Feeling like a mooch

It never fails to amaze me. . .

. . .the generosity of Catholics in general and HancAquam readers in particular.

Recent activity on the WISH LIST reminds me that even in hard economic times, Catholics are willing to help those in need. . .even when those in need are over-educated Dominican friars writing a thesis and dissertation in the philosophy of science with a ridiculously limited book budget!

Those who have been reading this blog for some time know that I occasionally beg for books. This is humiliating for me. . .in the best sense of that word. Asking for help is not easy for me. I grew up self-reliant in a family of hard workers. I had a full-time job at 16. Worked my way through college and grad school. And to this day, I blush when I have to ask for money from my superiors. Not having a full-time job right now makes me feel like a mooch.

I will tell you a story from my novitiate some day. It involves a broken pair of glasses and my novice-master. Let's just say that as a 35 year old former college teacher who left a well-paying job at a large hospital, asking for what he needed was difficult. Obedience reared its ubiquitous head!

As always, thank you for your generosity. God bless!

How to proclaim the Kingdom?

14th Week OT (Wed): Gen 41.55-57, 42.5-7, 17-24; Matt 10.1-7
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
Sisters of St Mary of Namur

During my early grad school years, I once went with a couple of friends to Mobile, AL to celebrate Madri Gras. We stayed at a downtown bed and breakfast and even managed to make it to Sunday Mass at the cathedral even though none of us were Catholic. I remember walking with friends near one of the city's notorious bars. On the street, a preacher shouted at the revelers to repent of their on-going debauchery and come to Christ. He had signs with scripture verses neatly printed on them. A large, well-worn Bible. At the time, I watched this circus act with seething contempt. With every word the preacher spoke I chomped at the bit to refute him, to call him out as a bigot and an idiot. My friends, knowing my spiritual inclinations and my love of a good debate, steered me clear of this guy, hoping that I wouldn't ruin the fun by engaging a religious freak. Being a good friend, I allowed myself to be deflected back into the festival. But to this day, I remember. I remember his call to repentance; and most of all, his fervor. He was taking Christ's charge to the apostles very seriously, go out and make this proclamation, “The Kingdom of heaven is at hand.” How seriously do we take this charge? And how do we follow his instruction?

In the older history of the Catholic Church, we have numerous examples of preachers taking to the streets to exhort repentance by proclaiming the arrival of the Kingdom. Dominic, Francis, Aquinas, Savonarola, Vincent Ferrer. But for most of us, this sort of loud and proud exhortation on the street is embarrassing. Why is that? What about proclaiming the arrival of the Kingdom and the necessity of repentance embarrass us so? Christ clearly says that we must do it. If we don't do it, why not?

We could say that we shy away from this sort of preaching b/c it tends to put people off. Who wants to hear that they are sinners and need to repent? Maybe we blush b/c it just sounds so strident, so belligerent; we don't like public confrontation. Maybe we are afraid of being challenged in a way that we aren't prepared to answer. Do we want to be associated with what many see as brainless religious fundamentalism? Or maybe, just maybe, we don't really believe that the Kingdom is at hand or that there is any need for repentance. After all, God loves everybody just as they are. Why exhort people to change? It sounds so controlling, so much like we want to dominate those who disagree with us. OK. Fair enough. But what do we do with Christ's clear instruction to preach the arrival of the Kingdom?

The standard answer here is to say that there are many ways to announce the Kingdom. Street-preaching is one but not mine. Don't we announce the Kingdom at Mass? When we work at the homeless shelter? When we protest for just immigration policy? Yes, it's possible. But virtuous pagans can work for the poor and immigrants. They can even attend Mass! What makes what we do any different from what anyone conscious of social injustice would do? There's a philosophical difference at play. Certainly a religious difference. But the difference that matters is that we do what we do for the greater glory of God. We are sent to seduce the human heart back to God. We are sent to be the Face of Christ for all those who have not seen or heard the gospel. And to those who have seen and heard but turned away. If we preach for any other reason, we are being disobedient.

The bonus of our ministry is that in proclaiming the Kingdom and the necessity of repentance to others, we are forcefully preaching to ourselves that we too are in need of repentance, in need of being reminded that the Kingdom is at hand. We cannot lose this humility. And maybe that's why excited street preaching is so unappealing—it's looks and sounds prideful. I've got what you need. Where's the humility in that? The truth is: Christ and his Church have what we ALL need. Can we say that with love and not sound condescending? We can, if our deeds match our words. Proclaiming the Kingdom without doing kingdom-works is a waste of breath. Doing kingdom-works without proclaiming the kingdom is a waste of calories. Words and deeds reveal the Lord for all to see and all to hear. Most especially to those who would dare to preach his gospel.

