Author: Msgr. Charles Pope

When I was a teenager, I remember resenting how adults would try to prevent me from doing what I wanted. They would often warn me not to “learn the hard way” that something was wrong. I would often be told that I should learn from them and their experiences not to make the same mistakes they did. The rebel in me thought that it might be fun to “make a few mistakes of my own.” Arrogantly, I thought that I would escape the consequences.

In the end of course they were right; and one of the most valuable gifts I have received from others is to have learned from their experience. As a pastor too, I must say that my staff has saved me from innumerable errors through their expertise and long experience with the parish.

The word “experience” comes from the Latin experientia, meaning the act of trying or testing. More deeply, it comes from two Latin words: ex (out of) and periri (which is akin to periculum, meaning peril or danger). Hence “experience” refers to those who have endured trials, perils, testing, and danger, and speak of these to us so that we don’t have to endure the same things. It is a very great gift!

The Church too offers us the great gift of long experience. Indeed, one of the great advantages of making our home in the Catholic Church is that we are at the feet of a wise and experienced teacher who has “seen it all.” The Scriptures, the Catechism, the lives of the Saints—all of the Church’s teaching is a wealth of knowledge and collected experience for us. Through this vast treasury, The Church, as a good mother and teacher, helps us to learn from the experiences of others.

At this point I would like to let G.K. Chesterton do the talking:

The other day a well-known writer, otherwise quite well-informed, said that the Catholic Church is always the enemy of new ideas. It probably did not occur to him that his own remark was not exactly in the nature of a new idea…Nevertheless, the man who made that remark about Catholics meant something…What he meant was that, in the modern world, the Catholic Church is in fact the enemy of many influential fashions; most of which…claim to be new. [But] nine out of ten of what we call new ideas, are simply old mistakes.

The Catholic Church has for one of her chief duties that of preventing people from making those old mistakes; from making them over and over again forever, as people always do if they are left to themselves…There is no other case of one continuous intelligent institution that has been thinking about thinking for two thousand years. Its experience naturally covers nearly all experiences; and nearly all errors.

The result is a map in which all the blind alleys and bad roads are clearly marked, all the ways that have been shown to be worthless by the best of all evidence: the evidence of those who have gone down them. On this map of the mind the errors are marked…[but] the greater part of it consists of playgrounds and happy hunting-fields, where the mind may have as much liberty as it likes. But [the Church] does definitely take the responsibility of marking certain roads as leading nowhere or leading to destruction…By this means, it does prevent men from wasting their time or losing their lives upon paths that have been found futile or disastrous again and again in the past, but which might otherwise entrap travelers again and again in the future.

The Church does make herself responsible for warning her people against these; she does dogmatically defend humanity from its worst foes…Now all false issues have a way of looking quite fresh, especially to a fresh generation…[But] we must have something that will hold the four corners of the world still, while we make our social experiments or build our Utopias. (From Twelve Modern Apostles and Their Creeds (1926). Reprinted in The Collected Works of G.K. Chesterton, Vol. 3 Ignatius Press 1990)

Yes, what a gift! Many may take of the role of a pouting  teenager and be resentful at any warning from the Church. But in the end, it’s a mighty fine gift to be able to learn from others and benefit from their experience.

Here’s a funny commercial that shows the value of learning from the experiences of others:

We are currently reading through some wonderful “Wisdom Sayings” in the Office of Readings of the Liturgy of the Hours. Several of the sayings speak to the relationship between suffering and wisdom. And in this way the foolishness of our age, which is so hyper-focused on avoiding suffering at all costs, is exposed. Perhaps the link of suffering to wisdom is not the most pleasant of associations, but it is no less true for its difficulty. Let’s consider a few of the sayings.

The tone was set in the psalm of the day which says,

Make us know the shortness of our life, that we may gain wisdom of heart.  (Ps 89:3)

In the last portion of my sermon at every funeral, I say to the faithful very plain terms, “You are going to die, and you don’t get to choose when.”  I then ask them what are they doing to get ready to meet God.

For indeed in our culture, with all of our medicines and with the fact that many of the elderly die in nursing homes out of our sight,  we have tended to ignore the reality of death. And this creates the illusion that death is remote, that we can somehow stave it off indefinitely. To many people, death seems almost theoretical. And in our fallen state, of course we entertain willingly the illusion that death is remote.

And yet in our almost unprecedented ability to maintain this illusion, it is also evident how foolish our collective behavior has become.   Many people live with almost no thought that they will one day die and appear before the judgment seat of Christ, and will have to render an account for what they have done. Too many of us have wrongful priorities and spend most of our time and energy in passing, unimportant things. And we spend little or no time on eternal and certain things like death, judgment, Heaven, and Hell. Too many go on living in unrepentant mortal sin. All of this is foolishness on an almost colossal scale.

When I preach at funerals and say to people “You are going to die,” there is a visible reaction throughout the congregation. Some look anxiously amused; some look annoyed; and a few look knowingly and nod. But almost all are surprised, even shocked to hear something they almost never hear anymore.

As the Psalm verse implies by its logic, this silence about death is at the root of a great deal of the foolishness of our modern age.  Many surveys indicate that 75-80% of people are not living in any discernible way that acknowledges that they will die and must prepare for it. Most are not praying; they are not reading Scripture; they are not going to Mass or to any church; they are not receiving Communion; and many are in serious and unrepentant mortal sin. All of this  foolish neglect given the judgment that is coming upon them.

Sadly, when they do confront death and find themselves in a church for the funeral of a friend or relative, they are more likely to hear a “sermon” about what a great guy Joe was,  but little to nothing of their need to pray for him and to prepare for death themselves.

