My remarks will be brief, since this is not a political blog, and I am not a political prognosticator. The American people and process have spoken. But a few remarks based on the election results, things I think of as undeniable facts for the Church, though you are free to offer any rebuttals.
1. The strained relationship between the Catholic Church in the Democratic party will continue and the strain will likely grow. The reasons for this are that the Democratic Party is increasingly aligning itself with positions that are in direct conflict with Catholic teaching. More of this in the following points.
2. Largely unrestricted abortion will continue unabated, as will funding for organizations such as Planned Parenthood, the chief provider of abortion in this country. Possible Supreme Court nominations will also feature pro-choice jurists. Likewise many Circuit and other Federal District Court judges will continue to be appointed who favor largely unrestricted abortion.
3. The homosexual agenda will continue to grow and receive increasing legal recognition and protection. This includes not only gay “marriage” but also, other issues in the Gay agenda such as adoption, and the general insistence that the Gay lifestyle be promoted in schools and other public settings. This will require Church opposition and generally embroil us in many public disputes. This may have continued even with a Romney win, but there will be fewer political hurdles for such agendas and the pace will be quicker.
4. The HHS mandate moves forward, untouched. Our religious liberty is in greater jeopardy. We’ll have to meet the administration in court. And while the legal basis for our grievance seems strong, recent experience in the courts has demonstrated that nothing is certain. Civil disobedience may be in our future.
5. Extreme debt seems likely to pile up. Well this may not be a specific issue the Catholic Church has spoken to, it remains a fact that we spend money we do not have, and this has moral implications. Little change in a very divided Congress, means there will be likely little progress in arresting a runaway debt. This will become an increasing moral problem that the Church will likely have to address at some level. This too draws us into the morass of debates about spending priorities etc. and may divide us as a Church between fiscal conservatives and those who emphasize the Social Doctrine.
Thus, the next years ahead, will likely draw the Church into increasing conflict with the political scene in general, and the Democratic Party specifically.
And while it is not the instinct to the Church to be drawn into one side of the political debate, moral issues are increasingly demanding from us an unambiguous stance, one which draws us into increasing conflict with the Democratic Party on issues which we consider non-negotiable. At the same time, issues that we may share with the Democratic Party, are less doctrinal or certain for us. We face difficult days ahead, and difficult decisions about strategy and how to engage a party in power that is increasingly at odds with our most central tenants.
The Central question for us is, How will the Church be able to articulate her positions, increasingly at odds with the platform of the Democratic party and be able to resist the (unfair) charge that we are merely the Republican Party at prayer. There are difficult days ahead for the Church.
Since election day has arrived I have sought to make a few observations about the struggle that many priests face as the increasingly painful political process unfolds in this country every two, and especially every four years.
I say “painful” for several reasons. On the one hand, many of us priests are excoriated if there is even a remote sense by someone in the pew that we are “getting into politics.” Perhaps we speak on the matter of abortion, against the homosexual agenda, or a so-called gay “marriage.” Perhaps we speak of the need to care for the poor, welcome immigrants, or remind the faithful that the Pope and bishops have asked us to oppose the use of the death penalty.
And though each of these are important moral topics on which the Church has either doctrinal or prudential teachings, many will scold the priest, either to his face, or behind his back, and say “Father should stay out of politics.”
It is a true fact that these issues, at least these days, do intersect substantially with the political process. But of themselves, they are moral topics, on which the Church has taught, often for centuries. But since many people are more passionate about their politics than about their faith, when they sense that the preacher has tripped the wrong political switches, they just shut down, and refuse to be taught or even yield an inch of ground.
This is increasingly frustrating for priests who wish to teach clearly a moral topics but realize that they must navigate a very complex minefield, full of tripwires of hypersensitivities and thinly veiled hostility and cynicism. Sadly, many priests take cover by speaking only in vague abstractions and generalities. Necessary teaching is not given out of fear of offending, and/or an egocentric need by the priest to be liked.
A second set of problems revolve around those who seek to bait priests, to actually draw them in to the political arena. Many ask aloud, “Why doesn’t Father make it clear that we can’t vote for candidate X?…Why are our priests not more courageous Party Y’s political platform?….Why doesn’t Father just make it clear that no loyal Catholic can belong to Political Party Z?”
And here as well is another kind of mine field, for neither party wholly lines up with Catholic teaching, across the board. Further, when priests move from issues to parties or candidates, it seems that a clear line has been crossed. While the laity are free to cross such lines, and encouraged to be active in political process, clergy instinctively know that to choose sides or candidates automatically alienates them from substantial numbers of Catholics and Americans whom they seek to influence, and reach with the Gospel message.
And once again, we simply confront the hard reality that many are more passionate about their politics than about faith, and would refuse to even listen to a priest who clearly belonged to the wrong party, or supported the wrong candidate. They would simply shut down and refuse to listen to anything the priest had to say whatsoever, no matter how deeply rooted it was in Scripture. As priests, our first goal is to preach the gospel and to not be hindered in this by worldly categories and distinctions, none of which lines up perfectly with the Gospel or the teachings of the Church.
