Community in Mission

The gospel from Sunday (John 15:1-8) presents us with an important meditation on the difference between love and kindness. Perhaps some further reflections from this gospel are in order today.

There is an unfortunate tendency in our times to reduce love to kindness. Kindness is an aspect of love, but so is rebuke. It is an immature notion of love that reduces it merely to affirming, or that refers to proper correction as a form of “hate.”

We saw in yesterday’s gospel that proper care involves the Lord “pruning” us so that we bear more fruit. But in soft times like these, many would not consider pruning, which is painful, to be proper care. Any reasonable, mature, balanced assessment yields the truth that pruning is necessary and is part of proper care.

Though I am less familiar with grape vines, I know my roses. And while I feed and water them, treat their common diseases, and pull the weeds that seek to choke them, I also prune them—sometimes quite severely. At this time of year, my fall pruning vindicates itself as proper care—the first rosebuds and the luxuriant foliage are in glorious evidence! Through the year I will continue all my care, including pruning, cutting away diseased branches, and shaping the plants. Who of you will question me for what I do to my beautiful roses?

It is no less the case with us that the Lord must prune us. And who would question the Lord for this necessary work? Yet many in our times do question Him and His Body, the Church, for doing just this.

First of all, He does this by proclaiming His Word: You are already pruned because of the word that I spoke to you (Jn 15:3). In this proclamation is a kind of pruning of the intellect; our worldly thinking and priorities are pruned away by the truth of God’s wisdom and His Word, which is like a scalpel or pruning hook.

Indeed, the word of God is living and effective, sharper than any two-edged sword, penetrating even between soul and spirit, joints and marrow, and able to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart. No creature is concealed from him, but everything is naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must render an account (Heb 4:12-13).

The Word of God prunes away our error by shining the light of truth on our foolishness and worldliness; it exposes our sinfulness and silly preoccupations. It lays bare our inordinate self-esteem and all the sinful drives that flow from it: pride, greed, lust, anger, gluttony, envy, and sloth. A steady diet of God’s Word prunes and purifies our mind, reordering it gradually.

Yet for many of us, the Word of God alone (while sufficient in itself) is not enough due to our stubbornness and tendency to rationalize our bad behavior and “stinking thinking.” Too easily we call good or “no big deal” what God calls sin and surround ourselves with teachers and “experts” who tell us what our itching ears want to hear (cf 2 Tim 4:3).

And thus further pruning is needed. Such further pruning can be accomplished in two ways: active and passive purification. Active purifications are things that we undertake ourselves such as fasting or other mortifications. These help to prune away what stunts healthy growth and the fruits of righteousness.

But honestly, none of us will ever really do enough active purification to accomplish what is really needed—not even close. Consider an analogy I have used before: could you perform an appendectomy on yourself? Of course not! First, you could not really see enough to be able do it properly. Second, you would never be able to inflict that much pain on yourself. Such things must be accomplished for us by others.

Therefore, since active purifications are not enough to prune us properly, we must also accept passive purifications. Passive purifications are those things that God does or allows in order to prune us. And frankly some of them are quite painful: serious losses or setbacks, struggles with our health, difficulties in marriage or other vocations, the death of loved ones, the end of relationships, humiliating occurrences, accidents, and so forth. Other passive purifications are less painful, involving minor irritations, disappointments, or discomforts.

And when these occur we cry out in pain. Pruning hurts. But it may well be just what we need. The honest truth is that we human beings are so gifted, talented, and capable that if we didn’t have a few things to keep us humble, we’d be so proud we’d just go to Hell.

So God prunes. And whether we like to admit it or not, it is a form of care. We need these passive purifications; we need the pruning that keeps us bearing the fruit of holiness and righteousness.

In soft times like these, when the application of limits or the use of the word “no” is deemed “unloving” or “hateful,” we who would be Christians and light to the world must become clearer ourselves about the need for pruning. Even in the Church there is a hesitancy to speak of this need or of anything considered “negative” or “challenging.” To all this we can only reply that it is necessary at times for the surgeon to wield the scalpel, the vinedresser to apply the pruning sheers, the Lord to use passive purifications. It is hard and painful at times, but there is no other way given our stubborn and sin-prone souls.

