On the Cartesian Anxiety of Our Times and What Faith Can Offer

We live in a time where some of the troubling philosophical premises of previous centuries have reached full flower. In particular the skepticism of our time, which plagues us, goes back several hundred years. Doubt and cynicism are a huge factor in our times and they underlie a lot of the atheism and agnosticism of this modern age.

Allow me for a moment to speculate as to how we have gotten here. As with all things, there are many causes, but I suspect that a lot of it goes back to Rene Descartes and his (flawed, I think) attempt to overcome the doubt he experienced. And, due to the significant influence he had, he set forth a kind of “Cartesian Anxiety”  which keeps us from attaining to a proper balance between certainty and doubt, faith and reason, body and mind. I think it has also severed our ties with the world as it is and has caused us to retreat into our minds.

Cartesian anxiety is a term that refers to a longing for absolute certainty, and the belief that scientific methods, should be able to lead us to a firm and unchanging knowledge of ourselves and the world around us. It is called Cartesian due to its connection to René Descartes who sowed seeds of extreme doubt by insisting upon a kind of absolute or ontological certainty in things. Western civilization has suffered from unrealistic expectations as to the basis of knowledge, and a kind of anxiety ever since, that we can really know anything in a way that will satisfy our doubt. Let’s take a brief look at Descartes. If you think you know about Descartes then skip the block and go to the implications.

René Descartes  lived in the Dutch Republic during the first half of the 17th Century. – He is widely held to be the Father of Modern Philosophy.

Descartes, uses a method of fundamental doubt, wherein he rejects any ideas that can be doubted, and then tries to re-establish them in what he considers a firm foundation for knowing them as actual or genuine.

This led Descartes, ultimately to only a single “provable” principle, namely that thought exists. He states this in his treatise, Discourse on the Method and Principles of Philosophy. It is here that we get the well-known cogito ergo sum (I think, therefore I am). In other words, since I doubt, something or someone must be doing the doubting, as so, the fact that I doubt proves my existence. Somewhat more negatively, the well-known phrase could be: “I doubt, therefore I am.”

It seems to me that this is where things begin to go off track since doubt and skepticism move to the center. Further, Descartes seems to conclude that he can only be certain that he exists because he thinks. He considers the senses unreliable. Only thought itself is evident to Descartes as a basis for what is undoubtedly real and existing. He considers that, in order to properly grasp the nature of things we must put aside the senses and use the mind.

Descartes thus went on to construct a system of knowledge that largely discarded perception as unreliable and admitting only deductive reasoning as a method of thinking or knowing.

Descartes was not an atheist and claimed to be able to prove God’s existence but in so doing he had to back away just a bit from his exclusion of the senses as reliable. In effect he argues that because God is benevolent, he can have some faith in what his senses communicate to him.  For God has provided him with a mind  and with senses and does not wish to deceive him. Thus, he does admit of the possibility of acquiring knowledge about the things based on deductive reasoning and perception via the senses.

Descartes also seems to back away from the radical skepticism his rationalism implies.  He argues that since sensory perceptions come to him involuntarily, they are thus, in fact, “out there.” The fact that these sensory perceptions come to him apart from his willing them, is evidence of the existence of something outside of his mind, and thus, an external world.

I personally think that Descartes fails in his attempt to re-establish a basis for reality. For, he first sows the seeds of a radical doubt then, according to me, has to break his own rule to reconstruct some semblance of reality outside his own doubting mind. But to do this he introduces a priori assumptions (e.g. God is benevolent), which, while I agree with them, are assumptions, nonetheless. Either the senses are not reliable, as he first argues, or they are to some extent reliable. In which case he must abandon his original rationalist and reductionist premise that only the inner mind is demonstrably real.

Even though I think he tried to resolve or back away from his radical doubt, In failing to clearly resolve it he left us with a legacy of Cartesian disconnectedness from reality and retreat into the mind.

OK, I hope I haven’t lost or bored you. But here are a few of the problems that seem to flow from Descartes and the Cartesian Anxiety he set forth. I do not say he held all these problems, only that they stem from what he pondered.

1. The retreat into the mind and loss of connection with reality. In radically distrusting his senses, Descartes disconnects himself (and us) from the world of reality. What is real is only what is in my mind. The actual “is-ness” of things is no longer the basis of reality. Now, it is just my thoughts that are real. Reality is not “out there” but it is only in my mind. It is what I think that matters.

