Consider the scene. The Bishop has taken his place at the entrance to the sanctuary. He is prepared to confirm some twenty young people. It is a sacred moment; a Sacrament is to be conferred. The parents are in deep prayer thanking the Holy Spirit, who is about to confirm their children for their mission … oops, they’re not!
Actually, they are fumbling with their cell phone cameras. Some are scrambling up the side aisle to “get the shot.” Others are holding their phones up in the air to capture blurry, crooked shots. The tussling continues in the side aisle as parents muscle to get in place for “the shot.” If “the shot” is gotten—success! If not, “Woe is me!” Never mind that a Sacrament has actually been offered and received; the point was “the shot,” the “photo-op.”
Consider another scene. It is First Holy Communion. Again, the children are assembled. This time the parents have been informed that a single parishioner has been engaged to take shots, and are asked if they would they please refrain from amateur photography. This is to little avail. “Who does that deacon think he is telling me to refrain, denying me the shot?” The cell phones still stick up in the air. Even worse, the parish photographer sends quick word via the altar server, “Could Father please slow down a bit in giving the children Communion? It is difficult to get a good shot at the current pace.” After the Mass, the photographer brings two children up with him; could Father perhaps “re-stage” the Communion moment for these two since, in the quick (normal) pace of giving Communion, their shots came out poorly. “You see, the autofocus wasn’t able to keep up. Look how blurry they are, Father.”
It would seem the picture is the point.
I have seen it with tourists as well. I live just up the street from the U.S. Capitol and it is fascinating to watch the tourists go by on the buses. Many of them are so busy taking a picture of the Capitol (a picture they could easily find in a book or on the Internet) that I wonder if they ever see the Capitol with their own eyes.
The picture is the point.
Actually, I would contend that it is NOT the point. Real life and actual experience are the point. Further, in the Liturgy, the worship and praise of God, the experience of His love, and attentiveness to His Word are the point. Cameras, more often than not, cause us to miss the point. We get the shot but miss the experience. Almost a total loss if you ask me.
At weddings in my parish, we speak to the congregation at the start and urge them to put away all cameras. We assure the worried crowd that John and Mary have engaged the services of a capable professional photographer who will be able to record the moment quite well. “What John and Mary could use most from you now are your prayers for them and your expressed gratitude to God, who is the author of this moment.” Yes, we assure them, now is the time for prayer, worship, and joyful awareness of what God is doing.
Most professional photographers are in fact professional and respectful and know how to stay background and not become a part of the ceremony but rather to record it discreetly. It is rare that I have trouble with them. Videographers still have a way to go as a group, but there are many who I would say are indeed professional.
Pastorally it would seem appropriate to accept that photos are important to people and to make reasonable accommodations for them. For major events such as weddings, Confirmations, First Communions, and Easter Vigils, it seems right that we should insist that if photos are desired a professional be hired. This helps keep things discreet and permits family and others to experience the sacred moments more prayerfully. Infant Baptisms are a little more “homespun” and it would seem that the pastor should speak with family members about limiting the number of amateur photographers and be clear about where they should stand.
That said, I have no photos of my own Baptism, First Communion, or Confirmation. And yet somehow, I have managed to survive this (terrible) lack of “the shot” quite well. Frankly, in the days I received these Sacraments, photos of the individual moment were simply not done in the parishes I attended. Some parishes did have provisions for pictures in those days. The photo at the upper right is of Cardinal O’Boyle at St. Cyprian’s in Washington D.C. in 1957. But as for me, though I do have a photo of me when I was on my way to Church for my First Communion, there is no photo of me kneeling at the rail. And I am alive and well. There are surely photos of my ordination. But, I will add, the Basilica and the Archdiocese were very clear as to the parameters. Only two professional photographers were allowed (my uncle was one of them), and the place where they worked was carefully delineated.
Hence pastoral provisions are likely necessary in these “visual times,” to allow some photos. Yet as St. Paul says regarding the Liturgy, But let all things be done decently, and according to order (1 Cor 14:40).
A final reiteration: remember, the photo is not the moment. The moment is the moment, and the experience is the experience. A photo is just a bunch of pixels, lots of 0’s and 1’s recorded by a mindless machine and then printed or displayed by another mindless machine. A picture is no substitute for the actual experience, the actual prayer, the actual worship that can and should take place at every sacred moment and at every sacred liturgy.
If you missed my post from yesterday on the Extraordinary Form of the Mass as a preservative for culture, I would be grateful if you would click over and read it. For some reason readership was very low on the blog yesterday. I also know that Newadvent did not pick it up for some reason. Here is the article: The Extraordinary Form of the Mass and the Evangelization of Culture
Below is some very rare footage from a nuptial mass. It is of my parents’ wedding in May of 1959. What makes it rare is that it is film, not mere pictures, and that it was filmed from the sacristy. My parents told me years ago that they presumed it was filmed by a priest, who alone in those years could get access to the sacristy and other back areas.
We tend to think of evangelization as focused on individuals. But cultures need evangelizing too, perhaps even more so, due to the influence of culture on so many. In her strongest periods the Church has been instrumental in forming the culture and ethos around her. In her weaker periods the Church begins to parrot and reflect culture which, without her leadership, is too easily ephemeral, disedifying, and at worst, debased.