Media Spinning the New Encyclical (surprise!)

With yesterday's release of Pope Benedict XVI's latest encyclical, Caritas in veritate, the left media are predictably playing up what they imagine to be the Holy Father's progressive socio-economic views on globalization, poverty, capitalism, etc. As usual, they are wrong.

The one element of the encyclical that has Catholics on the left and right all bound up in their twisted knickers--some delighted, some not so much--is the Holy Father's call for a "world political authority." When I read horrified/excited reactions to this proposal I have to wonder if folks are doing nothing more than reading the document with the "FIND" function, looking for hot-button words and phrases.

Catholicism is notoriously subtle and complex. No single element of our faith stands alone. No one thing dominates in such a way that it overwhelms all the other elements. Though I hate this hippie-ish metaphor, it is very descriptive. . .our faith is a tightly woven clothe that needs every strand, every stitch to maintain its strength. Every fiber of our faith depends on every other. Yes, some elements are more important in conveying the truth of divine revelation than others, but even these fundamental truths are inextricably tied to all the other truths and only half-understood without the proper background and context.

For example, do not read the Holy Father's call for a global political authority without also paying careful attention to his teaching on the necessity of subsidiarity (para 57). No internationalist who longs to eliminate national governments and turn real political power over to a U.N.-like body will be happy with the Pope's teaching on the proper scope of such a body:

Subsidiarity is first and foremost a form of assistance to the human person via the autonomy of intermediate bodies. Such assistance is offered when individuals or groups are unable to accomplish something on their own, and it is always designed to achieve their emancipation, because it fosters freedom and participation through assumption of responsibility. Subsidiarity respects personal dignity by recognizing in the person a subject who is always capable of giving something to others. By considering reciprocity as the heart of what it is to be a human being, subsidiarity is the most effective antidote against any form of all-encompassing welfare state. It is able to take account both of the manifold articulation of plans — and therefore of the plurality of subjects — as well as the coordination of those plans. Hence the principle of subsidiarity is particularly well-suited to managing globalization and directing it towards authentic human development. In order not to produce a dangerous universal power of a tyrannical nature, the governance of globalization must be marked by subsidiarity, articulated into several layers and involving different levels that can work together. Globalization certainly requires authority, insofar as it poses the problem of a global common good that needs to be pursued. This authority, however, must be organized in a subsidiary and stratified way, if it is not to infringe upon freedom and if it is to yield effective results in practice (n. 57).

Nothing in this encyclical should give an internationalist with collectivist dreams of a secular utopia much comfort. The Holy Father is clearly opposed to any sort of Global Nanny State modeled on the E.U., or a U.N.-like body with law-enforcement and taxation powers. All through the letter, Benedict emphasizes over and over again the necessity of respecting the dignity of the human person, personal and communal freedom to associate and flourish, and the need for all socio-economic policies to be based on the unbreakable bond between charity and objective truth. There is an entire chapter on the absolute right to religious freedom. This is not something a globalist with secular messianic tendencies will applaud.

I found this brief fisking of media attempts to spin this encyclical leftward very helpful.

Also keep in mind, the Catholic Church transcends trite American political labels. As intellectual shortcuts, "liberal," "conservative," etc. make a lot of sense in the U.S. They make absolutely no sense when applied to the Church. Are you a liberal or a conservative when you insist that all people are created in the image and likeness of God and justly deserve the permanent protection of their dignity as such over and against something as temporary as a national government?

Let let the media spin you. The Holy Father's encyclical is Catholic. Not Republican. Not Democrat. Or socialist or capitalist or anything else but the orthodox teaching of the Body of Christ.

The just face of God

14th Week OT (Tues): Gen 32.22-33; Ps 17.1-15; Matt 9.32-38
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
Sisters of St Mary of Namur

A child of the Lord has been silenced by a demon. Jesus heals this man's tongue and he speaks. Those in the crowd are amazed. The Pharisees are scandalized and accuse Jesus of cavorting with the demons themselves. We might ask ourselves, why does Jesus take the time to heal a man whose voice has been silenced by a demon? As interesting as this question is, there is one even more interesting for those of us vowed to preach the gospel: given all of the evil things a demon could do to this man, why would it silence a child of the Lord?

