Postmodern Catholic preaching! Jesus, Mary, Joseph. . .help us!
Fractal FleshSs. John de Brebeuf and Isaac Jogues: 2 Cor 4.7-15 and Matthew 28.16-20
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
Serra Club Mass and Church of the Incarnation
Paul clarifies: “We are afflicted in every way, but not constrained;…persecuted but not abandoned;…always carrying about in the body the dying of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our body.” Jesus is with us always. His body, the Church—because of the surpassing power of God—is becoming Christ; in his dying and in his living, Jesus is being manifested in our mortal flesh; and we, you and I, though often perplexed by the mysteries of our rescue from sin and death, we are never driven to despair; though we are sometimes struck down, we are never destroyed. The victory of the Church of over sin and death is accomplished in the “defeat” of Christ on the Cross—the scandal that ignites our transformation into those who follow Christ to his cross. We follow him to his cross, into his death, and down under his tombstone, therefore “the One who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus,” placing us in His presence.
If we follow Christ now, die with him now, and live always in the hope of rising with him, then we must do what he did and teach what he taught. To do or teach anything less or other-than is a betrayal of, treason against the manifestation of his living and dying in our mortal flesh. And so, to all the nations we go out “baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that [he] has commanded [us].” Our success in this commission is more than a force of history, more than the accuracy of our story told over and again; our success in this assignment as mortal-flesh-transformed is guaranteed by the living presence of the one who is himself the Word Made Flesh. Though afflicted, persecuted, and struck down, we cannot fail because what we do in our mortal flesh as his Body is “not from us” but is the fruit of our God’s surpassing power, the power of “I AM with you always.”
I believe, therefore I speak: Live as Christ. Die as Christ. Rise with Christ to the Father “so that the grace bestowed in abundance” may be given again and again to more and more and more and the harvest of thanksgiving for our Lord’s life and death will “overflow for the glory of God.” Go, therefore, be fruitful and multiply! Christ is with us always!
Heidegger, Nietzsche, and Derrida and their band, The Categorical Imperatives
St Ignatius of
Jesus teaches his disciples that they must die like a grain of wheat before they are can produce much fruit. How are they to die? Except for John, all of them are martyred—the seeds of their blood sown for the Church. Jesus means literal death, literally one must die to bear the best fruit. Our martyrs, our witnesses in death, bear this out. He also means that before death you must die to self so that what gifts you have may be used for others: “Whoever loves his life loses it…whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there also will my servant be.” Is there any sign for us here and now that we have lost of our life for Christ and stand ready to follow him? How do we know that we have fallen to the ground like that grain of wheat and are now ready to produce much fruit?
Are you afraid? What do fear? Whom do you fear? Is there a fiber of dread in you? Even a sliver of apprehension about who you are or what you will do or who it is you need to serve? I ask b/c fear is the soul’s signal to us that we love our lives too much. Anxiety is our defense against surrender. To be afraid is a sign that we still need control, still hope to be in charge, still want to own our future—a future, by the way, that in virtue of your baptism properly belongs to Christ alone. Jesus says, “Whoever loves his life loses it…” We have lost our lives to him. That worrying disquiet, that nervous vigilance against submitting fully to grace, the fear you feel welling up when your plans go awry, when your strategy for your soul’s progress is thwarted, that fear is your billboard announcement that you are not willing yet to be a servant. The thick hull of your seed is not yet willing to crack, to germinate, to produce much fruit.
Listen to Ignatius of Antioch, writing to the first century church in Rome, asking his brothers and sisters in Christ not to rescue him from martyrdom: “I plead with you: show me no untimely kindness. Let me be food for the wild beasts, for they are my way to God. I am God’s wheat and shall be ground by their teeth so that I may become Christ’s pure bread…Do not stand in the way of my birth to real life; do not wish me stillborn…Let me attain pure light. Only on my arrival there can I be fully a human being.”