This leads to a lot of the absurdity of modern times where we tend to overlook reality and reduce everything to opinion. We often think of things abstractly and as “issues.”

For example, abortion is an “issue” for many people, rather than the dismemberment of a human baby. Many tend to think of abortion abstractly and repackage “it” as choice, or a woman’s right. But abortion is not an abstraction. There is something actually happening “out there” in the real world. An actual child is being dismembered and suctioned into a jar. But the Cartesian retreat into the mind allows many to continue to think of abortion abstractly and as an issue. And the mind, detached from reality can do some pretty awful rationalizing. Showing actual pictures of abortion seems to have little affect on those who have retreated into their minds and think of abortion abstractly as an issue, rather than a real thing.

The same is true for the issue of homosexuality. Any even rudimentary look into the biology and design of the body makes it clear that something is disordered with homosexual activity. The man is for the woman, not for the man. The biology is clear. But with the Cartesian retreat into the mind, the body no longer has anything to say to many people. “What does the body have to do with it?” Many ask. All that seems to matter is what they think. It is opinion, not reality, that wins the day. Thought overrules the body, dismisses the external reality. Here again is the Cartesian flight from the real world into the mind.

And the same holds true for just about every moral issue today. It is merely my thoughts and intentions that matter. What I am actually doing is, to the Cartesian dualist is not that important. It is what I think that matters.

2. Reality is no longer revelatoryThe revelation that comes simply from the way things are,  is “not reliable” and is mere opinion in this Cartesian world we have inherited. Scripture and the Natural Law tradition had held that creation and the way things are were revelatory for us. St. Paul says, For what can be known about God is evident to them, because God made it evident to them. Ever since the creation of the world, his invisible attributes of eternal power and divinity have been able to be understood and perceived in what he has made (Romans 1:18-19). There was a confidence in the Scriptures, and Natural Law Tradition, that the created world, that reality, provided a reliable guide to what was right and true. We had only to study the “is-ness” of things to learn. But this is all jettisoned in the Cartesian world, which remains skeptical that we can really know or reliably perceive the “there” out there.

3. The Cartesian worldview is also unrealistic in insisting upon “absolute” proof. To insist that we, who are contingent and limited beings, can prove or know something absolutely is both arrogant and unrealistic. In the Christian worldview their remains a mystery to all things, a hiddenness that we come to accept. Now mystery does not mean we are clueless. We are clearly able to perceive and come to know what God reveals. But mystery is the Christian acceptance of the fact that things are partially revealed, but that much more lies hidden and unseen.

For example, every human being is a mystery. We are surely able to perceive many things about the people we know. We see their physical presence and know many things about them. But there is also a glorious hiddenness to every person related to their inner life and their place in God’s plan. This is mystery: things are revealed, but at the same time, much lies hidden.

Hence the absolute proof demanded by the Cartesian world is unrealistic.

But simply because we do not know all things, does not mean we know nothing. A balance is required where we can be confident about what we do know and honest about what we do not know. Some degree of doubt or uncertainty is part of the human experience. Yes, we can actually know things, though not as absolutely as demanded by the Cartesian notion of hyperbolic doubt.

4.  And this unrealistic notion of needing absolute proof in order to know things is what leads to the Cartesian anxiety of our times and causes us to set up intellectual idols. We tend in our culture to divinize science and the scientific method. And, I would argue, we do this out of Cartesian anxiety. We seem to desperately need absolute proof and so we entertain the notion that science can provide this. Of course, scientific theories change all the time, but never mind, we’re talking about an idol here, and the anxious search for absolute proof is willing to overlook facts like this. “Perhaps older theories have given way, but now we REALLY know! Now the proof is in, and the theory is absolutely proven!” Or so we think. But this is anxiety; it is not reality. Science will continue to change with new data, as it must. And science does not know or prove many  things absolutely. We know a lot, but there is a lot we do not know. Good scientists know this and freely admit it. Science alone cannot be our elixir for the radical doubt that troubles us.

And so, here we are. The Cartesian world is in full flower. But it is not a lovely flower. It has led us to an imbalance. On the one hand we distrust reality and have retreated into our minds. Yet, paradoxically we seem desperate to prove some things absolutely to overcome the anxiety that extreme doubt produces. Our confidence in reality as a reliable guide was set aside as we have increasingly retreated into our minds. But, without reality as a reliable guide, we have sought something to soothe the anxiety that uncertainty causes. And so we trot out science and anoint experts and entertain the fiction that they can give the absolute proof our Cartesian anxiety demands.