And thus the verse from the Psalm is indeed poignant, beautiful, and necessary: Make us know the shortness of our life, that we may gain wisdom of heart.

There then come a number of wise sayings in the book of Ecclesiastes that also speak to this theme.

It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to the house of feasting, for that is the end of every man, and the living should take it to heart.

To be sure, there is a time to celebrate and feast. We ought to rejoice with those who rejoice; we ought to celebrate the goodness of God. But as the saying from the Book of Ecclesiastes reminds us, there is also a place for mourning and suffering, and in some sense that is better for us.

The text goes on to explain why.

Sorrow is better than laughter, because when the face is sad the heart grows wiser.

Yes, mirth and celebration bring joy, but  sorrow and suffering bring wisdom. And though joy is wonderful, it passes in this world. But wisdom perdures and draws us to God. Wisdom is of God, and the things waiting for us in Heaven draw us to that place where true joys—joys that never end—are.

 And then text drives the point further home.

The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth…For as the crackling of thorns under a pot, so is the fool’s laughter.

Yes, jokes and laughter have their moments and they have their place. But too much draws us into foolishness. For the need to laugh, if we are not careful, comes to take on an almost addictive quality.

Any look at the “Comedy Channel” will confirm this. Most of the humor there is becoming edgier and edgier, more and more bawdy, filled with sexual content and the demeaning of many values such as family life, sexuality, and any number of human virtues. Comedians stand before large crowds in theaters and have the audience laughing about such foolish things as drunkenness, adultery, lust, greed, and pornography.  Comedians also spent a great deal of time demeaning well-known figures as well as many important human institutions and activities. At most comedy clubs almost nothing is sacred, and people will laugh at some of the most hurtful and hateful things.

And thus the text from Ecclesiastes warns that the heart of fools is in the house of mirth, as the crackling of thorns under a pot, so is the fool’s laughter. Though mirth has its place, it must be balanced with sobriety and respect—respect for what is holy, decent, admirable, and pure. This is seldom the case with comedy today.

Is this too harsh an indictment? The text from Ecclesiastes goes on to say,

It is better to hearken to the wise man’s rebuke than to hearken to the song of fools;

Yes, some who read this reflection may consider this biblical wisdom to be too “negative,” too judgmental, too rebuking.

Before rushing to judgment, though, one ought to consider that many of us have had a steady diet of “the song of fools.” Whether it is the filthy comedy just described, or the music, movies, and other media of pop-culture, which celebrate things like fornication, rebellion, and gratuitous violence; a steady diet of this sort of stuff is bound to make God’s word seem too severe.

Is the problem God’s Word, which summons us to sobriety, or is it sin, which makes us foolish and hypersensitive to any correction? Light is only abhorrent to those who are accustomed to darkness.

Is God’s word unbalanced, or are we? You decide for yourself. As for me, I will strive to listen to the Lord and seek balance on His terms, not the world’s terms, which are already the outer extreme. God’s Word is the reference, not the world’s excesses.

We must look at more Wisdom sayings next week! Our Lady Seat of Wisdom, pray for us!

Here’s a song about meditating on what is good, true, and beautiful—things which, having been discarded, are not sought as pearls of great value:

It is late in the evening on the east coast of the United States: the 23rd hour of the day we call February 25th. But where my Uncle, Fr. George Pope, lives (he is a priest in Bangladesh), not only is it already February 26th, but it has been so for some time. It is 9:00 in the morning there and people are likely arriving at work—on a day that has yet to begin for me. Further to the east, in Sydney, Australia, it is 1:00 in the afternoon of February 26th, and people are returning from lunch—before I have even gone to bed! In Wellington, New Zealand, the work day is almost over; it is 3:00 PM and many are looking to wrap things up in a couple of hours and head home—from a day that doesn’t even exist for me yet!

Time. What could be simpler than for me to look at the clock and say, “It is 11:00 PM on June 15th”? And yet what could be more mysterious than a simple thing like 11:00 PM, June 15th? For time interacts with space and folds back on itself. Time is simply a human reckoning of a mysterious passage.

And yet the mystery is also beautiful. At any given time, some of us sleep and some of us are at midday. There is a wonderful verse in an old English hymn that says,

The sun that bids us rest is waking
Our brethren ‘neath the western sky,
And hour by hour fresh lips are making
Thy wondrous doings heard on high.

And other verses say,

We thank Thee that thy Church unsleeping,
While earth rolls onward into light,
Through all the world her watch is keeping,
And rests not now by day or night.

As o’er each continent and island,
The dawn leads on another day,
The voice of prayer is never silent,
nor dies the strain of praise away.

They are magnificent lines, a beautiful and poetic description of the Church—always praising, always sighing, always at worship. While some sleep, the praises continue. One of the psalms says, Let the name of the Lord be praised, both now and forevermore. From the rising of the sun to the going down of the same, the name of the Lord is to be praised. The Lord is exalted over all the nations. (Psalm 113:2-4). And yet the praises never end, for the sun is always rising even as it is setting somewhere else on this earth.

And Malachi, prophesying the glory of the Mass celebrated worldwide, says, My name will be great among the nations, from the rising to the setting of the sun. In every place incense and pure offerings will be brought to my name, because my name will be great among the nations,” says the LORD Almighty. (Mal 1:11). At any one time, Mass is surely being offered somewhere on this earth. The Liturgy of the Hours too, always coming forth from the lips of the faithful somewhere on this spinning orb. Yes, in the mystery of time, this planet of ours is a place of perpetual praise. And our praises join the perpetual praises of heaven, for as the Liturgy proclaims (in the words of the new translation), And so, Angels and Archangels, with Thrones and Dominions, and with all the hosts and Powers of heaven, as we sing the hymn of your glory, without end we acclaim: Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of hosts…

Yes, the mystery of time, and our praises caught up in its ever-moving sweep. What St Paul says to us as individuals is also fulfilled by the worldwide Church. The advice is so simple and yet so profound. He says, Pray always (1 Thess 5:17)

Here is the full hymn (The Day Thou Gavest, Lord, is Ended) that was quoted above. The full text of the hymn is here: The Day Thou Gavest.

