24). There are times to hole up in the enclosure of the ark in order to preserve the life and light of the gospel and then emerge again when the storms of destruction have passed by.
What does all of this mean to you? You must decide how to respond. Some may be called to isolate their families in order to preserve them from the caustic culture. Others may be called to engage with this world and seek to save as many as possible. Increasingly, the Church is simply not going to be able to make the compromises that the world demands of her.
Isaiah’s prophecies are not merely locked in the past; they are operative now as well.
In the video below, Bishop Robert Barron does a wonderful job of giving hope in the midst of affliction. Describing the stance of hunkering down, he reminds us that for those who do so it is a stance that is less one of hiding than of preserving the faith so that it can be set loose later with its purity intact.
Many years ago, I saw the movie True Confessions (1981), which was about an ambitious priest who discovered the truer meaning of the priesthood. Although the film was seedy in places, the outcome for the main character, Monsignor Spellacy, was salutary.
Robert DeNiro (who was more discreet and refined in those days) starred as Msgr. Spellacy. It was well acted, but it was the liturgical scenes that were especially noteworthy: they were beautiful, meticulous, and accurate. The movie was set in the 1940s and so the older Latin Mass was depicted in all its solemn, high glory (see the movie clip at the end of the post).
The church itself was gorgeous as well. Over the years I could never identify the church, despite asking many people. No one seemed to know. The movie credits made no mention of the parish where the Mass scenes were filmed. Even people I knew from the Los Angeles area (where the move was filmed) did not recognize the church. This was well before the Internet was in common use, so there was not the ability to pose a question far and wide. Until a few months ago, there just seemed to be no information available.
Mystery Solved – I finally stumbled upon the answer, completely by accident, about a month ago when I read about a fire that had destroyed St. Joseph Church in downtown Los Angeles in 1983.
The article mentioned that St. Joseph had been seen in several TV shows and movies, including True Confessions. The cause was said to have been an electrical fire. The roof collapsed, and only the towers and some of the brick walls remained. What a loss! A smaller, modern church was subsequently built on the site to replace the older one.
The exterior of the old St. Joseph Church is seen above. It was a truly magnificent German Gothic structure. Its interior is seen in the photo on the left, from 1960.
The following description of its beautiful interior was made upon its opening in 1903:
In the vast interiors of the great church … one may discover a wondrous work of gilt, and the deep tones of reds, greens, blues and yellows assembled with an artist’s touch into a magnificent whole.
This extensive fresco work [is] said to be the finest on the Coast. … For almost three months these men have toiled on the extensive work at St. Joseph’s sometimes far into the night…. … [I]t is said there will be no finer church edifice on the Pacific Coast. The whole building is to cost $100,000, and aside from this the furnishings make no small item.
Seven beautiful altars will be placed in the new building. These have been made in Munich. They are of white walnut and finished in white and gold. The main altar, of pure Gothic design, is forty-seven feet high, and the side altars are thirty and twenty-eight feet high.
The communion rail is also to be of polished walnut, with marble top; and the pews will be of white oak.
Most of the large windows are memorials, and they are to be of the richest colors in cathedral glass. These alone will cost about $6000. The Stations of the Cross are in bas-relief and set in alcoves in the walls. These are also products of Munich artists.
The main body of the church is 150 x 66 feet, and the transept is ninety-six feet wide. Back of this are the sacristy and rooms for altar boys, etc. The building has a large basement, fitted up for a hall, Sunday-school rooms, etc. Attached to the church on the east is the house of the Franciscan Fathers, which they now occupy.
All of this succumbed to the fire of Sunday morning, September 4, 1983; it was indeed a tragic loss. The current structure, though not ugly, is unremarkable. I have included additional pictures of the old and new churches here: The Church Where True Confessions Was Filmed.
I have written before about the sad fate of St. Vibiana, the former cathedral Church of Los Angeles (My Father’s House Has Become a Marketplace). I do not suppose that we can save all our beautiful structures, especially given the decline in the practice of the faith among Catholics, and although the damage to souls from this decline is far worse, the loss of these beautiful works that faith once produced is still lamentable. Accidents such as fire will cause losses as well, but they are still losses.
Below is some footage from the movie True Confessions, showing St. Joseph Church less than two years before its total destruction by fire.
Some years ago, Fr. Patrick Smith, a friend of mine and a priest of this archdiocese, preached a sermon in which he asked if the Church was a clubhouse or a lighthouse.
It seems that many people want the Church just to be a friendly place where people can gather. Many of these same people get angry when the Church shines the light of truth on something. They declare that the Church should just be open and inviting. They object when She is challenging or points to the demands of the gospel.
The Church must be more than just a clubhouse; otherwise, She is no different than a bowling league or the Moose Lodge. She is most certainly meant to be a lighthouse, warning of danger and giving light to those in darkness, but She also must risk that some who are accustomed to the darkness will complain of the Light of Christ She reflects.
It was indeed a fine sermon, and its message is essential and profound. I was mindful of that sermon when I ran across the video below from Ignitermedia.com, which asks if the Church is a cruise ship or a battleship.
Many people surely think of the Church as a cruise ship, existing to provide pleasure and entertainment. “Peel me a grape!” seems to be the attitude that some bring to Church. The video does a good job making its point by listing the questions often asked when evaluating a luxury cruise ship:
Do I like the music they play in the ballroom?
Do I like the captain and his crew?
Is the service good?
Am I well fed?
Are my needs met promptly?
Is the cruise pleasant?
Am I comfortable?