There is also a communal dimension to this that was mentioned in yesterday’s gospel: He takes away every branch in me that does not bear fruit (Jn 15:2). This is not the pruning of a single branch; it is the cutting away of any branches that do not bear fruit and thus sap energy from the others.

In these highly individualistic times it is harder for people to grasp the common good and why it is sometimes necessary for the Lord to wholly remove from His Body (the Church) those who refuse to bear fruit. But the common good really is the answer.

And now back to my roses: one of my rose bushes tends to go wild. In the last two years it has become gnarly, losing its shape. Its roses have lost their wedged-tulip shape and are becoming small and rounded. I have taken to pruning it severely in the hopes of saving it. So far this has yielded limited success. This year, if it does not respond and return from the wild side, I will have to remove it. This is not only due to my preferences; I am concerned that the other bushes will cross-pollinate with it and also lose their dignity and form. One wild rose bush tends to exert its influence on others. Who of you will question me for what I do to protect my roses?

And who of us should protest against God for what He does to keep His vine strong and Heaven pure?

Pruning is needed both to help us bear fruit and to save us. It falls to us, like a faithful remnant, to recover this notion and teach it without apology or embarrassment. God knows what He is doing. He knows what makes for good disciples and perfect souls. It is hard, though, and it’s OK to ask God to be gentle with us. But in the end, may God never do anything less than is necessary to prepare heavenly glories for us.

In this Easter Season, we continue to reflect on how the risen Lord Jesus minsters to us and supplies our needs. Last week we considered him as our shepherd. This week we learn how He is the vine and we the branches on the vine, wholly dependent on Him for everything. As we consider how he cares for us as his disciples, we need to rescue the word “care” from its rather sentimental modern sense. True care does not merely include more pleasant things such as giving food and shelter and other basic needs. Sometimes care involves difficult things necessary to discipline and purify us so that we grow and bear more fruit. Thus the Lord speaks of “pruning” in this passage which, while caring is not often pleasant. But it IS proper care. Thus, lets look at how the Lord cares for us so that we can be true disciples.

The Lord presents us with four basic principles that assist us in being better, more fruitful disciples.

I. The Purpose of Disciples – The text says, I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine grower. He takes away every branch in me that does not bear fruit….Anyone who does not remain in me will be thrown out like a branch and wither; people will gather them and throw them into a fire and they will be burned.

The purpose of a vine is to bear fruit. And what are the fruits that the Father seeks? Surely justice, righteousness, and holiness are chief among them. The Letter to the Galatians speaks of them in this way: But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Gal 5:23). Surely we can add virtues and fruits such as generosity, chastity, mercy, forgiveness, zeal for God and His kingdom, and so forth. These are among the fruits God seeks, and which are the purpose of the vine, His son Jesus, whom He sent to nourish us so that these fruits would come to pass.

And yet there are some branches that, though they take nourishment from the vine, do not bear fruit. And not only do they fail to bear fruit, they often harm the vine by drawing strength away from the fruit-bearing branches.

I know little of grapes, but for many years now I have grown tomatoes. As the tomato plant grows, small shoots emerge from the base of the vine branches. These are usually called “suckers,” since they draw strength away from the main branch where the tomatoes are growing. These suckers should be plucked for the health and vigor of the plant and the best development of the fruit.

God will often do the same. In our modern age, with its stress on individualism, hearing that God cuts off unfruitful branches strikes us as unmerciful and harsh. But God has in mind not just the individual, but the strength and fruitfulness of the whole vine. Failing to bear fruit does not just affect the individual; it affects the whole vine. So God, as a loving vinedresser, cuts away the harmful branches. Your life is not just about you. My life is not just about me. We exist in myriad complex relationships with one another, and God must care for all of them.

Since the purpose of the vine is to bear fruit, God tends the vine with that in mind.

The text goes on to say that severed branches wither and that “people” will gather them and throw them into the fire. If I don’t know who I am and whose I am, if I am no longer rooted in Christ, anyone can name me and carry me off. Yes, without the stability of abiding on the vine, I get “carried away” by worldly things. And thus, I wither and die spiritually; the slightest breeze can blow me about. And like any dried and withered branch, I am good for nothing but to be thrown into a fire. Unless Christ carries me and sustains me, I am carried away by others, who cast me into the fire.