It is a perfect storm caused by an unrealistic demand that everything be absolutely proven to be knowable at all.  As usual, faith provides a better balance. For the fact is, there are many things we cannot know with absolute proof, but we can still know them as reliable. Not everything is known with absolute certainty, but that does not mean it is not known at all. Faith and trust are an important way of knowing.  God trains us to trust him through faith. And this also helps us to learn to trust ourselves, our senses, and the reality of the things around us. It even helps us to trust one another.

St. Augustine well described the human person without God as curvatus in se (turned in on himself). That is what seems to have happened to us as we have retreated into our minds. Through faith God can turn us out again to creation, to truth, to one another, and to Himself. This is the real cure for our Cartesian Anxiety.

Walking in the Footsteps: Learning to Trust

That Which Remains

Today’s Church, San Lorenzo in Damaso (St. Lawrence in Damaso) once recalls the memory of St. Lawrence, the great deacon-martyr or Rome whom we celebrated earlier this Lent.  Pope Damasus I (366-384) built one of the original twenty-five parishes of Rome nearby, not long after Emperor Constantine had legalized Christianity in 313.  The Basilica then went through various phases: in 1484 it was demolished to make room for a new Palace, which later became the papal chancellery but included a newly designed Renaissance church within.  The present basilica is the result of this Renaissance church, renovated after damages from the Napoleonic occupation of Rome at the turn of the 18th century and a fire in 1939.  Of note are the remains of Pope St. Damasus, and Sts. Eutychius, John Calybites, and Hippolytus, as well as a beautiful Byzantine icon of Our Lady and a miraculous crucifix before which St. Bridget of Sweden often prayed.

The Word as an Instrument

In today’s Gospel (Jn 5:1-16) Jesus heals a crippled man.  “‘Do you want to be well?’  The sick man answered him, ‘Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; while I am on my way, someone else gets down there before me.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Rise, take up your mat, and walk.’ Immediately the man became well, took up his mat, and walked.”  There’s something abrupt about this

miracle: the passage does not explicitly highlight the importance of faith in Jesus, or some great act of confidence on the crippled man’s part.  Instead, the man only implicitly answers “yes” to Jesus’ question, and it is Jesus’ command, “rise,” that heals the man.  The focus is on the power of Jesus’ word, and might remind us that listening to his word daily can be a powerful instrument of healing in our lives.

If Jesus’ word contains such power it must be taken seriously, and therefore we cannot dismiss Jesus’ somewhat off-putting command to the man later in the Gospel: “Look, you are well; do not sin any more, so that nothing worse may happen to you.”  What a paradox—just this past Sunday we heard Jesus say a man was born blind not because of sin, but, “so that the works of God might be made visible through him.” (Jn 9:2)  Has Jesus changed his mind?  Does illness come from sin, or not?  Following the Gospels closely and reflecting within the context of the whole Bible, we can affirm both answers.  Sin can lead to suffering, as told by the story of Adam and Eve in the Book of Genesis, Psalm 107:17, and affirmed by St. Paul in his letter to the Corinthians (1 Cor 11:30).  But there is need to view suffering in the context of our relationship with the Father: although God does not want us to suffer, He may allow it, and always can bring forth a greater good.  It’s this truth that we will celebrate on Good Friday and Easter Sunday, when God allowed even his sinless Son to suffer, only to bring about our salvation; and it’s this truth that led St. Augustine to comment on Adam and Eve’s sin, “O happy fault that merited such and so great a Redeemer!”

Mother as Teacher

Whether our suffering is due to past sins that we’ve confessed, or is something we’ve received without personal fault, do we trust God can bring good out of either?  If not, there is a shortcut: let us begin by looking through the eyes of Mary, who trusted completely in the Father, but whose heart, as a loving mother, was “pierced” as she looked upon Her Son on the Cross.  Here, at the foot of the cross, Our Mother teaches us to trust in God especially when there is no human reason to do so.  Images of Mary remind us to trust as she did, but even better is to allow Mary to pray with and for us, especially with the time-and-saint-tested rosary.

