According to the video below, the Dos Equis “Most Interesting Man in the World” is being replaced; there is now a new “Most Interesting Man in the World.”
And the Verizon “Can you hear me now” guy has defected to Sprint.
What is this world coming to? How can this be?
Scripture says, We have here no lasting city (Heb 13:14). There is a well-known saying that used to be etched on many fireplaces: Sic transit gloria mundi (Thus passes the glory of the world). Yes, worldly things are fleeting; honors fade. The person at the top will be replaced. Someday, even the names of the most popular and famous people today will be met with responses like this: “Who? Never heard of him!”
As for man, his days are like grass;
he flourishes like a flower of the field;
for the wind passes over, and he is gone,
and his place knows him no more (Psalm 103:15-16).
Those of you who read my posts regularly know that I have often expressed great fascination with and affection for the pets I have had over the years. I am in awe of the whole of the created order, which proclaims God’s glory.
However, there are important distinctions between the human person and the created order that sometimes get lost in modern movements such as environmentalism, animal rights, and even in the realms of philosophy and science.
Consider a recent article on CNN.com that reported on the quest to communicate with dolphins, a species that the article calls “the first intelligent inhabitants of the planet.”
In his paper, Ryabov calls for humans to create a device by which human beings can communicate with dolphins. “Humans must take the first step to establish relationships with the first intelligent inhabitants of the planet Earth by creating devices capable of overcoming the barriers that stand in the way of … communications between dolphins and people,” he said. … “As this language exhibits all the design features present in the human spoken language, this indicates a high level of intelligence and consciousness in dolphins,” he said in the paper, which was published in the St. Petersburg Polytechnical University Journal: Physics and Mathematics last month. “Their language can be ostensibly considered a high developed spoken language.”
(The full article can be read here: Dolphins may have a spoken language, new research suggests)
Such lazy wording in a published scientific paper is disturbing on its face. Though admitting we do not really know what the dolphins are saying, the scientist concludes that their language exhibits all the “design features” in human spoken language. Really? How does he know that? For example, human language can exhibit the use of the future perfect tense (e.g., “By tomorrow I will have finished.”). Can the scientist show me that dolphins use such a tense? Do they use gerunds? How do they conjugate verbs? Can he show me how dolphins make use of higher rhetorical concepts such as prolepsis?
The scientist goes on to say, “Their language can be ostensibly considered a high developed spoken language.” The use of the word “ostensibly” buys him a lot of room for later denials, but still, such a statement seems incredibly rash.
I would argue that such conclusions are stunningly out of proportion to the evidence. One can only hope that this is a case of a journalist reporting too simplistically, rather than that the scientist himself is drawing such conclusions with so little basis.
This CNN report showcases many of troubles common today in discourse about human beings and animals. There seems to be a fundamental assumption that there is little difference between humans and animals, particularly the higher primates. Dolphins, too, seem to have been given a rather high place in the animal kingdom hierarchy.
But I would argue that the distance between man and even the highest forms of animal life is by no means small; it is a distance so large as to indicate a difference not merely in degree but in kind. This is demonstrable from straightforward observation. A thing can be known by its effects. Apple trees do not bear oranges nor do they bring forth baby pandas. As we look at animal kingdom, even its highest members, some questions begin to emerge. If, as many assume today, animals are really “just like us,” where are the effects?
Where are their great cities? Where are their libraries, universities, and hospitals? Where are their bicameral legislatures, in which they debate justice, pass laws, and organize for the common good? Where are their courts, in which they hold one other accountable, punish crime, and administer justice? Where are their great cathedrals, in which they worship God and prepare for death and the next world? Where are their works of art? Where are their museums, in which they honor their history and reflect on their progress? For that matter, where is their progress at all? How have they made technological advances or better organized their lives? Do they show any progress from one hundred or even a thousand years ago? Have they progressed from the use of simple tools to more advanced ones? Have they gone from rudimentary living to more complex behaviors and accomplishments? Does their knowledge and technology build over time? Have they learned anything new at all? Have they been to the moon and back? Have they probed the stars?
I could go on with these questions for pages, but the point is to illustrate that the differences between the human person and even the highest members of the animal kingdom are so vast as to indicate a fundamental difference.
Physically, I am not so different from my cat. Like me, she is a mammal; we share most of the same basic physical functions. She can feel pain, experience hunger, and sense danger. I have some physical abilities that are better than hers: opposable thumbs and a larger brain, for example. But she outpaces me in other areas: more acute senses of hearing and smell, for example.
But most of the similarities end with the physical level. My cat has no higher life. She does not ponder justice and other metaphysical concepts. She does not ask why or join me on protest marches. She does not appreciate great music or read literature. I could put on music that brings me to tears while she just lies there unmoved.
All the observations I have made and questions I have asked are indicative of a fundamental difference between man and even the highest of animals. The difference comes from capacities that humans have and animals do not.