It is hard to contend that we are in a period in which the Church has a key influence on culture. It is rather more the case that popular culture has far too greatly influenced us. Few Catholics get most of their information or influence from God, the Scriptures, or Church teaching. Most are far more aware of and inclined to listen to secular leaders, pop musicians, entertainers, sports figures, and the general cultural din. And this is where they develop even their most critical insights about God, family, sexuality, and many significant moral questions.
Liturgically, too, there are many problems associated with the triumph and primacy of modern and popular culture. Most of our modern trends in liturgy reflect the preferences of our culture, rather than the ability to challenge and influence people. And thus liturgy must be convenient, fast, entertaining, youthful, “relevant,” accessible, completely understandable even by the smallest child, warm, comfortable, respecting of diversity, friendly, etc. To be sure, most of these are not bad qualities. But the emphasis on them to the exclusion of balancing principles (such as mystery and tradition), and the often shallow understanding of those balancing principles, shows that popular culture rather than the Church is really in the driver’s seat.
I’ll be honest, I don’t know where exactly to draw the line. When exactly is a song too secular or in bad taste? When does something go from being understandable to being “dumbed down”? When does emphasizing a warm and welcoming environment become too anthropocentric and unprayerful? When does respecting diversity become a Balkanization and “stove-piping” of communities? When does “youthful, vibrant, and relevant” do harm to what is ancient, enduring, and time-tested?
Somewhere in all this concern for evangelizing the culture, as opposed to being dominated by it, is the quiet and stable presence of the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite, often called the Usus Antiquior (the older use or form), that was in use, largely intact, from antiquity until 1970.
A recent article by Tracey Rowland in Sacred Liturgy (The Proceedings of the International Conference on the Sacred Liturgy 2013) develops the way in which the usus antiquior can act as a kind of salve or preservative in the rapidly changing climate of the post-modern West. I want to offer a few excerpts from the lengthy article and add a few comments of my own (in plain, red text). Rowland writes,
Specifically the usus antiquior may be an antidote to the ruthless attacks on memory and tradition and high culture typical of the culture of modernity. [And it can supply] a coherent, non-fragmented tradition that is open to the transcendent … Participation in this form of the rite does require a deeper intellectual engagement, if one is not to get completely lost, but this form is also more contemplative …
Yes, once one overcomes the notion that he or she must be hearing, seeing, and interacting with every aspect of the Mass, one is drawn to a more quiet contemplation of God and to the fact that many things are being done by God “for me” in a quiet and hidden way. So too in the Mass when the priest acts on my behalf, it is not required that I hear or understand every word. It is often enough that the priest ministers for me and that God both enables and receives this ministry. To pray quietly is thus an acceptable demeanor rather than to (only) relentlessly participate. Thus the usus antiquior emphasized a more contemplative dimension.
In arguing this, one need not take the view that the usus antiquior should be the only form of the Roman Rite … The older and newer forms … Should be mutually enriching. (p. 117, 130)
Yes, at least in our current setting, the “liturgy wars” are a sign that charity, which ought to be preeminent when it comes to Sacred worship, is lacking. But the main point here is that the usus antiquior acts as a kind of preservative of the overall Roman Rite by holding up “old-time religion.” This helps the newer forms from becoming detached from their proper roots and from the more fully Christian culture that preceded our current secularist and ephemeral culture. Theusus antiquior evangelizes current Catholic culture (too easily swayed by modern notions) by showing forth the ancient holy traditions that have sustained us over the centuries.
Yves Congar argued that … the liturgy is truly the holy ark containing sacred tradition at its most intense … He said (in 1963), “We need only step into an old church in order to follow a Mass which has scarcely changed, even in externals, since St. Gregory the Great … Everything has been preserved for us, and we can enter into a heritage which we may easily transmit in our turn, to those coming after us. Ritual … as a victory over devouring time … and a powerful communion in the same reality between men separated by centuries of change … (P. 116)
The charcoal drawing at the upper right, if one does not look closely, could be of a Mass from almost any time period going back to at least the 4th Century. But it is a Mass celebrated just two days ago, by me here in my parish. The actual photograph is just below it. This is a demonstration of what Congar says.
Sadly, shortly after 1963, the “holy ark” was “lost to the Philistines” (cf 1 Sam 5) and has only recently been recovered through a series of indults and the Motu Proprio Summorum Pontificum. We can only pray that the holy ark will now stay among us and grow in the influence and “mutual enrichment” for which Pope Benedict XVI longed.
If modernity is a culture of forced forgetting, postmodernity is more of a fragmented culture of retrieval, the mood is less self-assured and more melancholy and nostalgic. Postmodernity, unlike modernity, is not hostile tradition … but it is hostile to the idea that the human intellect can be used to discern that one tradition is to be preferred over another. Most post-moderns tend to think that one’s preference of tradition is likely to stem from one’s aesthetic sensibility, rather than from intellectual judgment. (p. 129). Amen! If we are not careful, our tolerance of aesthetic preferences too easily becomes just another form of relativism.
In the midst of the decadence and fragmentation and Philistinism, the usus antiquior can continue to be, in the words of Congar, a holy ark, a victory over devouring time, and a means of communication between Catholic separated by centuries of change … It does however need to be disentangled from ghetto culture, either ignorant or suspicious of the genuine reforms of the Council.