We are citizens of heaven, so our minds must not be occupied with earthly things. Does this mean that you are to wall yourself up in a cave? No. It means that the country of your soul, the territory of your Spirit is ruled by the sacrificial love of God Himself, and no other spirit—not anxiety, not hatred, not envy or pride, no other vicious spirit—must be allowed to occupy the land of your love for Christ and his Church. Desire only to die in Christ for Christ and pray with the martyr Ignatius that you may obtain your desire.
Texas' First Cardinal?
Teresa of Jesus: Romans 8.22-27 and John 15.1-8This image of “giving birth to the word” connects with our sisters in Christ better, I think, than it does with our brothers. Though some of us may look as though we are about to give birth, images of motherhood require some intimacy with the biological processes involved to be effective as a teaching method. John gives us another image of our familial connection to Christ that is a bit more universal in its appeal—the analogy of the God the vine grower, Christ the vine, and the we the branches. First, Jesus tells the disciples, “You are already pruned because of the word I spoke to you.” Jesus has cut away the obstacles of sin, the ties that bind, the relationships that impede growth in holiness with him. We are branches prepared to be grafted onto the vine. Next, Jesus admonishes them, “Remain in me, as I remain in you.” As a pruned branch, a cut limb, we cannot live apart from the vine. We wither and die without the nourishment of Christ the Branch. We need that organic feed, that biological bond not just to survive but to prosper, to bloom and bear fruit. And if we fail to grow that organic bond—to bloom, to bear good fruit—we die on the branch. And we are pruned away, gathered up, and thrown into the fire. Then the real groaning begins!
Jesus says to his disciples: “By this is my Father glorified, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.” Now, we can go back to fidgeting and tapping and loudly sighing; waiting as our bounce our knees, groaning for our redemption. And while we wait—happily impatient, hopefully annoyed for having to linger here—we remain in Christ and he remains in us, and the Spirit, himself a groaner of the inexpressible, intercedes for us before the throne, insuring that when our impatient hearts are searched, our Father finds a field of good fruit, acres of fresh produce. Remember Christ’s promise: “Remain in my love; whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit.”
Your life can be a car wreck too! Keep reading to find out how!28th Sunday OT: 2 Kings 5.14-17; 2 Tim 2.8-13; Luke 17.11-19
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
Paul writes to Timothy that he, Paul, is a criminal for the gospel, a man put in chains for preaching the Good News to Jews and Gentiles alike. And though he is suffering in chains for the sake of Christ and Christ’s body, “the word of God is not chained.” We can add here: “…and the word of God will never be chained.” Though courts, kings, governors, and states may strive to whip the Word with judicial rulings or bury it in paper prisons or poison it with the deadliest medicines, the Word will not be whipped, buried, or poisoned. In fact, Paul, noting the persistence of the Word for him, says, that because the word is not chained, “[he] bear[s] with everything for the sake of those who are chosen, so that they too may obtain the salvation that is in Christ Jesus…” The Word endure, carries on, lives always. And for this, we must give thanks. You must be the one healed leper in ten who returns to give God thanks, or Christ will wonder about you, “Where are the other nine?”
Before asking how gratitude works for us spiritually, let’s take a moment to explore the possible reasons for being ungrateful. Why do we sometimes fail to give God thanks? First, we may not understand the “giftedness” or “givenness” of our lives, that is, we may not understand the fundamental animating principle of human life. My life, your life is a gift, meaning that that we exist at all is a present from God. God did not need us then. Does not need us now. And will never need us. Reality’s creation from nothing was a gratuitous, singular event, a wholly unnecessary one-time occurrence. The on-going presence of Something rather than Nothing is gratuitous as well. That we are still here is a gift. Second, the psychological motivations we need to accomplish anything often rely on the notion that we achieve our successes and that we fail in our failures. In other words, it seems that in order for us to do anything good at all we must believe that anything we do well results from personal talent and hard work. Why give thanks to someone not directly involved in the work of my success? Of course, this denies the first principle of creation: eveything I am and everything I have is a gift from God. My talent, my drive to work hard, my need to succeed—all are gifts. Third, so delighted are we in our successes we often need to claim total credit in order to feel worthy of the success. If I am to succeed again, I have to come to the conclusion that I am solely responsible for that success. To do anything less is to risk a future failure. Finally, since the first bite of the apple in the garden we have been tempted to believe that we can become god w/o God. One god has no need to thank another god for anything. Our declaration of independence from the engines of divine perfection means that we think we are capable of saving ourselves. All we need for salvation is determination, the right doctrines, sufficient work, and a heart cold enough to reject any outside help offered—human or divine. We fail to give God thanks out of ignorance, pride, a cold heart, and vanity.