To answer this question we must remember a fundamental teaching of the Second Vatican Council on the nature of God's Self-revelation. From Dei verbum: “In His goodness and wisdom God chose to reveal Himself and to make known to us the hidden purpose of His will...This plan of revelation is realized by deeds and words...God, who through the Word creates all things and keeps them in existence, gives men an enduring witness to Himself in created realities”(DV 2, 3). God wills to reveal Himself to His people. Through Christ and in the Holy Spirit we have access to the Father, so that we might “come to share in the divine nature”(2). The enduring witness, that is, the accessible historical testimony to the power and glory of God, is given in His “created realities,” most especially in that creation that is His image and likeness: the human person. If God's “plan of revelation is realized by [His] deeds and words” in history, and the enduring witness to His revelation is carried by the created reality of the human person, then it follows that the words and deeds of the human person may share in the divine nature and mission and serve to proclaim His gospel. When our words and deed properly align with the just will of the Father, we advance His plan of salvation; we reveal Who He is and what He does. No wonder then the demon muted this man's tongue! No words, no deeds: no witness; no witness to God: no gospel, no truth, no justice or peace.

At 5am CDT, the Holy Father's long-awaited encyclical on socio-economic justice arrived. Entitling his letter “Caritas in veritate,” (Charity in Truth), Pope Benedict shows all those with opened eyes to see and ears to hear that the words and deeds that accomplish God's plan for salvation are done and spoken only when the human work of charity is done in the light of truth. How providential is it that our psalm refrain this morning echoes this fundamental truth: “In justice, I shall behold your face, O Lord”? This is not the justice we sometimes hope to find in legal procedure, or the redistribution of wealth, or the social engineering of utopian ideology. All of these human works can be done without God's love. All of these can be done in ways that violate human dignity, that further degrade and destroy God's creation. The peace and justice we long for, the peace and justice we were created and re-created to enjoy and share is found in the our created purpose: “From you, O Lord, let my judgment come; your eyes behold what is right.” From scripture, from God's created realities, from the unique and final revelation of the divine nature, Christ Jesus, from these must we take our judgments and behold what is right.

Demons silence us everyday, every hour. We sell our witness to compromise. We borrow against the value of our witness in order to buy political favor. We pawn our words and deeds in the false hope that one day soon the “signs of the times” will make our witness fashionable. Compromise, political favor, and trendy causes nail the just tongue to a stubborn jaw. It is truth that sets the just tongue free. No truth: no justice, no peace.

I will let the Holy Father end this homily. He writes that each man and woman “finds his good by adherence to God's plan for him, in order to realize it fully: in this plan, he finds his truth, and through adherence to this truth he becomes free. To defend the truth, to articulate it with humility and conviction, and to bear witness to it in life are therefore exacting and indispensable forms of charity. Charity, in fact, 'rejoices in the truth'. . .In Christ, charity in truth becomes the Face of his Person, a vocation for us to love our brothers and sisters in the truth of his plan. Indeed, he himself is the Truth” (CV 1).

Are you a memorial stone?

14th Week OT (Mon): Gen 28.10-22; Matt 9-18-26
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
Sisters of St. Mary of Namur, Ft. Worth, TX


Let no one say I am easily persuaded. It took the Holy Spirit seventeen years to track me down, show me my priestly vocation, listen to all of lame my excuses, and then beat me into submission. Don't get me wrong: I'm delighted the Lord won that fight, painful and protracted as it was—for me, that is. What's that line from the Psalms, “Do not be a stubborn mule, needing bridle and bit...”? Looking back to 1981, standing in the central plaza of the National Cathedral of Mexico, just a few feet from the newly-opened Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe, Jacob's wondrous outburst from Genesis this morning makes a whole lotta sense to me now: "Truly, the Lord is in this spot, although I did not know it!" Looking back, when was the Lord with you without you knowing it? How did you come to recognize his presence? And did you follow Jacob's example and leave a “memorial stone”?

When I begin a theology class I always quiz the students to find out just how much Platonism they have absorbed from our popular culture. The surest way to figure this out is to ask them about how they understand the relationship between the body and the soul. Almost without exception they see themselves as struggling souls trapped in treacherous bodies. The soul yearns to be free but the ugly needs of the flesh anchor them to a world of temptation and vice. These same students carry rosaries and prayer cards, have statues of saints in their dorm rooms, pray before the Blessed Sacrament, and argue that churches are holier places than gyms, cafeterias, and pubs. Despite this easy acceptance of the basic Catholic notion that God uses His creation to reveal Himself to us, these students resist the obvious next step: their bodies too are part of God's Self-revelation, and as such, they themselves are “memorial stones” marking the presence of the Lord!