Therefore, we must be careful to find a balance that celebrates and insists upon the preservative role of the usus antiquior, but which does not devolve into the smug superiority and dismissiveness that threatens the very influence we seek to foster.
These are just some thoughts about how the usus antiquior can help evangelize culture both within and outside the Church. In this older form of the Mass we step back to what proved right for centuries, to the Mass most saints knew, to what time had tested and retained. This is important in a constantly shifting culture that has lost its moorings.
To have in our midst something that is fixed, stable, proven, and deeply connected to the wisdom of the past is a glorious gift. The newer form of the liturgy also brings gifts (a wider selection of readings, greater access to the vernacular, and some cultural flexibility). But without the stability of the usus antiquior, we see too many risks for wild and inauthentic shifts. And this is just what we have experienced in recent decades.
Both forms are currently the reality for us, but the new without the old is unanchored and drifts too wildly. The usus antiquior, the Extraordinary Form, restores our needed moorings.
What a wondrous and challenging feast we celebrate at Pentecost! A feast like this challenges us, because it puts to the lie a lazy, sleepy, hidden, and tepid Christian life. The Lord Jesus said to the Apostles and still says to us, “I have come to cast a fire on the earth!” (Luke 12:49). This is a feast about fire—about a transformative, refining, and purifying fire that the Lord wants to kindle in us and in this world. It is about a necessary fire, for as the Lord first judged the world by fire, the present heavens and the earth are reserved for the fire. Since it is going to be the fire next time, we need the tongues of Pentecost fire to fall on us to set us on fire and bring us up to the temperature of glory.
The readings today speak to us of the Holy Spirit in three ways: the portraits of the Spirit, the proclamation of the Spirit, and the propagation by the Spirit. Let’s look at all three.
I. The Portraits of the Spirit – The First Reading today (Acts 2:1-11) speaks of the Holy Spirit using two images: rushing wind and tongues of fire. These two images recall Psalm 50, which says, Our God comes, he does not keep silence, before him is a devouring fire, round about him a mighty tempest (Psalm 50:3).
Rushing Wind – Notice how the text from Acts opens: When the time for Pentecost was fulfilled, they were all in one place together. And suddenly there came from the sky a noise like a strong driving wind, and it filled the entire house in which they were.
This text brings us to the very root meaning of the word “Spirit.” For “spirit” refers to “breath,” and we have preserved this meaning in our word “respiration,” which means breathing. So the Spirit of God is the breath of God, the Ruah Adonai (the Spirit, the breath of God).
Genesis 1:2 speaks of this saying, the Spirit of God was moving over the face of the waters. And Genesis 2:7 speaks even more remarkably of something God did only for man, not for the animals: then the LORD God formed man of dust from the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.
So the very Spirit of God was breathed into Adam! But as we know, Adam lost this gift and died spiritually when he sinned.
Thus we see in this passage from Acts an amazing and wonderful resuscitation of the human person, as these first Christians (120 in all) experience the rushing wind of God’s Spirit breathing spiritual life back into them. God does CPR and brings humanity, dead in sin, back to life! The Holy Spirit comes to dwell in us once again as in a temple (cf 1 Cor 3:16). It has been said that Christmas is the feast of God with us, Good Friday is the Feast of God for us, but Pentecost is the Feast of God in us.
Tongues of Fire – The text from Acts says, Then there appeared to them tongues as of fire, which parted and came to rest on each one of them.
The Bible often speaks of God as fire, or in fiery terms. Moses saw God as a burning bush. God led the people out of Egypt through the desert as a pillar of fire. Moses went up onto a fiery Mt. Sinai where God was. Psalm 97 says, The LORD reigns; let the earth rejoice; let the many coastlands be glad! Clouds and thick darkness are round about him; righteousness and justice are the foundation of his throne. Fire goes before him and burns up his adversaries round about. His lightning lights up the world; the earth sees and trembles. The mountains melt like wax before the LORD, before the Lord of all the earth. The heavens proclaim his righteousness; and all the peoples behold his glory (Ps 97:1-6). Scriptures call God a Holy fire, a consuming fire (cf Heb 12:29), and a refining fire (cf Is. 48:10, Jer 9:7, Zec 13:9, Mal 3:3).
And so it is that our God, who is a Holy Fire, comes to dwell in us through His Holy Spirit. And as a Holy Fire, He refines us by burning away our sins and purifying us. As Job once said, But he knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold (Job 23:10).
And He is also preparing us for judgment, for if God is a Holy Fire, then who may endure the day of His coming or of our going to Him? What can endure the presence of Fire Himself? Only that which is already fire. Thus we must be set afire by God’s love.
So in the coming of the Holy Spirit, God sets us on fire to make us a kind of fire. In so doing, He purifies us and prepares us to meet Him, who is a Holy Fire.
II. The Proclamation of the Spirit. – You will notice that the Spirit came upon them like “tongues” of fire. The reference to tongues is no mere accident. For notice how the Holy Spirit moves them to speak and ultimately to witness. The text says: And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in different tongues, as the Spirit enabled them to proclaim. Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven staying in Jerusalem. At this sound, they gathered in a large crowd, but they were confused because each one heard them speaking in his own language. They were astounded, and in amazement they asked, “Are not all these people who are speaking Galileans? Then how does each of us hear them in his native language? We are Parthians, Medes, and Elamites, inhabitants of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the districts of Libya near Cyrene, as well as travelers from Rome, both Jews and converts to Judaism, Cretans and Arabs, yet we hear them speaking in our own tongues of the mighty acts of God.”