One of the criticisms of modern liturgy, and especially modern Church music, is that we sing so highly of ourselves. We are the “aware, gathered community” that, according to one song, has been “gathered in, and sung throughout all of history!” Another song seems to suggest that we have the power to “sing a new church into being.” Apparently the one Christ founded needs replacing!

A popular song back in my college years was “We are the light of the world!” And while it is true that Jesus called us this, it is clear that he meant it more as a challenge to us than as praise of us. Given the mess that this world is in, not to mention the darkness that permeates it, it does seem awfully bold to praise ourselves as being the “light of the world.”

I’m sure many of you could add any number of similar quotes from songs that illustrate our modern tendency toward anthropocentric praise of ourselves. I lost touch with most contemporary Catholic music when I began pastoring in African-American parishes some twenty years ago. Whether you like gospel music or not, there’s one thing you can’t deny: it’s all about God.

But given our tendency to praise ourselves in contemporary Catholic worship, I was amused at the line from the book of James from today’s Mass (Wednesday of the seventh week of the year).  James says (according to the lectionary translation we are using),

You are a puff of smoke that appears briefly and then disappears. (James 4:14)

Whoops, where did that come from? How did that tough little phrase to get into our self-congratulatory party?…Oh, that’s right, God said it.

All kidding aside, and to be fair, there is a glory to the human person, a glory that comes from God. But our sense of it must be received with deep humility. For whatever we have, we have received from God. St. Paul says, “What have you that you have not received; and if you have received it why do you glory as though you had not?” (1 Cor 4:7) Whatever glory we have is from God. Of ourselves, we are small, contingent beings; each of us is but a puff of smoke, a vapor, a mist. The slightest wind will scatter us.

My father wrote, in the frontispiece of a family history, the following from Psalm 103:

As for man, his days are like grass;  he flowers like the flower of the field;
the wind blows and he is gone and his place never sees him again

It is the same thing that James says in today’s reading. We are a puff of smoke or a vapor just before the wind blows or the sun rises. And David also says elsewhere,

Our years are seventy, or eighty for those who are strong. They pass swiftly, and we are gone. (Ps 90:10)

As Christians, such thoughts should not depress us, but they should sober us. This life, and worldly glories, are not the point. If they were, what a cruel joke it would be. A puff of smoke and then scattered by the merest breeze; it would be cruelty to say the least.

But for us Christians, we know that our life here is like the time we spent in the womb. Our tenure here is temporary, while we await a greater glory to come. The child in the womb for a while enjoys the warmth and seclusion of that secret place. But as growth takes place, the womb comes to seem confining and limiting. Then birth pangs deliver the news: “You were made for something larger, something greater.” Many things of this world give joy and a kind of warmth and pleasure. But if we are faithful, we outgrow these. Our heart expands and this world can no longer contain us.

The birth pangs of our looming death say to us, “You were made for something larger, something greater.”  So we go forth from the womb of this world to what the Psalms often call often call the wideness or spaciousness of the glory of God (e.g., 17:29; 117:5; 118:45 Vulgate). Most of us who are faithful will need the “afterbirth” of this world purged from us. But this having been done, we will be received into the loving arms of our God and Father. And this is our glory: to be caught up into the heart of God our Father who conceived us and who loves us.

But as James warns, in the wider context of calling us a “puff of smoke,” we must beware of a pride that roots us in this world and celebrates a human glory somewhere other than in the arms of God. He says,

Come now, you who say,
“Today or tomorrow we shall go into such and such a town,
spend a year there doing business, and make a profit”–
you have no idea what your life will be like tomorrow.
You are a puff of smoke that appears briefly and then disappears.
Instead you should say,
“If the Lord wills it, we shall live to do this or that.”
But now you are boasting in your arrogance.
All such boasting is evil. (James 4:14-17)

Yes, beware of arrogance; beware of your own plans. God must have his heartiest laughs when we tell him our “plans.”

People used to visit cemeteries, but in the arrogant and busy times in which we live, such visits are rare. During Lent, make it a practice to walk frequently in the nearest cemetery. And while there, behold the glory of this world; whatever it gives it takes back.

Yet to those who are faithful, whose remains lie in whatever cemetery you walk through, consider again the words of Jesus:

Unless the grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat. But if it falls and dies, it rises to produce abundant fruit. (John 12:23).

What will it be for you? Will it be the passing glories of this world, which die and then are trampled underfoot, or as the puff of smoke, blown away? Or will it be the seed that his sown, but dies to itself and rises to something far more glorious?

Will this world be for you a tomb, which seals you into itself, or a womb which births you to new and greater life?  The decision is yours.

I write this on the ninth anniversary of my mother’s death. She told me of Jesus and committed me to God (That’s my mother and me in the photo above right). Nine years ago, as her son and also her ministering priest, I placed her body into the Earth like a seed, so that she could rise to something new and more glorious that, “Eye has not seen nor ears ever heard, that no human mind could ever conceive.” (cf 1 Cor 2:9).