Written by Tim Daniel

Photos by Fr. Justin Huber

Just Becasue We Can

“Practice random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty,” a popular slogan a few years back, challenged our culture in which what we do, and how we do it, is carefully calculated to help us get ahead and get noticed. In our world, stopping to perform a small kindness can knock us off schedule; reputations and resumes aren’t enhanced by random, unrecognized deeds.

Consider, however, what Jesus did in today’s gospel. He saw a pool full of sick, needy, diseased people. As far as the world was concerned, they had nothing of much value to offer. Nevertheless, even though he was busy, Jesus stopped, healed a disabled person, then vanished into the crowd before others made a big deal about it.

Why did Jesus do this? First of all, because he could. Likewise, each and every one of us, with our time, talent, and treasure, is able to do a lot. Perhaps more than we often realize.

Second, Jesus did what he did because he is humble. It would have been easy for him to have drawn attention to himself by his miracle. Yet Jesus acted discretely, and without fanfare.

Third, Jesus did what he did purely out of love, because there was nothing to gain in return for healing this man. Jesus didn’t even receive a “Thank you” for his efforts; the man he healed didn’t even know Jesus’ name.

Our Lord invites us today to follow his example by making random acts of kindness with humility, and out of love, just because we can.

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/040511.shtml

Photo credit: Ed Yourdon via Creative Commons

A Journey Home to the Catholic Faith and What We Can Learn.

A recent announcement of journey home to the Catholic Faith was made by the well known pro-life advocate Bryan Kemper. His announcement letter is posted below. Not only can we rejoice to have a fine and prophetic new member, but, in reading his letter, we can also see certain hallmarks that have led him to the Church. The things he mentions are also things others have mentioned. I would also like to discuss something he does NOT mention.

First here is the letter he sent to his supporters on his blog. I have taken the liberty of adding a few reflections which appear in plain text red.

Dear friends,

I know this may come as a shock to many of you; I am in shock in a way my self. I have spent the past 23 years living my life for Christ always wanting to serve Him and know His truth.

I have been a member of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church for almost 10 years as I was so inspired by the liturgy and reverence I found there. I have also been in a constant journey for God’s truth, studying His Word as well as church history. After many, many years of resisting a calling that I tried to suppress I have finally felt the peace of God with my decision to join the Catholic Church. Please note his reference to being inspired by the liturgy and reverence in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church. I want to comment on that below.

I know that many of you will be confused, even concerned for me. I know that you will have many questions and even be tempted to try and dissuade me from this decision. While I will most certainly talk to you about what God is doing here, I will not be entering into any debates about this right now.

I want to let you know this is not made lightly; I fought against this for years. There are several things that led me to search and finally choose to go back to the Church. I will share a few things in brief here and would love to sit down in person some time with you if you want to peacefully discuss them in more detail.

Every true spiritual journey is marked by profound consideration and often painful discernment. He clearly has love for the traditions which have nourished and sustained him and cannot lightly leave that behind. I have made this journey with others who have joined the Catholic Church and found that their love and appreciation for what has sustained them and is an important  aspect of the gifts they bring to the Church. The Church is wonderfully enriched by the fact that they do not cast aside what they have received in the past, but rather that they transpose and apply it to the Catholic setting. For there is great zeal, love and knowledge of Scripture, a fine tradition of preaching, hymnody, an appreciation for a personal walk with the Lord, and countless other gifts in the Protestant traditions. We are indeed enriched by those who join us.

Church authority: There are simply thousands and thousands of denominations and every time someone disagrees with another teaching of their church they simply start a new one. The Catholic Church has had it’s teaching since the beginning of the Church in the scriptures. There is no way God can be happy with thousands of denominations or so-called non-denominational churches. It seems that when people disagree on doctrine it often results in another break off church. The fact is that current Christian teaching can differ so much between two churches that it really constitutes different religions and different Gods. There must be one established truth that God gave us, one that has remained from the time of Christ.

We have talked a lot about this in this blog. It is the chief problem with the Protestant approach. When no one is Pope, everyone is Pope and there are no real ways of resolving difficulties and the conflicts that inevitably happen when two or more human beings are together. One of the glories of the Catholic Church has been her integrity in terms of authority and unity in terms of doctrine.

There are, to be sure, squabbles among the faithful as to emphasis and direction. But when the problem is doctrinal, or the non-doctrinal debates become too divisive, we DO have a way of ultimately resolving it and remaining in a coherent unity.

