Community in Mission

September 12, 2016

The Stages of Sin from St. Bernard of Clairvaux – Fasten Your Seatbelts!

There are times when one reads something from one of the saints and is stunned by the tremendous insight, the piercing analysis, like a surgeon’s scalpel dividing diseased from healthy tissue. Such was my experience recently when reading a passage from St. Bernard of Clairvaux.

In this passage, Bernard analyzes the descent into the increasing darkness of sin experienced by those who refuse to hear the call to repent. I would argue that it applies not just to individuals, but to entire cultures.

Here is the entire passage:

If this cold once penetrates the soul when (as so often happens) the soul is neglectful and the spirit asleep and if no one (God forbid) is there to curb it, then it reaches into the soul’s interior, descends to the depths of the heart and the recesses of the mind, paralyzes the affections, obstructs the paths of counsel, unsteadies the light of judgment, fetters the liberty of the spirit, and soon—as appears to bodies sick with fever—a rigor of the mind takes over: vigor slackens, energies grow languid, repugnance for austerity increases, fear of poverty disquiets, the soul shrivels, grace is withdrawn, time means boredom, reason is lulled to sleep, the spirit is quenched, the fresh fervor wanes away, a fastidious lukewarmness weighs down, brotherly love grows cold, pleasure attracts, security is a trap, old habits return. Can I say more? The law is cheated, justice is rejected, what is right is outlawed, the fear of the Lord is abandoned. Shamelessness finally gets free rein. There comes that rash leap, so dishonorable, so disgraceful, so full of ignominy and confusion; a leap from the heights into the abyss, from the courtyard to the dung heap, from the throne to the sewer, from heaven to the mud, from the cloister to the world, from paradise to hell (Sermon 63.6b on the Song of Songs, “The Fox in the Vineyard”).

Let’s examine the passage in stages. My comments are shown in red. Fasten your seatbelts; turbulence ahead!

If this cold once penetrates the soul when (as so often happens) the soul is neglectful and the spirit asleep – It too easily happens that we are morally or spiritually asleep. This provides a doorway for the world, the flesh, and the devil. Jesus warns, Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak (Matt 26:41). And yet we love to sleep. We also love to anesthetize ourselves with alcohol, drugs, and other diversions. Jesus says in one of the parables that he sowed good seed in his field, But while everyone was sleeping, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away (Matt 13:25). Bad things happen when we are spiritually and morally asleep.

and if no one (God forbid) is there to curb it, then it reaches into the soul’s interior, descends to the depths of the heart and the recesses of the mind – If we are smart, we walk in spiritual company with the Church, close spiritual friends and spiritual leaders within the Church. Even if at times we get sleepy, they can rouse us and warn us. Too many do not do this; if they pray at all they are “lone rangers” and many drift from or discount the voice of the Church and family members. So either we have put ourselves in a position in which there is no one to warn us, or we ignore the warnings we do get. Thus the darkness of sin reaches deeper into our interior.

paralyzes the affections, – The first thing we lose is our desire for spiritual things.

obstructs the paths of counsel – The darkness of sin makes good counsel offered to us seem difficult at first and later on appear downright obnoxious. For example, one may begin to wonder, “Why does it matter whether I go to Mass?” or “Why is looking at a little porn so bad?” or “Why is the Church so ‘uptight’ about things?”

unsteadies the light of judgment – Severed from good counsel, our judgment becomes poor and self-serving.

fetters the liberty of the spirit – The (human) spirit is that part of us that opens us to God, that delights in truth and goodness. But as the flesh begins to dominate, the spirit’s influence is diminished. Its “liberty” to move within us to draw us to the good, true, and beautiful, is hindered.

and soon—as appears to bodies sick with fever—a rigor of the mind takes over: – Our thoughts become distorted; “stinking thinking” begins to seem sensible. St. Paul said of the Gentiles of his time that, having suppressed the truth, they became futile in their thinking, and their senseless minds were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools (Rom 1:21-22).

vigor slackens – What was once virtuous and easy to do now seems hard, and one lacks strength to do good.

energies grow languid – Without the enthusiasm of an alive spirit infused with grace, we begin to lack the energy to do what is good and right. It all seems so much harder, so much effort!

repugnance for austerity increases – As the spirit descends more into a “coma” and the flesh becomes more demanding, attempts to limit pleasure make us angry. It is almost like the situation with gluttony, wherein the stomach is stretched so that more and more food is required to reach satiety.

fear of poverty disquiets – The more we get, the more we have to lose and hence the less secure we feel. The world and the flesh now have in their grip on us through fear. Poverty is freeing, but wealth enslaves. You can’t steal from a man who has nothing to lose; you can’t intimidate him. But a rich man, one rooted in the world, has too much to lose and is thus disquieted by even the most benign of threats. The laborer’s sleep is sweet, whether he has eaten little or much; but the rich man’s wealth will not let him sleep at all (Eccles 4:11).

the soul shrivels – Just as any part of the body that is underused begins to atrophy, so too the soul and its faculties. Increasingly unused, they recede, weaken, and go dormant.

grace is withdrawn – As sin grows more serious and descends into mortal sin, the soul is robbed of graces.