Do I want to cruise with them again?
Our parishes ought to work very hard to ensure that the faithful are effectively served and are helped to find God. Good sermons, reverent liturgy, good music, a beautiful church building, and dedicated clergy and lay staff are all important. God deserves the very best and so do His people.
However, it the world does not exist merely to please us. No parish we attend will ever be exactly the way we want it. No priest preaches perfectly every Sunday. The choir does not always sing our favorites.
Some people stay away from Church, calling it boring or saying they aren’t being “fed.” But in the end it’s not about you! We go to Mass to worship God because He is worthy, because He deserves our praise, and because He has commanded us to do so. God has something important to say to us whether we want to hear it or not. He directs us to eat His flesh and drink His blood, whether we like it or not. We must eat or else we will die. Holy Mass is about God and what He is saying and doing.
The video goes on to suggest that a better image for the Church is a battleship. I was less impressed with the way they compared the Church and a battleship, so I have added my some of my own questions as well:
Is the ship on a clear and noble mission?
Is the ship able to endure storms at sea?
Does the captain submit to a higher authority?
Are the tactics and moves of the enemy well understood by the crew?
Does the crew have proper training and experience?
Are the crew members equipped to succeed?
Does the crew cooperate with the captain and other leaders?
Are they taught to be disciplined and vigilant?
Are they at their posts?
Do they take the battle seriously?
Does the ship have adequate first aid and medical help?
Is the crew properly able to distinguish lesser threats from greater ones?
Some dislike any military imagery in reference to the faith. One person angrily told me that the Church is not a battleship; She is a fishing vessel. Perhaps, but one image does not preclude another. Pugna spiritalis (spiritual battle) is simply a fact. We are besieged by the world, the flesh, and the devil. We are called to engage the battle and by God’s grace win through to victory. Our weapons are the Word of God, the teachings of the Church, the Sacraments, and prayer. We cannot win on our own but must work together under the authority of the Church, which is herself under God’s care and authority. We are rooted in the wisdom of tradition and guided by it. A certain pontiff emeritus suggested that the Church is taking on water lately but will not go under because the Lord is sleeping in the back quarters.
The Barque of St. Peter has endured many storms yet has never sunk. She is a sure a steady ship on a clear and noble mission. She is a well-armed battleship, armed with grace and truth.
As this Easter Season is nearing a close, we do well to ponder the picture of the early Church described in the Acts of the Apostles. The kind of persecution and suffering they endured in those days should serve to remind us of the sacrifices we are often unwilling to make.
Yet these early descriptions are also an affirmation of what we in effect (at least structurally) are. In these descriptions we see the ministry of St. Peter, of the first apostles: bishops, priests, deacons, and the lay faithful. We see sacraments being celebrated and the basic structure of the liturgy set forth. In these passages our Catholic faith is strongly affirmed. We see the Church in seminal form, already with her basic form and structures in place, all of which are recognizable to us.
Perhaps, though, we should examine the more challenging part of these descriptions, beyond the structure to the sacrifice. In Acts 5, there is a challenging portrait for the Church. This brief passage goes deeper than structures. It points toward the fundamental mission of the Church, a mission in which she courageously proclaims the truth, summons new followers to Christ, brings hope and healing, and drives out demons.
This is where all the structure “meets the road” and bears fruit for the kingdom of God. Thus, in this brief passage are many challenges for us as a Church. With all our structure and all our organization, do we accomplish these basic works of God? That is the challenge of such a reading.
Many signs and wonders were done among the people at the hands of the apostles. They were all together in Solomon’s portico. None of the others dared to join them, but the people esteemed them. Yet more than ever, believers in the Lord, great numbers of men and women, were added to them. Thus they even carried the sick out into the streets and laid them on cots and mats so that when Peter came by, at least his shadow might fall on one or another of them. A large number of people from the towns in the vicinity of Jerusalem also gathered, bringing the sick and those disturbed by unclean spirits, and they were all cured. (Acts 5:12-16)
Let’s examine this passage in four stages:
I. Courageous clergy – The text says, They were all together in Solomon’s portico. None of the others dared to join them, but the people esteemed them.
Note something remarkable: clergy—in this case the first bishops, the apostles—are out and about among the people of God! They are making a bold and public proclamation of Jesus Christ. They are not just speaking among friends or whispering quietly at closed Church gatherings. They are out in the Temple, the very stronghold of some of their most formidable opponents, risking arrest, detainment, and even their lives to announce Jesus Christ.
These are courageous clergy! They will not deny the truth; they will not compromise. Their own safety is secondary to them. They want only to announce Jesus Christ and Him crucified, to announce that He is Lord and Savior and that all must come to faith in Him in order to be saved.
Soon these apostles will be arrested for their bold proclamations (Acts 5:17ff). Yet despite this they will praise God that they were deemed worthy to suffer for the sake of the name (Acts 5:41). They will also experience rescue by God and see that no weapon waged against them will prevail.
The text says, “they were altogether in Solomon’s portico,” but the Greek word used is far more descriptive and specific than simply implying that they were all physically together in one place. The Greek word is ὁμοθυμαδόν (homothumadon) and means “to have the same passion, to be of one accord, to have the same desire.” It comes from homou, meaning “same,” and thumos, meaning “passion or desire.” In other words, these apostles were of one accord, one desire, one mind. They agreed on priorities and were focused on the one desire, on the one thing necessary.
