Walking in the Footsteps: In Search of Truth

Honoring Christ’s Victory over Death

The church (San Marcello) we walked to today dates back to the late fourth century. Walking through the normally busy streets of Rome in the quiet morning helps us to meditate on what it might have been like for Saint Marcellus as he was taken prisoner shortly after he was named pope. In 308, during the Diocletian Persecution, he was arrested and taken to the imperial stables where he was forced to work until he died soon afterwards. Less then 100 years later, a church was built on this very sight in honor of the holy pope who gave his life rather than reject Christ. Today’s church is therefore a great reminder of Christ’s victory over evil.

Encountering the Cross

In today’s readings at Mass we also encounter young men who were willing to give their lives rather than reject their faith in the true God. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were bound and thrown into a fiery furnace because they refused to worship a false god. Yet Jesus tells us in the Gospel that “the truth will set you free.” Though bound and thrown into the fire, the young men were saved by God and set free. God’s truth is greater than human wickedness. And this truth is encountered in the cross of Jesus Christ. By taking our sinfulness upon himself and nailing it to the cross, Jesus has destroyed sin and death. The truth is that through our baptism, we too have died with Christ and now live with him. God has set us free from our slavery to sin and death and has given us new life in Christ. Let us truly receive this gift He has given to us in our baptism so that as we approach Holy Week, we may let this new life affect every aspect of our lives.

Written by Chris Seith

Photos by Fr. Justin Huber

Freedom for What?

“I’m free, to do what I want, any old time!” insisted the Rolling Stones. Their song reflects how many people today understand freedom: It’s about doing whatever we want, whenever we want to.

Jesus, on the other hand, spoke in today’s gospel of a freedom not to do as we please, but the freedom to do what is pleasing to God; a freedom that involves not just the right to make choices, but the freedom to choose what is right; a freedom not from discipline but dependent on discipline; a freedom that doesn’t give us a license to sin, but a freedom that liberates us from sin; a freedom not just to “be you and me,” but a freedom to become all we were meant to be.

This freedom is rooted in a knowledge of the truth- a truth that is not just a body of knowledge, but a truth who is a person, Jesus Christ our Lord. What Jesus is saying to us today, then, is that if we follow him and live as he taught, we will truly be free- free from sin, free from unhappiness, free to love, free from fear, free to be his brothers and sisters, free to be sons and daughters of God.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/041311.shtml

Photo Credit: tim geers via Creative Commons

Lifted Up; Arms Open Wide

Kevin and Chrissie were two individuals I became acquainted with during my seminary days. Chrissie was Kevin’s mother. At one time, Chrissie had been a nurse and Kevin an aspiring football player. But then Chrissie became an alcoholic, and Kevin soon followed suit. They became homeless, and when not in jail, they would roam the streets, shouting obscenities, getting into fights, and passing out on the sidewalk.

While praying one night, I shook my fist at God, demanding to know why he allowed something so terrible to have happened. But as I shouted, God answered by powerfully impressing upon my mind a vivid image of the cross. I felt chastised but peaceful, because this experience reminded me of an essential truth: To know God, we need to know the cross; without the cross, we can’t really understand God.

Jesus says as much in today’s gospel. People had asked, “Who are you?” To which Jesus replied, “You will know that I AM- you will know that I am God- when I have been lifted up” – lifted up on the cross.

To see Jesus on the cross is the key to understanding who Jesus really is. On the cross, we see humility, obedience, suffering, mercy, forgiveness, glory, kingship, sacrifice, priesthood, death, and victory over death. But most importantly, what we see on the cross is love. Because when Jesus was lifted up, he stretched out his arms, as if to welcome us into the eternal embrace of his love. Truly, to know the cross is to know Jesus. And to know Jesus is to experience his love.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/041211.shtml

Photo Credit: iom_mark via Creative Commons

Walking in the Footsteps: Fidelity

The Witness of Martyrdom

Today’s pilgrimage brings us to the Basilica of San Crisogono in Trastevere.  Situated on the site that is believed to have once been occupied by the oldest Church, built as such, in Rome.  The church honors the memory of Saint Chrysogonus, a Roman military officer who was martyred under Diocletian at the Northern Italian town of Aquileia in 304. His veneration in Rome dates back to at least the Roman Synod of 499, which mentions the church as the “Titulus Chrysogoni.” The church even has a Washington connection: it is administered by the Trinitarian Order, the same order that runs DeMatha high school. Saint Chrysogonus has the added distinction of being venerated by both the Catholic and Orthodox Churches.