time means boredom – Without spiritual insight, boredom is sure to come. Nothing has real meaning; even the delights of the flesh fail to satisfy. Regarding a soul in this state, Scripture says, All things are wearisome; Man is not able to tell it. The eye is not satisfied with seeing, Nor is the ear filled with hearing. That which has been is that which will be, And that which has been done is that which will be done. So there is nothing new under the sun (Eccles 1:8-9).

reason is lulled to sleep – Foolish thinking is not seen for what it is. One cannot follow the path of simple logic or reason because the flesh feels threatened by it. Sins of the flesh are not the most serious of sins (sins of the spirit are) but they are the most disgraceful because of their capacity to cloud the mind.

the spirit is quenched – The human spirit becomes increasingly dead.

the fresh fervor wanes away – Good days, spiritually speaking, become fewer and fewer.

a fastidious lukewarmness weighs down – One actually begins to cultivate mediocrity, to celebrate it as open-minded, tolerant, and praiseworthy because it avoids “extremes.”

brotherly love grows cold – Sartre famously said, “Hell is other people.” Yes, sin is growing very deep now. The world is closing in on an increasingly petty object: me.

pleasure attracts – It always has, but now inordinately so and with greater and greater power.

security is a trap – In other words, it is a lie. This world is a thief; it takes back everything (no matter what the John Hancock Insurance Co. says). But increasingly, the sinful soul prefers lies to the truth, even knowing deep down that they are lies.

old habits return – Even if one had made progress in virtue, it now erodes.

Can I say more? The law is cheated – In other words, legalism and minimalism become tactics. One uses every trick in the book to take the clearly manifest will of God and parse words to claim it is unclear or does not apply, or to see how it can be observed in the most perfunctory of ways. One will often collect “experts” to tickle one’s ears. Whatever it takes to cheat the law, skirt the edges, and reinterpret the clear norms.

justice is rejected – After cheating the law, the next step down is to reject it outright. The person does not care what God says. He now begins to exalt his imperial, autonomous self. He says “I’ll do what I want and I’ll decide whether it’s right or wrong.”

what is right is outlawed, – Next comes trying to prevent others from proclaiming the truth: call what they say “hate speech,” fine them, arrest them make them answer in court, banish the truth from schools and the public square, demonize them, and criminalize all possible ways of proclaiming the truth.

the fear of the Lord is abandoned – The delusion that one will never face judgment for one’s actions is embraced.

Shamelessness finally gets free rein – Things that ought to (and used to) cause shame are now celebrated. Scripture laments them saying, they not only continue to do these very things but also approve of those who practice them (Rom 1:32). The celebration of sin—even the exaltation of it as virtue—shows that the darkness is now complete. The fall is complete with a crushing thud. St. Bernard describes it this way:

There comes that rash leap, so dishonorable, so disgraceful, so full of ignominy and confusion; a leap from the heights into the abyss, from the courtyard to the dung heap, from the throne to the sewer, from heaven to the mud, from the cloister to the world, from paradise to hell.

Pay attention to what the saints say! I’m sure that some people will dismiss this post as being overly “negative,” but I am more concerned with whether it is true. My own experience as a pastor, teacher, disciple, sinner, and denizen of the world, is that St. Bernard is right on target with his analysis and has given us a kind of diagnostic manual of the progression of the disease known as sin. Read this, ponder it, and consider your own life and the lives of those you love.

Unattended, disease has a way of moving deeper in stages. It becomes a grave matter if we do not soberly assess its presence and power and then apply the medicines of prayer, Scripture, the Sacraments, and fellowship with the Church (cf Acts 2:42).

Are you praying with me? Listen to St. Bernard of Clairvaux!

September 11, 2016September 11, 2016

The Genius of Sacred Music as Heard in Seven Musical “Onomatopoeias”

Do you remember the meaning of the literary term onomatopoeia? In case you’ve forgotten, it’s a word that sounds like the object it describes. Words like oink, meow, wham, sizzle, and my personal favorite: yackety-yak are examples of onomatopoeia.

There are times when music, including sacred music, has an onomatopoetic quality; they sound like what their words are describing. For example, there are songs that describe the crucifixion featuring hammer blows in the background, and songs about the resurrection and ascension that feature notes soaring up the scale.

The best way to understand musical onomatopoeia is to listen to examples of it. So, consider the eight examples of sacred music I present below, which powerfully take up the very sound of what the words are describing.

N.B. The clips below are meant to be played by an embedded player. If your browser does not support such a player, clicking directly on the source hyperlinks to link directly to the MP3 files.

This first clip is from the vespers of Jean-Joseph Cassanéa de Mondonville, a French composer who lived in the 1700s. In his treatment of the text of Psalm 126 Nisi Dominus (unless the Lord build the house) comes the line sicut sagittae in manu potentiae ita filii (like arrows in the hand of the mighty, thus are his children). This is a psalm that praises the gift of children and goes on to declare, “Blessed is the man who has filled his quiver with them!” In this short clip, the text sicut sagittae (like arrows) thrillingly depicts the sound of arrows flying forth. The sound is created both by the strings and the voices. As you listen, marvel at the vocal discipline required of the choir to create this musical onomatopoeia.

Source: Mondonville Grands Motets, Purcell Choir, Orfeo Orchestra

Could you hear the arrows flying forth?