A third area which causes special pain for priests is to strive to serve a Catholic community that is often so severely divided within itself. Politics is very pernicious, and poisonous these days in the ways that it intrudes upon the unity of the faithful, and especially the primacy of the faith.
Catholics should be in agreement with each other over issues of life and death, marriage, and homosexuality. And even if there may be different approaches about how best to care for immigrants, or the poor, Catholics while open to a diversity of solutions, must also grasp more deeply the fundamental principles of Church teaching regarding our obligations to immigrants and to the poor. Catholics should find a unity among each other through the Scriptures and the teachings of the Church, which are quite thorough in all the moral and social issues.
But the current political climate has utterly poisoned the parish environment where these discussions and learning should take place. The pernicious effects of poisonous politics creates hostility where discussions and teaching shut down almost the moment they begin. So while there may be a few parishes that are largely unified, many, even most, are seriously divided.
A priest may speak from the pulpit on the horrific practice of abortion and be written off by many as being simply a Republican. He may speak to the issue of capital punishment, or immigration, and though he read directly from the pages of the Catechism of the Catholic Church, he will be simply dismissed with a wave of the hand is sounding like some sort of liberal Democrat. Let the priest speak against homosexual activity and against so-called gay “marriage” and once again he is consigned by many to the ranks of being some “right-wing, reactionary, hateful, Republican.”
It is all very ugly, and even while some may wish to opine that some teachings have more doctrinal authority than others, what I refer to here is a simple refusal even to any openness to being taught, to being persuaded. There is almost complete resistance even to reluctantly agree, just as a matter of strategy, that it might be good to stand unified with our bishops, even in prudential matters. No, it would seem that politics generally rules the day, it drives the discussion, it trumps the faith at every turn.
It is an increasingly difficult and painful landscape for priests to navigate. It is also quite difficult to see any hope for improvement in the near future.
It is of course a problem that is bigger than the Church alone. The synthesis between the Judeo-Christian faith and Western culture has broken down in the last 50 years. This breakdown is intersected with politics.
And while it is true that the Democrat party seems increasingly to be aligning itself with the forces of secularism, and opposing the teachings of historical Christianity, it hardly seems wise at this moment for the Church to wholly abandon any attempt to continue to influence all political parties and movements. Slamming doors, and wholly cutting ties is not generally the instinct of the Church. It also remains a fact that many Catholics, including churchgoing Catholics, remain strongly attached to the Democratic Party, for historical and local reasons. The Church cannot, as a good mother, simply say to some of her children, “No longer darken my door.” Admittedly though, it is an increasingly strained relationship.
Perhaps the best the Church can do in a time like this, perhaps the best that the priests and pastors can do, is to insist, yes even to beg that all the Catholic faithful will use the faith as their starting point. Yes, the faith! Not their politics, not just what they heard some dopey actor say recently, not what they heard in a popular song that has a pretty melody. No, the starting point, the main influence must be the sure, undiluted waters of the Gospel, and the teachings of the faith. And this should be the case no matter what tensions are introduced into a person’s political leanings.
Let the faith be first! Let the Lord have the first word, indeed the last word as well. Faith must be the starting point of how we think on every issue. Would that every Catholic would bring the faith into the political process and make it a dynamic force, rather than to try and bring the political process into the Church, and insist that we make foolish compromises to the clearly revealed truth of the Gospels. Our holy faith comes first. It is the light by which we see and judge everything else. No earthly prince or earthly philosophy should ever be able to overrule the teachings of our Lord in our mind and heart. Faith comes first.
Perhaps we do well to conclude the words of St. Paul to the Philippians:
Complete my joy by being of the same mind, with the same love, united in heart, thinking one thing. (Phil 2:2-3)
There is perhaps a tendency for some of us today to feel discouraged over the state of the world, and the Church. It may surprise us, that there have been times in the Church and in Western culture when things were possibly worse. The exact mix of troubles may have been different, but troubles, deep troubles they still were.
I have spent some of today, Sunday, November 4, meditating on the life of my patron saint, St. Charles Borromeo. Today is his feast day, and thus mine as well. And the times in which he lived were not so different from today. And the leadership he exemplified is also what is needed today. I pray that in some small way, I may be like him.
He was born in 1538. These were turbulent times for the Church which was in the midst of perhaps her greatest crisis. Martin Luther had begun his revolt some 15 years earlier when, in 1522, he published his “95 Theses.” In the aftermath of the Protestant revolt, some 12 million Europeans, a large number for those days, left the Church. More would follow in successive waves.
The medieval Church was breaking up and suffering schism. Indeed, the whole medieval synthesis of Christendom was in turmoil, hopelessly intertwined with politics and intrigue, both within the Church and outside.