Our Call to Fidelity

The theme of martyrdom ties in closely with the readings for the day, which recall two women accused of adultery: Susana, who is aided by the prophet Daniel and the unnamed woman, who is added by Jesus. One is innocent, the other guilty, but both find themselves attacked by those acting out of a lust for power and pleasure.  Their example provides us with lessons to consider as we make our way as pilgrims through the world. First, in the face of guilt, we must renew ourselves by acknowledging our guilt and asking for God’s forgiveness. Second, in the face to unjust attacks on faith and on the Church, we must continue to strive for holiness in witness to the Gospel of Christ, which infuses our lives with purpose and finality.  And finally, in the face of the uncertainties and challenges of life, we must stand undaunted, living with the hope that God’s grace will ultimately overcome and transform them.

Blog and Photos by Fr. Justin Huber

Beware the Halo Effect!

Are you familiar with the “halo effect?” It refers to our tendency to judge a person based on only one characteristic  that we find attractive or impressive. It’s as if we place a halo over their heads; they can do no wrong. We do this especially with those we think are physically attractive. We think: They’re good-looking, so surely they’re also intelligent and talented. The opposite of the halo effect is the “devil effect.” We dislike one thing about a person, or find something about them unappealing, and we write them off entirely.

I think that some of this was going on in today’s Scripture readings. In the story from Daniel, we heard of a terrible rush to judgment. The crowds were absolutely convinced that the two elders were telling the truth, because they were seen as respected and wise religious figures. And that almost got Susanna killed!

Then, in our gospel, certain Pharisees were absolutely sure that Jesus wasn’t who he claimed to be- because he didn’t fit into their pre-conceived notions. And that ultimately did get Jesus killed.

Now, the judgments you and I make don’t generally have life-and-death ramifications. However, the judgments we make do have the potential to deeply hurt others, when we judge them wrongly.

Our Lord challenges us to be aware of this, and proceed with caution. So we don’t rush to judgment; so we don’t just judge by appearances. Jesus said to his Pharisee critics: I do not judge, but when I do judge, my judgment is right, because my Father is with me.

We would do well to follow Jesus’ example- to suspend judgment, until we’re able to judge like him.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/041111.shtml

Photo credit: Ha-Wee via Creative Commons

Walking in the footsteps: Giving Testimony

 

Witness to faith

Saturday morning, pilgrims walked along the Tiber River and crossed it to reach the church of San Nicola in Carcere.  This church stands over the remains of three ancient temples that stood at the edge of the Forum Holitorium, the vegetable market of the ancient city.  Perhaps at some point, part of this temple complex was used as a detention site because the church built over it commemorates St. Nicholas in chains.  St. Nicholas, the bishop of Myra, was brought to Rome under the persecutions of Diocletian only to be released after the Edict of Milan in 313 A.D., which granted Christianity legal status.

Today’s station church corresponds well to our Gospel in which we hear the chief priests and Pharisees ridicule some guards tasked with arresting Jesus.  The guards’ defense is that Jesus spoke with authority – “never before has anyone spoken like this man.”  Yet their reply is met only with ridicule from the authorities, who dismiss the guards and the crowd as naive.

In the face of ridicule

In some ways this passage holds true today.  In the eyes of the broader society and culture some aspects of our faith are ridiculed especially in areas of morality.  Like the guards in the passage we may feel chastised by a society that views our values as antiquated or quaint.  However, through the gift of faith we hold strong to our convictions despite ridicule and, in some parts of the world, even open hostility.  We strive to remain firm in our beliefs because we know their source of origin lies not only in the Church, but ultimately through her in Christ – the one who speaks with authority.  He established the Church to safeguard and pass on his teachings and to expound them as necessary to face the challenges of each new generation.

This Lenten season is marked by practices aimed at converting our hearts so we may deepen our relationship with Christ.  In doing so, may his teaching take deeper root in us too!  May our conviction in Christ and his teachings be enriched so that we might give bold witness to our faith in this age, just as St. Nicholas was willing to bear imprisonment for this faith in his own.

Written by: Francisco Aguirre

Photo by: Fr. Justin Huber

Weep like Jesus; Live with Jesus

Many of you will recall the horrible bombing of the Oklahoma City federal building back in 1995. Until 9/11, this bombing was deadliest act of terrorism ever on US soil. Not far from where that building stood is St. Joseph’s Catholic Church. In its garden now stands a tall, white-robed Jesus. His back is turned to the bombing site, and his shoulder is slumped in grief. With tears streaming down his cheeks, Jesus faces a brick wall with 168 empty spaces- one space for each person who died that terrible day. Inscribed at the base of the statue are two short words: “Jesus weeps.”

This statue, and its inscription, were inspired by today’s gospel. While walking to the tomb of his dear friend Lazarus, Jesus is filled with grief, and he burst into tears. John 11:37 says, very simply, “Jesus wept.” It’s the shortest verse in the Bible, but it’s also one of the most beautiful, because in it, Jesus’ humanity and compassion so clearly shine forth.