In philosophy and theology, we attribute these vast differences to the fact that human beings have a rational soul. Humans can have command of metaphysical concepts such as justice, mercy, beauty, and truth. We can ask questions like why and how. These lead us to explore, to experiment, to progress, to debate, and to insist on what is best. Our longing for truth, goodness, and beauty draw us to something beyond ourselves and beyond simply what is. We have developed complex interrelationships that we call civilization.
The difference between humans and animals is fundamental, not merely accidental. We are different because of a capacity within us we call our rational nature.
What you have just read is more of a pastoral reflection than a philosophical treatise. One may quibble with a particular point, but I contend that the overall picture indicates a vast difference between man and animal, a difference not merely in degree but in kind.
This essay is meant to be a response to the sad situation in the world today, wherein many have reduced the human person to little more than a smart ape or an advanced animal. We are much more than that. We have rational souls that can soar above the merely physical. As one of the remedies for the darkness of our times, we must recover a sense of our unique dignity.
The readings for Wednesday’s Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross provide rich teachings. Let’s look at five themes, each in turn.
I. The Pattern of the Cross – One of the stranger passages in the Old Testamentis the one describing a command Moses received from God to mount a bronze snake on a pole.
The people had grumbled against God and Moses because of the “wretched” manna they had to consume (Numbers 21:5). Even though it was the miracle food, the bread from Heaven that had sustained them in the desert, they were sick of its blandness. (Pay attention, Catholics who treat the Eucharist lightly or find it boring!) God grew angry and sent venomous snakes among them, causing many to die (Numbers 21:6). The people then repented. and, in order to bring healing to them, God commanded a strange and remarkable thing: Make a snake and put it up on a pole; anyone who is bitten can look at it and live (Numbers 21:8).
What about no graven images? It was God Himself who had said earlier in the Ten Commandments, Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth (Ex 20:4). Yet here He commands that a graven image be made.
Why does God do this? That is covered in the next section.
II. The Palliative Cross – When Moses made a snake of bronze and showed it to the people, those who looked at it became well (Numbers 21:9).
In a way, it is almost as if God were saying to Moses, “In rejecting the Bread from Heaven, the people have chosen Satan and what he offers. They have rejected me. Let them look into the depth of their sin and face their choice and the fears it has set loose. Let them look upon a serpent. Having looked, let them repent and be healed; let their fear of what the serpent can do depart.”
In today’s Gospel, Jesus takes up the theme and fulfills it, saying, And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life (John 3:14). It is almost as if he is saying, “Let the people face their sin and see its ugly reality: what it does to me, to them, and to others. Let them face their choice and seek healing repentance. Let them also see the outstretched arms of God’s mercy and find peace.”
There is something about facing our sins, shortcomings, anxieties, and fears. There is something about looking them in the face in order to find healing. One of the glories of the Catholic faith is that it has never hidden the cross; it has never run from it. There have been brief times when, shamefully, we de-emphasized it. But throughout most of our history, the crucifix has been prominently, proudly, and fearlessly displayed in our churches. We cling to it and glory in it.
Do you know how shocking this is? Imagine that you were to walk into a church and instead of seeing a crucifix you saw Jesus dangling from a gallows, a rope around His neck. Crucifixion was the form of execution reserved for the worst of criminals. It was shocking, horrifying, and emblematic of the worse kind of suffering. When the Romans saw or thought of something awful they would cry out in Latin, “Ex cruce!” (From the cross!), for they could think of nothing more horrible to which to compare something. This is the origin of the English word “excruciating.” Crucifixion is brutal—an awful, slow, ignoble, and humiliating death: ex cruce!
But there it is, front and center in just about every Catholic church. There it is, at the head of our processions. There it is, displayed in our homes. We are bid to look upon it daily. Displayed there is everything we most fear: suffering, torment, loss, humiliation, nakedness, hatred, scorn, mockery, ridicule, rejection, and death. The Lord and the Church say, “Look! Don’t turn away. Don’t hide this. Behold!” Face the crucifix and all that it means. Stare into the face of your worst fears; confront them and begin to experience healing. Do not fear the worst that the world and the devil can do, for Christ has triumphed overwhelmingly. He has cast off death like a garment and said to us, In this world ye shall have tribulation. But have courage! I have overcome the world (Jn 16:33).
III. The Paradox of the Cross – In a world dominated by power and its aggressive use, the humility and powerlessness of the cross accomplishing anything but defeat both surprises and upsets the normal worldly order.
At the heart of today’s second reading is the declaration that Christ humbled Himself and became obedient unto death—death on the cross. But far from ending His work, it exalted Him and brought Him victory. To the world this is absurdity, but to us who are being saved it is the wisdom and power of God. Consider that darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hatred cannot drive out hatred; only love can do that. And pride cannot drive out pride; only humility can do that. At the heart of Original Sin and every personal sin is the prideful notion that we know better than God. Satan’s fundamental flaw is his colossal pride; he considers himself equal to God. He is narcissistic, egotistical, and prideful.