Some of the older, main-line Protestant denominations were able to keep this for a time when Scripture’s authority and veracity were unquestioned. But in recent decades, the main-line denominations no longer agree on authority of Scripture in terms of its plain meaning, and the differing views have caused major ruptures in the Episcopal, Methodist, Lutheran, and Presbyterian branches. It is most often the moral questions, such as homosexuality and abortion, that prove most problematic. And without Scripture, tradition and authority the severing into ever wider varieties is inevitable.

Mr. Kemper could not have said it better than when he speaks of there being one established truth that has remained intact since the time of Christ.

Pro-life and Contraception: There is only one church that has been consistent from the time of Christ to today on the teaching of pro—life and contraception. Before 1930 there was never a single Christian church in history to accept any form of contraception and today there is only one that absolutely has kept this Christian teaching and truth.

Praise God for this insight. The Catholic Church has often been excoriated for not keeping up with the times. But of course, as Mr. Kemper notes, this is not the role of the Church. Rather, she is to consistently hold to the truths that come to us from Christ through the Apostles. Though sorely tempted by her own members to update in terms of contraception and, to some extent, abortion, the Church has held firm to what she has received.

In terms of pro-life issues, you may recall that we discussed on this blog some time ago what David French, a well known Protestant author said of the Catholic Church: for almost forty years has been the beating heart of the American pro-life movement….One cannot spend five minutes with thoughtful Catholics without understanding how the defense of life is a fundamental and integral part of the DNA of the church. Since the defense of life is theologically-grounded, it is functionally and practically independent of any secular ideology. Life is not just an “issue,” for a Catholic; it is at the core of the Gospel. [1]

Yes, dedication to pro-life issues and holding firm on the teaching about contraception are two glories of the Church. And, it is important to see that this sort of prophetic stance is winning new members for us, members who bring great gifts and zeal with them. We ought not fear being prophetic and zealous lovers of life. God is both renewing us and blessing us with new members like Bryan Kemper.

Communion or the Eucharist: I have always believed that communion was more that just a symbol and in looking back at early church teaching it is crystal clear that this was taught from day one. St Ignatius of Antioch a student of John the Apostle taught on this and clarified it well.

Here too is the central glory of the Catholic Church, that we unvaryingly hold to the true presence of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist. I cannot tell you how many have come to the Church or returned to her on this count. The Scriptures could not be clearer on this point and, as Mr. Kemper notes, the Church Fathers also held it from day one. What a magnificent glory it is that we have Christ truly present in our tabernacles and truly receive him in Holy Communion. To remain devoted to Christ in the Eucharist is surely a necessary requirement for the Church if we want the Lord to bless us with new members.

These are just a few of the things that drew me back into the Catholic Church; however there is so much more. I was baptized Catholic as a child so the process is not as complicated for me. I will be starting RCIA classes and working towards confirmation.

I am asking my friends to pray for my family’s journey and me as I truly seek to be closer to Christ. My relationship with Christ is the most important thing in my life and I hope my friends will stand by me, as I grow closer to Him.

As for the work of Stand True; it will remain focused on educating, activating and equipping young to stand up for life and Christ. We have always been an organization that reaches out to and works with all Christians and we will remain true to that. A great work he is doing.

For Christ I stand,

Bryan Kemper

The original statement is found here: Journey Home

So, there is much to be grateful for here. Clearly the beauty, and the integrity of the Church on many issues continues to inspire new members to join us.

I would like to mention something Mr. Kemper did not say and ponder for a moment the possible meaning of it. You will note above that he said: I have been a member of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church for almost 10 years as I was so inspired by the liturgy and reverence I found there. Among the things he did not list, as his reason for joining the Catholic Church, was the inspiration and reverence related to the liturgy. It may well be that he did not discuss this for the sake of brevity. But I wonder if we might not perhaps be willing to learn why the liturgical experience did not make the list?

The fact is that too much Catholic liturgy today comes across as neither inspiring nor reverent. There is nothing wrong with our liturgy in essence. It is the glorious Mass handed on to us by Christ and the Apostles. But the way we celebrate it in the typical Catholic parish is often problematic. It is rushed, sermons are poor and music is sometimes of questionable taste. Further, people dress casually, and sometimes act irreverently in the Church. Many too, seem bored and disengaged from what is going on. Clergy too often seem to celebrate in a perfunctory manner, and liturgical abuses sometimes taint the celebration.