II. The Pruning of Disciples – The text says, and every [branch] that does he prunes so that it bears more fruit. You are already pruned because of the word that I spoke to you.

Most of us who have cared for roses know how important pruning is. Without this careful and necessary cutting, the rose bush grows long and gnarly. It expends its strength more on the branches than on the flowers. Little by little the flowers become smaller and less beautiful; the leaves lose their beauty, shape, and color, becoming smaller and lighter green. Eventually the rose bush looks little better than a weed.

Now I suppose that if a rose bush could talk, it would protest and cry out in pain every November as I descend upon it and cut back its growth to one foot above the ground. But in May, the gorgeous roses in the front yard are a masterpiece and all the pain of November is forgotten.

Pain and pruning are part of the Christian journey; God knows what He is doing. We often do not, and like the roses in November that cry out in pain and protest, we look for answers. And yet no more than I can explain my purpose to the roses (they are only rose bushes, after all), can God explain to us what He is about (we are mere mortals with minds too small to see the whole picture).

But just the same, our November pruning gives way to May glory; God the vinedresser knows what He is doing.

Note, too, that the Lord says that His Word “prunes” us. For if we let the Word enter us uncompromised and unabridged, we read, For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart (Heb 4:12). Yes, God’s Word can humble our pride, cut to the quick our distorted and wrongful thinking, and hold us accountable. It can cut away error and mend the decayed wounds of sin.

But we must allow the Word of God to be what it is. Too many of us seek a filtered and watered-down version of God’s Word. No! Let the undiluted Word go to work, of which Scripture itself says, Is not my word like fire, declares the LORD, and like a hammer that breaks a rock in pieces? (Jer 23:29)

A pruned vine bears abundant fruit. None of us like pruning, but nothing is more necessary.

III. Persistence of Disciples  – The text says, Remain in me, as I remain in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing.

In this short Gospel, the word “remain” occurs seven times. Do you get the point? Remain! The Greek word μείνατε (meinate) is the plural imperative of the verb meno, meaning, “to abide.” To abide means to remain habitually or to stay somewhere. It speaks of stability and persistence.

It is  clear that a branch must always stay attached to the vine or else it is doomed. Absolutely nothing is possible to a branch (except to wither and die) unless it is attached to the vine 24 x 7 x 365. Nothing could be clearer in this analogy than this truth.

And yet it seems very unclear to the average disciple of Jesus, who so easily walks away, finding abiding both tedious and difficult. And then we puzzle as to why our spiritual life is tepid and its fruits lackluster. We can’t have even a mediocre spiritual life apart from Christ; the text says we can’t do anything at all but be scattered.

How do we abide with and in the Lord? Scripture distinguishes four ways. We abide and experience union with the Lord through

1. HIS WORD – If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you will, and it shall be done for you (Jn 15:7).  And again, Anyone who loves me will be true to my word and my Father will love him and we will come to him (Jn 14:22).
2. HOLY COMMUNION –  He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him (Jn 6:56).
3. PRAYER (especially communal prayer) –  For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them (Matt 18:20).
4. KEEPING HIS COMMANDMENTS – Those who keep his commandments abide in him and He in them (1 John 3:22).

Yes, abiding is accomplished through prayer, Scripture, Sacraments, fellowship, and walking uprightly. And this Gospel could not be more clear: abide, abide, abide, abide, abide, abide, abide. Seven times the word is used.

Do you get it? Abide. Persistently abide.

IV. The Produce of Disciples – The text says, If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask for whatever you want and it will be done for you. By this is my Father glorified, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.

Attached to and abiding in the vine, we will produce abundant fruit. Note that this is linked to a kind of fruitfulness in prayer that comes from the Father’s good pleasure.

And why is He pleased to answer our prayers if we abide? Because He can trust us with His blessings. In effect, He can say, “Here is someone who is close to my Son, who habitually remains with Him and abides with Him. Yes, here is someone I can trust with blessings. Here is a wise steward who is in union with my Son.” Scripture speaks often of the correlation between wise stewardship and blessings:

1. (Luke 16:10-11) Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much. So if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches?
2. (Matt 25:21) His master replied, “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!”
3. (Luke 12:48) From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.