Divided, we present an uncertain trumpet; and who will follow an uncertain trumpet? Oh, that we would see the kind of unity described here, wherein the apostles were in such agreement with one another. They preached coherently and with unity, Jesus Christ, crucified yet raised from the dead.
In these opening lines, we see clergy who are courageous, out among both the faithful and their enemies, boldly preaching, and unified in the essentials. This is a vision for the Church that is challenging and too often lacking today.
Pray for greater unity rooted in doctrinal truth and for clergy who are willing to preach the gospel in season and out of season (2 Tim 4:2).
II. Engaged in Evangelizing – The text goes on to say, Yet, more than ever, great numbers of men and women, believers in the Lord, were added to them.
The essential work of the Church—job one, if you will—is the Great Commission: Go therefore unto all the nations, teach them all that I commanded you, and baptize them, in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit (Matthew 28:19). Here in Acts we see a Church focused on this essential mission: adding great numbers to those who know and love the Lord Jesus and are called according to His purpose.
Oh, that every pastor and every parish would understand that they have an obligation to bring every man, woman, and child within their parish boundaries to know the Lord Jesus and to worship Him in spirit and in truth. Too many parishes have an “enclave mentality” rather than an evangelical one.
The evangelization plan of most parishes amounts to little more than opening the doors and hoping people come. This is not enough. It is not sufficient to relegate evangelization to some small committee. Evangelization is the constant work of the clergy and all the people of God together. Every parish must be summoning every person within its boundaries to know Jesus, to love Him, to worship Him, to obey him, and to experience His healing power in Word, Sacrament, and in the Sacred Liturgy.
Too many of our parishes are merely buildings in a neighborhood, fortresses of rock, expanses of parking lot. Meanwhile, thousands within their boundaries either know nothing of Jesus or what they know is erroneous. Are the clergy and people out engaging their neighbors and being the presence to them? Or are they simply ensconced in the rectory or in the parish hall, having parish council meetings and debates about which group should sponsor this year’s spaghetti dinner?
Fellowship is fine, but evangelization must be first and foremost. Too often in our parishes we maximize the minimum and minimize the maximum. We are too inwardly focused to be outwardly focused. Many souls are lost because we are not engaging in the primary work of evangelization.
If America has become a darkened culture—and it has—it happened on our watch. You can blame this on various factors, but we are the primary reason. We can’t just blame bishops or pastors. All of us allowed this to happen.
The early Church was engaged in “job one”: calling people to Jesus. What about your parish? What will you do to get the parish more focused on evangelization? Don’t just complain about your pastor; what will you do?
III. Hope and healing – The text says, Thus, they even carried the sick out into the streets and laid them on cots and mats, so that when Peter came by, at least his shadow might fall on one or another of them.
Here is described the essential work of the Church, which is to bring hope and healing to the multitudes. We must stand four-square against many things in our culture today: abortion, fornication, promiscuity, homosexual acts, same-sex unions, and embryonic stem cell research. We cannot, however, allow ourselves to be defined simply by what we are against. We must effectively proclaim what we are for.
What we are for, fundamentally, is the health and healing of the human person, both individually and collectively. Today, vast numbers are among the walking wounded. They are devastated by the effects of sin, strife, and painful situations. Some have physical ailments, others, spiritual ones. Some have been victims of abuse, often coming from broken and dysfunctional families that are so common today. Still others suffer financially.
Do those who are suffering see and experience the Church as a place to find healing, support, and encouragement? Many people today assert that if there any rules at all, if there is any mention of sin at all, then it is not a place of healing or of love. This is a false dichotomy, for law and love are not opposed, but rather facets of the same reality. Because God loves us, He commands us. His love and His law are one and the same.
As a Church, we have a lot of work to do. We must re-propose the gospel to a cynical, rebellious age. Even though this work is hard, we are not excused from doing it. We must be known as communities of healing, places where sinners can find a home and hear the truth in love.
For too long now, we have allowed our opponents to demonize us. As our culture continues to melt down, as our families are destroyed, as the effects of sin loom ever larger, we must continue to articulate a better way: the way of Jesus. Is it hard? Sure! But it was not easy for the first apostles, either, and yet they did it anyway.
In this passage from Acts we see the amazement of many at the healing that was found even in the mere shadow of Simon Peter. The sick and the suffering were amazed at Jesus’ power, in His early Church, to bring forth healing.
Do we boldly request healing from God? Do we even expect it? Do the sick, the suffering, the addicted, and the tormented know that they can come to a Catholic parish and have clergy and lay people pray over them? Are parishes places where they know that people will walk with them in their journey of repentance and give them encouragement?
Or are we just going through the motions? Are we busy with parish meetings, figuring out how to raise funds for the next trip, or organizing the annual parish carnival? How are we known and perceived in the community? Are we a clubhouse or a lighthouse? Are we just some big meeting hall or are we a hospital, with ministry and healing for people with real suffering and sorrow?
A word about Peter’s “shadow” – The Church is called to engage individuals, both directly and indirectly. Because we are human beings, we do not always have the resources or the ability to engage everyone at a deeply personal level. But even here, the shadow of the Church is meant to fall on the community and bring healing. Perhaps this shadow is the ringing of the church bells. Perhaps it is the sight of clergy and religious sisters moving about the community in their religious attire. Perhaps it is processions of the faithful in May or on Corpus Christi. Perhaps it is the beauty of religious art and church buildings. Perhaps it is the memorable stories of the Bible, beautifully retold in poetry.
However she does it, the Church is meant to engage the culture, both implicitly and explicitly. It is clear today that the relationship between faith and culture has broken down. Holy days have been replaced by holidays. As the world becomes increasingly secular, it is even more important for us to celebrate our faith publicly, to make our presence in the culture widely known.