I who came forth from her womb, beheld her birth pangs as she went forth from the womb of this world. May Nancy Geiman Pope, and all of our beloved dead, rest now in that wider, that larger, that more glorious place we call Heaven.

I am confident she does; she died in faith. This world would not be her tomb. It was for her a womb, that birthed her to glory by God’s grace.

To this world, we are a puff of smoke. But to God, each of us is a beloved son or daughter that He seeks to birth unto glory. Will you let him?

Jesus once rebuked the people of his time for their stubborn and unrepentant hearts:

This generation is an evil generation; it seeks a sign, but no sign will be given it, except the sign of Jonah. Just as Jonah became a sign to the Ninevites, so will the Son of Man be to this generation. At the judgment the queen of the south will rise with the men of this generation and she will condemn them, because she came from the ends of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon, and there is something greater than Solomon here. At the judgment the men of Nineveh will arise with this generation and condemn it, because at the preaching of Jonah they repented, and there is something greater than Jonah here.” Luke 11:29-32

Stubbornness – It is a notable issue that sometimes sets up in both individuals and cultures as a whole: the heart becomes obstinate, stubborn, incorrigible, and unrepentant. Increasingly, the heart becomes hardened and unlikely to change, despite overwhelming evidence that the course one is on is both destructive and a source of great pain.

Perhaps a couple of examples from our culture will help to illustrate what the Lord is teaching.

The Problem of Promiscuity – The past fifty years have featured an explosion of promiscuity. I do not claim that there was no sexual sin prior to 1960, but it is a far wider problem today both in quantity and degree. And the terrible consequences of promiscuity are demonstrable: STDs, AIDS, teenage pregnancy, abortion, and the devastation of marriage and family. Divorce rates have soared. Co-habitation and other alternative arrangements have proliferated.

Children are the ones who suffer from not being raised in two-parent families under the formative influence of a father and mother, male and female. Predictably enough, the rates of juvenile delinquency have gone up [1] as test scores [2] and graduation rates [3] have plummeted. Promiscuity has also led to increased poverty (the chief cause of poverty in this country is single motherhood) [4]. Children living in fatherless homes are five times more likely to live in poverty, nine times more likely to drop out of school, 37% more likely to abuse drugs, twice as likely to be incarcerated, 2.5 times more likely to become teen parents, 20 times more likely to have behavioral disorders, and 32 times more likely to run away [4].

Well, you get the point. Promiscuity causes diseases, divorce, and the devastation of the family, which in turn harms children through abortion, poverty, and irregular family situations. Statistically, the results are clear—staggering.

Yet despite this, there seems little willingness in our culture to learn or even to reflect on the relationship of promiscuity to great harm. One might expect a rational person or culture to observe these sorts of results and say, “Gee, this is pretty bad. Maybe we should change the way we behave.” But not only is such a reconsideration not evident among most, but a kind of doubling down of bad behavior is occurring. There are increasing demands that the Church and other “moral police” be silenced and cease their “intolerant” attitudes. There are also demands that the government supply condoms, promote contraception, fund abortion, provide welfare that financially rewards single motherhood, and promote “value-neutral” sex education in schools. Even AIDS research, though fine in and of itself, is often demanded absent any appreciation that celibate behavior is an important aspect of prevention.

At some point we have to realize that promiscuity is destroying us. The breakdown of the family is a civilization-killer. But still we seem, as a culture, to be unable or unwilling to change the way we think and behave.

And thus we see illustrated what the Lord condemns: a stubborn and unrepentant heart.

Another example is our greed. On some level, we know by experience that our affluence troubles us sorely. The more we have, the more stressed out we become. The more affluent we become, the more Americans go on psychiatric and psychotropic drugs [5]. We are busy and stressed trying to maintain our extravagant lifestyles. We have never lived so long and in such good health, yet we have never been so anxious about our health. We have never had so much wealth before, yet we have never been so anxious about “the economy” and “the stock market.” Money worries us constantly. We buy things we can’t afford, and our credit cards worry us. We buy something and then are not satisfied, because a newer model has been issued and we feel “poor” (we are NOT poor) and diminished for not having the latest and greatest. More, fancier, bigger, deluxe options, but along with it, stress, dissatisfaction, and anxiety.

Despite knowing all this (and we DO know it), we still want more. Despite the evidence, we still upgrade, enlarge, and accessorize. At some point, you’d think we would say, “Enough! All this stuff is driving me crazy!  I think I will simplify my life and ask the Lord to make me satisfied with the essentials, or at least with less.” But we don’t. We stubbornly adhere to the greed (that insatiable desire for more) that we know torments us. In effect, our hearts have become stubborn and unrepentant both as individuals and as a culture. It seems we refuse to change in this regard.

And thus again we see illustrated what the Lord condemns: a stubborn and unrepentant heart.

We do well to ask the Lord to soften our hardened hearts. The Lord said to Moses on several occasions that we are a stiff-necked people (Eg Ex 32:9; 33:3; Deut 31:27; inter al). And through Isaiah He says that our neck is iron and our forehead is bronze (Is 48:4). To Ezekiel He said that we are stubborn and obstinate, not to mention hard of heart (Ez 2:4; 3:7).

It’s OK. He still loves us. But we need some serious help. And Lent is a good time to appreciate that. We need this help as individuals and as a culture. We tend to be stubborn and unrepentant. We tend to justify our behavior and have a cultivated blindness that refuses to see what is plainly before us.

Two Christians were speaking. One said, “In my church there are many miracles!” The other asks, “So you consider it a miracle if God does someone’s will?” “Yes!” replied the first. “Hmm…,” said the second, “In my church it is considered a miracle if someone does the will of God.”

Pray for a miracle.