So behold how the Holy Spirit moves them to proclaim, not just within the safety of the upper room, but also in holy boldness before the crowds who have gathered.
Notice the transformation! Moments ago these were frightened men who gathered only in secrecy, behind locked doors. They were huddled together in fear. But now they go forth to the crowds and proclaim Christ boldly. They have gone from fear to faith, from cowardice to courage, from terror to testimony!
And how about us? Too many Christians are silent, dominated by fear. Perhaps they fear being called names or not being popular. Perhaps they are anxious about being laughed at, or resisted, or of being asked questions they don’t feel capable of answering. Some Christians are able to gather in the “upper room” of the parish and be active, even be leaders. But once outside the “upper room” they slip into “undercover mode.” They become “secret agent” Christians.
Well the Holy Spirit wants to change that, and to the degree that we have really met Jesus Christ and experienced his Holy Spirit, we are less “able” to keep silent. An old Gospel song says, I thought I wasn’t gonna testify, but I couldn’t keep it to myself, what the Lord has done for me. The Holy Spirit, if authentically received, wants to give us zeal and joy, and burn away our fear so that testifying and witnessing are natural to us.
Note also how the Spirit “translates” for the Apostles, for the crowd before them spoke different languages, yet each heard Peter and the others in his own language. The Spirit, therefore, assists not only us but also those who hear us. My testimony is not dependent only on my own eloquence but also on the grace of the Holy Spirit, who casts out deafness and opens hearts. Every Christian should remember this. Some of our most doubtful encounters with others can still bear great fruit on account of the work of the Holy Spirit, who “translates” for us and overcomes many obstacles that we might think insurmountable.
III. The Propagation by the Spirit – In the Great Commission, the Lord said, Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age (Matt 28:19ff). He also said, as we have noted, I have come to cast a fire on the earth and How I wish the blaze were already ignited (Luke 12:49).
But how is the Lord going to do this?
Perhaps a picture will help. My parish church is dedicated to the Holy Spirit under the title Holy Comforter. Above the high altar is the Latin inscription Spiritus Domini, replevit orbem terrarum (The Spirit of the Lord, filled the orb of the earth). (See photo, above right, of our high altar.)
The walls of my parish Church answer the question. The clerestory walls are painted Spanish Red and upon this great canvas are also painted depictions of the lives of 20 saints, surrounding us like a great cloud of witnesses (cf Heb 12:1). (See also the video below.) And above the head of every saint is a tongue of fire.
THIS is how the Spirit of the Lord fills the earth. It is not “magic fairy dust”; it is in the fiery transformation of every Christian, going forth into the world to bring light and warmth to a dark and cold world. THIS is how the Lord casts fire on earth; THIS is how the Spirit of the Lord fills the orb of the earth: in the lives of saints, and, if you are prepared to accept it, in YOU.
In the end, the Great Commission (Matt 28) is “standing order No. 1.” No matter what else we do, we are supposed to do this. Parishes do not deserve to exist if they do not do this. We as individual Christians are a disgrace, and not worthy of the name, if we fail to win souls for Jesus Christ. The Spirit of the Lord is going to fill the orb of the earth, but only through us. The spread of the Gospel has been placed in your hands—scary, isn’t it?
Beginning two years ago, my own parish, after a year of training, stepped out into our neighborhood and went from door to door as well as into the local park. We announced Jesus Christ and invited people to discover Him in our parish and in the Sacraments. We were in the local park and the market just last week doing “sidewalk evangelization.”
Before we count even a single convert, this is already success, because we are obeying Jesus Christ, who said, simply, “Go!” “Go make disciples.” And, truth be told, we ARE seeing the results in my parish. Our Sunday attendance has grown from about 450 to 520, roughly a 15% increase. We are growing, and our attendance—while average for a downtown city parish—is going in the right direction. God never fails. God is faithful.
Spread the news: it works if you work it, so work it because God is worth it. Go make disciples. Ignore what the pollsters tell you about a declining Church and let the Lord cast a fire on the earth through you! Fires have a way of spreading! Why not start one today? The Spirit of God will not disappoint.
I know this: my parish has a future because we are obeying Jesus Christ; we are making disciples. How about you and yours? If parishes do not obey they do not deserve to exist, and they can expect to close one day no matter how big they may be today. I, in my short 50 years on this planet, have seen it: parishes once big, booming, and (frankly) arrogant are now declining and some are even near closure. It happens to the best if they do not evangelize, if they do not accomplish “Job 1.” The Lord wants to light a fire. Why not become totally fire? Let the Spirit propagate the Church through you. (I am not talking to the person next to you; I am talking to you.)
Happy feast of Pentecost! But don’t forget that the basic image is very challenging, for it means getting out of the “upper room,” opening the doors, and proclaiming Christ to the world. Let the Holy Spirit light a fire in you and then you can’t help but spread light and heat to a cold and dark world.
Let the evangelization of the whole world begin with you.