The solution to conquering pride is not to have greater pride, but rather to manifest humility, as Jesus did. And while Satan disobeyed God, Jesus humbly obeyed His Father. He did not cling to His divine prerogatives, but rather laid them aside, taking up the form of a slave and being seen as a mere human being. It was in this way that He humbled Himself and obeyed, even unto the cross. Jesus was seen as the lowest of human beings, accepting a death reserved for the worst of criminals and sinners, even though He Himself was sinless and divine.
So astonishing is Jesus’ humility, that it literally undoes Satan’s pride and the collective pride of all of us. It is the great paradox of the cross that humility conquers pride, that God’s “weakness” conquers human power and aggression, that love conquers hate, and that light dispels darkness.
It is the great paradox of the cross that makes a public spectacle of every human and worldly presumption.
IV. The Power of the Cross – The Gospel today announces the great power of the cross: So must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.Thus Jesus, the Son of Man, when He was lifted up from the earth, called to the heart of every human person. And those who believe in Him and look to Him are saved from their sins and snatched from the hands of the devil. The power of the cross is the power to save.
Not only are we saved from the effects of our sins, we are empowered to live a whole new life. The text says that God does this so that we might not perish but have eternal life. The word eternal does not refer simply to the length of life, but also to its fullness. By the power of the cross, we are given the gift to live a completely new life, transformed increasingly into the very holiness, freedom, joy, and blessedness of the life of Christ. In dying to this old life with Him in Baptism, we rise to the new life that He offers: a life increasingly set free from sin, a life transformed from vice to virtue, from sorrow to joy, from despair to hope, and from futility to meaningfulness and victory. Thus the power of the cross is manifest as the power of the tree of life.
V. The Passion of the Cross –Why all this? Why this undeserved gift? In a word, love. “For God so loved the world …” Yes, God loves the world. Despite our rebellion, our unbelief, our scoffing, and our murderous hatred, God goes on loving us. He sent His Son to manifest His love and to obey Him within the capacity of His humanity. Cassian says that we are saved by the human decision of a divine person. Jesus loved His Father and us too much to ever say no to Him. And the Father loves us too much to have ever withheld the gift of His Son from us, even though Jesus is His only begotten Son, the greatest gift He could ever offer. In His love, God does not withhold this gift, but offers Him.
Why do you exist? Why is there anything at all? How are you saved? God so loved the world, God so loved you. God is love. And God, who loves us, proclaims the truth to us and invites us to accept His truth. He does not force His love upon us, but invites us and gives us every grace to turn and come to Him. Why does He care? Why does He not simply force us to obey? Because God is love and love invites; it does not force. Love respects the will of the beloved and seeks only the free response of love in return.
The cross—nothing is more provocative. Nothing is more paradoxical. Nothing is greater proof of God’s love for us and of His desire to do whatever it takes to procure our yes to His truth, His way, and His love. Run to the cross and meet the Lord, who loves you more than you can imagine and more than you deserve. Run to Him now, because He loves you.
There are times when one reads something from one of the saints and is stunned by the tremendous insight, the piercing analysis, like a surgeon’s scalpel dividing diseased from healthy tissue. Such was my experience recently when reading a passage from St. Bernard of Clairvaux.
In this passage, Bernard analyzes the descent into the increasing darkness of sin experienced by those who refuse to hear the call to repent. I would argue that it applies not just to individuals, but to entire cultures.
Here is the entire passage:
If this cold once penetrates the soul when (as so often happens) the soul is neglectful and the spirit asleep and if no one (God forbid) is there to curb it, then it reaches into the soul’s interior, descends to the depths of the heart and the recesses of the mind, paralyzes the affections, obstructs the paths of counsel, unsteadies the light of judgment, fetters the liberty of the spirit, and soon—as appears to bodies sick with fever—a rigor of the mind takes over: vigor slackens, energies grow languid, repugnance for austerity increases, fear of poverty disquiets, the soul shrivels, grace is withdrawn, time means boredom, reason is lulled to sleep, the spirit is quenched, the fresh fervor wanes away, a fastidious lukewarmness weighs down, brotherly love grows cold, pleasure attracts, security is a trap, old habits return. Can I say more? The law is cheated, justice is rejected, what is right is outlawed, the fear of the Lord is abandoned. Shamelessness finally gets free rein. There comes that rash leap, so dishonorable, so disgraceful, so full of ignominy and confusion; a leap from the heights into the abyss, from the courtyard to the dung heap, from the throne to the sewer, from heaven to the mud, from the cloister to the world, from paradise to hell (Sermon 63.6b on the Song of Songs, “The Fox in the Vineyard”).
Let’s examine the passage in stages. My comments are shown in red. Fasten your seatbelts; turbulence ahead!