Let's ask ourselves again: Looking back, when was the Lord with me without me knowing it? How did I come to recognize his presence? And did I follow Jacob's example and leave a “memorial stone”? From Matthew's gospel we are hear that a woman suffering from hemorrhages touches the tassels of Jesus' cloak. She is healed. The recently deceased daughter of an official is returned to life. How? Her loving father simply asserts that Jesus' touch will revive her. Jesus does nothing. The woman's faith saves her. The father's faith saves his daughter. Jesus comes to each of them as a touchstone, a living revelation and a memory. Just “being there with them” is enough. If we are to be Christs for others, this is our work as well: to be walking, talking revelations of God; memorial stones of His presence. Just as we are and wherever we are, we are living signs of the way, the truth, and the life. But because not one of us is yet perfected in Christ, we come together in the Church to be a collective sign on the Way—a body of believers who despite our warts and scars nonetheless serve anyone who will follow.

Jacob set a memorial stone in the ground and poured oil over it, renaming the stone and founding a new city. When we were baptized and confirmed—washed in water and anointed with oil—we too were renamed and set as stones in the foundations of the Church. Look in the mirror, look into the eyes of a sister here, or a student, or even a stranger, and say with Jacob in his wonder: “This...memorial stone [is] God's abode." And know that Lord is with us. . .always with us.

Thus says the Lord God. . .

14th Sunday OT: Ez 2.2-5; 2 Cor 12.7-10; Mark 6.1-6
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
Sisters of St Mary of Namur, Forth Worth, TX

Prophets are a cheap and abundant source of nonsense these days. Every sort of weirdo has a theory, a revelation, a scheme, or a vision from Beyond. No wonder, really. Can we say that the fabric of our faith is as tightly knitted as it needs to be to keep us cozy in this winter of spiritual chaos? When the foundations of all that we believe start to throw us about, most any voice in the racket sounds like a voice of authority. Persistent sexual scandals, financial malfeasance, abuse of power, dissent and rebellion—and all of these just within the Church!—all of these potholes on the Way jolt our certainties and sometimes they even bump us into despair. In these moments of upheaval there always seems to be a guru, a savior, or a prophet just outside our purview who's all too willing to speak up and promise to lead us back to whatever it is we think we need to be safe—health, wealth, sanity, wholeness, or holiness. Usually, if we succumb to fear or anger or the need for a show of defiance, and we buy the snake-oil, usually we end up defeated and more beat-up than when we begin. Beware self-anointed prophets bearing pricey prophecy! Being “hard of face and obstinate of heart” is easy. Humility, right reason, and holy obedience is difficult—not impossible!—just very, very difficult.

The prophets that speak to us this morning are well-known and reliable: Ezekiel, Paul, and Christ himself. No doubt they look the part of a prophet, like men who have spent too much time in the deserts of foreign lands. They certainly sound like the prophets we are used to hearing. The self-anointed prophets of postmodern Western culture could be wearing lab coats, three-piece suits, habits or clerics, or even casual sportswear; they could be sporting advanced degrees in physics, medicine, genetics, or theology; they could sound like gurus, even reasonable scientists, hawking new cosmologies, novel technologies, fresh political solutions, or global spiritualities. They can all name our worst fears, our deepest angers, our most pressing anxieties. They can speak a word to calm our stormed tossed spirits. What they cannot and will not name is the Love in our souls. What they do not speak is the Word. They do not and will not say, “Thus says the Lord God...” And these differences make a great deal of difference.

Ezekiel is consumed in the voice of God. Paul is struck blind and pierced by a thorn in his flesh. Jesus is spurned in his own hometown, ridiculed as no one other than “the son of Mary, and the brother of James and Joseph and Judas and Simon.” Ezekiel is sent to the rebellious Israelites to reteach the Good News of an ancient love. Paul is sent to the Gentiles with the Good News of the Father's mercy. Jesus is sent to the whole of creation as the Good News himself, the very Incarnate Word of divine love and mercy. All three prophets are sent to accomplish one mission: to speak the Word to God's people, and in so doing, bringing them all back into a covenant; reminding, renewing, and revealing the foundational promises of the Creator.