The second clip continues in a kind of battle-like mode. It is from the oratorio “Jepthe” by Giacomo Carissimi, who lived in the 1600s. It recalls the Old Testament story of Jepthe, one the Judges who ruled Israel prior to the monarchy. Jepthe is summoned to battle against the Ammonites and wins a great victory, only to fall into the grave sin of keeping an evil vow that leads to the death of his only daughter. The clip we will hear is from the battle scene in the oratorio. The Latin text is Fugite, fugite, cedite, cedite impii, corruite, et in furore galdii, dissipamini! (Flee, flee, yield, yield, impious ones, be scattered, in the furor of swords we strike you down!) You’ll hear pulsing sounds from the choir and strings, reminiscent of the sound of clashing swords and spears. The rushing sounds of the strings also paint a picture of a fleeing army. The sudden softening of the volume of the choir creates the image of an army that has fled and is now off in the distance.

Source: Carissimi, Oratorios. Chamber Choir And Orchestra Of The Gulbenkian Foundation Of Lisbon/Michel Corboz Dir.

Our third musical onomatopoeia is probably the best known of all the clips presented here. It is from Handel’s Messiah. The text says, “All we like sheep have gone astray.” Sure enough, the music sounds just like what the words describe as the choir creates a meandering sound. One can almost hear and see the sheep going astray.

Source Messiah: London Philharmonic Orchestra & Choir, London Philharmonic Orchestra & Walter Süsskind

And while we are considering animals, our fourth clip is a musical onomatopoeia that imitates the sound of a cock crowing. It is from the motet “Vigilate” by William Byrd. The text of the Motet is from Mark’s Gospel (13:35-37), in which the Lord Jesus, Vigilate, nescitis enim quando dominus domus veniat, sero, an media nocte, an gallicantu, an mane (Watch! For you know not when the lord of the house is coming, whether in the evening, at midnight, at the cock crow or morning). The excerpt is of the choir singing the words an gallicantu (at cock crow). Just see if the music sung doesn’t imitate the very sound of a cock crowing (cock-a-doodle-doo)! It begins in the men’s voices but becomes clearest in the treble voices at the end.

Source: The Tallis Scholars Sing William Byrd, Peter Phillips Dir.

The fifth clip depicts a common technique in Orchestral Masses. At the words crucifixus etiam pro nobis (and He was also crucified for us), the orchestra takes up the sound of hammer blows. The clip is from the Beethoven Mass in C. Listen especially to the deep bass and cello sounds and the hammer blows they bring to mind.

Source Beethoven Mass in C Robert Shaw; Atlanta Symphony Orchestra & Chorus

Our sixth clip moves us from war and suffering to love. It is Palestrina’s treatment of a text from the Song of Songs. The Latin text is Surge amica mea (Arise my beloved). As the word surge (arise) is sung by the various voices, the notes soar high through the scale. (The sopranos reach the highest notes, of course.)

Source: Palestrina: Missa Aeterna Christi Munera, James O’Donnell & Westminster Cathedral Choir.

The seventh clip is from a well-known motet by Thomas Luis Victoria, a Spanish priest, mystic, and composer of the 16th century. The Latin text is O Magnum Mysterium (O Great Mystery). The overall text develops the idea of the paradoxical mystery that animals would witness the birth of Christ and see him rest in their feed box (manger). In the opening bars, hollow fifths evoke the very mystery of which the text speaks. Victoria’s mystical prayer resonates through this wonderful piece.

Source: Missa O Magnum Mysterium. The Choir of Westminster.

Our eighth and final clip bring us to Jericho and another battle scene, this one thrillingly set forth in the arrangement of the African-American spiritual “The Battle Jericho” by Moses Hogan. We hear the percussive intensity of a battle during the siege of the walls and the likely use of arrows and swords. A soprano soloist takes up the sound of the trumpet that the Lord directed to be sounded. And then the choir imitates the sound of falling with their final word, “Down!”

Source: The Spirituals, Mormon Tabernacle Choir.

So, then, here is a brief tour of musical genius evident in the sacred music of the Christian tradition. Perhaps you know of other examples of musical onomatopoeia!

September 10, 2016September 10, 2016

Crazy! A Homily for the 24th Sunday of the Year

The three parables in today’s lengthy Gospel challenge conventional thinking. They describe people doing things that we most likely would not do. All three of them— especially the first two—seem crazy. Who would ever do what the shepherd of the lost sheep does or what the woman with the lost coin does? Probably no one. Likewise, the father in the Prodigal Son parable breaks all the rules of “tough love.” His forgiveness has an almost reckless quality to it. No father in Jesus’ time would ever have tolerated such insolence from his sons. So all three of these parables, on one level, are just plain crazy.

But that is one of the most fundamental points Jesus seems to be making here: The Heavenly Father’s love for us is just plain “crazy.” By that I do not mean that it is irrational, but that it stretches the limits of human thinking.

I also intend no irreverence in my use of the word. Please permit me a bit of hyperbole in trying to describe the astonishing quality of God’s love and mercy. Permit, too, my stepping away from the normal interpretation of these parables. The normal approach is to strive to make sense of the images through certain presumptions. But I wonder if that approach does not miss the truer intent of the Lord here: presenting God’s love for us as mysterious and to some degree unexplainable in human terms. Who really understands unlimited and unconditional love? Who can really grasp the depths of God’s mercy? His grace is “amazing” in that it goes completely beyond our ability to comprehend. It transcends human concepts. Thank God! If God were like us we’d all be in trouble; frankly, we’d all be in Hell.