This video features details from the clerestory (upper window level) of my parish of Holy Comforter here in DC. Notice the tongue of fire above each saint. The paintings show how the Spirit of the Lord fills the orb of the earth (see photo above) through the lives of the saints (this means you, too). It is not magic; it is by grace working in your life, through your gifts and your relationships, that the Lord will reach each soul. The witnesses on the walls of my Church say, “You are the way He will fill the earth and set it on fire.” Let the blaze be ignited in you!
The song says, We are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, looking on, encouraging us to do the will of the Lord. Let us stand worthy, and be faithful to God’s call … We must not grow weary!
Here is another video I put together which has scenes from the Pentecost event and is set to Palestrina’s Dum Complerentur. I like this musical version since it is sung in dance time. The Latin text to the motet is below the video along with its English Translation.
Dum complerentur dies Pentecostes, erant omnes pariter dicentes, alleluia, et subito factus est sonus de coelo, alleluia, tamquam spiritus vehementis, et replevit totam domum, alleluia.
–
When the Day of Pentecost had fully come,
they were all with one accord in one place, saying: alleluia.
And suddenly there came a sound from heaven, alleluia,
as of a rushing mighty wind,
and it filled the whole house
where they were sitting, alleluia.
Some years ago when I was in the seminary, an older priest in a rectory where I stayed had an unusual piece of furniture in his sitting room. He used it like a chest or large travel trunk. He stored books in it. I told him it looked like a coffin. He said it was. “One day I will be buried in that.”
Sure enough, at his funeral some ten years later, I saw that plain pine box that had sat against the wall in his sitting room. What once held the treasure of his books waiting to be read again now held the treasure of his body waiting to rise again.
Coffins, often called caskets today, have become a bit too removed from the old wooden boxes that once sufficed for most. Made of strong steel, with airtight seals and cushioned satin interiors, they seem designed to insulate not only the dead, but also us from the reality that the earth must reclaim our bodies until the great resurrection of all the dead. Add to that the fact that these sealed capsules are then placed in concrete liners (to preserve the level of the round above), and burial really doesn’t seem to be burial anymore. It’s more like storage in an underground basement or cellar. Modern life can be very insular, even in death.
I do not wish to appear insensitive. Burial customs vary from age to age and have various things to recommend them and to critique about them. Death is perhaps the hardest reality we face, not merely our own but also the deaths of those we love.
The beautiful video below shows a man making a traditional wooden coffin. For him it is obviously a very spiritual act, deeply rooted in his Catholic Faith. Such care and thoughtfulness goes into each action of the process!
It might strike you as odd to watch a man build a coffin. But take the time to watch this three-minute video. The coffin maker speaks great wisdom and love as he plies his craft. It is clear this is no mere box; it is a precious and sacred container for the body and a doorway for the soul.
Here are a couple of his quotes that I find especially meaningful:
I never feel like it’s finished. But I guess that’s a fit thing since that’s how we likely feel at the end of our lives too.
I think one of the most important aspects of the coffin is that it can be carried. I think we’re meant to carry each other. Carrying someone you love is very important when we deal with death … to know that we played a part and shouldered our share of the burden … If we make it too easy we deprive ourselves of a chance to get stronger so that we can carry on.
There is a rather humorous aspect of the story of the Tower of Babel in the Book of Genesis. You likely know the basic story, which begins with the men of that early time saying, Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves (Gen 11:4). It was an image of pride, of grandiosity.
The humor is that when the great tower, with its top reaching to the heavens, is finally built, it is actually so puny that God has to come down from Heaven in order to see it! The text says, And the LORD came down to see the city and the tower, which the children of man had built (Gen 11:5).
Now of course God, as omniscient, clearly sees everything, and the humor in the text is not in some primitive notion of God. Rather the humor is for our benefit. In effect it says that our greatest, tallest, most prominent and glorious work—a tower that we saw as reaching Heaven itself—is in fact so small that God has to stoop to “see” it. He has to descend to get even a glimpse of it. What ultimately DOES alarm God is how colossal our pride is, and thus he has to humble us by confusing our language and scattering us about the planet.
I recalled this story as I viewed the video below. It is wonderful footage of Earth, taken from the Space Shuttle. There is audio commentary by a NASA scientist explaining some of the features we are seeing and where on the globe we are looking as the images pass by. The view is truly remarkable. But what is even more remarkable is what we do NOT see: us!
It is an astonishing thing that even though the shuttle is passing over highly populated areas there is no visual evidence that we even exist. No cities or buildings are visible; no planes streak through the skies; even large scale agricultural features seem lacking. There is only one mention of a color difference across the Great Salt Lake, and that is due to a railroad bridge preventing circulation. But the bridge is in no way visible, only its effect.
We think of ourselves as so big, so impressive. And yet even in low Earth orbit, we cannot be seen. It is true that at night our cities light the view, but during the day next to nothing says we are here. Even the magnified picture on my 30″ iMac screen shows no evidence of us below.
And having viewed the video, I think of Psalm 8:
O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens … When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him? Yet, You made him a little lower than the angels and crowned him with glory and honor. You made him ruler over the works of your hands; you put everything under his feet: all flocks and herds, and the beasts of the field, the birds of the air, and the fish of the sea, all that swim the paths of the seas. O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!
Yes, we are so powerful (by God’s gift) and yet so tiny as to be nearly invisible from a short distance into space. Our mighty buildings rise, but they rise on a speck of space dust called Earth, which revolves around a fiery point of light called the Sun. And our huge sun is but one point of light in the Milky Way galaxy of over 100 billion stars. And the Milky Way galaxy, so huge to us as to be nearly incomprehensible, is but one of an estimated 200 billion galaxies.