In dealing with converts from the main-line denominations, one of the hurdles I have discovered they often have to clear is the question of liturgy. They come from liturgical traditions that are not as elaborate as the full Catholic Tradition. However, their traditions are marked by a noble simplicity that has engaged them well. There is a great tradition of hymn singing, and congregational involvement. There is also a tradition of fine preaching that includes a lengthier, teaching oriented sermon that fully develops the scriptural text. Their congregations tend to be smaller and the services less numerous. Community is more intimate and so forth. It is often a sacrifice for many of them to leave this and come to an often less cozy and reverent environment that predominates in many of our larger parishes. To be sure, Catholicism offers a wide variety of liturgical experiences and reverence is not easily defined as jsut one thing. But it ought to be noted that Mr. Kemper did not mention the reverent liturgies of the Church on his primary list. We might learn something from this.

Bryan Kemper’s entrance into the Church is something to rejoice in. Obviously he sees and appreciates something in the Church that has caused him to make what is a big step for him. Pray for him as he makes this transition. Further, we ought as Catholics, to rejoice in the prophetic witness of the Church and how many are still inspired to join. Something is going right here and we ought to be grateful at what the Lord is doing. Not only does the Church enrich and inspire others to membership in the Body of Christ, but the Church is also enriched by the gifts that others, like Bryan Kemper brings. Let us rejoice and give thanks.

Here is a video clip of Bryan’s Work:

Walking in the Footsteps: Trusting The Lord’s Word

Choosing Christ

Today, to begin the fourth week of our Lenten Station Church Pilgrimage, we journeyed to the church of Santi Quattro Coronati (Four Holy Crowns).  A few blocks from the Coliseum, this church building dates back to the days of Emperor Constantine and was first used as a church around the year 630.  It commemorates two groups of martyrs.  The first group, for whom the church was named, was four Christian soldiers who refused to sacrifice to pagan gods and so were killed during the Diocletian Persecution.  The second group was five stone masons who were killed for refusing to make a statue of a pagan god.  In giving their lives for love, these two groups of heroic martyrs remind us of Christ’s unwavering love for us, even to the point of His death on a cross. As Lent draws closer to Good Friday, we remember that it is not just the martyrs who remind the world of Christ’s faithful love.  We too must listen to how the Lord is calling us to show the world that God is a God of mercy and love. In this way we become witnesses to Jesus just as the martyrs were.

On the strength of  Jesus’ Word

In today’s Gospel, Jesus challenges us to have faith in Him.  A royal official approaches Jesus and begs that He heal his dying son.  Rather than performing an obvious miracle, Jesus simply tells the official, “You may go; your son will live.”  St. John tells us that “the man believed what Jesus said to him and left.”  How many of us would have had that reaction?  Would we have believed as easily as the official did?  Most of us would have asked Jesus for a sign to prove that the boy would actually be healed.  Jesus’ word would not have been enough.  Or how many of us, trying to live out the Christian life, really believe that Jesus can heal our sinful nature?  Every day we try to follow Christ, and yet we repeatedly fall.  Today, Jesus is calling us to remember the gift of faith we have been given in our baptism.  We do not need to approach God with doubt, wondering whether He will love us with all our faults.  We approach Him as children, confident in His unending love.  Following Christ is not a matter of picking ourselves up by the bootstraps.  Rather, it is a life of faith in Christ who freely gives us the grace to follow Him.  All He asks of us is to live out this gift of faith.  Today Jesus is calling us to believe in His goodness and be open to his healing power in our lives.

Written by Christopher Seith

Photos by Fr. Justin Huber

Following in the footsteps: Remembering a vow

If American expatriates in Rome have a “home”, it is Saturday’s station church, the church of Santa Susanna. This church is the American parish in Rome, entrusted to the Paulist Fathers in 1922 for their ministry to the American community in Rome. Today it is a thriving parish which serves Americans working at the embassy and other expats. The station church pilgrims received a warm welcome from the parish Saturday morning, and they even hosted us for coffee and croissants after Mass! (Doughnuts are hard to come by in Italy.)