Indeed, the clergy especially, were in great crisis and in tremendous need of reform. It was an era of absentee bishops and clergy. Wealthy European families collected parishes, monasteries, and other “benefices” more as a kind of “stock portfolio” rather than out of any spiritual love or interest. It was common that these benefices were given to the sons of these families, who all although ordained a priests, seldom served as such, and farmed out the pastoral duties of their many parishes and even dioceses, to often poorly trained, priests. Knowledge of Latin, Scripture, indeed of the Lord himself, was notably absent in many of them of these clergy for hire. Preaching was poor, the moral life of the clergy was degraded and the faithful had little leadership.
It is no wonder that Luther and other so-called reformers were so easily able, in this climate, to attract large numbers of the laity, who were not only poorly served, but also poorly catechized.
Trent – Recognizing how critical the problem of the revolts among Luther and others was, and recognizing her own need for internal reform, the Church had summoned the Council of Trent, which met sporadically between 1545 and 1563.
Into this period of crisis for both Europe and the Church, St. Charles Borromeo was born and raised. He was born of a noble family in Milan, the third of six children. His parents were notably pious and well-known for their care for the poor. Their sober and religious demeanor goes a long way to explain the piety and appetite for reform that St. Charles would later develop.
Reform Starts at home – All that said, the Borromeo family, being wealthy and prominent were well woven in to the difficulties and problems of the late medieval Church, themselves owning large numbers of ecclesiastical benefices. At a very young age Charles Borromeo was given, outright by his uncle, Givlio Borromeo, a large and wealthy Benedictine Abbey. At the tender age of 12 years of age, Charles Borromeo found himself to be the “abbot” of a large monastery. Of course, he was not even an ordained priest, and this fact, coupled with his age, shows the serious abuses that were common in time.
Despite this, St. Charles showed already some inclination for reform by indicating that his income from the Abbey should be only enough to support his education, and that the large and ample remainder should be given to the poor. Further, despite his young age, he promoted reform at the monastery by insisting on a return to a purer monastic environment.
At age 16 he was sent to Pavia to study Canon Law. And though he found his studies difficult, he was noted again for his piety, his refusal to give way to the frivolities of university life, his devotion to the rosary, and to private prayer. Of some significance, is the fact that he dismissed two of his tutors, both of them priests, since he considered them to secular, lax in saying their office, and he objected to the fact that they did not wear clerical attire, but dressed as laymen.
Papal Secretary of State at age 22! Just after completing his studies, Pope Pius IV was elected. The new Pope was Charles uncle, and bestowing benefits upon his family, summoned Charles to Rome to be his Secretary of State. It is perhaps ironic then, that Charles Borromeo was made a Secretary of State, and named a cardinal, all technically under the auspices of the abuse of nepotism, but he would emerge to be one of the leading figures of Church reform.
At age 22 and not even a priest (only a sub-deacon), Charles Borromeo became the Secretary of State at the Vatican, personal assistant to the Pope and was named a cardinal deacon
Perhaps his chief work was, under the direction of Pope Pius IV, to reconvene the Council of Trent which had been suspended due to war. After many months of difficult negotiations and the overcoming of political intrigue, the Council reconvened in 1561. Charles Borromeo serve not only to coordinate the activities of the Council sessions but also engaged in many delicate negotiations as the Pope’s personal representative. He had to work carefully to overcome the differences among certain Council delegates. Things finally wrapped up in December of 1563, just prior to the death of Pope Pius IV.
The importance of the Council of Trent cannot be stressed enough. Its decrees rejuvenated the huge and complex medieval Church, and would serve as a guiding light for the next four centuries. But then, as now, the decrees of a Council are not always welcome, understood or well applied. Thus the work of Borromeo was just beginning.
Setting to work in applying the decrees of the Council, St. Charles lost no time in applying the decrees of the Council, wherever his authority extended. The decrees of the Council having been promulgated, he communicated them to the world’s dioceses.
The next step was for Cardinal Borromeo to have a catechism written and published. He appointed three Dominican theologians to work under his supervision, and the Catechism of the Council of Trent was completed within a year. He then ordered it faithfully translated into the vernacular in order that it be taught by all pastors to the faithful. He also set to work founding seminaries and colleges for the study of the clergy, who were woefully trained at the time.
He was also involved in implementing liturgical norms, and even took a hand at the reform of church music, encouraging the development of sacred polyphony which was emerging at that time. It needed a guiding hand to ensure that did not become too florid and that the sacred text did not become buried in musical flourish and performance. In this matter, he worked closely with Palestrina.
Time to get personal – Having used his Roman position of influence to help implement the Council, he now petitioned Pope Pius V that he might implement the Council in his own life. For, truth be told, that although Pius IV had named him Cardinal Archbishop of Milan, he had been an absentee bishop, remaining in Rome as papal Secretary of State.