In recent times, Catholics have been all too willing to abandon their faith, their culture, their distinctiveness. The shadow of Catholicism no longer brings a moment of coolness in the heat of our cultural firestorm. Too many Catholics hide their faith. No longer do they wear signs of the faith or adorn their homes with Christian symbols. We have sought to fit in, to blend in, and have as a result become almost invisible.
The healing, cooling shadow of the Church and of faith must be felt in our culture.
IV. Delivering from Demons – The text concludes by saying, A large number of people from the towns in the vicinity of Jerusalem also gathered, bringing the sick, and those disturbed by unclean spirits, and they were all cured.
In this portion of the text, the Church is described as a place of deliverance for many who were troubled by unclean spirits, by demons.
One of the great mistakes of the Church in the 1970s was our retreat from the spiritual work of deliverance. It is nothing short of malfeasance on the part of many in the clergy, who have surrendered one of their most essential works and relegated it to the secular order.
It often happens that people arrive at our rectories troubled, tormented by demons. Perhaps they hear voices or experience a dark presence. Perhaps they are tormented by depression and anxiety. While there are psychological dimensions, we cannot and should not simply conclude that psychotherapy is all that is needed. People may need such help, but they also need deliverance.
The Scriptures are clear that demons and satanic influence are realities we face. Demons are active and operative in our world. While it is wrong for us to reject the help that psychotherapy and medical intervention can provide, as God’s ministers we must be willing to play our role: praying for their deliverance from the demons who torment them.
The faithful must also be engaged in deliverance ministry. Scripture does not present the deliverance from demons as merely a work of the clergy. The Lord gave authority to drive out demons not just to the 12 but also to the 72 (cf also Mk 16:17-18, inter al). Major exorcism is reserved to the clergy, but deliverance prayers are something we should all pray for one another.
A central work of the Church is to deliver people from the power of Satan, to transfer them from the kingdom of darkness unto the Kingdom of Light, to shepherd God’s people out of bondage and into freedom. When people come to us tormented by demonic incursions, we can and ought to pray for them. Parishes should be places where people can find clergy and others trained in deliverance ministry to lay hands on them and pray for their deliverance.
Deliverance ministry also involves walking with people for a lengthy period, helping them to name the demons that afflict them, to renounce any agreement with those demons, to repent, and to receive deliverance and the power of Jesus’ name. Any good deliverance ministry will interact with psychotherapy and medical intervention but will also insist on the regular celebration of the Sacraments of Confession and Holy Communion.
Deliverance ministry can and must become a regular feature of parish life once again. Priests and parishes must reengage in this work of the Church, of delivering souls from bondage and bringing them to Jesus Christ, the author and perfecter of our freedom.
This passage is such a powerful and challenging portrait of the early Church! As Catholics, we have the glory of reflecting quite clearly the structure and form of the early Church, but structure alone is not enough. We must also be infused with and come alive again with the gifts described.
Share this reflection with your pastor, but do not make it all depend on him. Pray for him, but also take your own rightful role in the parish and in the wider community for effective change and powerful ministry. God deserves it, and his wounded people need it.
Stoning of Stephen With Saul Holding Cloaks, Fra AngelicoIn Wednesday’s reading, the Acts of the Apostles sets forth an event that amounts to a tale of one Church in two cities or regions. It illustrates well a couple of points: that the Church is always in need of reform and that our lives are not merely about us and what we want. Let’s look at the event in two scenes.
Scene 1: The Church in Jerusalem –
There broke out a severe persecution of the Church in Jerusalem, and all were scattered throughout the countryside of Judea and Samaria, except the Apostles. Devout men buried Stephen and made a loud lament over him.
Saul, meanwhile, was trying to destroy the Church; entering house after house and dragging out men and women, he handed them over for imprisonment. (Acts 8:1-4)
Up until now the Church in Jerusalem has experienced steady growth. To be sure there has been some persecution, but mainly of Peter, John and the other apostles. A passage from earlier in Acts describes a kind of springtime for the Church in Jerusalem following Pentecost:
They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. A sense of awe came over everyone, and the apostles performed many wonders and signs. …With one accord they continued to meet daily in the temple courts…sharing their meals with gladness and sincerity of heart, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved. (Acts 2:42-47)
And yet, just at this moment of growth the Lord permits a persecution that, in many ways devastates the young community. There is the first martyrdom, a widespread arrest of Christians (led by Saul) and a scattering of “all” the community. A worldly perspective may ask, “Why O Lord?! This is bad timing. The Church was just getting her feet on the ground in Jerusalem and you have permitted her to be all but destroyed!”
Yes, the Lord had summoned the Church to the cross. And why? God alone knows the full reason, but we can speculate as to some reasons.
In the first place, the idyllic picture of Acts 2 has already been marred by squabbles and injustice of ethnic origin. The Greek-speaking widows were being neglected, it would seem (Acts 6:1). This may also point to other internal struggles that give the impression that the Church may be losing focus on essentials and that the outward priority of evangelizing is giving way to inward squabbles.
Further, there is the emerging picture of a Church rather settled in Jerusalem. But had the Lord not summoned them to go into all the world teaching, evangelizing, saving and drawing people to the sacraments? (see Matthew 28:19-20; Luke 24:47). There is no mention to this point of that taking place, or of any plans for it. So, perhaps the Lord permits this persecution to give the Church a nudge out of the nest. In saying they were scattered, we get the image of seed being sown. The blood of martyrs is seed for the Church and persecution fires up the faithful and distinguishes them from the merely fair-weather friends of the Lord. Ecclesia semper reformanda (the Church is always in need of reform).