The church has ancient roots, being built on the site of a Christian house used for worship starting in the fourth century. We are told that the house belonged to the family of St. Susanna, martyred in the persecutions of the late third century. Susanna’s adherence to the Christian faith came to light when she spurned an offer of marriage, having made a secret vow of virginity for the sake of the kingdom of God.

The story of Susanna reminds us how precious a gift the early Christian Church considered avowed virginity. Not only did such a vow contravene the Roman Empire’s interest in population increase, but it also was surprising in light of the many Old Testament references to a family as a blessing. (cf. Ps 128:3) But for the earliest Christians, the presence of virgins was a witness to their faith in Jesus the Messiah. Virgins not only served Christ (and him alone) as their living Lord, but they were also an eschatological sign of our life in heaven, where we “neither marry nor are given in marriage.” (Mt 22:30)  Let us pray that the charism of avowed virginity may flourish in our Church even today.

Written by Aaron Qureshi

Photos by Fr. Justin Huber

Bargaining with God

Sir Alec Guinness, the famous actor, made what he called a “negative bargain” with God when his eleven-year old son contracted polio. If his son recovered, Guinness promised, he wouldn’t stand in his son’s way to become Catholic. The boy did recover, and his father kept his promise. A few years later, Alec Guinness became Catholic himself.

Some might take a rather cynical view of Guinness’ attempt to lure God to the bargaining table. After all, he only turned to God when he had no one else to turn to! Yet that’s been the experience of many people, not just Alec Guinness. So often it’s only when we have our backs pressed against the wall that we give God any real consideration. But God can work with that. He knows that it’s when we’ve hit rock bottom that we’re the most open to receiving his grace.

We can see this in today’s gospel. The royal official approached Jesus in desperation, with no other motive than to secure the healing of his dying son. Jesus knew this. “Unless you people see signs and wonders,” he complained, “you do not believe.” The royal official didn’t contest the point. He simply continued to beg Jesus. And Jesus did heal his son, whereupon the official’s entire household became believers.

All this goes to show that God will meet us wherever we are, because even more that we might desire to be with God, God desires to be with us!

Readings for today’s Mass: http://www.usccb.org/nab/040411.shtml

Photo Credit: Freeparking via Creative Commons

On the Gifts of Aging – A Meditation on the Inverse Proportionality of Physical Aging and Spiritual Vigor

We live in an age where youth is celebrated and aging is lamented. Generations ago, age was the “hoary crown of wisdom,” the elders were reverenced and the young stood when they entered. But in this age of the visual, this age of television, everything is reversed. I remember a line from a song (by The Who) when I was a teenager which said, “Hope I die before I get old.”

The Photo at  right is me at 5 years old, my dad to the right was 38, my grandfather was 68. All three of us were named “Charles Evans Pope.” Now they’re both gone on, and its just me. The world laments age and death, But as I look at this photo I rejoice for them and myself. They were men of faith, their journey is done, and my is well past noon. And as I journey in their wake, I marvel at what the Lord is doing for me.

Yes, as for me, I must say, I’m glad I’m getting older. I know, you’ll say, “At 50 you’re just a child.” But I am not child, I’m half past dying and celebrating that God has brought me a mighty long way. Yes, I’ve discovered that the gifts of God have come more alive in me as my youthful vigor has dissipated.  I see those old pictures of myself in my twenties, looking young, tan and trim, now I’m old(er), white and fat. But though my body has gone south for the winter of life, now my soul has come alive as never before.

St. Paul says, Therefore, we are not discouraged; rather, although our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day (2 Cor 4:16).

Yes, indeed, I am a witness. I have to admit, my body isn’t exactly wasting away (it actually tends to gain weight), but it surely is not the sound sleek body of my youth. But this I can surely attest, my inmost self is being renewed and strengthened with each passing day. I have become more prayerful, more joyful at what God is doing, more aware of his presence and his ways. I am seeing sins put to death and better things come alive.I am less fearful, more confident, less angry, more serene.

Inverse proportionality – Yes, even though my physical stamina is less, I get winded climbing stairs now, my spiritual strength is better than ever. At age 50, I am more alive than I was at age 20. Glory be to God! I would never want to be 20 again, the Lord has just brought me too far and done too much for me, to ever want to set the clock back again. A few particulars occur to me that suggest an inverse proportion between youthful vigor and spiritual growth.