This was a common abuse at the time, as already noted. In fact it was rare in the larger cosmopolitan dioceses that the actual Bishop would be present at all. These larger dioceses were usually benefices for rich families whose sons merely collected the monies did not actually serve in any pastoral capacity, as the actual Bishop. Dioceses were thus administered by underlings.
It does not take much to understand that abuses flourished under this system. With no actual resident Bishop, no true shepherd in place, errors went unaddressed, and corruption abounded.
After some months of negotiations and resistance from the new Pope Pius V, St. Charles was finally permitted to go and take up residence in his diocese of Milan. He went with great eagerness to implement the reforms of the Council of Trent. He called several local councils of the church there, set up seminaries for the training of clergy, insisted on clerical reform, and that priests be present in, and ministering to their own parishes. He also established the Confraternity for Christian Doctrine (CCD) for the training of children in the faith, enrolling some 40,000 children in the first few years. He set about visiting every parish in his archdiocese, even the small ones up in the remote Alpine regions.
As is not hard to imagine, not everyone appreciated the reforms he sought to institute. Some of his greatest resistance came from his own clergy and monks, one of whom pulled out a gun, and shot him at Vespers! Luckily, the bullet only grazed him. Yet despite some resistance, St. Charles began many successful reforms in the Church at Milan, reforms centered on the liturgy, the life, training and discipline of the clergy, and the training of the faithful in the ways of faith.
As can be seen, St. Charles lived in difficult times for the Church. Millions had left, and corruption abounded. Many would have despaired in the face of so many deep problems. Indeed, many would wonder if and how the Church could ever recover such losses in numbers and recover her capacity to preach the gospel, and reach the faithful.
And yet, as the example of St. Charles shows, reformers can and do make a lasting difference. Changes for the better may come slowly, but they do come.
Pray for zealous pastors, and reformers like St. Charles Borromeo. For today, it goes without saying, that the Church is in a great crisis. Many millions have left, confusion among the faithful and the clergy abound, many of the faithful are poorly catechized, and there are often grave moral, spiritual and leadership issues among the clergy. It may at times seem bad, very bad.
Yet, things are already better now, inside the Church, than they were in the late 70s and 80s. The reform minded Pope John Paul II, and his successor Pope Benedict XVI, along with many zealous clergy and faithful, have begun a reform that may take many years to fully see. But God has not forsaken his Church and he will both purify her and ensure her ultimate indefectability.
God still has his saints, his reformers, his St. Charles Borromeo’s. Many of them are already known to us, and many more are yet to come. But come they will, for God will reform, establish, and cause to flourish the Church which he loves.
St. Charles Borromeo died in the early hours of November 4th 1584. He had been on his way to visit a parish in the Alps and was stricken with a high fever. He was 46 years old. I have written more of him here: St Charles Borromeo
There was an expression common among the Rabbis of Jesus’ time, and perhaps even now, wherein one Rabbi would ask another a question, but request the answer be given, “Standing on one foot.” Which is a Jewish way of saying, “Be brief in your answer.”
And that sort of expression may be behind the question that is raised today by the scholar of law who asks, “Which is the first of all the commandments?”
And in answering, “standing on foot,” Jesus recites the traditional Jewish Shema:
שְׁמַע יִשְׂרָאֵל יְהוָה אֱלֹהֵינוּ יְהוָה אֶחָד.
Šĕmaʿ Yisĕrāʾel Ădōnāy Ĕlōhênû Ădōnāy eḥād. Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone!
The text Jesus cites from Deuteronomy 6 goes on to say:
You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength. (Deut 6:4-6)
And Jesus adds, also in common Rabbinic tradition: The second is this: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.
Do not miss the point that in discussing the greatest “law,” the discussion centers immediately on the word “love.” The fact is, most of us do miss this connection between law and love.
Truth be told, most of us in Western culture put love and law just about as far apart from each other as any two things can be. For us, law is about police officers and courtrooms, it is about forcing people to do things under threat of some penalty. Love, on the other hand is about doing things willingly, because we want to, rather than because we have to.
But the fact is, as Jesus insists, and the ancient Jewish Shema articulates, love and law are in fact together, and law is an articulation of love.
Consider that a man who really loves his wife does not need a law that says “Do not break her arm, do not verbally or physically abuse her, but rather, support, protect, and encourage her.” Nevertheless, though he may not need the law in writing, he is in fact following the law of love when he observes these and other norms. There is a language of love, there is a law of love, there is an out working of love’s works and fruits. In the end, love does what love is, and love is supportive, enthusiastic, even extravagant in keeping its own norms and laws. Love does what love is.
Thus, when asked about the Law the Lord just says “love.” Yes, love God passionately, with your whole heart, soul, and strength. And as you do this, you will love what he loves, and who he loves, for this is the natural fruit of love. The more I love God, the more I begin to love his laws, his vision, what He values. Yes, all the commandments flow from this simple fact, that I love God. Real love has its roots, it has its laws, its methods, its modes.