The upshot of the whole episode is evangelical, for the faith now spreads north to Samaria and into Judah.
Scene 2: The Church in Samaria (The Church and Mission are Bigger than Us) –
Now those who had been scattered went about preaching the word.
Thus Philip went down to the city of Samaria
and proclaimed the Christ to them.
With one accord, the crowds paid attention to what was said by Philip
when they heard it and saw the signs he was doing.
For unclean spirits, crying out in a loud voice,
came out of many possessed people,
and many paralyzed and crippled people were cured.
There was great joy in that city. (Acts 8:4-8)
Here is a very different picture! Having been prodded by the Lord through a permitted persecution, the tears and suffering in one city, in one part of the Church, benefit others in a new and different part of the Church. Demons are being cast out, healings are taking place, the lame are walking, and there is great joy!
The seeds of faith are being sown by the suffering of some and watered by their tears that others be saved and come to joy. A psalm comes to mind: He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him. (Psalm 126:6)
So, the Lord had to prod the early Church to get moving. But this is only so that the work may become more fruitful and many more be saved.
And this points to two hard truths that, if accepted, are liberating:
Your life is not (only) about you.
You are not THAT important.
If we are not careful, we are very prone to become self-absorbed and think that our situation is the only thing on God’s radar. But the truth is, God has everyone’s needs in mind. My life is not simply about me and what I want and need and think and see. My life is also about what others need, and what others see and can contribute. I am not so important that God will sacrifice everything and everyone else just to answer my needs. God might actually ask me to suffer and sacrifice so that others may thrive. Our lives are intertwined with the lives of others. I have surely benefited from the sacrifices others have made, and I am called at times to sacrifice that others may come to know God and thrive. Thus, the Church at Jerusalem was permitted by God a persecution and a suffering so that others in Samaria and throughout the world would come to hear the Gospel and be saved. Scripture says elsewhere:
He who has an ear, let him hear. “If anyone is destined for captivity, into captivity he will go; If anyone is to die by the sword, by the sword he must be killed.” Here is a call for the perseverance and faith of the saints. (Rev 13:9-11)
In our times of self-esteem, we can go too far and presume that my life is all about me and nothing and no one is more important that me and I what I and my family need. Or we can become very focused on the issues that preoccupy us in the Church in America or think that everyone sees what we see, or experiences what we do. This is myopic. The Church is bigger than me or my parish or my country. The Church is in every land, speaks every language and extends back in time and forward as well. God has a little more on his radar than “me” or our small and temporary group.
This small story from Acts reminds us that the Church is always in need of reform. It also reminds us that the Church is more than me or us. Here is one Church with two scenes. In Jerusalem there is weeping, but in Samaria there is joy. My life is not about me alone. I both benefit from the sacrifices of others and am called to make sacrifices for others. The blood of martyrs is seed for the Church, the tears of the persecuted will often water those seeds. It is a hard but a freeing truth. In heaven we will see what our sufferings accomplished. For now, we must accept whatever the Lord decides, be it suffering or joy, or some combination of both. My life isn’t just about me or what I want. It’s also about you and what you need.
Given our brief sampling of the Book of Ruth in daily Mass, perhaps a reflection is in order.
The detailed background to the text is too lengthy to go into here, but a few points will help. The story features three main characters: Boaz, Ruth, and Naomi. Boaz is clearly a picture (or “type”) of Christ. He was born and lives in Bethlehem; he ultimately acts as Ruth’s “kinsman-redeemer” by rescuing her from poverty and paying the price so as to cancel her debt. This, of course, is just what Christ does for us: He redeems us by His blood, canceling our poverty and debt. Ruth is a picture of the individual soul in need of Christ’s redemption and mercy. Naomi plays several roles in the book, but in the passage we will consider here she is a picture of the Church; she advises Ruth in what to do and draws her to Boaz, her redeemer.
Consider the following text and then let us see how Naomi symbolizes the Church.
Naomi said to Ruth, “Is not Boaz … a kinsman of ours? Tonight he will be winnowing barley on the threshing floor. Wash and perfume yourself, and put on your best clothes. Then go down to the threshing floor, but don’t let him know you are there until he has finished eating and drinking. When he lies down, note the place where he is lying. Then go and uncover his feet and lie down. He will tell you what to do.” “I will do whatever you say,” Ruth answered (Ruth 3:2-5).
The advice that Naomi gives to Ruth is very much in line with the instruction that our Mother the Church gives us. In our poverty and under the debt of our sin, we are exhorted by the Church to seek our “Boaz,” who is Christ. (I am indebted to Rev. Adrian Rogers for supplying the alliterative headings below. They are his; the rest of the text is mine).
Be Firmly Convinced – Naomi says, Is not Boaz … a kinsman of ours? Tonight he will be winnowing barley on the threshing floor. Ruth knows her poverty, her pain, and her debt; so does Naomi. She exhorts Ruth to seek Boaz because he is near and can help. Boaz is wealthy and thus has the power to save Ruth, to draw her out of her overwhelming poverty; he has the capacity to cancel Ruth’s debt. She is to seek him at the threshing floor, where he is preparing and providing the bread that will sustain her. She must go, firmly convinced that Boaz will love her and save her.