You want more? Then use well what you already have. Be someone whom the Father can trust because you stay close and abide with His Son. Be like those who can say, with mother Ruth, Whereever you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay (Ruth 1:16). And be like the man who said to his wife, “If you ever leave me, I’m going with you.”

Abide, abide, abide.

My mother died a little more than ten years ago, quite tragically and suddenly. At first her presence seemed so far away, her soothing voice with its gentle mid-western accent, gone. But then about six months ago, in my heart and deep in my thoughts, I had a sense that suddenly she moved closer to me. Perhaps her purgation was at an end, or perhaps some roadblock in my own heart moved. But there she was, and once again I vividly felt her tender prayers. Thank you, Lord.

With Mother’s Day not far off, the following video showed up in my subscription list from Igniter Media. As the video shows, perfect mothers do not exist—real ones do. And it is the real ones who love and care for us. I learned so much from my mother, even in her struggles. She was my mother, the mother God wonderfully gave me, the mother whose sacrifices I could never number. She was so human and yet so godly, so down-to-earth and practical and yet so heavenly and spiritual. She was not a perfect mother, and I was not a perfect son. But she was perfectly my mother, and I was perfectly her son, in God’s design.

Enjoy this video.

There is a brief interaction between Jesus and certain unbelieving Jews on the Temple Mount which illustrates the rather common human tendency to demand that God be God on our terms, not His. Here is that dialogue:

And Jesus walked about in the temple area on the Portico of Solomon.
So the Jews gathered around him and said to him,
“How long are you going to keep us in suspense?
If you are the Christ, tell us plainly.”
Jesus answered them, “I told you and you do not believe.
The works I do in my Father’s name testify to me.
But you do not believe, because you are not among my sheep (Jn 10:22-25).

Their demand to be told plainly is, in effect, a way of insisting that Jesus be the Christ, the Messiah, on their terms. It is as if they are saying, “OK, Jesus, repeat after me. Say, ‘I am the Messiah. I am the one you have been waiting for.'”

But of course the problem with Jesus saying this is that they would have heard the word “Messiah” on their terms, not His. They would have understood the Messiah and His role with their flawed worldly notions. They expected a Messiah who would ride in on a warhorse, gather an army, defeat and slaughter their Roman oppressors, and reestablish the Kingdom of David in worldly prosperity, power, and glory.

This was “Messiah” on their terms, but not His. Jesus would not be reduced to some military general or political figure. He is God and Lord. He does not fit into our neat little reductions and often foolish distinctions, factions, and parties.

Early on, Jesus, though accepting the title among the apostles discreetly (e.g., Mat 16:16-17), would not let them spread this word (Mat 16:20). This was because of the mistaken notions of Messiah described above. Only at the end, under oath and with the Cross in sight, did Jesus finally accept the title. But even then He did so with distinctions that both elevated the Messiah beyond some earthly kingship (to a heavenly one) and delineated His role as the suffering servant.

Pope Benedict, writing as Joseph Ratzinger, describes Jesus’ public declaration of His role as Messiah as follows:

According to Mark, the high priest’s question is: “Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?” And Jesus answers “I am; and you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of power and coming on the clouds of heaven (Mk 14:62). … The high priest’s question [to] Jesus about his messiahship refers to it in terms of Psalm 2:27 and 110:3 using the expression, “Son of the Blessed”—Son of God. … Jesus then explains more closely, basing himself on Psalm 110:1 and Daniel 7:13, how messiahship and sonship are to be understood … he explains how he wants his mission to be understood. From this we may conclude that Jesus accepted the title Messiah, with all the meanings accruing to it from the tradition, but at the same time he qualified it in a way that could only lead to a guilty verdict [but] He left no room for political or military interpretations. … He claims to sit at the right hand of the power, that is to say, to come from God in the manner of Daniel’s Son of Man, in order to establish God’s definitive Kingdom (Jesus of Nazareth Vol. 2, pp. 180-181).