Here then, is the whole law, standing on one foot: love God. Let His love permeate you wholly and entirely, and every other commandment will implicitly flow from the this love.
When we love God we stop asking unloving questions like:
Do I have to pray? For how long?
Do I have to go to confession? How often?
Do I have to go to mass? how often? What’s the shortest and most convenient one?
Do I have to read God’s word?
Do I have to make his teachings the priority of my life such that they overrule politics, convential thinking etc.?
Love does not ask questions like these, it already knows the answer, it already lives the answer.
Further, love does not ask:
Do I need to honor and care for my parents?
Do I need to respect lawful authority, and contribute to the common good?
Do I need to respect life from conception to natural death?
Do I need to work to cherish and safeguard the lives of others?
Do I need to live chastely and reverence the gift of sexuality that is so much at the heart of human life, and family?
No, love does not ask questions like these, it already knows the answer, it already wants to live the answer.
Love does not ask whether we must respect each other enough to speak the truth in love, to be men and women of our word. It does not wonder whether it is okay to steal from others or to fail to give them what is justly due. It does not wonder if it should be generous to the poor and needy rather than greedy, or whether to be appreciative and satisfied rather than covetous.
No, love does not need to ask these questions, it does not wonder these things. It knows the answer.
Love is the Law, standing on one foot, and all the rest is commentary.
Now God is merciful and does supply the commentary, in His Scriptures and the vast Tradition of the Church. Praise God for it all.
But honestly, listen to the way most of us talk and think. The saints say, “If God wants it, I want it. If God doesn’t want it, I don’t want it.” Is that the way most of us talk? Hmm…most of us are heard to say, “How come I can’t have it? It’s not so bad…..everybody else is doing it.” Doesn’t really sound like lovers talking does it? My, My, My. Somehow the saints knew the Law of God, and could say it standing on one foot. How about us?
All the commentary is nice, and surely needed. But don’t miss the point: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength, and your neighbor as yourself.
Idyllic – I did not live through the 1950s (born 1961), but it would seem that many of the TV shows presented a kind of idyllic picture of marriage and family life. To be sure there were shows like “The Honeymooners” that showed another side. But shows like “Father Knows Best,” “Ozzie and Harriet,” and “Leave it to Beaver” showed the American Family on its best behavior.
Cynic – Some who lived in that time, like my parents (now deceased) said the shows were very popular, but also bred a kind of cynicism, because unrealistic expectations often cause resentments when they are not met. “Why is my family not like that?….”Why are there all these nuts falling out of my family tree?…..Why can’t my Father be like Ward Cleaver?” And lets not forget the lovely June, doing her housework in high heels, a lovely modest dress and pearls gracing her snowy neck.
I don’t know somehow I think I did get a little of that idealism growing up in the 1960s. We lived in a decent neighborhood in a house not unlike the Cleavers. Mom did often wear a dress and Dad came home round 5pm. I had a flat top crew cut and rode my bike with friends.
But them came the War and dad was off to Vietnam. He came back, a year later and the war had changed him somehow. The military moved us away from Chicago, and things went south by my estimation. By 1969 the cultural revolution and the nihilism of Haight Ashbury was reaching the suburbs, no-fault divorce was sweeping the land and shredding families, and the sexual revolution was devastating innocence.
By High School in the mid 70s the revolution was in high gear and the idealism of the 1950s was replaced by an increasing cynicism of and toward traditional values, including marriage and family, a cynicism that has reached a kind of peak today when more women 25-40 are unmarried than married, and more then 40% of children are raised in single parent families.
There were many songs that singled the shift in the 1970s toward cynicism. One of them was a rather melodic, even gentle song by Carly Simon called “That’s the Way I’ve Always Heard it Should Be.” I don’t suppose I ever paid much attention to the lyrics back in the 1970s (few of us really did). But frankly the words are a bitter dismissal of marriage, dripping with disenchantment and resentment. They speak of darkened homes, distant and out of touch parents, and married friends living phony lives that hid desperation and a loss of self-identity.
Consider the words:
My father sits at night with no lights on
His cigarette glows in the dark.
The living room is still;
I walk by, no remark.
I tiptoe past the master bedroom where
My mother reads her magazines.
I hear her call sweet dreams,
But I forgot how to dream.
But you say it’s time we moved in together
And raised a family of our own, you and me –
Well, that’s the way I’ve always heard it should be:
You want to marry me, we’ll marry.
My friends from college they’re all married now;
They have their houses and their lawns.
They have their silent noons,
Tearful nights, angry dawns.
Their children hate them for the things they’re not;
They hate themselves for what they are-
And yet they drink, they laugh,
Close the wound, hide the scar.
But you say it’s time we moved in together
And raised a family of our own, you and me –
Well, that’s the way I’ve always heard it should be:
You want to marry me, we’ll marry.
You say we can keep our love alive
Babe – all I know is what I see –
The couples cling and claw
And drown in love’s debris.