In my college years, I worked with a company that built and serviced pipe organs around the Washington, D.C. area. During those years I probably entered some 300 different churches both Catholic and Protestant.

Of course, as a Catholic, I particularly loved going to the Catholic churches. I especially loved visiting the older city parishes that were built back before the revolution. I had grown up in the suburbs, where almost every church was built after 1955, when church building took a decided turn for the worse. In vogue were ugly, bland, beige buildings with carpeted floors and potted plants. A plain wooden table and two candlesticks were the altar. There were almost no statues, and rather than a crucifix, that strange 70s invention known as the “resurrected Christ” was on the walls floating in midair with his hands extended. Maybe there was a cross behind him…maybe, but he certainly wasn’t nailed to the cross. “We are resurrection people,” was the inevitable response to those of us who wondered aloud what ever happened to the very Catholic crucifix.

So there I was, a young man in my early 20s, toolbox in hand, come to tune and service a pipe organ. I would walk into one of those beautiful, old, city parishes with their soaring ceilings. More often than not, it was ornately decorated with carved stations of the cross, stained-glass windows, high altars made of marble and carved wood, statues, and burning candles. I could even smell the candles and the incense.

Every now and again I’d walk into an old church and be gravely disappointed. Someone had “wreckovated” it: painted its beautiful walls beige, demolished its altars,  turned its pews sideways, and carpeted its terrazzo floors. “Such a tragedy,” I thought.

No one really taught me to think this way, to prefer old churches. My parents were not all that traditional in terms of Catholicism. Somehow I just “felt” the magnificence of beauty in my bones. St. Thomas Aquinas teaches that the human person is wired for beauty. Somehow we innately appreciate symmetry, proportion, and order.

Once we’ve seen beauty, it’s hard to get it out of our system. Having grown up in the suburbs with their sterile churches, I was largely unaware of beautiful old churches. Yet in my early 20s, as I walked into many of them, some of them with a faded glory, so many of them wonderful to behold, I was struck by their beauty. And I’ve never gotten it out of my system. But of course, I’m not supposed to. Having seen beauty, I am meant to be drawn to it and to its beautiful message.

So in my mid 20s, my questions began to grow. What had happened? Why did we set aside such beauty? Why had we destroyed some of the beautiful things we already had?

One day I asked an older priest why so much had been discarded by the priests of his time. I thought I’d get a straight answer from him, because he had been one of those priests who reveled in all things new, yet later came to regret that many wonderful things had been discarded and lost.

I paraphrase the answer he gave in the first person. May he rest in peace (he died some years ago). I remember his words well, and he said something like this:

I think I need to say that we really thought we were doing the right thing. Many of us had grown greatly concerned that the Catholic Church was no longer able to speak to the modern age—an age that  was becoming increasingly sophisticated, scientific, etc. Increasing numbers of people had college degrees and demanded that faith speak to the intellectual and social issues of the day. But despite this need, we were still running churches that catered to a peasant and immigrant community. We were hunkered down in Catholic ghettos. The Catholic Church was increasingly identified with poor old immigrant women kneeling before statues, lighting candles, and fumbling with beads. Yes, our schools were full, but our children weren’t being “prepared for the future.”

It was thought to be a time that we had come of age in America. Science had reached new heights. There was talk of going to space; we had split the atom; computers and televisions were entering onto the scene.

Meanwhile, in our churches we were chanting in ancient languages and reciting old formulas. Many of us desperately thought this had to change if the church was ever to survive and be able to speak to the modern age. It’s funny that we didn’t turn to our own intellectual tradition. St. Thomas, St. Anselm, St. Augustine, and so many wonderful Church Fathers and Doctors had developed a rigorous intellectual tradition in the Church. Even still, all this seemed to us so “old-fashioned,” and the stuff of dusty old books.

A popular book from that time, “A Catholic Priest Looks At His Outdated Church,” articulated our many concerns for a Church that was out of touch with the modern world.

Regarding architecture, remember that Art Deco and other streamlined forms were very popular in the 50s. The phrase, “sleek and modern,” comes to mind. Straight lines and functional design were all the rage. But our churches pointed back to flourishes and excesses of what many people considered “myths” of a previous time. Why should we keep running to St. Blase to bless throats when modern medicine has more to offer? Did priests really have more to offer us by way of counsel than Sigmund Freud and other modern psychotherapists? Who needs exorcism when you have psychotherapy? Was not our time mumbling on beads better spent with social action?

Yes, we were desperately afraid that the Church was frozen in time, while the modern age was moving forward at the speed of light.

So we thought we were doing the right thing. Updating was essential if the Church was to survive and be able to speak to the modern age. We started gutting and simplifying churches to make them look “sleek and modern.” We started demanding more vernacular in the Liturgy and  in the celebration of the Sacraments. English was common in the Sacraments long before Vatican II. Baptisms and weddings were conducted almost wholly in English as early as the 50s.

For most of us, changes like these couldn’t come fast enough. How could we appeal to the new, young college “jet set,” to those were going to school on the G.I. Bill? How could we ever appeal to a  young, intellectual crowd while running old-fashioned, peasant churches, reciting “old myths,” novenas, legends of the Saints, and catechetical formulas?

And so we ushered in our little revolution, convinced that we were doing the right thing, convinced that this would save the Church from irrelevance in the modern, scientific, intellectual, and supposedly-sophisticated age. 

Remember the times! We were building the interstate highway system; we had just introduced television; there were scientists in lab coats seen everywhere, and computers were entering on the scene. We were planning to go to the moon by the early 60s! Yes, we thought we had come of age. If it was old it was bad, but if it was new it was good.