If this cold once penetrates the soul when (as so often happens) the soul is neglectful and the spirit asleep – It too easily happens that we are morally or spiritually asleep. This provides a doorway for the world, the flesh, and the devil. Jesus warns, Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak (Matt 26:41). And yet we love to sleep. We also love to anesthetize ourselves with alcohol, drugs, and other diversions. Jesus says in one of the parables that he sowed good seed in his field, But while everyone was sleeping, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away (Matt 13:25). Bad things happen when we are spiritually and morally asleep.
and if no one (God forbid) is there to curb it, then it reaches into the soul’s interior, descends to the depths of the heart and the recesses of the mind – If we are smart, we walk in spiritual company with the Church, close spiritual friends and spiritual leaders within the Church. Even if at times we get sleepy, they can rouse us and warn us. Too many do not do this; if they pray at all they are “lone rangers” and many drift from or discount the voice of the Church and family members. So either we have put ourselves in a position in which there is no one to warn us, or we ignore the warnings we do get. Thus the darkness of sin reaches deeper into our interior.
paralyzes the affections, – The first thing we lose is our desire for spiritual things.
obstructs the paths of counsel – The darkness of sin makes good counsel offered to us seem difficult at first and later on appear downright obnoxious. For example, one may begin to wonder, “Why does it matter whether I go to Mass?” or “Why is looking at a little porn so bad?” or “Why is the Church so ‘uptight’ about things?”
unsteadies the light of judgment – Severed from good counsel, our judgment becomes poor and self-serving.
fetters the liberty of the spirit – The (human) spirit is that part of us that opens us to God, that delights in truth and goodness. But as the flesh begins to dominate, the spirit’s influence is diminished. Its “liberty” to move within us to draw us to the good, true, and beautiful, is hindered.
and soon—as appears to bodies sick with fever—a rigor of the mind takes over: – Our thoughts become distorted; “stinking thinking” begins to seem sensible. St. Paul said of the Gentiles of his time that, having suppressed the truth, they became futile in their thinking, and their senseless minds were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools (Rom 1:21-22).
vigor slackens – What was once virtuous and easy to do now seems hard, and one lacks strength to do good.
energies grow languid – Without the enthusiasm of an alive spirit infused with grace, we begin to lack the energy to do what is good and right. It all seems so much harder, so much effort!
repugnance for austerity increases – As the spirit descends more into a “coma” and the flesh becomes more demanding, attempts to limit pleasure make us angry. It is almost like the situation with gluttony, wherein the stomach is stretched so that more and more food is required to reach satiety.
fear of poverty disquiets – The more we get, the more we have to lose and hence the less secure we feel. The world and the flesh now have in their grip on us through fear. Poverty is freeing, but wealth enslaves. You can’t steal from a man who has nothing to lose; you can’t intimidate him. But a rich man, one rooted in the world, has too much to lose and is thus disquieted by even the most benign of threats. The laborer’s sleep is sweet, whether he has eaten little or much; but the rich man’s wealth will not let him sleep at all (Eccles 4:11).
the soul shrivels – Just as any part of the body that is underused begins to atrophy, so too the soul and its faculties. Increasingly unused, they recede, weaken, and go dormant.
grace is withdrawn – As sin grows more serious and descends into mortal sin, the soul is robbed of graces.
time means boredom – Without spiritual insight, boredom is sure to come. Nothing has real meaning; even the delights of the flesh fail to satisfy. Regarding a soul in this state, Scripture says, All things are wearisome; Man is not able to tell it. The eye is not satisfied with seeing, Nor is the ear filled with hearing. That which has been is that which will be, And that which has been done is that which will be done. So there is nothing new under the sun (Eccles 1:8-9).
reason is lulled to sleep – Foolish thinking is not seen for what it is. One cannot follow the path of simple logic or reason because the flesh feels threatened by it. Sins of the flesh are not the most serious of sins (sins of the spirit are) but they are the most disgraceful because of their capacity to cloud the mind.
the spirit is quenched – The human spirit becomes increasingly dead.
the fresh fervor wanes away – Good days, spiritually speaking, become fewer and fewer.
a fastidious lukewarmness weighs down – One actually begins to cultivate mediocrity, to celebrate it as open-minded, tolerant, and praiseworthy because it avoids “extremes.”
brotherly love grows cold –Sartre famously said, “Hell is other people.” Yes, sin is growing very deep now. The world is closing in on an increasingly petty object: me.
pleasure attracts – It always has, but now inordinately so and with greater and greater power.
security is a trap – In other words, it is a lie. This world is a thief; it takes back everything (no matter what the John Hancock Insurance Co. says). But increasingly, the sinful soul prefers lies to the truth, even knowing deep down that they are lies.
old habits return – Even if one had made progress in virtue, it now erodes.