Let’s look at each parable. (Today’s Gospel is too lengthy to reproduce in this post; you can read the entirety of it here: Luke 15.)

I. The Parable of the Lost Sheep – The Lord speaks of a shepherd who leaves ninety-nine sheep to search for one that is lost. Would a shepherd do this? Probably not! The passage drips with irony, even absurdity. If he knew the lost sheep were nearby, a shepherd might venture over the next hill, but it would be more likely that he would cut his losses and stay with the ninety-nine. Some of us might even consider it irresponsible to leave the ninety-nine to search for the one.

Many scholars and Church Fathers make sense of this parable by appealing to possible shepherding practices of the first century. Some of the Fathers ponder that the ninty-nine are the angels and the Lord left them to pursue us, the one who strayed. Perhaps, but there is really nothing in the parable that suggests that. And while theories abound, I wonder if trying to explain the parable does not miss the point: God’s love is extravagant, personal, and puzzling. In the end, it would seem that God loves us for “no good reason.” He seems to love us even more when we stray. He intensifies His focus on the one who strays. To us this is not only crazy, it is dangerous—possibly enabling. God’s love for us is extravagant beyond what is humanly reasonable or explainable. Don’t try to figure it out. Don’t try to analyze it too much. Just be astonished; be amazed. Yes, this is crazy. That God loves us is crazy, unexplainable.

II. The Parable of the Lost Coin – A woman loses a drachma. It’s a small coin, worth perhaps one day’s wages for an agricultural worker. In modern terms it would equate to less than $100. Not an insignificant amount, but not a huge amount either. She sweeps the floor diligently looking for it. So far, her reaction seems reasonable. I’d probably look around a while for a missing “Benjamin”!

Things get crazy, though, when she finds it. She rejoices to such an extent that she spends most (if not all) of it on a party celebrating the found coin! Crazy!

But that is exactly the point. God doesn’t count the cost. He doesn’t weigh his love for us in terms of if it is “worth it.” Some of the Fathers and commentators try to explain the craziness by suggesting that perhaps the coin had sentimental value as part of her dowry or ceremonial head-dress of ten coins. But here too, the parable does not supply that fact, and over-analyzing and trying to explain or make sense of it may well miss the point.

This woman is crazy because God is “crazy.” His love for us is extravagant beyond what is humanly reasonable or explainable. Don’t try to figure it out. Don’t try to analyze it too much. Just be astonished; be amazed. Yes, this is crazy. That God loves us is crazy, unexplainable.

III. The Parable of the Prodigal Son – A young man, entitled by law to a third of his father’s estate, essentially tells his father to “drop dead.” He wants his inheritance now and the old man isn’t dying fast enough. Incredibly, the father gives it to him!

Crazy! The father is a nobleman (land owner) and could hand his son over for serious punishment for such dishonor. Inheritance in hand, the son leaves his father and goes off to “a distant land,” where he sinks so low that he ends up looking up to pigs. He comes to his senses and returns to his father, daring only to hope to become one of his father’s hired workers.

But then it gets even crazier! The father sees his son from a long way off (meaning that he was looking for him), and then does something a nobleman would never do: he runs. Running was considered beneath the dignity of a nobleman because it would imply that he was either a slave on an errand or a fugitive. Further, in order for a man to run in the ancient world, he first had to “hike up” his long flowing robe. Otherwise, his legs would get tangled up in the garment and he would likely trip and fall. For a nobleman to show his legs was considered an indignity.

Do you get the picture? This nobleman, this father, is debasing himself, humbling himself. He is running and his legs are showing. This is crazy! Do you know what this son has done? Does he deserve this humble love? No! The father is crazy!

Exactly! The heavenly Father is “crazy” too. He actually loves us and humbles Himself for us. He even sent His own Son for us. Do you and I understand what we have done? Do we deserve this? No! It’s crazy!

The second son is also a handful. When he hears of the party being given for his wayward brother he refuses to come in. Again, it would have been unthinkable in the ancient world for a son to refuse to come when summoned by his father. And what does the father do? He comes out and pleads with him to enter!

Again, it’s crazy! It’s unthinkable. No father in the ancient world would ever have permitted his son to speak to him in this way. The son basically calls him a slave-driver who issues orders; he refuses to enter the party that his father is hosting, saying that he’d rather celebrate with his friends than with his father. But (pay attention here) the goal in life is not celebrate with your friends; it is to celebrate with the Father in Heaven.

This father is crazy. He is crazy because God the Father is crazy. Do you know what it means to refuse to do what God says? And yet we do it every time we sin! Our heavenly Father should not have to tolerate this. He is God and we are His creatures. If He wanted to, He could squash us like bugs! But He does not. The father in this parable is almost “dangerously” merciful. Shouldn’t his sons be taught a lesson? Shouldn’t he punish them both for their insolence? All our human thinking kicks in when we hear this parable.

But God is God, not man. There are other Scriptures that speak of God’s punishments. But in the end, none of us get what we really deserve. Jesus’ point in the parable is that God is merciful and His love is crazy; it makes no human sense. His love for us is extravagant beyond what is humanly reasonable or explainable. Don’t try to figure it out. Don’t try to analyze it too much. Just be astonished; be amazed. Yes, this is crazy. That God loves us is crazy, unexplainable.