What is man O Lord that you are mindful of him? Jesus says of us, And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered (Matt 10:30). Yes God, who knows the numbers of the stars and calls them by name, also knows the number of the hairs on each of our heads. Nothing escapes him.
And old preacher’s saying goes, “We serve a God who sits high, yet looks low!” Indeed, never forget how tiny you and I are, yet never cease to marvel that God knit you together in your mother’s womb and sustains every fiber of your being. We cannot even be seen from low Earth orbit, but God, who sees all, looks into our very heart. Do not cease to marvel that, though tiny, you and I are wonderfully, fearfully made (Psalm 139), and He has put all things under our feet.
I write this blog post humbly confessing that I am not an economist or a politician. I am not an expert on the oil industry or on “alternative fuels.” Neither am I an agricultural expert. I write as a priest and a moral theologian to ponder a puzzling trend that I might provocatively title “Burning food for fuel.”
Most notably, this is done in the production of ethanol, which uses corn. Increasingly, the government, likely pressured by certain industries and lobbies, is requiring that 10% of fuels be composed of ethanol.
Of course this requires an enormous amount of corn, which would seem to skew agriculture and the food supply. At a bare minimum it would seem that the price of corn would rise. Corn is a fairly basic staple of the world’s food supply and raising its price would seem to harm the poor especially. Further, as corn becomes more lucrative, it seems likely that more of it would be planted and less of other necessities such as rice, barley, and other grains. This doesn’t seem very good either.
Consider some excerpts from an article (on Oxfam America’s website) that I read recently:
Ethanol has been touted as the solution to our energy and climate crises. [But] Ethanol is not the answer to our oil dependency. Even if all the corn grown in the US was used for fuel, it would replace only one out of six gallons.
Meanwhile, ethanol is contributing to global hunger. Last year, 40 percent of corn grown in the US went to fuel instead of food. If all the land used to grow biofuels for the EU in 2008 had instead been used to grow food, it could have fed 127 million people for an entire year. Major land grabs are happening all over the world, often propelled by the market’s demand for biofuels, leaving marginalized communities without access to traditional land and water to grow food….
The governors of North Carolina and Arkansas have asked the EPA to waive the renewable fuel standards mandate, which requires at least 10 percent of unleaded gasoline be made from ethanol. Waiving the corn ethanol mandate will lead to an estimated 7.4 percent drop in global corn prices, which will in turn lower prices for meat, milk, eggs, and more. For people living in poverty who spend up to 75 percent of their income on food, this small change can make a big impact.
Turning corn into fuel only compounds global hunger. America cannot build our own energy security on the back of people living in poverty—it is morally indefensible and wrong for our own energy, climate, and national security interests. We have an opportunity right now to press the pause button on misguided US corn ethanol policy by telling the EPA to waive the corn ethanol mandate.
I cannot vouch for or verify all of the points in this article, and I know nothing about Oxfam. But to put it again in a provocative way: burning food for fuel seems to go against common sense to me.
Food is a very precious and necessary commodity. Fuel is surely important, but it is secondary to food. Given that we can easily fuel our machinery with something other than food, it seems foolish to burn large quantities of food for fuel.
I would like to know your thoughts on this. Perhaps you will want to school me on some basic economic issues that I’m forgetting. Perhaps it is possible that we have such an overabundance of food that burning some of it for fuel actually makes sense.
But something tells me this is a very bad idea—maybe even immoral if it has severe effects on the poor and the hungry throughout the world, as I suspect it will.
Something else tells me that this is rooted more in an irrational fear and hatred of the petroleum industry, pressure by agricultural lobbies, and a misguided environmentalism that worries more about pollution than feeding the hungry.
But I realize these are complex issues, and what I really want to do is generate a discussion, share information, raise concerns, and perhaps alleviate some of them. Let me know what you think.
The battle against temptation in our lives is, of course, an ongoing struggle. Some moments and periods of our life provide more temptation than others, but no day goes by without at least some sort of temptation. While it is important to battle temptation in the moment, it is also important to build ourselves up by grace so that in moments of temptation we can draw on that strength and preparation to more easily win the battle.
Obviously, recourse to prayer, the Sacraments, and the Scriptures are essential in building ourselves up. But it is also instructive for us to observe how Jesus prepared Himself for the temptations that He faced. The Scripture affirms that He was tempted in every way that we are, yet without sin (cf Heb 4:15). Two important moments of temptation for Jesus that are depicted in the Scriptures are at the end of His time in the desert and in the garden of Gethsemane.
Let’s look in particular at what Jesus did to prepare Himself for the devil’s onslaught toward the end of His forty days in the desert. We can distinguish several important things He did to prepare for the moment of the devil’s attack.
I. In accepting baptism by John in the Jordan River for our sake, Jesus illustrates that it is important for us to deepen our own baptismal renewal by the Holy Spirit, and the experience of God’s love. Though Jesus did not have any sins that needed to be washed away, He humbly entered the Jordan for our sake, bringing into the water His mystical Body, which includes us. There He acquired for us, in a kind of prevenient way, the cleansing of our sins by repentance and baptism. He also prefigured for us the coming of the Holy Spirit to sanctify us and the Father’s great love for us, calling us his beloved sons and daughters.