Can I say more? The law is cheated – In other words, legalism and minimalism become tactics. One uses every trick in the book to take the clearly manifest will of God and parse words to claim it is unclear or does not apply, or to see how it can be observed in the most perfunctory of ways. One will often collect “experts” to tickle one’s ears. Whatever it takes to cheat the law, skirt the edges, and reinterpret the clear norms.
justice is rejected – After cheating the law, the next step down is to reject it outright. The person does not care what God says. He now begins to exalt his imperial, autonomous self. He says “I’ll do what I want and I’ll decide whether it’s right or wrong.”
what is right is outlawed, – Next comes trying to prevent others from proclaiming the truth: call what they say “hate speech,” fine them, arrest them make them answer in court, banish the truth from schools and the public square, demonize them, and criminalize all possible ways of proclaiming the truth.
the fear of the Lord is abandoned – The delusion that one will never face judgment for one’s actions is embraced.
Shamelessness finally gets free rein – Things that ought to (and used to) cause shame are now celebrated. Scripture laments them saying, they not only continue to do these very things but also approve of those who practice them (Rom 1:32). The celebration of sin—even the exaltation of it as virtue—shows that the darkness is now complete. The fall is complete with a crushing thud. St. Bernard describes it this way:
There comes that rash leap, so dishonorable, so disgraceful, so full of ignominy and confusion; a leap from the heights into the abyss, from the courtyard to the dung heap, from the throne to the sewer, from heaven to the mud, from the cloister to the world, from paradise to hell.
Pay attention to what the saints say! I’m sure that some people will dismiss this post as being overly “negative,” but I am more concerned with whether it is true. My own experience as a pastor, teacher, disciple, sinner, and denizen of the world, is that St. Bernard is right on target with his analysis and has given us a kind of diagnostic manual of the progression of the disease known as sin. Read this, ponder it, and consider your own life and the lives of those you love.
Unattended, disease has a way of moving deeper in stages. It becomes a grave matter if we do not soberly assess its presence and power and then apply the medicines of prayer, Scripture, the Sacraments, and fellowship with the Church (cf Acts 2:42).
Are you praying with me? Listen to St. Bernard of Clairvaux!
Do you remember the meaning of the literary term onomatopoeia? In case you’ve forgotten, it’s a word that sounds like the object it describes. Words like oink, meow, wham, sizzle, and my personal favorite: yackety-yak are examples of onomatopoeia.
There are times when music, including sacred music, has an onomatopoetic quality; they sound like what their words are describing. For example, there are songs that describe the crucifixion featuring hammer blows in the background, and songs about the resurrection and ascension that feature notes soaring up the scale.
The best way to understand musical onomatopoeia is to listen to examples of it. So, consider the eight examples of sacred music I present below, which powerfully take up the very sound of what the words are describing.
N.B. The clips below are meant to be played by an embedded player. If your browser does not support such a player, clicking directly on the source hyperlinks to link directly to the MP3 files.
This first clip is from the vespers of Jean-Joseph Cassanéa de Mondonville, a French composer who lived in the 1700s. In his treatment of the text of Psalm 126 Nisi Dominus (unless the Lord build the house) comes the line sicut sagittae in manu potentiae ita filii (like arrows in the hand of the mighty, thus are his children). This is a psalm that praises the gift of children and goes on to declare, “Blessed is the man who has filled his quiver with them!” In this short clip, the text sicutsagittae (like arrows) thrillingly depicts the sound of arrows flying forth. The sound is created both by the strings and the voices. As you listen, marvel at the vocal discipline required of the choir to create this musical onomatopoeia.
The second clip continues in a kind of battle-like mode. It is from the oratorio “Jepthe” by Giacomo Carissimi, who lived in the 1600s. It recalls the Old Testament story of Jepthe, one the Judges who ruled Israel prior to the monarchy. Jepthe is summoned to battle against the Ammonites and wins a great victory, only to fall into the grave sin of keeping an evil vow that leads to the death of his only daughter. The clip we will hear is from the battle scene in the oratorio. The Latin text is Fugite, fugite, cedite, cedite impii, corruite, et in furore galdii, dissipamini! (Flee, flee, yield, yield, impious ones, be scattered, in the furor of swords we strike you down!) You’ll hear pulsing sounds from the choir and strings, reminiscent of the sound of clashing swords and spears. The rushing sounds of the strings also paint a picture of a fleeing army. The sudden softening of the volume of the choir creates the image of an army that has fled and is now off in the distance.
Our third musical onomatopoeia is probably the best known of all the clips presented here. It is from Handel’s Messiah. The text says, “All we like sheep have gone astray.” Sure enough, the music sounds just like what the words describe as the choir creates a meandering sound. One can almost hear and see the sheep going astray.
And while we are considering animals, our fourth clip is a musical onomatopoeia that imitates the sound of a cock crowing. It is from the motet “Vigilate” by William Byrd. The text of the Motet is from Mark’s Gospel (13:35-37), in which the Lord Jesus, Vigilate, nescitis enim quando dominus domus veniat, sero, an media nocte, an gallicantu, an mane (Watch! For you know not when the lord of the house is coming, whether in the evening, at midnight, at the cock crow or morning). The excerpt is of the choir singing the words an gallicantu (at cock crow). Just see if the music sung doesn’t imitate the very sound of a cock crowing (cock-a-doodle-doo)! It begins in the men’s voices but becomes clearest in the treble voices at the end.