So, when the cry for “aggiornamento” (modernization) went out, the foundation for this phrase had been laid more than a decade before. Whatever the Pope meant, most of us in the trenches heard, “out with the old, in with the new!”

That was Father’s answer to me. I appreciated it, first of all because I trusted him; he was no rebel. He had come to see many erroneous insights for what they were. But he did at least have this testimony: that many who undertook the revolutionary cry did not do so with malice. They thought they were doing the right thing.

Let me be clear, dear reader: I do not write these reflections as a complete repudiation of any updating or changes that occurred back in the 60s and 70s. Ecclesia semper reformanda (the Church is always to be reformed).  Yet most of us looking back on that time do not see just a few minor updates, but rather a great rupture in the hermeneutic of continuity. And the rupture was about far more than just art and architecture. It was about the shredding and scrapping of time-tested theological teachings in favor of trendy sociological and psychological substitutes, questionable moral philosophies, dubious Scriptural theories, and the like. It was about open disobedience to liturgical norms and the casting aside of our spiritual traditions in favor of far-Eastern and other non-Christian philosophies.

It is one thing to make necessary adjustments, for example as language changes and our terms need adjusting. Further, as new avenues emerge for evangelization (such as the Internet and social media), we ought to use them.

Archbishop Fulton Sheen, considered by most as a conservative, was actually quite cutting-edge as he exploited a new medium called television. But he combined age-old wisdom with modern forms of communication.

Too many of us in the Church have not gotten this balance right, and in favoring the new we discarded the old. We have not been like that wise man our Lord Jesus praised: Therefore every scribe who has become a disciple of the kingdom of heaven is like a head of a household, who brings out of his treasure things new and old. (Matt 13:52)

I do not argue here for a wholesale return to the “old days” or to an exclusively Latin Liturgy. My first concern remains those who demand we change our doctrine to suit the times. We cannot. Liturgical debates and changes permit some leeway, but not the doctrines and solemn moral teachings of the Church.

Even today, there are far too many in the Church who want to go on making the mistakes described above by my older priest friend. How desperately they want the Church to adapt to the modern age by discarding the received doctrine, tradition, and wisdom of God. Too many would have us reflect the modern age, rather than Christ. In order for the Church to be “welcoming,” modern, and sophisticated, they believe we must succumb to worldly demands that we “cave” on many issues related to marriage, sexuality, respect for life, and Church authority and governance. The Church cannot survive, they say, unless we make these sorts of changes.

Never mind that denominations that have done just this (such as the Episcopalians and many branches of the Lutherans and Methodists) have suffered far worse declines than we have. Still, many insist that we must better reflect the modern “wisdom” of the modern age in order to appeal to it.

But really, have we not learned at this point that seeking a rapprochement with the world only ends in the further erosion of the Church and the ultimate impoverishment of the world? Our modern world is in a mess, in darkness, because we have failed to be what we are supposed to be—a light in the midst of darkness and a sign that is often contradicted.

It is not the job of the Church to be popular, to reflect the thoughts of the times, or to parrot worldly “wisdom.” It is the job of the Church to reflect the views of her founder and head, Jesus Christ, who speaks  in the Scriptures and through the sacred Tradition he handed down to us. It is not our  job to be appealing, or even numerous. It is our work to proclaim that which has been received, whether in season or out-of-season.

In the Sunday readings of the past two weeks, St. Paul has also hammered away at this theme. He calls us to remember that we live in a world that is arrayed against God’s wisdom, that mocks and ridicules it. If we are configured to Christ and his Cross, we will often be called fools. But as St. Paul writes, the wisdom of the world is foolishness to God.

Those who come to God’s house do not need another voice to parrot the same thing they hear from the news anchors, the talking heads, or the University intellectuals. What the world needs, and what every Catholic needs when he comes into the Catholic Church, is someone who speaks God’s wisdom. The world will often called this foolishness, call it out of touch, backward, intolerant, bigoted, or homophobic. But we speak the wisdom of God.

To conclude, here are some reminders of what Paul has been teaching us in the sacred Liturgy these last three weeks:

1. For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written: “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise; the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate.” Where is the wise person? Where is the teacher of the law? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know him, God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe. Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength. (1 Cor 1:18-25)
2. Do not deceive yourselves. If any of you think you are wise by the standards of this age, you should become “fools” so that you may become wise. For the wisdom of this world is foolishness in God’s sight. As it is written: “He catches the wise in their craftiness” ; and again, “The Lord knows that the thoughts of the wise are futile.” So then, no more boasting about human leaders! (1 Cor 3:18-21)
3. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him. (1 Cor 3:27-29)

In today’s Gospel the Lord is teaching us, by His grace, to break the cycle of retribution and hatred. When someone harms me, I may well experience anger. And in my anger I may seek to get back at the offender. If I do that, then Satan has earned two victories and brought the anger and retribution to a new level. And most likely, the one who originally harmed me will take exception to my retribution and try to inflict more harm on me. And so the cycle continues and escalates. Satan loves this.

Break the Cycle – The Lord has dispatched us onto the field to turn the game around and break the cycle of retribution and hatred. In effect, the “play” he wants us to execute is the “it ends with me” play.

Don’t Play on Satan’s Team – To hate those who hate me and to get back at those who harm me is to work for Satan, to play on his team. Why do that?

To advance the ball for Jesus is to break the cycle of retribution and hatred by taking the hit and not returning it. By loving our enemy, we break the cycle of hate. By refusing retribution, we rob Satan of a double victory.