So, too, does the Church exhort us: Seek the LORD while he may be found; call on him while he is near (Is. 55:6). Yes, there is one among us, a near kinsman, who is not ashamed to call us his brethren (Heb 2:11); His name is Jesus. As God, He has the power to save us and to cancel our debt. Cast your cares on him, for he cares for you (1 Peter 5:7). Jesus is at the threshing floor of His Church, preparing a banquet for you in the sight of your foe (Psalm 23:5). The grain He is winnowing is the Eucharistic Bread of His own flesh. Yes, says the Church, come to Jesus, firmly convinced of His love and His power to save.
Be Freshly Cleansed – Next, Naomi simply says, “Wash.” In other words, the first step in finding help from Boaz is to be freshly cleansed.
So, too, does the Church draw us to Christ with the exhortation to wash. Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:38). Yes, the love of God will be poured forth on us and the cancellation of our debt will take place as we are cleansed of our sins.
Here are some other texts in which the Church—our Naomi, our Mother—exhorts us to be washed:
● Come near to God and he will come near to you. Wash your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded (James 4:8). ● Since we have these promises, dear friends, let us purify ourselves from everything that contaminates body and spirit, perfecting holiness out of reverence for God (2 Cor 7:1). ● Wash and make yourselves clean (Is 1:15). ● Depart, depart, go out from there! Touch no unclean thing! Come out from it and be pure, you who carry the vessels of the LORD (Is 52:11). ● And now what are you waiting for? Get up, be baptized and wash your sins away, calling on his name (Acts 22:16). ● Let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water (Heb 10:22).
Be Fragrantly Consecrated – Naomi says to Ruth, “and perfume yourself.” In other words, make yourself nice to be near; Come with an aroma that is sweet and pure.
So, too, does the Church, our Naomi, exhort us to be fragrantly consecrated. The fragrance we are called to is that of a holy life, which we receive in baptism. Our life in God should be like a sweet incense or perfume. Consider some of the following texts that the Church gives us:
● Live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God (Eph 5:2). ● For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing (2 Cor 2:15). ● [The groom (Christ) speaks to his beloved:] You are a garden locked up, my sister, my bride; you are a spring enclosed, a sealed fountain. Your plants are an orchard of pomegranates with choice fruits, with henna and nard, nard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with every kind of incense tree, with myrrh and aloes and all the finest spices (Song 4:12). ● Aaron must burn fragrant incense on the altar every morning when he tends the lamps (Ex 30:7).
Be Fitly Clothed – Naomi says to Ruth, “and put on your best clothes.”
Our Mother the Church also advises us to be fitly clothed. For a Christian, this means to be adorned in the righteousness that comes to us in Christ by baptism. In the baptismal liturgy, the Church says to the newly baptized of the white garment that he or she wears, You have become a new creation and have clothed yourself in Christ. Receive this baptismal garment, and bring it unstained to the Judgment seat of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you may have everlasting life.
In other words, be fitly clothed. Wear well the garment of righteousness that Christ died to give you. Scripture, too, speaks of the garment in which we are to be fitly clothed:
● I delight greatly in the LORD; my soul rejoices in my God. For he has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels (Is 61:10). ● Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to be clothed with fine linen, bright and pure—for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints (Rev 19:7).
Be Fully Committed – Naomi continues, Then go down to the threshing floor, … until he has finished eating and drinking. When he lies down, note the place where he is lying. Then go and uncover his feet and lie down.
In other words, she is telling Ruth to place herself at the feet of her redeemer. This action of Ruth’s was a way of saying to Boaz, I put myself under your protection; I am fully committed to you.
The Church bids us to do the same: go to the threshing floor, to that place where the threshed and winnowed bread becomes the Eucharist.
Beneath or near every Catholic altar is the cross; on that cross are the uncovered feet of Jesus Christ.
The most sacred place on earth is at the feet of Jesus Christ. The Church, our Naomi, bids us to gather each Sunday at the altar, beneath the uncovered feet of Christ. The Church says to us just what Naomi said to Ruth: Place yourself at the feet of your Redeemer.
Be Faithfully Compliant – Naomi says to Ruth, confidently and succinctly, He will tell you what to do.
Here, too, the voice of the Church echoes what Mother Mary said long ago regarding her Son: Do whatever he tells you (Jn 2:5). How can our Naomi, the Church, say anything less or anything else? The Church has one message: Do whatever Christ, your redeemer, tells you.
So Naomi is a picture of the Church, Boaz a picture of Christ, and Ruth a picture of the soul in need of salvation.
How does the story end? I’m tempted to tell you to read it for yourself, but since Boaz is a picture of Christ you already know the ending. Ruth, firmly convinced, freshly cleansed, fragrantly consecrated, and fitly clothed, fully commits herself to Boaz and is at his feet. Boaz, who saw and loved Ruth before she ever saw or loved him (cf Ruth 2:5), arises and takes her as his bride, paying off all her debt and giving her a new life. Sound familiar? It is the story of salvation, if we but have eyes to see it.
The Feast of St. Lawrence, deacon and martyr, contains an important teaching on the economics of the Kingdom of God. As you might guess, they are quite paradoxical. The teachings come to us both through St. Lawrence’s life and the particular readings selected for his feast.
When a persecution broke out in Rome in 257 A.D. (under Valerian), the Prefect of Rome suspected that the Church had a great fortune hidden away. He ordered Lawrence to bring the Church’s treasure to him. Lawrence promised to do so in three days’ time. Then, going through the city, he gathered together all the poor and sick supported by the Church.