The fifth clip depicts a common technique in Orchestral Masses. At the words crucifixusetiampronobis (and He was also crucified for us), the orchestra takes up the sound of hammer blows. The clip is from the Beethoven Mass in C. Listen especially to the deep bass and cello sounds and the hammer blows they bring to mind.
Our sixth clip moves us from war and suffering to love. It is Palestrina’s treatment of a text from the Song of Songs. The Latin text is Surge amica mea (Arise my beloved). As the word surge (arise) is sung by the various voices, the notes soar high through the scale. (The sopranos reach the highest notes, of course.)
The seventh clip is from a well-known motet by Thomas Luis Victoria, a Spanish priest, mystic, and composer of the 16th century. The Latin text is O Magnum Mysterium (O Great Mystery). The overall text develops the idea of the paradoxical mystery that animals would witness the birth of Christ and see him rest in their feed box (manger). In the opening bars, hollow fifths evoke the very mystery of which the text speaks. Victoria’s mystical prayer resonates through this wonderful piece.
Our eighth and final clip bring us to Jericho and another battle scene, this one thrillingly set forth in the arrangement of the African-American spiritual “The Battle Jericho” by Moses Hogan. We hear the percussive intensity of a battle during the siege of the walls and the likely use of arrows and swords. A soprano soloist takes up the sound of the trumpet that the Lord directed to be sounded. And then the choir imitates the sound of falling with their final word, “Down!”
So, then, here is a brief tour of musical genius evident in the sacred music of the Christian tradition. Perhaps you know of other examples of musical onomatopoeia!
The three parables in today’s lengthy Gospel challenge conventional thinking. They describe people doing things that we most likely would not do. All three of them— especially the first two—seem crazy. Who would ever do what the shepherd of the lost sheep does or what the woman with the lost coin does? Probably no one. Likewise, the father in the Prodigal Son parable breaks all the rules of “tough love.” His forgiveness has an almost reckless quality to it. No father in Jesus’ time would ever have tolerated such insolence from his sons. So all three of these parables, on one level, are just plain crazy.
But that is one of the most fundamental points Jesus seems to be making here: The Heavenly Father’s love for us is just plain “crazy.” By that I do not mean that it is irrational, but that it stretches the limits of human thinking.
I also intend no irreverence in my use of the word. Please permit me a bit of hyperbole in trying to describe the astonishing quality of God’s love and mercy. Permit, too, my stepping away from the normal interpretation of these parables. The normal approach is to strive to make sense of the images through certain presumptions. But I wonder if that approach does not miss the truer intent of the Lord here: presenting God’s love for us as mysterious and to some degree unexplainable in human terms. Who really understands unlimited and unconditional love? Who can really grasp the depths of God’s mercy? His grace is “amazing” in that it goes completely beyond our ability to comprehend. It transcends human concepts. Thank God! If God were like us we’d all be in trouble; frankly, we’d all be in Hell.
Let’s look at each parable. (Today’s Gospel is too lengthy to reproduce in this post; you can read the entirety of it here: Luke 15.)
I. The Parable of the Lost Sheep – The Lord speaks of a shepherd who leaves ninety-nine sheep to search for one that is lost. Would a shepherd do this? Probably not! The passage drips with irony, even absurdity. If he knew the lost sheep were nearby, a shepherd might venture over the next hill, but it would be more likely that he would cut his losses and stay with the ninety-nine. Some of us might even consider it irresponsible to leave the ninety-nine to search for the one.
Many scholars and Church Fathers make sense of this parable by appealing to possible shepherding practices of the first century. Some of the Fathers ponder that the ninty-nine are the angels and the Lord left them to pursue us, the one who strayed. Perhaps, but there is really nothing in the parable that suggests that. And while theories abound, I wonder if trying to explain the parable does not miss the point: God’s love is extravagant, personal, and puzzling. In the end, it would seem that God loves us for “no good reason.” He seems to love us even more when we stray. He intensifies His focus on the one who strays. To us this is not only crazy, it is dangerous—possibly enabling. God’s love for us is extravagant beyond what is humanly reasonable or explainable. Don’t try to figure it out. Don’t try to analyze it too much. Just be astonished; be amazed. Yes, this is crazy. That God loves us is crazy, unexplainable.
II. The Parable of the Lost Coin– A woman loses a drachma. It’s a small coin, worth perhaps one day’s wages for an agricultural worker. In modern terms it would equate to less than $100. Not an insignificant amount, but not a huge amount either. She sweeps the floor diligently looking for it. So far, her reaction seems reasonable. I’d probably look around a while for a missing “Benjamin”!