Recall the words of Dr. Martin Luther King:

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. Hate multiplies hate, violence multiplies violence, and toughness multiplies toughness in a descending spiral of destruction….The chain reaction of evil – hate begetting hate, wars producing more wars – must be broken, or we shall be plunged into the dark abyss of annihilation (From Strength to Love, 1963).

Christ, living in us, wants to break the cycle.

The Necessity of Grace – Recall as well a point made in last Sunday’s reflection that these antitheses are pictures of the transformed human person. Jesus is describing here what happens to a person in whom He has begun to live through the Holy Spirit. As such, the verses that follow are a description before they are a prescription. Jesus is not merely saying, “Stop being so thin-skinned, so easily offended, and so retaliatory. Stop hating people.” If that were the case we could easily be discouraged by these commands, or merely write them off as some impossible ideal. No, the Lord is doing something far greater than just giving us rules. He is describing what will happen to us more and more as His grace transforms us.

With this in mind, let’s look at the particulars in three sections.

I. Regarding Retaliation – The first of the antitheses reads:

You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, offer no resistance to one who is evil. When someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other one to him as well. If anyone wants to go to law with you over your tunic, hand him your cloak as well. Should anyone press you into service for one mile, go with him for two miles. Give to the one who asks of you, and do not turn your back on one who wants to borrow.

Behind this text is the gift from the Lord of a generous heart. Ps 118:32 says, In the ways of your precepts I run O Lord for you have enlarged my heart. It takes a large heart not to retaliate, to go the extra mile, to give alms. The transformed mind and heart that Jesus gives us is like this: it is a large heart, able to endure personal slights and attacks, able to refuse retaliation, and able to let go of personal possessions in pursuit of a higher goal. This is the essential vision of this antithesis.

That said, there are surely many questions that arise out of these sayings of Jesus’. Most of these questions, however, come from seeing the sermon as a legal prescription rather than a descriptive example. Nevertheless, these are important questions.

• What does it mean to offer no resistance to injury?
• Does this mean that there is no place for a criminal justice system?
• Should police forces be banned?
• It there no place for national defense or armed forces?
• Should all punishment be banned?
• Should bad behavior never be rebuked?
• Am I required to let go of anything anyone asks for?
• Do I always have to give away my money to beggars?
• Is it always wise to give someone whatever he asks for?
• Is it wise for me always to agree to help in every task that is asked of me?

To answer some of these questions, we do well to recall that the Lord is speaking to us as individuals. Therefore the state, which has an obligation to protect the innocent from foes within and without, may be required to use force to repel threats. Further, the state has an obligation to secure basic justice and may therefore be required to assign punishment for crimes committed. This has been the most common Catholic understanding of this text.

Pacifists, however, disagree with the traditional approach and see in this antithesis of Jesus’ a prohibition of all restraint of evil through any physical force. This would preclude, for most of them, any use of military force or armed police.

In answer to this, I would point out that Scripture does not condemn military service in any explicit sense, nor does it deny the right of the State to assign punishment. Consider some of the following New Testament references:

• Luke 3:14 – Soldiers also asked him (John the Baptist), “And we, what shall we do?” And he said to them, “Rob no one by violence or by false accusation, and be content with your wages.” Note that John does not tell them to leave the military.
• Roman soldiers often interacted with Jesus—New Testament texts often mention them (Mat 8, 27, Mark 15, Luke 7, 23, Acts 10 inter alia ). In no place are they condemned or is their military service called into question by Jesus.
• In John’s gospel Jesus acknowledges Pilate’s authority (even though he exercises it wrongly). Pilate therefore said to him, “You will not speak to me? Do you not know that I have power to release you and power to crucify you?” Jesus answered him, “You would have no power over me unless it had been given you from above; therefore he who delivered me to you has the greater sin” (Jn 19:11).
• Paul acknowledges the power and right of the state to punish criminals even with capital punishment: Rom13:1ff  Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore he who resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment. For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad. Would you have no fear of him who is in authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive his approval, for he is God’s servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain; he is the servant of God to execute his wrath on the wrongdoer. Therefore one must be subject, not only to avoid God’s wrath but also for the sake of conscience. For the same reason you also pay taxes, for the authorities are ministers of God, attending to this very thing.

Hence the New Testament seems to accept that the state does have punitive powers for the common good.

But don’t miss the main point of Jesus’.  The more likely understanding of this antithesis is that Jesus speaks to us as individuals and testifies that, to the degree that we are transformed, we will not seek to retaliate or avenge personal injuries. Rather, due to our relationship with God the Father we will be content to leave such matters to God. As scripture testifies, Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God; for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord” (Rom 12:19). Further and even more important, to the degree that Jesus lives in us we will simply be less easily offended at all. This is because our sense of our dignity is rooted in him, not in what some mere mortal thinks, says, or does.

Jesus goes on to give four examples of what he means by us becoming less vengeful and retaliatory.

1. When someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other one to him as well. Being struck with the back of the hand was in ancient times (and even now) a sign of disrespect. There is an intended humiliation when one strikes us on the cheek. But take note what Jesus does here! In the ancient world one always struck using the left hand. This meant that being struck on one’s right cheek was to be struck with the inside of the hand. But in turning the other cheek one would then be struck with the outside (i.e., back) of the hand of the striker. This was an even worse indignity in the ancient world! But as a Christian in whom Christ is really living, who can really dishonor me? God is the source of my dignity, and no one can take it from me. By this grace I can let it pass since I have not, in fact, been stripped of my dignity. The world did not give me my dignity and the world cannot take it away. From this perspective Jesus is not offering us merely the grace to endure indignity, but the grace not to suffer or experience indignity at all.