When the Prefect arrived, Lawrence presented them, saying, “This is the Church’s treasure.” In great anger, the Prefect condemned Lawrence to a cruel death: He was tied to an iron grill and gradually roasted over a slow fire. The Lord gave Lawrence so much strength that he is said to have quipped, “Turn me over; I’m done on this side.”
The first economics lesson comes from Lawrence’s response to the Prefect of Rome’s demand: In the Kingdom of God, the most important things aren’t things at all. People—especially the poor, afflicted, and needy—are precious to God. It is our awareness of our own poverty, neediness, and sickness that unlocks the mercy and grace of God.
The second lesson comes from the reading for the Feast of St. Lawrence: If you want to truly have something, give it away.
St. Paul writes,
Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. … As it is written: “He scatters abroad, he gives to the poor; his righteousness endures forever.” The one who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed and increase the harvest of your righteousness (2 Cor. 9:6, 9-10).
Note the promise that if we are generous in sowing the seed of alms to the poor, we will have more, not less. In effect, the Lord teaches that if He can trust us with a small matter like money, He can trust us with larger ones such as the graces that lead to righteousness.
Further, the implied reasoning is that if God can count on us to use something like money well (in accordance with His call to generosity), then He will entrust us with even more money (often giving us more). If we give, God will multiply what we have so that we can give even more. This applies to both money and holiness.
This is also taught in both Luke’s and Matthew’s Gospels:
Give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. (Luke 6:38)
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Mat 6:20-21)
We may wonder how we can store treasure in Heaven. Do we send it up in a balloon or a rocket? Surely not. No, we put it in the hands of the poor! In this way, it is stored up in Heaven. Thus Jesus advises,
And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous wealth,so that when it fails they may receive you into the eternal dwellings (Luke 16:9).
Worldly wealth will fail us. When it does and our judgment day comes, the needy and poor whom we have assisted will welcome us and tell the Lord to be merciful in judging us. The Lord hears the cries, prayers, and recommendations of the poor. In this world, the poor need us, but in the next (especially on judgment day), we will need them. We are well advised to be generous to the poor, for God rewards us not merely with more money, but with righteousness, which is the only wealth that matters on judgment day.
The Lord also warns,
One who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much, and one who is dishonest in a very little is also dishonest in much. If then you have not been faithful in the unrighteous wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches? And if you have not been faithful in that which is another’s, who will give you that which is your own? (Luke 16:10-12)
Do you want to really have something? Give it away in love; if you are faithful unto the end, it will be yours for eternity. Indeed, it will multiply your fruitfulness. It is what we give away that we truly have. This is what Jesus means when He says, Whoever has will be given more, but whoever does not have, even what he thinks he has will be taken away from him (Lk 8:18).
How different and paradoxical all this is to our worldly thinking, which too easily thinks of wealth as a zero-sum game: if I give something away, I no longer have it. The Lord, however, refutes that. He says that if you give something away, then you truly have it. Doing so shows that He can trust us; He will respond by multiplying our life, perhaps with grater abundance, but surely with righteousness.
The third lesson comes from the Gospel for the Feast of St. Lawrence: What is true with our wealth is also true regarding our very life.
Amen, amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life (Jn 12:24-25).
Here is another paradox. Do you really want your life? Is so, then lose it. Die to your present self so that you can become your true self. Stop clinging to your worldly notions about what your life should be about: wealth, power, beauty, popularity. Die to that and rise to something far greater than you could ever ask for or imagine yourself to be. Your greatness is in knowing God and inn being caught up in a deep union with Him.
To attain this, however, you must be as willing to fall to the earth like a seed and die to your current self; then you can rise to something far more glorious. Consider the tiny acorn: It can only become a mighty oak if it falls to the earth and dies to being a mere acorn. This is even more the case with us!
Each of us is a seed of glory, but for the glory to be unlocked we must lose and die to what is. This is not something that waits until the day we physically die. Rather, it refers to a spiritual dying, to self and the priorities of this world, that occurs throughout our life. Only in this way can the Kingdom of God begin bearing true and lasting fruit. Our physical death is only the end of a lifelong process. If we die to this world by detesting its mere trinkets, we attain to the treasure of eternal life. The word “eternal” refers not merely to the length of life, but to its fullness. Lose what is merely passing and partial and gain what is glorious and godly, better and beautiful.
These are the economics of the Kingdom of God. They are paradoxical to be sure, but true and glorious!
Many of you have likely read the classic description of the Church from the 1951 novel Dan England and the Noonday Devil, by Myles Connolly. It is a wonderful reminder that the Church is not an institution, but a Body, made up of members who, each in his own unique way, give witness to the one Body, which is Christ. Here is an excerpt from the book:
The Church to me is all important things everywhere. It is authority and guidance. It is love and inspiration. It is hope and assurance. It is God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. It is our Lady and St. Joseph. It is St. Peter and Pius XII. It is the bishop and the pastor. It is the catechism and it is our mother leaning over the crib teaching us our evening prayers. It is the cathedral at Chartres and the cross-tipped hut on Ulithi. It is the martyrs in the Colosseum and the martyrs in Uganda, the martyrs at Tyburn and the martyrs at Nagasaki. It is the wrinkled old nun and the eager-eyed postulant. It is the radiant face of the young priest saying his first Mass, and the sleepy boy acolyte with his soiled white sneakers showing under his black cassock….