And therefore Jesus was Messiah, all right, not only in the humble sense of suffering servant, but also in the more glorified sense of the Son of Man described in Daniel. He is God and Lord, judge of the living and the dead, and He will come on the clouds one day and be seen by all for who He really is. Thus, a kind of high Christology  and suffering servant meet in Christ, the true Messiah. He is not high enough for the political glories of this world, yet at the same time He is too high for this world, which would seek to restrain Him in “manageable” glories and roles so that His “handlers” could also benefit from His office.

But Jesus will not be handled or managed by us. He will not do our political bidding, join our parties, or be our candidate. He is too much for us. He bursts our notions and exceeds our expectations. Not only is He outside our box, He is outside our world. He is God on His terms, not ours.

Now this is important, since many in our world today seek to define God on their own terms. In effect, we moderns say, “Be God on my terms,” or “I will believe in you if you conform to my expectations. Tell me plainly, in my terms, if you will be the kind of God I expect and want you to be.” The ecclesial version of this is “When the Catholic Church conforms to my views and expectations I will put faith in her and join, otherwise I won’t.” And thus God and the Church He founded are not to be discovered, they are to be reworked according to modern sensibilities. In terms of God, we used to call this idolatry. In terms of the Church, this is called “designer religion.”

Try for a minute to step back and be appalled at the arrogance of this modern trend. So many in our culture think they have a perfect right to design God rather than to go out and meet Him on His own terms, as revealed in Scripture and the ancient Tradition of the Church. For many today, it is God in the image of man, not man in the image of God.

To the ancients who took this stance Jesus simply said, “You are not my sheep.” Not a good thing to hear from the lips of the Savior! To them He had given the proof of miracles, the testimony of John the Baptist, the voice of the Father in their hearts, and the fulfillment of countless Scriptures. To us today He gives the miracle of a two-thousand-year-old Church and Tradition, the testimony of countless saints, the voice of the Father and the Holy Spirit, and His revealed Word, tested time and time again and found to be true and reliable.

To those who are not His sheep, no explanation is possible. To those who are, no explanation is necessary. Pray for many massive and sudden conversions. Ask for a miracle to break the arrogance of our times, which dare to say to God, “Be God on my terms or be gone.”

In the Office last week, we read a poignant passage from the Book of Revelation. It reminds us that there are some things that are not for us to know.

Then I saw another mighty angel coming down from heaven. He was robed in a cloud, with a rainbow above his head; his face was like the sun, and his legs were like fiery pillars. He was holding a little scroll, which lay open in his hand. He planted his right foot on the sea and his left foot on the land, and he gave a loud shout like the roar of a lion. When he shouted, the voices of the seven thunders spoke. And when the seven thunders spoke, I was about to write; but I heard a voice from heaven say, “Seal up what the seven thunders have said and do not write it down” (Rev 10:1-4).

A similar passage occurs in the Book of Daniel, where, having had certain things revealed to him, he is told,

But thou, O Daniel, shut up the words and seal the book, even to the time of the end (Dan 12:4).

And to the Apostles, who pined for knowledge of the last things, Jesus said,

It is not for you to know the times or the seasons, which the Father hath put in his own power (Acts 1:7).

In all these texts we are reminded that there are some things, even many things, that are not for us to know. This is a warning against sinful curiosity and a solemn reminder that not all God’s purposes or plans are revealed to us.

Several reasons come to mind for this silence and for the command to seal up the revelation of the seven thunders:

1. It is an instruction against arrogance and sinful curiosity. Usually, especially in our modern setting, people think they have right to know just about anything. The press speaks of the people’s “right to know.” And while this may be true about the affairs of government, it is not true about people’s private lives, and it is surely not true about all the mysteries of God. There are just some things that we have no right to know, that are none of our business. Much of our prying and nosing around is a mere pretext for gossip, and for the opportunity to see others’ failures and faults. It is probably not an exaggeration to say that more than half of what we talk about all day long is none of our business.
2. It is a rebuke of our misuse of knowledge. Sadly, especially in the “information age,” we speak of knowledge as power. We seek to know in order to control, rather than to repent and conform to the truth. We think that we should be able to do anything we know how to do. Even more reason, then, that God should withhold from us the knowledge of many things, seeing as how we have confused knowledge with wisdom, and have used our knowledge as a pretext to abuse power, to kill with nuclear might, and to pervert the glory of human life with “reproductive technology.” Knowledge abused in this way is not wisdom; it is foolishness and is a path to grave evils.
3. It is to spare us from the effects of knowing things we cannot handle. The very fact that the Revelation text above describes this knowledge as “seven thunders” indicates that these hidden utterances are of fearful weightiness. Seven is a number that refers to the fullness of something, so these are loud and devastating thunders. God, in His mercy to us, does not reveal all the fearsome terrors that will come on this sinful world, which cannot endure the glorious and fiery presence of His justice.  Too much for this world are the arrows of His quiver, which are not exhausted. Besides the terrors already foretold in Scripture, the seven thunders may well conceal others that are unutterable and too horrifying for the world to endure, a world that is incapable of enduring His holiness or of standing when He shall appear.

What, then, is to be our stance in light of the many things too great for us to know and which God mercifully conceals from us? We should have the humility of a child, who knows what he does not know but is content that his father knows. One of the psalms says,

O Lord, my heart is not proud
nor haughty my eyes.
I have not gone after things too great
nor marvels beyond me.

Truly I have set my soul
in silence and peace.
Like a weaned child on its mother’s lap,
even so is my soul.

O Israel, hope in the Lord
both now and forever (Psalm 131 in toto).

Yes, like a humble child we should seek to learn, realizing that there are many things that are beyond us, that are too great for us. So we should seek to learn, but in the humility that is the reverence for the truth, a humility that realizes that we are but little children, not lords and masters.

Scripture says, Beyond these created wonders many things lie hid. Only a few of God’s works have we seen (Sirach 43:34).

Thank you, Lord, for what you have taught us and revealed to us. Thank you, too, for what you have mercifully kept hidden and which is too much for us to know. Thank you, Lord. Help us learn and keep us humble, like little children.

The story of St. Paul’s conversion is well known and we read it last week in daily Mass. But there is a detail that I have often pondered which, though speculative, ought not be overlooked. Indeed, even my choice of the words “speculative” and “overlooked” (both of which refer to the eyes) indicate that we ought to give an eye (i.e., a look) to St. Paul’s eyes.

As you probably recall, St. Paul was not just struck down on the road to Damascus, he was blinded as well. The text of Acts 9 says,

Saul got up from the ground,
but when he opened his eyes he could see nothing;
so they led him by the hand and brought him to Damascus.
For three days he was unable to see, and he neither ate nor drank.

Having persecuted the Lord, Paul must now confront the darkness of sin and unbelief. It is as though the Lord wanted nothing to distract him as he pondered his experience, neither the delights of food and drink, nor the delights of the eye. It was a kind of dying and being with Christ for three days in the tomb before he would rise. And like the dead, Paul was unable to eat and was enveloped in the deep darkness of blindness. He could do little during that time but think and pray.

And pray he did, for the Lord said to a mysterious but chosen figure named Ananias,

“Get up and go to the street called Straight
and ask at the house of Judas for a man from Tarsus named Saul.
He is there praying,
and in a vision he has seen a man named Ananias
come in and lay his hands on him,
that he may regain his sight.”

… Ananias went and entered the house;
laying his hands on him, he said,
“Saul, my brother, the Lord has sent me,
Jesus who appeared to you on the way by which you came,
that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.”
Immediately things like scales fell from his eyes
and he regained his sight.
He got up and was baptized,
and when he had eaten, he recovered his strength.

Through Word and Sacrament, Paul’s eyes were healed. Or were they? Surely they were, for in the years that would follow, Paul saw well enough to travel the world speaking of Christ!

But I’m convinced that some vestige of blindness, some physical memory remained in Paul’s eyes for his whole life, something to remind him of his need for mercy and to keep him humbly mindful of how that mercy was extended.

As background, we do well to recall the story of Jacob, who wrestled with God one night. Jacob was strong with God in that great contest, so much so that God would give him a new name, Israel, meaning “he who wrestles or strives with God.” But God also left Jacob with a permanent memory of that nighttime battle.  Scripture says that God knocked out his sciatic muscle (Genesis 32:32), such that Jacob would walk with a limp for the rest of his life, leaning on a staff.  It was a kind of reminder that Jacob was always to lean on the Lord (Heb 11:21).