Things get crazy, though, when she finds it. She rejoices to such an extent that she spends most (if not all) of it on a party celebrating the found coin! Crazy!
But that is exactly the point. God doesn’t count the cost. He doesn’t weigh his love for us in terms of if it is “worth it.” Some of the Fathers and commentators try to explain the craziness by suggesting that perhaps the coin had sentimental value as part of her dowry or ceremonial head-dress of ten coins. But here too, the parable does not supply that fact, and over-analyzing and trying to explain or make sense of it may well miss the point.
This woman is crazy because God is “crazy.” His love for us is extravagant beyond what is humanly reasonable or explainable. Don’t try to figure it out. Don’t try to analyze it too much. Just be astonished; be amazed. Yes, this is crazy. That God loves us is crazy, unexplainable.
III. The Parable of the Prodigal Son – A young man, entitled by law to a third of his father’s estate, essentially tells his father to “drop dead.” He wants his inheritance now and the old man isn’t dying fast enough. Incredibly, the father gives it to him!
Crazy! The father is a nobleman (land owner) and could hand his son over for serious punishment for such dishonor. Inheritance in hand, the son leaves his father and goes off to “a distant land,” where he sinks so low that he ends up looking up to pigs. He comes to his senses and returns to his father, daring only to hope to become one of his father’s hired workers.
But then it gets even crazier! The father sees his son from a long way off (meaning that he was looking for him), and then does something a nobleman would never do: he runs. Running was considered beneath the dignity of a nobleman because it would imply that he was either a slave on an errand or a fugitive. Further, in order for a man to run in the ancient world, he first had to “hike up” his long flowing robe. Otherwise, his legs would get tangled up in the garment and he would likely trip and fall. For a nobleman to show his legs was considered an indignity.
Do you get the picture? This nobleman, this father, is debasing himself, humbling himself. He is running and his legs are showing. This is crazy! Do you know what this son has done? Does he deserve this humble love? No! The father is crazy!
Exactly! The heavenly Father is “crazy” too. He actually loves us and humbles Himself for us. He even sent His own Son for us. Do you and I understand what we have done? Do we deserve this? No! It’s crazy!
The second son is also a handful. When he hears of the party being given for his wayward brother he refuses to come in. Again, it would have been unthinkable in the ancient world for a son to refuse to come when summoned by his father. And what does the father do? He comes out and pleads with him to enter!
Again, it’s crazy! It’s unthinkable. No father in the ancient world would ever have permitted his son to speak to him in this way. The son basically calls him a slave-driver who issues orders; he refuses to enter the party that his father is hosting, saying that he’d rather celebrate with his friends than with his father. But (pay attention here) the goal in life is not celebrate with your friends; it is to celebrate with the Father in Heaven.
This father is crazy. He is crazy because God the Father is crazy. Do you know what it means to refuse to do what God says? And yet we do it every time we sin! Our heavenly Father should not have to tolerate this. He is God and we are His creatures. If He wanted to, He could squash us like bugs! But He does not. The father in this parable is almost “dangerously” merciful. Shouldn’t his sons be taught a lesson? Shouldn’t he punish them both for their insolence? All our human thinking kicks in when we hear this parable.
But God is God, not man. There are other Scriptures that speak of God’s punishments. But in the end, none of us get what we really deserve. Jesus’ point in the parable is that God is merciful and His love is crazy; it makes no human sense. His love for us is extravagant beyond what is humanly reasonable or explainable. Don’t try to figure it out. Don’t try to analyze it too much. Just be astonished; be amazed. Yes, this is crazy. That God loves us is crazy, unexplainable.
The video below is a trailer for an upcoming movie. I can’t comment on the full context of the movie (since it hasn’t yet been released), but there are several important messages in the trailer. Allow it to bring forth in you a salutary fear; don’t be fascinated by the cheap parlor tricks of Satan or the Hollywood depiction of them.
Let’s take away four lessons from the trailer.
As the trailer begins, it seems that some scam artists have drawn in gullible people with fake séances and other forms of divination. There are hidden people who speak and make noises in order to convince the “customers” that the dead are actually being contacted.
Lesson One: Never dabble in the occult, even as a ruse or a joke. Those who do so often discover that the spirits they invoke in jest are deadly serious and quite real. Never invoke dark sprits and never seek information from the dead. Evil spirits can and often do masquerade as the souls of the departed; it’s a deception.
As the trailer progresses, things get very ugly. The characters go from lies and ruses (which are sinfully ugly enough) to an encounter with the Father of Lies. One of the characters, noting the abnormal behavior of a young girl asks, “Who are you talking to?” Believe me, you don’t want to know!
Lesson Two: Calling out to the dark world beyond often brings a response, and a very dark one at that.
As the trailer unfolds it seems that things get bad very fast. One of the characters says, “Something is happening that we can’t understand.”