Each of these gifts is important for us to frequently renew and meditate upon as a way of strengthening us against temptations that will come.
A. We must learn to appreciate the beautiful gift of being cleansed of our sins. We must learn to esteem the baptismal innocence which was ours as we came through those waters cleansed and beautifully renewed. What a precious gift to appreciate and to seek to preserve by daily repenting of our sins, calling on the Lord’s mercy, and frequently celebrating the Sacrament of Confession. This is a great help against temptation since, learning to more fully esteem the great gift of baptismal innocence, we are motivated to preserve it through the grace of the Sacraments.
B. Jesus also acquired for us in the river Jordan the great gift of the Holy Spirit, who descended upon Him like a dove. What a magnificent gift: that we would become temples of the Holy Spirit, who lives within us, sanctifying us and offering us every good grace. Yet too easily we forget this, for the Spirit dwells within us quietly, respectfully doing his work as does a careful surgeon. It is for us to ask for an anointing of the Spirit, to be aware of and respectful of His wonderful, mysterious, and powerful work within us. As we grow in knowledge and appreciation of this tremendous gift, we are enabled to draw consciously upon the grace and strength of the Spirit and see our lives gradually transformed. Here too is a great help in making us stronger so that when temptations arise, they are more easily conquered.
C. Jesus also receives for us the beautiful love of the Father. For as the Father looks to Jesus he says, Here is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased. And yet, mysteriously, this great acclamation extends also to us, who are in Christ. It is such a beautiful and necessary gift that we should experience God’s tender love for us. How encouraging and transformative it is for us to experience that we are beloved, that the Father has a tender love for us. Experiencing this love, we are equipped to respond with love and the holy reverence that makes us fear to ever offend the Father whom we love so much. When we love God, we love what God loves, and we love those whom God loves. And thus we desire to keep His Commandments not because we have to, but because we want to. And here is yet another way to see ourselves built up in love, so as to better avoid and have victory in moments of temptation.
After His baptism in the Jordan, Jesus continues to demonstrate for us other ways to build ourselves up so as to prepare for and have victory over temptation.
II. The Forty days of fasting and prayer in the desert. There are three keywords here; let’s look at them in reverse order.
A. The desert is a symbol of completely separating oneself from the world, of drawing apart from the world with all of its seductions, its lust of the eyes, and its desire for power and comfort. In the desert, one feels anything but powerful. Just a few minutes in the hot desert will humble even the strongest of persons. The spiritual desert is devoid of most of the luxuries and comforts of the world. It is a place of great simplicity, a place where less is more. Trying to carry around many things in the desert is quite foolish and results in needless expenditure of energy and depletion of necessary hydration. In the desert, essentials are emphasized and extraneous things are shed. Although the Church emphasizes this during Lent, one does well to embrace desert experiences throughout the year. As we gradually renounce the world and develop a capacity for the simplicity of the desert, fewer of the things of this world tempt us. And when they do tempt us, we see more clearly the lies of the world and prefer the simplicity and clarity of the desert.
B. Prayer – The prayer that assists us in overcoming temptation is not so much intercessory prayer (in which we tell God what we want or need), but rather prayer understood as the prayer of union, in which we seek to unite and align our heart with the heart, the mind, and the will of God. This is not the prayer that asks for what we want, but the prayer that asks God what He wants. As we enter into deeper union with God through this prayer, our heart, mind, and will begin to align with God’s great vision for our life. Through this sort of prayer, we love the beauty and goodness of God’s truth and begin to abhor injustice. We begin to desire holiness and find the sinful attitudes and perceptions of the world increasingly obnoxious and unattractive. Thus we are assisted in battling temptations to sin as our desires become more conformed to divine will.
C. Fasting –We may think first here of food. But spiritually it may involve other things. Perhaps it means intentionally removing some of the things in our life that clutter it: television (a terrible time bandit), the news, politics, etc. Perhaps, even for just a few days, we can create something of a fasting experience by intentionally screening these areas off and using the time and mental faculties for spiritual reading, recollection, and so forth. Fasting helps strengthen us against temptations because it trains us in certain forms of self-mastery. Giving up or setting aside certain lawful pleasures or interests, even for a relatively short time, is a good way to train ourselves to resist unlawful pleasures and interests.
Resisting the temptation to sin is easier for those who have spent time in the desert and in fasting, for in going into the wilderness we learn to lean on the Lord, and in fasting we learn to shed some of the unnecessary excesses of a worldly life.
Here then are some teachings of Jesus on how to be stronger so as to avoid temptation and to be prepared for the temptations that will still inevitably come. We are not simply to be sitting ducks. We need to be prepared ahead of time for the temptations that surely await us.
Jesus, though sinless, was still tempted, and He gives us very good picture of what it means to be prepared and ready for the temptations of life.
This song by Tallis is “In Jeiunio et Fletu” (In fasting and weeping). The singers are all wearing coats in the chapel of this old castle. Perhaps the singers (or the owner of the castle) are fasting from heat or other creature comforts as they sing this lament for sin and seek strength against temptation!
The first reading from today’s Mass is Paul’s farewell speech to the presbyters (priests) of the early Church. Here is a skilled bishop and pastor exhorting others who have pastoral roles within the Church. Let’s take a look at this text and apply its wisdom to Bishops and priests as well as to parents and other leaders in the Church.