Jesus’ tears assure us that it’s okay to be sorrowful when we lose someone we love. Sometimes, well-intentioned people may react to our grief by trying to cheer us up. They’ll say things like, “We’ll, he’s in a much better place now” or “She’s gone to be with the Lord.” We certainly hope and pray that that’s the case. But nevertheless it’s acceptable- indeed, it’s normal and even necessary!- to be sad when a loved one dies. Just think of Jesus. He can appreciate our grief because he’s experienced it himself. When we cry, Jesus cries right alongside us.

In addition to sadness, however, Jesus also experienced anger at the death of his friend. Twice, in the passage we just heard, Jesus was “perturbed and deeply troubled.” A better translation might say that he “shuddered with anger.” Jesus did this first when he saw Mary and her friends weeping. He did it again when he stood before Lazarus’ tomb. Significantly, Jesus reacts the same way on two other occasions in this gospel: Shortly after he entered Jerusalem and knew that the “hour” of his passion was now at hand; and again at the Last Supper, as he foretold Judas’ betrayal. In each of these episodes, Jesus is confronted with death- either his own, or that of Lazarus. Death, evidently, makes Jesus angry.

Jesus’ anger is not uncontrolled rage or self-pity. Instead, it’s righteous indignation against death itself. Jesus is angry because death can take people well before their time, and it leaves an aching void in the lives of those left behind.  But most especially, Jesus is angry at death because it’s a consequence of sin, his greatest enemy of all.

All of this begs a question, however: If Jesus loved Lazarus so much that his death filled him with sorrow and anger, and if death is an enemy to be vanquished, why did Jesus linger for two days when he learned that Lazarus was on the verge of death? At first glace, it might appear that Jesus is heartless or cruel.

In reality, Jesus did what he did to demonstrate a point. As Jesus said to Mary, Lazarus’ sister, “I am glad for you that I was not there, so that you may believe.” Jesus knew that for Mary, and for all of us, death is a great test of faith. Whenever we face our own death or that of a loved one, we come to the realization that when we enter the grave, we do so alone. Anything we may have depended on before- friends, family, finances, reputation, accomplishments, hopes and dreams- are of no use to us when we pass through death’s door. When facing this prospect, even firm believers can be plagued with doubt and fears. It’s then we need to trust that death doesn’t have the final word, and that there truly is a God, who in his love offers us an eternal, heavenly existence beyond our wildest expectations.

However, this is precisely what Jesus wanted to demonstrate by raising Lazarus from the dead. This miracle is a sign anticipating Jesus’ resurrection, but it’s an intentional contrast, too. Lazarus was restored to a normal, earthly existence. He was resuscitated, not resurrected. Jesus brought him back to life only to die again another day. When Lazarus came shambling from his tomb, he was still wrapped in his burial cloths, reminding us that one day he’d have to be wrapped in those cloths again. But when Jesus emerged from his tomb on Easter morning, his burial shroud was left neatly in a corner- a sign that his body had been liberated forever from the bonds of death and corruption. Jesus didn’t die and rise again so that we could live forever in our present state. He came that we might enjoy a new life- a resurrection life!- a life of union with God which begins at baptism, but is perfected only after we have died. “I am the resurrection and the life,” Jesus said. “Whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live. And everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.”

Death brings with it sorrow and anger. Jesus shows us that. But for Christians, death can also bring our faith life to completion, and Jesus shows us that too. During his final days of battling pancreatic cancer, a Cardinal wrote of receiving a hospital visit from an old friend, who was a priest. Seeing the Cardinal in extreme pain and exhausted from radiation therapy, the priest offered words of comfort about his friend’s approaching death. “It’s very simple,” he said. “People of faith, who believe that death is the transition from this life to life eternal, should see it as a friend.”

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/041011.shtml

Photo credits (top to bottom): Termin8er via Creative Commons

Elephant in a Mouse’s Swimsuit

It’s easier for an elephant to fit into a mouse’s swimsuit, a Benedictine abbot once explained, than it is for God to fit into our ideas about him. This is an intentionally funny observation, but it’s certainly true, especially in light of today’s gospel.

The people of Jerusalem thought that they has Jesus all figured out. They were convinced that he wasn’t the Christ, because they were sure they knew where he came from! But Jesus simply shook his head and told them otherwise.

Jesus sometimes has to do the same thing with us. We create idols- caricatures of Jesus- and he has to come along and smash them. Usually, like the mouse’s swimsuit, our image of Jesus is just too small. We tend to emphasize one aspect of his person and minimize the others. For instance, we might count upon his mercy, but forget about his justice. We focus on his power, but overlook his humility. We highlight his humanity, but neglect his divinity. And vice versa.

However, whenever we think we have him in a nutshell, the real Jesus eludes us, just as he slipped away from the angry Jerusalem mob. He knows that we’re always tempted to refashion him in our own image. Thankfully, he never stops trying to re-create us in his.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/040811.shtml

Photo credit: Averain via Creative Commons