Crazy!

September 9, 2016September 9, 2016

Lessons Against Fascination with Evil

The video below is a trailer for an upcoming movie. I can’t comment on the full context of the movie (since it hasn’t yet been released), but there are several important messages in the trailer. Allow it to bring forth in you a salutary fear; don’t be fascinated by the cheap parlor tricks of Satan or the Hollywood depiction of them.

Let’s take away four lessons from the trailer.

As the trailer begins, it seems that some scam artists have drawn in gullible people with fake séances and other forms of divination. There are hidden people who speak and make noises in order to convince the “customers” that the dead are actually being contacted.

Lesson One: Never dabble in the occult, even as a ruse or a joke. Those who do so often discover that the spirits they invoke in jest are deadly serious and quite real. Never invoke dark sprits and never seek information from the dead. Evil spirits can and often do masquerade as the souls of the departed; it’s a deception.

As the trailer progresses, things get very ugly. The characters go from lies and ruses (which are sinfully ugly enough) to an encounter with the Father of Lies. One of the characters, noting the abnormal behavior of a young girl asks, “Who are you talking to?” Believe me, you don’t want to know!

Lesson Two: Calling out to the dark world beyond often brings a response, and a very dark one at that.

As the trailer unfolds it seems that things get bad very fast. One of the characters says, “Something is happening that we can’t understand.”

Lesson Three: Satanic powers are masters of deception. All the parlor tricks (levitation, slamming doors, etc.) are meant to incite fear. But the real battleground is the mind and the very subtle deceptions of the Evil One. He subtly takes up the personality of the possessed soul and makes it difficult to understand who is really talking. Indeed, something is happening that is very difficult to understand, except perhaps for a trained exorcist. Even an exorcist enters the battleground with humility and careful discernment, rooted in considering the counsel of others on the team. For this and other reasons, an exorcist should never work alone. He should have an assistant priest and a team to assist him, to observe, to advise him, and to pray.

At one point in the trailer the priest says, “… you’ve opened up a portal.”

Lesson Four: Never open a door to the occult, even in a playful way. Ask not, lest you be answered, seek not lest you be found. Don’t joke or revile evil spirits (cf Jude 1:9). Our only message to them should be this: “In the name of Jesus, the Lord, be gone!”

Keep your eyes on Jesus and the saints. Do not be fascinated by demons or any aspect of darkness.

Movies like this one can incite a salutary fear, but they can also encourage an undue fascination with devilish things. No one who has ever assisted in an exorcism shares any of this fascination at all. Exorcisms are usually lengthy, tedious, and exhausting. There is no dramatic music, and things are never finished in a convenient 90 minutes. It’s an ugly process that weighs heavily on the participants. The demons usually shift quickly from cheap parlor tricks to subtle psychological deception.

If you chose to see this movie, please learn these lessons. Shed any fascination; there is nothing fascinating about evil. It is depressing, dark, and difficult to endure.

Remember that the Lord is more powerful that any satanic force. If you should ever encounter such evil, even through no fault of your own, summon the Lord and repeatedly declare aloud, “Jesus is Lord.” The sacraments, Holy Water, and other sacramentals are also very helpful. Do not panic, just have a salutary fear such that you keep a healthy distance from any dark powers.

Use care when watching this trailer. Let it provide you with information, but don’t let it fascinate you.

September 8, 2016September 8, 2016

Hitherto You Have Asked Nothing in My Name …

There is an old spiritual that says, “King Jesus is a-listenin’ all day long, to hear some sinner pray.” I thought of that line recently during my spiritual reading when, due to a page break, a quote from our Lord was interrupted. Here is the full verse:

Hitherto you have asked nothing in my name; ask and you shall receive, that your joy may be full (John 16:24).

As my dry fingers fumbled to turn the page, I was stuck for a time with only these words: Hitherto you have asked nothing in my name …

Something told me to put down the book to ponder only these words.

“But Lord,” I thought, “I ask all kinds of things of you in my daily prayers. And in every liturgical prayer I always conclude by saying ‘through Christ our Lord.’ Of course I ask things in your name!”

Now of course the Lord has more than certain specific words in mind. It is so easy to recite formulaic prayers in a mindless way. Even private prayers can be said in a half-heartedly, or we can ask for things in a self-serving way.

Hitherto you have asked nothing in my name …

Could it be that the Lord is waiting for something deeper from us, who would be His disciples? Is He really listening all day long just to hear someone pray—really pray?

We moderns, who live in an age when even first names are casually shared with strangers, don’t fully appreciate the meaning of the words “in my name.” To know the Lord’s name and to be permitted to use it is a sign of deep love, respect, and intimacy. In the ancient world, only close friends and family members spoke to one another using first names. Surnames and titles were used between those of less intimacy. To know someone’s name was to know something of his essence, to understand more deeply his inner life, thoughts, and desires.

In sharing his name with Moses, the LORD set forth an astonishing gift and family intimacy with His people. The glory of this gift is framed and protected by the Second Commandment, which forbids us to use God’s Holy Name in any vain, self-serving, dishonest, or empty way. Knowing Jesus’ name commands of us the same kind of reverential love.