Why should we give God thanks? Given what we already know about our creation—that we were created gratuitously—we can see that acknowledging our existence is first and foremost a matter of justice: we owe God our gratitude. Our thanks is due. Our thanks to God is also a matter of acknowledging the most basic truth of our lives: we are creatures created by a Creator. We are not random collections of chemical and electrical processes. We are not genetic productions accidentally generated by ideal climatic conditions. We are beloved creatures, loved by our Creator. And as creatures first loved by God, we love back and give thanks for that love. The spiritual benefit, that is, the advantage that accrues to us when we are grateful to God is an increase in humility, an increase in our appreciation of our givenness, our total dependence on God as our Creator and Sustainer-in-being. Humility is the measure we use to determine the degree to which we are radically aware of our dependence on God. Your humility means that you know you are a gift given for no other reason than to love and be loved.
Here then is the surest way to ruin your life: fail daily to give thanks to God. Get up in the morning and go to bed at night as if you are entitled to everything you have, as if you were owed everything you have received. Get up in the morning and go to bed at night as if you alone achieved all of your successes, as if you orchestrated all your moments of greatness. Go day to day through your life utterly alone, in need of no one, in need of nothing but your own ingenuity and hard work. Grit your teeth when help is offered and say, “No, thank you.” Lock up your heart when a hand reaches out and say, “No thanks.” Shrink back in disgust at yourself and everyone around you when you fall and refuse help. Know in your ungrateful heart that you can do it all by yourself.
Or, you can be trustworthy. You can be grateful and flourish in blessing. You can be the one healed leper who returns to thanks to God. You can be Naaman, who is healed in the
Holy Matrimony: Murphy & Tassin WeddingPaul preaches: “Love is always patient and kind, never jealous, never boastful or conceited, never rude or selfish; love never takes offense, and is not resentful.” The Song of Songs sings, “Love is a flash of fire, a flame of the Lord himself…Love no flood can quench, no torrents drown…love is as strong as Death…” Love, above all, is dangerous! Rains come, gales blow, flood waters rise, lightening strikes, and we are shaken in our bones by the thunder. Love remains. Love remains, more dangerous, more perilous, and never more necessary than right now. Nothing happens without love b/c there is nothing but Love. As the divine passion that took the dark vacuum of nothing and spoke its Word, making all things; as the divine passion that divided day and night, male and female, good and evil, making creation His kingdom; as the divine passion that became Man so that we might share in His life beyond this one—Love is the rock foundation, the indestructible frame, the everlasting Word; Love is the Lord Himself given to us, freely, without cost to us. When we give ourselves to one another in love, we are loved first by God Himself.
What are we without Love? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Paul says, “If I have all the eloquence of men or of angels, but speak without love, I am simply a gong booming or a cymbal clashing.” Song of Songs makes clear that without love we are locked away, mute, crippled, weak; we are jealous, drowned, burned away. Matthew tells us that without the rock of love upon which to build our lives together we are too easily washed away, blown away, fallen. We are nothing…at all. Thanks be to God, then, that we are made to be “ambitious for the higher gifts,” desperate for sweet beauty, the seal of joy on our hearts, the house built against the storms. Paul preaches, “that [we] have faith in all its fullness, to move mountains, but without love, then [we] are nothing at all.” Thanks be to God, then, that when we give ourselves to one another in love, we are loved first by God Himself.