You say we’ll soar like two birds through the clouds,
But soon you’ll cage me on your shelf –
I’ll never learn to be just me first
By myself.
Well O.K., it’s time we moved in together
And raised a family of our own, you and me –
Well, that’s the way I’ve always heard it should be,
You want to marry me, we’ll marry,
We’ll marry.
Hmm…. Welcome to the modern world. If perhaps the 1950s presented an extremely idealistic picture (at least it called us to come up higher), the reaction of the 1970s and later was the other extreme, an extreme that confirms the worst and says that everything is just phony. It neither inspires nor dreams, it just depresses and calls forth cynicism.
And yet, how many have one extreme or the other about marriage today. Either people have highly idealistic (and unrealistic) notions of what marriage can and should be. Or they are utterly cynical about it.
The idealists often struggle to find the “right” (ideal) person of their dreams. And even if they do, in wanting their marriage to be ideal, when there is any ordeal, they quickly want a new deal. Illusion gives way to disillusionment.
As for the cynics, they just dismiss marriage and live in serial polygamy.
But what if marriage was just like the rest of life…a mixed bag? What if it had some good things about it and some challenges too? What if imperfect marriages and families could still be good families and that imperfection was an acceptable outcome? What if, instead of having the perfect family I was willing to have the family I actually have, realizing that good and bad are often mixed together, and that all are sinners in need of mercy? What if I could accept that my family is imperfect first of all because I am in it? What if, instead of waiting for the perfect or the better I worked with what was reasonably good and tried to make it better?
Well you get the point. I’m not crazy about reality but it’s still the only place you can get a decent meal. And there’s just something about reality that’s a good starting point when it comes to living life. Idealism may have its place, but be careful, for too often it ushers in resentment and cynicism when its promises are not fulfilled.
I’m not sure its fair to say that 1950s TV was completely unrealistic, (I did experience some of what it portrayed), but there were aspects that were perhaps too idealized. The reaction it set in is still visible on the hideous, crass, boorish, broken-down “family” sitcoms of today, that hold up only garbage and dysfunction and tell us that the family in nothing but laughably stupid. It’s Carly Simon’s song on steroids.
Pray for families, pray for marriage. Work also at and for both.
On this Feast of All Souls I want to reflect on Purgatory as the necessary result of a promise. Many people think of purgatory primarily in terms of punishment, but it is also important to think of it in terms of promise, purity and perfection. Some of our deceased brethren are having the promises to them perfected in purgatory. In the month of November we are especially committed to praying for them and know by faith that our prayers are of benefit to them.
What is the Promise which points to Purgatory? Simply stated, Jesus Made the promise in Matt 5:48: You, Therefore, must be perfect as you Heavenly Father is perfect. Now in this promise is an astonishing declaration of our dignity. We are to share in the very nature and perfection of God. This is our dignity: that we are called to reflect and possess the very glory and perfection of God.
St. Catherine of Siena was gifted by the Lord to see a heavenly soul in the state of grace and her account of it is related in her Dialogue. It is here summarized In the Sunday School Teacher’s Explanation of the Baltimore Catechism:
The Soul in the State of Grace– Catherine of Siena was permitted by God to see the beauty of a soul in the state of grace. It was so beautiful that she could not look on it; the brightness of that soul dazzled her. Blessed Raymond, her confessor, asked her to describe to him, as far as she was able, the beauty of the soul she had seen. St. Catherine thought of the sweet light of that morning, and of the beautiful colors of the rainbow, but that soul was far more beautiful. She remembered the dazzling beams of the noonday sun, but the light which beamed from that soul was far brighter. She thought of the pure whiteness of the lily and of the fresh snow, but that is only an earthly whiteness. The soul she had seen was bright with the whiteness of Heaven, such as there is not to be found on earth. ” My father,” she answered. “I cannot find anything in this world that can give you the smallest idea of what I have seen. Oh, if you could but see the beauty of a soul in the state of grace, you would sacrifice your life a thousand times for its salvation. I asked the angel who was with me what had made that soul so beautiful, and he answered me, “It is the image and likeness of God in that soul, and the Divine Grace which made it so beautiful.” [1].
Yes, this is our dignity and final destiny if we are faithful to God.
So, I ask you, “Are you there yet?” God has made you a promise. But what if it is not yet fulfilled and you were to die today without the divine perfection you are promised yet completed? I can only say for myself that, if I were to die today, as far as I know I am not aware of mortal sin. But I am also aware of not being perfect. I am not even close to being humanly perfect, let alone having the perfection of the heavenly Father!
But Jesus made me a promise: You must be perfect as the heavenly Father is perfect. And the last time I checked, Jesus is a promise keeper!. St. Paul says, May God who has begun a good work in you bring it to completion. (Phil 1:6). Hence, If I were to die today, Jesus would need to complete a work that he has begun in me. By God’s grace, I have come a mighty long way. But I have a long way to go. God is very holy and his perfection is beyond imagining.