Most fully, the name points to the intimate family bond and relationship to the Lord. Asking something in the Lord’s name is no mere formula or incantation. It cannot be reduced to invoking something superstitious or magical, like saying, “Open, Sesame.”

No, to pray in Jesus’ name bespeaks an intimate relationship in which we are deeply immersed in His thoughts, His priorities, and His concern for us and those whom we love. The power of praying in Jesus’ name comes from the fact that we are asking for what He already wants to give us. Praying in Jesus’ name helps to root us in what is truly good and necessary. It means that we no longer merely say, “Bless me, Lord, by giving me what I want.” Rather, we say, “What you want, Lord, is my blessing.”

Hitherto, you have asked nothing in my name …

Help me, Lord, to get to the point where I am more truly and deeply praying in your name, not just reciting it in prayer mindlessly, or as some sort of incantation. Yes, help me so that you are not waiting all day long just to hear this sinner pray!

Some may argue that I am pulling this (half) verse out of context and that Jesus is giving more of a discourse on His divinity and power. I have already admitted my contextual “fumble.” But sometimes, even the fumbled turn of a page is a call to prayer.

Hitherto, you have asked nothing in my name …

Either turn the page, or stop and pray. You decide.

September 7, 2016September 7, 2016

Where Does Our Sense of the Eternal Come from in a Finite World?

A common reading at the funeral Mass is this powerful one from the Book of Ecclesiastes:

I have considered the task that God has appointed for the sons of men to be busied about. He has made everything appropriate to its time, and has put the timeless into their hearts, without man’s ever discovering, from beginning to end, the work which God has done (Eccl 3:10-11).

Somewhere in our hearts is something that the world cannot, and did not, give us. This passage calls it “the timeless.” We also refer to it as eternity or even infinity.

But where did this concept come from? The world is finite. Time here is serial. Things have a beginning, a middle, and an end. We do not experience anything of the timeless. Rather, everything is governed by the steady ticking of the clock. Every verb we use is time-based. Everything is rooted in chronological time. Yet somehow we can grasp the timeless. Yes, we do know it.

The experience of “forever” does not exist in this world, but it is still there our minds and hearts. There is no way to travel through time here in this world. Yet instinctively we know that somehow we can. Science fiction and fantasy novels often feature going back to the past or into the future. The world could not teach us this because we are locked in the present and have never actually travelled in time. Somehow, though, we know that we can do it.

The word “eternity” comes from the Greek word “aeon,” which means “the fullness of time.” It is not just a long time; it is all time: past, present, and future all at once. If you look at a clock you’ll notice that at the center dot, 10 AM, 2 PM, and 6 PM are all the same, even though 10 AM is in the past, 2 PM is now, and 6 PM is in the future. This is aeon, eternity, the fullness of time; this is timelessness.

From whence did we get such a concept? The world cannot give it, for the world does not have it. Nothing can give what it does not have. The world is finite, limited, and time-bound—not timeless. It cannot, therefore, give what is infinite or “timeless.” If we have such a notion it must come from outside time or in the fullness of time, something that contains the full sweep of time all at once. But what is outside time?

September 6, 2016September 6, 2016

On Kindness to Animals and Why It Is an Important Virtue to Cultivate

We live in times when excess is common. There is an old Latin saying Abusus non tollit usum (abuse does not take away the use).

This certainly applies to our treatment of animals. There are some extremists who would equate the dignity of animals with that of humans, failing to understand that human abilities are exceptional and unique due to the capacities of our soul, made in the image of God. Others think it immoral for us to make use of animals as beasts of burden or for necessary food. Still others think that animal companions can replace healthy human relationships (rather than merely augment them).

But whatever the extremes and errors of our time, our animals do have important roles in helping us to become more human. St. Thomas Aquinas set forth the paradoxical notion that animals can help us to be more humane and more human:

Blood was forbidden, both in order to avoid cruelty, that they might abhor the shedding of human blood, as stated above (3, ad 8) … For the same reason they were forbidden to eat animals that had been suffocated or strangled: because the blood of these animals would not be separated from the body: or because this form of death is very painful to the victim; and the Lord wished to withdraw them from cruelty even in regard to irrational animals, so as to be less inclined to be cruel to other men, through being used to be kind to beasts (Summa Theologica, I, IIae, 102, art 6, ad 1).

St. Thomas links the avoidance of excessive cruelty to animals with a greater respect and gentleness for human life. As any psychotherapist or exorcist will tell you, the penchant for cruelty to human beings in sadists and murderers often began (usually in childhood) with cruelty to animals. Further, kindness to animals can help augment kindness to fellow human beings.

While distinct from animals, we share many bodily similarities including sensitivity to pain and suffering. It is a grave defect of character to be insensitive to the suffering of sentient creatures, animal or human. It is a not a far journey from relishing inflicting pain on animals to enjoying doing the same to human beings.

On a more positive note, as we learn to be patient and gentle with animals (especially pets), we can acquire the skills to be patient and gentle with our fellow humans. Admittedly, though, human beings are far more complicated and far less innocent than animals, whose behavior we can easily excuse.