It is the spire glimpsed from a train window and the cruciform miniature of a church seen far below on the earth from an airplane. It is six o’clock Mass with its handful of unknown saints at the communion rail in the gray dark and it is pontifical High Mass with its crowds and glowing grandeur in St. Peter’s….It is the Sistine Choir and it is the May procession of Chinese children singing the Regina Coeli in Peking.
It is the Carthusian at prime on Monte Allegro and the Jesuit teaching epistemology in Tokyo. It is the Scheutveld Father fighting sleeping sickness in the Congo and the Redemptorist fighting prejudice in Vermont. It is the Benedictine, the Augustinian, the Passionist, the Dominican, the Franciscan. It is all religious and especially the great unnamed Order of the Parish Priest.
It is the Carmelite Sister lighting the tapers for vespers in the drear cold of Iceland and the Sister of Notre Dame de Namur making veils for First Communion in Kwango. It is the Vincentian Sister nursing a Negro Baptist dying of cancer in Alabama and the Maryknoll Sister facing a Communist commissar in Manchuria. It is the White Sister teaching the Arabs carpetmaking in the Sahara and the Good Shepherd Sister in St. Louis giving sanctuary to a derelict child, a home to a lamb who was lost. It is the Little Sister of the Poor salving the sores of a forgotten old man in Marseilles, the Grey Sister serving the destitute in Haiti, the Blessed Sacrament Sister helping a young Negro write poetry in New Orleans. It is the Sister of Charity… It is all the Sisters everywhere.
It is the crippled woman who keeps fresh flowers before our Lady’s altar and the young woman catechist who teaches the barefooted neophytes in the distant hills. It is the girl who gives up her bridge game to drive the Sisters to the prisons and the homes of the poor, and it is the woman who goes from door to door begging for help for the orphanage. It is the proud mother of the priest and the heartbroken mother of the criminal. It is all mothers and sisters everywhere who weep and suffer and pray that sons and brothers may keep the Faith.
….It is the bad sermon and the good, the false vocation and the true. It is the tall young man who says the Stations of the Cross every evening and it is the father of ten who wheels the sick to Mass every Sunday morning at the County Hospital.
It is St. Martin and Martin de Porres, St. Augustine and St. Phocas, Gregory the Great and Gregory Thaumaturgus, St. Ambrose and Charles de Foucauld, St. Ignatius and Ignatius the Martyr, St. Thomas More and St. Barnabas. It is St. Teresa and St. Philomena, Joan of Arc and St. Winefride, St. Agnes and St. Mary Euphrasia. It is all the saints, ancient and new, named and unnamed, and all the sinners.
It is the bursting out of the Gloria on Holy Saturday and the dim crib at dawn Mass on Christmas. It is the rose vestments on Laetare Sunday and the blue overalls of the priest working with the laborers in a mine in the Ruhr.
It is the shiny, new shoes and reverent faces of the June bride and groom kneeling before the white-flowered altar at nuptial Mass, and it is the pale, troubled young mother at the baptismal font, her joy mingled with distress as she watches her first-born wail its protest against the sacramental water. It is the long, shadowy, uneven line of penitents waiting outside the confessional in the dusk of a wintry afternoon, each separate and solemnly alone with his sins, and it is the stooped figure of a priest, silhouetted against the headlights of a police car in the darkness of the highway as he says the last prayers over a broken body lying on the pavement beside a shattered automobile.
It is the Magnificat and it is grace before meals. It is the worn missal and the chipped statue of St. Anthony, the poor box and the cracked church bell. It is peace and truth and salvation. It is the Door through which I entered into the Faith and the Door through which I shall leave, please God, for eternity.
So there it is: The Church. Somewhere in this picture is you, sharing your gift and serving in your role. The Church is Christ. And all of us who are baptized are baptized into Christ, members of His Body.
Somehow I sense the rhythm of a Bach fugue as I read the description above. You probably think I’m stretching things, but consider this:
In the video below, an organist plays Bach’s Fugue in C Major. As with any musical fugue, the organist begins by announcing the theme, playing it with his right hand. Soon enough the left hand answers and eventually the feet play the theme in the pedal. The fugue then takes the theme through a series of mathematical progressions. Eighth notes become 16th notes and then even 32nd notes, but the basic theme is always being developed.
Now think of the organist as Christ, the Head of the Body, and the organ as the Body of Christ. The organ, like any body, has many parts. Because the purpose of an organ is to make sounds, the different pipes are used to make different sounds. There are diapasons, the reeds, the flutes, and the string pipes. The reeds are made up of various sounds like the trumpet, oboe, and vox humana. The string pipes make different sounds as well, such as viola, salicional, and dulciana. The flutes also come in many varieties as do the diapasons. There are wonderful mixtures that give brightness. The deep, low notes of the pedal, sometimes as low as the 32′ contra Bombarde, make the whole building shake. This, too, is an image of the Church. Christ is able to make beautiful music with this wonderful variety.
How does Jesus make this music? Like an organist playing a fugue, Jesus announces the basic theme that underlies every other aspect of the song. This theme is the truth of the Gospel. Every voice of the Church takes up that theme and sings it out in its own sound, using its own gift—but it is Christ who plays. Jesus expands and enriches the theme in a kind of development of doctrine that He leads the Church to proclaim. Rich diverse sounds develop and build thematically, but there is always the basic theme, the fundamental truth.
Yes, here is an image of the Church in a Bach fugue and in a virtuoso organist making beautiful music through unity with a wondrous instrument.
As we go through the Book of the Prophet Isaiah at Mass this week, we read of Israel’s painful purifications as well as the subsequent punishment of the surrounding nations.