Yes, there are many things in us that need purging. Sins, and attachments to sin. Worldly clingings, and those rough edges to our personality. Likewise most of us carry with us hurts, regrets, sorrows and disappointments. We cannot take any of this to heaven with us. It wouldn’t be heaven. So the Lord, who is faithful to his promise, will purge all of this from us. The Book of Revelation speaks of Jesus ministering to the dead in that he will wipe every tear from their eyes (Rev 21:4). 1 Corithians 3:13-15 speaks of us as passing through fire in order that our works be tested and that what is good may be purified and what is worldly may be burned away. Job said, But he knows the way that I take; and when he has tested me, I will come forth as pure gold (Job 23:10).
Purgatory has to be – Yes, gold, pure gold, refined, perfect and pure gold. Purgatory has to be if God’s promises are to hold.
Catholic Theology has always taken God seriously on his promise that we would actually beperfect as the Father is perfect. The righteousness is Jesus’ righteousness, but it actually transforms us and changes us completely in the way that St. Catherine describes above. It is a real righteousness, not merely imputed, not merely declared of us by inference. It is not an alien justice, but a personal justice, by the grace of God.
Esse quam videri – Purgatory makes sense because perfection promised us is real: Esse quam videri (To be rather than to seem). We must actually be purged of the last vestiges of imperfection, worldliness, sin and sorrows. And, having been made perfect by the grace of God, we are able to enter heaven of which Scripture says, Nothing impure will ever enter it (Rev 21:27). And again, you have approached Mount Zion and the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and countless angels in festal gathering, and the assembly of the firstborn enrolled in heaven, and God the judge of all, and the souls of the just made perfect (Heb 12:22-23).
How could it be anything less? – Indeed, the souls of the just made perfect. How could it be anything less if Jesus died to accomplish it for us? Purgatory makes sense based on the promise of Jesus and the power of his blood to accomplished complete and total perfection for us. This is our dignity, this is our destiny. Purgatory is about promises not mere punishments. There’s an old Gospel hymn that says, “O Lord I’m running, trying to make a hundred. Ninety-nine and half won’t do!”
That’s right, 99 1/2 won’t do. Nothing less than 100 is possible since we have the promise of Jesus and the wonder working power of the precious blood of the Lamb. For most, if not all of us, purgatory has to be.
Today on the Feast of All Saints and in the month of November we remember, first the Saints in heaven, and then the souls of the faithful departed in purgatory.
Indeed, November and into the early part of Advent is also a part of the Church Calendar when we begin to ponder the last things: death, judgment, heaven and hell. In the Northern hemisphere the days grow shorter and in regions further north, the once green trees and fields shed their lively green, and after the brief golden gown of autumn, a kind of death overtakes the landscape. Life changes, we grow older and one day we will die.
It is fitting at this time that we ponder the passing glory of things and set our gaze on heaven where joys will never end. There is a beautiful prayer in the Roman Missal that captures this disposition:
Deus, qui fidelium mentes unius efficis voluntatis, da populis tuis id amare quod praecipis, id disiderare quod promittis, ut, inter mundanas varietates, ibi nostra fixa sint corda, ubi vera sunt gaudia.
O God, who makes the minds of the faithful to be of one accord, grant to your people to love what you command and to desire what you promise, that, among the changes of this world, our hearts may there be fixed where true joys are. (21st Sunday of the year)
So welcome to November. Summer is past and Winter beckons. Ponder with me that this world is passing. And I have a question to ask you. How do you see death? Do you long to one day depart this life and go home to God? St. Paul wrote to the Philippians of his longing to leave this world and go to God. He was not suicidal, he just wanted to be with God:
Christ will be magnified in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me life is Christ, and death is gain. If I go on living in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. And I do not know which I shall choose. I am caught between the two. I long to depart this life and be with Christ, for that is far better. Yet that I remain in the flesh is more necessary for your benefit. (Phil 1:20-23)
I am struck that, these days, almost no one publically speaks of their longing to depart this life and be with God. I suspect it is because we live very comfortably, at least in the affluent West. Many of the daily hardships with which even our most recent ancestors struggled have been minimized and even eliminated. I suppose that when the struggles of this life are minimized, fewer people consciously long to leave this world and go to heaven. They set their sights and their hopes and prayers on having things HERE be better. “O God, please give me better health, a better marriage, a financial blessing, a promotion at work….” In other words, “Make this world an even better place for me and I’m content to stay here, rather than to long to go there to heaven.”
Longing to be with God was more evident in the older prayers, many of them written just a few generations ago. Consider for example the well known Salve Regina and note (especially in the words I have bolded) the longing to leave this world and be with God:
Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy, our Life, our Sweetness, and our Hope. To Thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve. To Thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears. Turn then, most gracious Advocate, Thine Eyes of Mercy toward us, and after this our exile, show us the Blessed Fruit of thy Womb, Jesus. O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary.