This also helps debunk a demand for equivalence that sometimes emerges. The usual complaint goes something like this: “You’re kinder to your dog than you are to me!” Perhaps on some level this may be true, but our relationship to our pets is different because we reasonably expect less from them. They do not have rational souls and cannot be expected to behave justly or reasonably. But fellow human beings need more correction and must answer to a higher set of standards. Thus we are reasonably harder on them, given the nature of our relationship with them and what is rightly expected of them. Correction of a human person who may one day merit Heaven or Hell is more important for him than it is for an animal, which has no such consequences attached to its actions. So, it makes sense that we are harder on one another and expect more than we do from our animals.

That said, learning to express patience and kindness to an animal does help us to learn the language of kindness and gentleness that can, and often should, be granted to fellow human beings. It helps to awaken and train a tenderness in us.

In the Summa Theologica, St. Thomas also comments on the prohibition of boiling a kid goat in the milk of its mother:

Although the kid that is slain has no perception of the manner in which its flesh is cooked, yet it would seem to savor of heartlessness if the [mother’s] milk, which was intended for the nourishment of her offspring, were served up on the same dish (Summa Theologica I, IIae, 106 art. 5 ad 4).

Although Thomas does state other reasons for the prohibition (e.g., that it is the practice of the pagans), the avoidance of cruelty is stressed.

Pointless cruelty is never a good thing to allow in the human person, even if it is (only) directed toward lower forms of life. It is too easily transferred to the way we regard and treat one another.

Kindness to animals, therefore, is an important virtue to cultivate. We need not embrace excesses such that we fail to make proper use of animals as God intended (to assist us and even to be food for us). Neither must we bestow rights on them that have no corresponding duties or presuppose qualities they do not have. But pointless cruelty to animals that does not recognize their status as sentient beings harms not only them but us as well.

The paradox, then, is this: Our humanity is partially nurtured by our treatment of and experience with animals, both wild and tame. Kindness to animals, even if a virtue subject to excessive and even bizarre applications today, remains an important virtue for us.

The picture at the upper right is of my cat, Jewel (a.k.a. Jewel the Kidda, L’il Girl, and The Queen of Sheba).

September 5, 2016

Fraternal Correction, the Neglected Virtue

In the first reading from today’s Mass (Tuesday of the 23rd Week), St. Paul is practically livid that the Corinthians have not sought to correct and discipline an erring brother who is indulging in illicit sexual union. He orders them to act immediately, lest the brother be lost on the day of judgment.

Today, when things are arguably as bad or worse than in the first century, St. Paul’s anger might will flair at the silence of the Church—the clergy and the laity—in the face of public sin and error.

Indeed, one of the most forgotten virtues and obligations we have is the duty to correct the sinner; it is one of the Spiritual Works of Mercy. In his Summa Theologica, St. Thomas Aquinas describes it as an act of charity

[F]raternal correction properly so called, is directed to the amendment of the sinner. Now to do away with anyone’s evil is the same as to procure his good: and to procure a person’s good is an act of charity, whereby we wish and do our friend well (Summa Theologica II, IIae, 33.1).

The world and the Devil have largely succeeded in shaming Christians from doing this essential work. When we call attention to someone’s sin or wrongdoing, we are said to be “judging” him or her. In a culture in which “tolerance” is one of the only virtues left, to “judge” is to commit a capital offense. “How dare you do such a thing?” the world protests. “Who are you to judge others?”

To be clear, there are some judgments that are forbidden us. For example, we cannot assess that we are better or worse than someone else before God. Neither can we always understand the ultimate culpability or inner intentions of another person as though we were God. Scripture says regarding judgments such as these: Not as man sees does God see, because man sees the appearance but the LORD looks into the heart (1 Sam 16:7). Further, we are instructed that we cannot make the judgment of condemnation. That is to say, we do not have the power or knowledge to condemn someone to Hell. God alone is judge in this sense. The same Scriptures also caution us against being unnecessarily harsh or punitive: Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. Stop judging and you will not be judged. Stop condemning and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven. … For the measure with which you measure will in return be measured out to you (Luke 6:36-38). So in this text from Luke’s Gospel, “to judge” means to condemn or be unmerciful, to be unreasonably harsh.

Another text that is often used by the world to forbid making “judgments” is from the Gospel of Matthew:

Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, “Let me take the speck out of your eye,” when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye (Matt 7:1-5).

But pay careful attention to what this text is actually saying. First, as we have already seen the Luke’s Gospel, the word “judge” here is understood to mean to be unnecessarily harsh and punitive or condemning; the second verse makes this clear. To paraphrase verse two colloquially, “If you lower the boom on others, you will have the boom lowered on you. If you throw the book at others, it will be thrown at you.” Further, the parable that follows does not say that you shouldn’t correct sinners; it says that you should get right with God yourself and then you will see clearly enough to properly correct your brother.