Paul’s Farewell Sermon – The scene is Miletus, a town in Asia Minor on the coast not far from Ephesus. Paul, who is about to depart for Jerusalem, summons the presbyters (priests) of the early Church at Ephesus. Paul has ministered there for three years and now summons the priests for this final exhortation. In the sermon, St. Paul cites his own example of having been a zealous teacher of the faith who did not fail to preach the “whole counsel of God.” He did not merely preach what suited him or made him popular; he preached it all. To these early priests, Paul leaves this legacy and would have them follow in his footsteps. Let’s look at excerpts from this final exhortation. First the text, and then some commentary:
From Miletus Paul had the presbyters of the Church at Ephesus summoned. When they came to him, he addressed them, “You know how I lived among you the whole time from the day I first came to the province of Asia. I served the Lord with all humility and with the tears and trials that came to me … and I did not at all shrink from telling you what was for your benefit, or from teaching you in public or in your homes. I earnestly bore witness for both Jews and Greeks to repentance before God and to faith in our Lord Jesus … But now, compelled by the Spirit, I am going to Jerusalem … But now I know that none of you to whom I preached the kingdom during my travels will ever see my face again. And so I solemnly declare to you this day that I am not responsible for the blood of any of you, for I did not shrink from proclaiming to you the entire plan of God … (Acts 20:1-38 selected).
Here then is the prescription for every Bishop, priest, deacon, catechist, parent, and Catholic: that we should preach the whole counsel (the entire plan of God). It is too easy for us to emphasize only that which pleases us, or makes sense to us, or fits in with our world view. There are some who love the Lord’s sermons on love, but cannot abide his teachings on death, judgment, Heaven, and Hell. Some love to discuss liturgy and ceremony, but the care of the poor is far from them. Others point to His compassion, but neglect His call to repentance. Some love the way He dispatches the Pharisees and other leaders of the day, but suddenly become deaf when the Lord warns against fornication or insists that we love our spouse, neighbor, and enemy. Some love to focus inwardly and debate over doctrine, but neglect the outward focus of true evangelization to which we are commanded (cf Mat 28:19).
In the Church today, as a whole, we too easily divide out rather predictably along certain lines and emphases: life issues here, social justice over there; strong moral preaching here, compassionate inclusiveness over there. When one side speaks, the other side says, “There they go again!”
And yet somewhere we must be able to say, with St. Paul, that we did not shrink from proclaiming the whole counsel of God. While this is especially incumbent on the clergy, it must also be true for parents and all who attain any leadership in the Church. All of the issues above are important and must have their proper places in the preaching and witness of every Catholic, both clergy and lay. While we may have gifts to work in certain areas, we should learn to appreciate the whole counsel and the fact that others in the Church may be needed to balance and complete our work. It is true that we must exclude notions that stray from revealed doctrine, but within doctrine’s protective walls it is necessary that we not shrink from proclaiming and appreciating the whole counsel of God.
And if we do this we will suffer. Paul speaks above of tears and trials. In preaching the whole counsel of God (not just your favorite passages or politically correct, “safe” themes), expect to suffer. Expect to not quite fit in with people’s expectations. Jesus got into trouble with just about everyone. He didn’t offend just the elite and powerful. For example, even His own disciples puzzled over His teachings on divorce saying, “If that is the case of man not being able to divorce his wife it is better never to marry!” (Matt 19). Regarding the Eucharist, many left Him and would no longer walk in His company (John 6). When Jesus spoke of His divine origins, many took up stones with which to stone Him, but He passed through their midst (Jn 8). In addition, Jesus spoke of taking up crosses, forgiving your enemies, and preferring nothing to Him. He forbade even lustful thoughts, let alone fornication, and insisted we must learn to curb our unrighteous anger. Yes, preaching the whole counsel of God is guaranteed to earn us the wrath of many.
Sadly, over my years as a priest, I have had to bid farewell to congregations. This farewell speech of Paul is a critical passage whereby I examine my ministry. Did I preach even the difficult stuff? Was I willing to suffer for the truth? Did my people hear from me the whole counsel of God, or just the safe stuff?
How about you? Have you proclaimed the whole counsel of God? If you are clergy, when you move on; if you are a parent, when your child leaves for college; if you are a Catechist, when the children are ready to be confirmed or have reached college age; if you teach in RCIA, when the time comes for Easter sacraments—can you say you preached it all? God warned Ezekiel that if he failed to warn the sinner, that sinner would surely die for his sins but that Ezekiel himself would be responsible for his death (Ez 3:17 ff). Paul is able to say he is not responsible for the death (the blood) of any of them for he did not shrink from proclaiming the whole counsel of God. How about us?
The whole counsel of God; not just the safe stuff, the popular stuff, not just the stuff that agrees with my politics and those of my friends. The whole counsel, even the difficult stuff, the things that are ridiculed. The Whole Counsel of God.
This video contains the warning to the watchmen (us) in Ezekiel 3. Watch it if you dare.
Consider the scene. The Bishop has taken his place at the entrance to the sanctuary. He is prepared to confirm some twenty young people. It is a sacred moment; a Sacrament is to be conferred. The parents are in deep prayer thanking the Holy Spirit, who is about to confirm their children for their mission … oops, they’re not!