The prayer acknowledges in a very realistic and sober way that life here can be very difficult. Rather than ask for deliverance from all of it, for this world is an exile after all, the prayer simply expresses a longing to come to heaven and be worthy to see Jesus. It is this longing that I sense is somewhat absent in our modern world, even among regular Church goers.
When was the last time you meditated on heaven? When was the last time you heard a sermon on heaven. I understand that we all have a natural fear and aversion to dying. But for a Christian there should be a deepening thirst for God that begins to erode the fear and aversion to death. St. Francis praised God for Sister bodily death which no one can escape(Canticum Fratris Solis). And why not praise God for it? It is what brings us ultimately home.
As for me, I will say it: I long to leave this world and go home and be with God. I am not suicidal and I love what I do here. But I can’t wait to be with God. I don’t mind getting older, because it means I’m closer to home. Another day’s journey and I’m so glad, one day closer to home! In our youth centered culture people (especially women) are encouraged to be anxious about getting older. As for me, when I hit forty, I said, “Hallelujah, I’m halfway home (err…as far as I know)!” Now as I get ready for fifty I rejoice even more. I’m glad to be getting older. God has made me wiser and he is preparing me to meet him. I can’t wait.
A couple of years ago a woman here in the parish walked into a meeting a few minutes late. It was obvious she had been rushing to get there and entered, quite out of breath. No sooner had she entered than she fell headlong on the ground. She had died instantly of a heart attack, was dead before she hit the ground. We rushed to revive her, but to no avail. God had called Wynette unto himself. I remember saying at her funeral, “For us it was one of the worst days of our life, but for Wynette it was the greatest day of her life.” God for whom she longed had drawn her to himself. She had died hurrying to God’s house and you know I had to quote the old spiritual that says, O Lord, I done what you told me to do….unto that morning when the Lord said, “Hurry!”
Even a necessary stopover in Purgatory cannot eclipse the joy of the day we die. There will surely be the suffering that precedes our death. But deep in our heart, if we are a believer, must ring forth the word: “Soon!” An old spiritual says, “Soon I will be done with the troubles of this world; going home to live with God.”
So I ask you again, do you long for heaven? Do you long to depart this world and be with God? You say, “Yes, but first let me raise my kids!” I know, but do you rejoice as the years tick by and goal becomes closer? Do you long to be with God?
I close with the words of Psalm 27:
One thing I ask from the LORD, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the LORD….My heart says of you, “Seek his face!” Your face, LORD, I will seek. Do not hide your face from me.
As you listen to this Spiritual, consider the harsh conditions that the slaves who wrote it endured:
Here in Washington DC, the storm known as “Sandy” has passed. About 8 inches of rain, and winds near 70 mph. But damage, though local and severe for the victims, was not widespread. Further north and east into Jersey and New York City, damage was significant, especially along the shore. I was moved at Governor Christie’s personal sense of loss as he saw some childhood memories swept away.
Life in this world is both precious and passing, fantastic and fragile, resilient and yet easily ravaged. We may have many questions for God, all summarized in one word, “Why?!” God knows, but often is not telling, and if we hear at all, it is only thunder. Meanwhile we discover new life, even in what ends, blessings even in what burdens.
An old hymn says,
When peace like a river attendeth my soul
Or sorrows, like sea billows roll.
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well with my soul, it is well.
Somehow a word from an old Rabbi of the mid 18th Century comes to mind. The Jewish people have well known suffering and this wisdom was spoken one day by the Rabbi to his students:
Everyone must have two pockets, so that he can reach into one or the other, according to his needs. In his right pocket are to be the words, ‘For my sake the world was made.’ And in his left pocket these words: ‘I am earth and ashes.’ (Rabbi Simcha Bunim Bonhart of Peshischa (Przysucha), in Poland. Quoted in Newman’s Hasidic Anthology, p. 167)
Yes, we are precious, but passing, and so is everything in this world. Somehow storms remind of us of this. Every life that was lost, precious. Yet none of us linger here long, and the world as we know it is passing away.
As for man, his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field; the wind blows and he is gone, and his place sees him no more. But from everlasting to everlasting is the Lord’s love is with those who fear him (Psalm 103:15-17)
Hard lessons, the lessons of a storm. Yet blessed and freeing lessons too. As the old Rabbi said, we are precious and all is for us. Yet our truest blessings are not here, and only when this world and we ourselves are tuned to ashes, do we discover our truest and lasting blessings. To gain true life we must first lose this one (cf Luke 9:24).
Yes, hard wisdom, but true and ancient wisdom, the wisdom of a storm.
This song comes from an African American people who have also known collective suffering and speaks of a day when storms will end and says:
Take courage my soul and let us journey on,
though the night is dark and I’m still far from home;
praise be to God, the morning light appears….
The storm is passing over, hallelujah