And so too, perhaps, for St. Paul. For though he prevailed through the three dark days with God, and his eyesight was restored, it would seem there was a weakness in his eyes that remained. Later, St. Paul would speak of an ailment, a mysterious thorn in his flesh (2 Cor 12:7). Three times he begged God to remove it, but the Lord told him to endure it for the sake of humility.

What was it? What was the mysterious physical affliction? I’m convinced it had something to do with his eyes. Paul told the Galatians,

As you know, it was because of an illness that I first preached the gospel to you, and even though my illness was a trial to you, you did not treat me with contempt or scorn. Instead, you welcomed me as if I were an angel of God, as if I were Christ Jesus himself. Where, then, is your blessing of me now? I can testify that, if you could have done so, you would have torn out your eyes and given them to me (Gal 4:13-15).

While some speculation is necessary, it seems that Paul had something to akin to conjunctivitis, also called “pink eye.” It is an affliction that make the eyes fill with pus and become red. It is often contagious, humiliating, and repulsive to others. Indeed it was quite difficult to endure in the era before modern medicine.

But whatever his actual affliction, it seems (if the Galatians text is acknowledged as descriptive) to have involved the eyes. Yes, Paul’s eyes, those eyes that had been healed but perhaps with a reminder left in them of the need for humility and for remembrance of how God saved him.

What is your thorn? What is your limp? What is your conjunctivitis? All of us have things that keep us humble and remind us of our need to lean on God, and to look to Him, not with haughty eyes, but with eyes that are humble, respectful, and grateful.

This song says, “Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen … Nobody knows but Jesus”

The March for Marriage yesterday in Washington, D.C. was successful for numerous reasons. Among them was the turnout: over 10,000 people. This is especially impressive given the date change (the march had been planned for June but was moved to April when the Supreme Court’s schedule for the marriage cases was announced).

Second, the march manifested a diversity that shows that the concerns for traditional marriage are not coming only from older white Catholics and Pentecostals. You can see some pictures from the march here: March for Marriage 2015. Indeed if anything, the march had a distinctly black and brown hue. Though this should not matter, it does matter (at least politically) that a diverse and hard-to-categorize plurality can hold together.

Among the Catholic leaders and speakers present were the Archbishop of Baltimore and Chairman of the U.S. Bishop’s committee on religious freedom, William Lori; the President of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, Joseph Kurtz of Louisville; and the Pope’s Ambassador to the United States, Archbishop Carlo Maria Vigano.

It is encouraging that such prominent Catholic bishops were present and we need to pray for them.  Let us pray that they can courageously endure the difficulties that increasingly beset Catholic clergy who stand up publicly for what the Scriptures and the Catechism teach on matters of sexuality and marriage.

Oral arguments take place in the Supreme Court on Tuesday. A decision is expected to be handed down in June, and it may decide the status of marriage nationally in a way no less sweeping than did the Roe v. Wade decision in the matter of abortion.

With that in mind, I’d like to present highlights from an amicus curiae brief submitted by the USCCB, which defends traditional marriage. Many Catholics have expressed concerns that our clergy are too silent on these matters. But here is a document that clearly states Catholic opposition to redefining marriage, presenting it to the highest court in the land. Here is clarity and firm articulation of our opposition. Please read this, pray, and be willing to defend Church teaching.  It is an uphill journey and court-watchers say that the Court is like to find against us. So read, and pray as you read, and read as you pray. And pray. And did I mention that you should pray? Pray!

The following are my highlights from the amicus brief. The full document can be read here: Amicus Curiae – Obergefell v. Hodges. The numeration and the red and blue summary bullets are mine; the rest (in italics) is taken directly from the brief.

I. We are not bigots and cannot be categorized politically into any facile category. The USCCB advocates and promotes the pastoral teaching of the U.S. Catholic Bishops in such diverse areas of the nation’s life as the free expression of ideas, fair employment and equal opportunity for the underprivileged, protection of the rights of parents and children, the sanctity of life, and the nature of marriage.