Over and over again, Scripture tells us to correct the sinner. Far from forbidding fraternal correction, the Scriptures command and commend it. Here are some of those texts, along with a little of my own commentary in red:

Jesus said, “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother. But if he does not listen, take one or two others along with you, that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses. If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if he refuses to listen even to the church, let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector. Truly, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven” (Matt 18:15-18). Jesus instructs us to speak to a sinning brother and summon him to repentance. If the matter is serious, and private rebuke does not work, others who are trustworthy should be summoned to the task. Finally, the Church should be informed. If he will not listen even to the Church, then he should be excommunicated (treated as a tax collector or Gentile). Hence in serious matters, excommunication should be considered as a kind of medicine that will inform the sinner of the gravity of the matter. Sadly, this “medicine” is seldom used today, even though Jesus clearly prescribes it (at least in serious matters).
It is actually reported that there is immorality among you, and of a kind that is not found even among pagans; for a man is living with his father’s wife. And you are arrogant! Ought you not rather to mourn? Let him who has done this be removed from among you. For though absent in body I am present in spirit, and as if present, I have already pronounced judgment in the name of the Lord Jesus on the man who has done such a thing. When you are assembled, and my spirit is present, with the power of our Lord Jesus, you are to deliver this man to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, that his spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus. Your boasting is not good. Do you not know that a little leaven leavens the whole lump? Cleanse out the old leaven that you may be a new lump, as you really are unleavened. … I wrote to you in my letter not to associate with immoral men; not at all meaning the immoral of this world, or the greedy and robbers, or idolaters, since then you would need to go out of the world. But rather I wrote to you not to associate with anyone who bears the name of brother if he is guilty of immorality or greed, or is an idolater, reviler, drunkard, or robber not even to eat with such a one. For what have I to do with judging outsiders? Is it not those inside the church whom you are to judge? God judges those outside. “Drive out the wicked person from among you” (1 Cor 5). The Holy Spirit, speaking through Paul, commands that we “judge” the evildoer. In this case the matter is clearly serious (incest). Notice how the text says that the man should be excommunicated (handed over to Satan). Here, too, the purpose is medicinal. It is hoped that Satan will beat him up enough that he will come to his senses and repent before the day of judgment. It is also medicinal in the sense that the community is protected from bad example, scandal, and the presence of evil. The text also requires us to be able to size people up. There are immoral and unrepentant people with whom it is harmful for us to associate. We are instructed to discern this and not to keep friendly company with people who can mislead us or tempt us to sin. This requires a judgment on our part. Yes, some judgements are required of us.
Brethren, if a man is overtaken in any sin, you who are spiritual should recall him in a spirit of gentleness. Look to yourself, lest you too be tempted. Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ (Gal 6:1-2). We are called to note when a person has been overtaken in sin and to correct him, but to do so in a spirit of gentleness. Otherwise, we may sin in the very process of correcting the sinner! Being prideful or unnecessarily harsh in our words is not the way to correct. The instruction is to be humble and gentle, but clear. It also seems that patience is called for, because we must bear the burdens of one another’s sin. We do this in two ways: First, we accept the fact that others have imperfections and faults that trouble us; and second, we bear the obligation to help others know their sin and of repent of it.
My brethren, if any one among you wanders from the truth and someone brings him back, let him know that whoever brings back a sinner from the error of his way will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins (James 5:19). The text is ambiguous as to whose soul is actually saved, but it seems that both the corrected and the corrector are beneficiaries of well-executed fraternal correction.
You shall not hate your brother in your heart: You shall in any case rebuke your neighbor, and not suffer sin upon him (Lev 19:17). This text tells us that refusing to correct a sinning neighbor is actually a form of hatred. Instead, we are instructed to love our neighbors by not wanting sin to overtake them.
If anyone refuses to obey what we say in this letter, note that man, and have nothing to do with him, that he may be ashamed. Do not look on him as an enemy, but warn him as a brother (2 Thess 3:14). Notice again that the medicine of rebuke—even to the point of refusing fellowship (in more serious matters)—is commanded. But note, too, that even a sinner does not lose his dignity; he is still to be regarded as a brother, not an enemy. A similar text says, We instruct you, brethren, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, to shun any brother who walks in a disorderly way and not according to the tradition they received from us (2 Thess 3:6).
Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teach and admonish one another in all wisdom (Col 3:16). To admonish means to warn. If the Word of Christ is rich within us, we will warn when that becomes necessary. A similar text says, All scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work (2 Tim 3:16). Reproof and correction are thus part of what is necessary to equip us for every good work.
And we exhort you, brethren, admonish the unruly, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all (1 Thess 5:14). Fraternal correction is described here as admonishing, encouraging, and helping. We are also exhorted to patience in these works.

There are many more examples, but by now you get the point: Fraternal correction is prescribed and commanded by Scripture. We must resist the shame that the world tries to inflict on us by saying (simplistically) that we are “judging” people. Not all judgment is forbidden; some judgment is commanded. Correction of the sinner is both charitable and virtuous.

It is possible to correct a sinner poorly or even sinfully, but if we are to have any shame at all about proper fraternal correction, it should be that we have so severely failed in our duty to correct. Because of our failure in this regard, the world is much more sinful, coarse, and undisciplined. Too many people today are out-of-control, undisciplined, and even incorrigible. Too many are locked in sin and have never been properly corrected. The world is less pleasant, charitable, and teachable because of this; it is also more sinful and in greater bondage. To fail to correct is to fail in charity and mercy; it is to fail to be virtuous and to fail in calling others to virtue. We are all impoverished by our failure to correct the sinner.

He who winks at a fault causes trouble; but he who frankly reproves promotes peace (Proverbs 10:10).

A path to life is his who heeds admonition; but he who disregards reproof goes go astray (Proverbs 10:17).