Lesson Three: Satanic powers are masters of deception. All the parlor tricks (levitation, slamming doors, etc.) are meant to incite fear. But the real battleground is the mind and the very subtle deceptions of the Evil One. He subtly takes up the personality of the possessed soul and makes it difficult to understand who is really talking. Indeed, something is happening that is very difficult to understand, except perhaps for a trained exorcist. Even an exorcist enters the battleground with humility and careful discernment, rooted in considering the counsel of others on the team. For this and other reasons, an exorcist should never work alone. He should have an assistant priest and a team to assist him, to observe, to advise him, and to pray.
At one point in the trailer the priest says, “… you’ve opened up a portal.”
Lesson Four: Never open a door to the occult, even in a playful way. Ask not, lest you be answered, seek not lest you be found. Don’t joke or revile evil spirits (cf Jude 1:9). Our only message to them should be this: “In the name of Jesus, the Lord, be gone!”
Keep your eyes on Jesus and the saints. Do not be fascinated by demons or any aspect of darkness.
Movies like this one can incite a salutary fear, but they can also encourage an undue fascination with devilish things. No one who has ever assisted in an exorcism shares any of this fascination at all. Exorcisms are usually lengthy, tedious, and exhausting. There is no dramatic music, and things are never finished in a convenient 90 minutes. It’s an ugly process that weighs heavily on the participants. The demons usually shift quickly from cheap parlor tricks to subtle psychological deception.
If you chose to see this movie, please learn these lessons. Shed any fascination; there is nothing fascinating about evil. It is depressing, dark, and difficult to endure.
Remember that the Lord is more powerful that any satanic force. If you should ever encounter such evil, even through no fault of your own, summon the Lord and repeatedly declare aloud, “Jesus is Lord.” The sacraments, Holy Water, and other sacramentals are also very helpful. Do not panic, just have a salutary fear such that you keep a healthy distance from any dark powers.
Use care when watching this trailer. Let it provide you with information, but don’t let it fascinate you.
There is an old spiritual that says, “King Jesus is a-listenin’ all day long, to hear some sinner pray.” I thought of that line recently during my spiritual reading when, due to a page break, a quote from our Lord was interrupted. Here is the full verse:
Hitherto you have asked nothing in my name; ask and you shall receive, that your joy may be full (John 16:24).
As my dry fingers fumbled to turn the page, I was stuck for a time with only these words: Hitherto you have asked nothing in my name …
Something told me to put down the book to ponder only these words.
“But Lord,” I thought, “I ask all kinds of things of you in my daily prayers. And in every liturgical prayer I always conclude by saying ‘through Christ our Lord.’ Of course I ask things in your name!”
Now of course the Lord has more than certain specific words in mind. It is so easy to recite formulaic prayers in a mindless way. Even private prayers can be said in a half-heartedly, or we can ask for things in a self-serving way.
Hitherto you have asked nothing in my name …
Could it be that the Lord is waiting for something deeper from us, who would be His disciples? Is He really listening all day long just to hear someone pray—really pray?
We moderns, who live in an age when even first names are casually shared with strangers, don’t fully appreciate the meaning of the words “in my name.” To know the Lord’s name and to be permitted to use it is a sign of deep love, respect, and intimacy. In the ancient world, only close friends and family members spoke to one another using first names. Surnames and titles were used between those of less intimacy. To know someone’s name was to know something of his essence, to understand more deeply his inner life, thoughts, and desires.
In sharing his name with Moses, the LORD set forth an astonishing gift and family intimacy with His people. The glory of this gift is framed and protected by the Second Commandment, which forbids us to use God’s Holy Name in any vain, self-serving, dishonest, or empty way. Knowing Jesus’ name commands of us the same kind of reverential love.
Most fully, the name points to the intimate family bond and relationship to the Lord. Asking something in the Lord’s name is no mere formula or incantation. It cannot be reduced to invoking something superstitious or magical, like saying, “Open, Sesame.”
No, to pray in Jesus’ name bespeaks an intimate relationship in which we are deeply immersed in His thoughts, His priorities, and His concern for us and those whom we love. The power of praying in Jesus’ name comes from the fact that we are asking for what He already wants to give us. Praying in Jesus’ name helps to root us in what is truly good and necessary. It means that we no longer merely say, “Bless me, Lord, by giving me what I want.” Rather, we say, “What you want, Lord, is my blessing.”
Hitherto, you have asked nothing in my name …
Help me, Lord, to get to the point where I am more truly and deeply praying in your name, not just reciting it in prayer mindlessly, or as some sort of incantation. Yes, help me so that you are not waiting all day long just to hear this sinner pray!
Some may argue that I am pulling this (half) verse out of context and that Jesus is giving more of a discourse on His divinity and power. I have already admitted my contextual “fumble.” But sometimes, even the fumbled turn of a page is a call to prayer.
Hitherto, you have asked nothing in my name …
Either turn the page, or stop and pray. You decide.