2. If anyone wants to go to law with you over your tunic, hand him your cloak as well. It was forbidden in ancient times to take the tunic of a person in pledge for a loan. Thus Jesus would seem to be using this example as a symbol for our rights. There are some people who are forever standing on their rights. They clutch their privileges and will not let them go even if the common good would require it. They will go to the law rather than suffer any infringement upon their “rights.” The true Christian thinks more of duties than rights, more of responsibilities than privileges. All this “personal honor” stuff is unimportant when Christ lives in us. There are, to be sure, some rights necessary for the completion of our duties or for meeting our basic needs. It is unlikely that Jesus has in mind to forbid this. But as a general rule, Jesus is indicating that we can be freed of obsession over “my rights,” “my dignity,” and also “my stuff.” Increasingly, we can be freed of anger when someone might even think to touch anything that is “mine.” The more we are detached from earthly possessions, the less we get anxious or angry when thesethings are somehow threatened or used without our permission, or when our highly refined and dainty sense of our “rights” are trampled upon.

3. Should anyone press you into service for one mile, go with him for two miles. It was legal for a Roman solider to press a person into service for one mile to carry things. Here too, some might be bent out of shape over such indignities. Jesus offers us a generous heart that will go the extra mile. Jesus came as the servant of all; He came to serve rather than be served. To the degree that he lives in us, we will willingly serve and not feel slighted that someone might have asked us to do something. Neither will we cop the “why me?” attitude that commonly afflicts the ungenerous soul. The key gift here is a generous heart even when others do not always assign us our work fairly or appreciate our efforts sufficiently. This is of little concern for us since we work for God.

4. Give to the one who asks of you, and do not turn your back on one who wants to borrow. Here too, many questions arise related to indiscriminate giving. In some cases it may not be a wise thing to give money simply because someone asks. But don’t miss the main point here. The bottom line is that when Jesus lives in us, we will be more generous. We will give cheerfully and assist others gladly. We will not be bent out of shape that someone has asked us for help. We may not always be able to help, but our generous heart will not begrudge the beggar, and we will remain cheerful and treat him or her with respect.

Here then is a description of a transformation of the mind and heart. We will view things differently. We will not be so easily bent out of shape, retaliatory, or vengeful. We will be more patient, more generous, less grasping, and more giving. This is what happens when we live in a transformative relationship with Jesus.

II. Radical Requirement – to Love one’s enemy:

You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your heavenly Father, for he makes his sun rise on the bad and the good, and causes rain to fall on the just and the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what recompense will you have? Do not the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet your brothers only, what is unusual about that? Do not the pagans do the same?

Here is the acid test, the hallmark of a true Christian: the love of one’s enemy. Note that the Lord links this to being a true child of God. Why? Because God loves everyone and gives gifts of sun and rain to all. If then we are a “chip off the old block,” we will do the same. Anybody can love those who love him or her. But a Christian is called to fulfill the Law and exceed it.

If Christ lives in us then we will love even our enemy. Recall that Jesus loved us even when we hated Him and killed Him.  And Jesus said, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do (Luke 23:34). And further, While we were his enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son (Rom 5:10).

We should be careful not to make love an abstraction. The Lord is talking about a real transformation of our hearts here. Sometimes we say dopey things like, “You don’t have to like everyone but you have to love them.” This turns love into something of an abstraction. God doesn’t just love me, he even likes me. The Lord is talking about a deep love that wills good things for the enemy. And more than willing good things, even works toward them.

We are called to have compassion, understanding, and even affection for those who hate us and will us evil. We may wonder how this can happen in us. How can we have affection for those who hate us? Yet it can be so when Christ lives His life in us. We will good and do good to them who hate us, just as Jesus did.

It is also important not to sentimentalize this love. Jesus loved his enemies (us) but did not coddle us. He spoke the truth to the Scribes and Pharisees of his day, often forcefully and uncompromisingly. We are called to a strong love, one which wants the truth for everyone. Yet this testimony is also given with understanding and true (not false or fake) compassion.

III. Remarkable Recapitulation – Finally the Lord says,

So be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect.

Here is the fundamental summary, the recapitulation: God-like perfection! Nothing less will do. How could there be anything less when Christ lives His life in us? To the degree that He lives in us and the old Adam dies, we become perfect. This is the state of the Saints in Heaven: they have been made perfect. Christ’s work in them is complete. The Greek word here is τέλειός (Teleios) which means complete or perfect. Thus, the emphasis here is on the completion of a work in us more so than mere excellence in performance. Hence Paul writes to the Philippians, And I am sure that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ. (Phil 1:6)

This sentence also serves as an open-ended conclusion to the antitheses. It’s almost as if Jesus says, “These have only been a few examples I have given you. The point is to be perfect, complete in every way, totally transformed in your mind, heart, and behavior.”

And thus we return to the original theme: it ends with me. In these final two antitheses the Lord wants to break the cycle of anger, retribution, and violence. He wants the downward spiral of hatred and vengeance to end with me. When, on account of his grace, I do not retaliate, I break the cycle. When I do not escalate the bitterness or return the spite, when I refuse to allow hate to take possession of me, the cycle ends with me. Only God can do this for me.

But He does do it. I promise you in the Lord Jesus Christ that the Lord can deliver us from anger, wrath, vengefulness, pettiness, and the like. I promise you because He is doing it in me. I do not boast; I am only saying what the Lord has done. For the most part, I have been delivered from my anger, something that was once a major struggle for me. It is not any longer. I did not deliver myself—Jesus did. The promise of the Lord here is true. Only God can do it. He has said it and he will do it—if we let him.

This song says, “I Look to you. After all my strength is gone, in you I can be strong. I look to you!”