Tara and Jeremy are not here this afternoon to show us how they love one another. They are not here to declare a love that has gone, up until now, unspoken. And we are not here to witness their love—as if we knew nothing about them before now! Tara and Jeremy are here this afternoon to bind themselves together in the sacrament of matrimony, becoming one heart and mind, to show us that God, Who is Love Himself, loves us all first. Once bound together, under vows, Tara and Jeremy become living sacraments, living signs for the rest of us of exactly how and how much God loves us. When Jeremy looks at
Rain comes. Flood waters rise. Gales blow. And all the debris of the storm will be hurled against a house built on the rock of love. Let’s not make the mistake of thinking that love is magic. There is no voodoo in the sacrament this afternoon, no spells or charms that make love easy or simple. Tara and Jeremy both know that being bound together in love is dangerous. There are perils to saying Yes to another. Those beautiful faces aren’t always so pretty. Those sweet voices sometimes crack and screech. Even the strongest arm grows weak with use. The everyday living of life, just moving from sleep to sleep, from breakfast to dinner, can be a storm. There will be dark days. Hard moments. Times when today, looking back, might look like a huge mistake! There is no secret to living through these. No romantic magic to hold you up. There is only your love for one another and the sure promise from God that He loves you more.
Tara and Jeremy, today is the day! You become sacraments of Christ’s love for his Church. Remember: patience, kindness, humility, and selflessness; remember that jealousy and resentment kill a gift quicker than a knife through the heart. Remember that you are not trapped in a marriage but freed in love; not locked in your vows but let loose by them. Remember that you are always ambitious for the higher gifts and that there is no higher gift than that you be Christ for one another—teaching one another, healing one another, feeding one another, loving one another, and perhaps, as Christ did for us, even dying for one another. Remember, finally, this: love delights in the truth; it is always ready to forgive, to trust, to hope, and it will endure whatever comes, whatever comes! Because “love does not come to an end.”
Satan in victory?27th Week OT(F): Joel 1.13-15; 2.1-2 and Luke 11.15-26
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
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Do we gather? Or do we scatter? If we gather with Christ, we gather victories. If we scatter against him, we scatter his victory.
What is the problem with the notion of “spiritual warfare” when “spiritual warfare” is understood to be a fight against the forces of darkness? There are a number of problems. Here’s just two. First, we have to ask, why fight a defeated enemy? What aren’t we doing while we prepare to fight a war we have already won? Focused on fighting Satan, we fail to expend our spiritual resources on the real problem: human disobedience, the failure to hear the Word, to see the Word and to believe with heart, mind, body, and soul that no word or deed of a mere devil can stand against The Word himself. In other words, we play anxiously with a distraction and give the Devil hope.
Second, fighting the defeated Devil is an act of betrayal against Christ. How so? What exactly do you think Christ accomplished on the Cross? What exactly do you think the Empty Tomb testifies to? If the Devil still has power in your life and you need to fight him, then the Cross was always empty and the tomb littered with some rascally rabbi’s bones. Jesus clearly states to the doubters in the crowd, “…if it is by the finger of God that I drive out demons, then the
Our Holy Fathers John Paul II and Benedict XVI teach us that we have come into the Paschal Mystery of Christ in our baptism. Meaning what? Meaning, when we were baptized, we took the first step along the Way to following behind our Lord in his public ministry, his suffering, death and his resurrection—his final victory over death. In other words, following Christ means doing what Christ did, suffering what Christ suffered, dying as Christ died, and rising with him when he rose. Do you believe that Christ was ever subject to Satan? Or that he is subject to Satan now? Of course not! Death is dead. Sin is powerless. The war is over. And Christ is the victor.
If you don’t believe this, then what are you doing here?