  1. My physical eyesight has become very poor. I am quite crippled without my glasses now. Until forty I did not wear glasses at all. But since forty I have come to place where, without my glasses everything is just a hazy blur. And yet, I spiritually see things I never did before. The word of God jumps off the page in new ways. There are new insights, new enlightenment as to what God is saying. I rejoice in this new inner vision that has come upon me in this second half of my life and I look with great expectation to the even deeper vision He will give me as I age.
  2. My hearing has become poorer with the onset of middle age. I have had a certain hearing loss since birth but now it becomes worse. But here too, I have learned to listen more attentively and to look at others while they speak. This connects me more deeply to them.
  3. I also have new insights into the people I am privileged to know. I have come to appreciate how wonderfully quirky we all are and how closely related our gifts are to our deficits. Though my physical vision is poor, my insight into the glory and the struggle of those closest to me is a gift I appreciate and hope to see grow even more with the passing years.
  4. Even as my physical hearing has diminished, my spiritual hearing has become far more acute. I hear things in God’s word I never did before. I hear God speaking to me on my spiritual walk with greater sensitivity. We have very good lectors and a marvelous choir in my parish and I marvel at what I hear from them each Sunday. Faith comes by hearing, and as I age I am more sensitive to what I hear at Mass and in sacred moments. When I was young, I was tuned out at Mass. The priest was just “some dude” up there talking and the Choir, well they weren’t singing rock, so what did it matter. But God has opened my ears as I have aged to appreciate his voice in newer and wider ways. Thanks be to God. He speaks to me throughout my day and I hear his voice more consistently.
  5. As I age, I am less physically able to accomplish things I once did on my own. I now fear heights and can’t climb tall ladders. I have a hard time lifting heavy things without injury. But all this has made me more humble and more appreciative of the help that others can give. Gratitude and an proper sense of interdependence are a gift I have discovered with age.  In the gift of age God has helped me be more grateful and connected to others.
  6. As I age and become less physically “glorious,” I appreciate more deeply the beauty and glory of Creation. Indeed, it astounds me in new ways. Each new discovery shouts out the glory of God to me. I am far more appreciative of the present glory of God than I ever was as a youth, when the focus was more on me. Now simple things, like the color purple, the magnificence of Spring, the quiet still after a heavy snow, the wonder and awe created by watching a science channel show on the mysteries of the deep oceans. As I have become more vincible and fragile with age, the world far more astonishes me and makes me cry, Glory to God!
  7. As I have aged I have discovered limitations. But this has made more humble and understanding of the struggles of others. When I was young I was impatient. There was little I could not do, or at lost thought I could not do. But, now, experiencing more of my limits I have seen compassion and understanding awaken in me, patience too.
  8. As I have aged, I am more easily fatigued. I usually need an afternoon nap and am blessed to be able to take one, living as I do “above the store.” It’s the only way I can get through my evening appointments. Yet, what a gift a nap is. I am mindful of Psalm 127 which says, In vain is your earlier rising, your going later to rest, you who toil for the bread you eat; for the Lord pours gifts on his beloved while they slumber (v. 4). Yes, God does pour his gifts on us even when we slumber. And as I age a I grateful even for the gift of a brief rest.

More could be said. I am glad to be getting just a bit older. I am running to meet God, and every day brings me closer. I can’t wait to see Him. I am like a child in Mid December who can’t wait for Christmas morning. That the days speed by more quickly only increases the longing for me. Each day, each step, closer to God.

And while my body goes south, my soul looks up. The weaker my physical flesh, the stronger my spirit and soul. The weaker my eyes, the deeper my spiritual vision and insight. The duller my physical hearing, the more intent my spiritual ears. God is good, he takes the one gift and returns another and greater gift.

And the best is yet to come! The Gospel today was of the man born blind who came to see, and God said to me at Mass today, in the words of a Gospel song,  “You ain’t seen nothing yet!” Scripture affirms: Beyond these, many things lie hid; only a few of his works have we seen (Sirach 43:34).St. Paul says, When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. (1 Cor 13:11-12)

I’m running to meet God. Age is a glorious thing, bring it on!

This song says,  Sicut cervus desiderat ad fontes aquarum,ita desiderat anima mea ad te, Deus. (As the deer longs for running water, so longs my soul for you, O God). The text is from Psalm 42:1  I would compare the song to a musical sigh. Palestrina has captured well the longing of the human heart for God here. Another gift that I think comes with age.