Look closely at what the prophets in scripture actually do and do not do. They do not create. They point to the Creator. They do not invent or innovate. They point to the Inventor, the Innovator Himself. They do not preach revolution and rebellion for the sake of novelty. They call us to revolutionize our hard faces and cold hearts. They rouse us to rebel against the slavery of alien philosophies and foreign gods. They do not urge God's people to abandon His promises of liberation in favor of worldly guarantees, the empty pledges that prop us up with domination, wealth, prestige, violence, and oppression. God's anointed prophets give voice to and work for the least against the most, for the worst against the best, for the lowest against the highest. When the most, the best, and the highest are where they are b/c they have stepped on and broken the least, the worst, and the lowest, God's anointed prophet will speak His Word of justice and demand a righteous revolution. Not something as mundane and temporary as a government program or a social action agency. Not something as ultimately useless as a financial entitlement or a paper-weight patch on the justice system. God's anointed prophet will first demand that the hard face and cold heart of injustice be melted in the overwhelming Love that gave His creation life! Then this prophet will say, “Thus says the Lord God: you will not treat my beloved children as things, as slaves; you will not use my children as disposable means to your selfish ends; you will not love simply for worldly gain, pretend faith for public praise, nor spread hope to hide your oppression. You love b/c I loved you first!”

As men and women baptized into the life, death, and resurrection of Christ Jesus, we have vowed to be faithful to God, just to our neighbors, hopeful in crisis, loving to all, joyful even as we weep, and as eager to show mercy as we are to seek mercy. The key to our lives as prophets is not scientific novelty, theological innovation, philosophical nuance, or even spiritual practice. Our prophetic key is humility—the certain and daily-lived knowledge that we are creatures of a loving God, wholly dependent, utterly reliant on the Love that gave us and gives us life. There is no other source of identity for us. No other means of doing what we have vowed our lives to do. Ezekiel is consumed in the voice of God. Paul is plagued by a thorn in his flesh. Jesus himself is rejected by his hometown folks. Their humility fuels a righteous fire for God's justice not a self-righteous grudge against the status-quo. Self-anointed prophets in lab coats, suits, or vestments might tempt us with a genetic or economic or religious utopia, but we know that any prophet who will not and cannot say, “Thus says the Lord God...,” we know that they are false prophets.

Our Father's gifts are sufficient for us, for our power as His prophets is made perfect in humility.

Book Beggin'

I am finally settled in one place for a while! Woo-hoo!

Now, to get back to work.

I haven't begged for books in a long time. . .and despite this lapse in mendicancy on my part, several of you generous folks continue to fire books my way. As always: you don't know how much your generosity helps to keep my student budget in line. . .especially given the uncertainties in the costs of travel these days.

Though I make good use of any library I can, the amount of travel I have to do this summer to fulfill my commitments makes it hard to use local libraries. Also, to be honest, most public libraries don't exactly stock my kinda books. TCU is right down the street, so I may give them a visit.

Anyway, if you are willing and able, please visit the WISH LIST and consider sending a book my way. The first six or seven on the list are the most directly relevant to my reading this summer and the least likely to be found in the Angelicum's limited philosophy of science holdings. Don't be shy about buying USED books. . .if it's legible, it ain't gotta be pretty.

God bless you all! (Sunday homily is in the works)

P.S. I completely forgot to mention this on Friday. . .July 3rd was the 5th anniversary of my ordination as a deacon. I assisted at a first Mass on the 4th of July. . .in England!

4th of July 2007 Homily (re=post)

Reviewed this homily from the 4th of July 2007. . .in light of the upcoming socio-economic encyclical from the Holy Father, I thought it might make a moderately interesting re-read:

Independence Day USA (4^th of July): Isa 32.15-18 and Luke 12.15-21
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
St. Albert the Great Priory, Irving, TX

If we were to look to our country for signs of the Lord’s favor, what would we find? First, would we even recognize signs of the Lord’s favor? Can we tell the difference between what the Lord has given us all as a gift and what we have earned by our ingenuity and hard work? It’s a trick question, of course. For us, that is, for Christians, there is no difference really between what we work to earn and what the Lord gives us. Those skills, those attitudes of industry and creativity, all of those spirits of innovation, commerce, longing for growth, all of it, everything we use to work for our prosperity is first given to us by God. Whatever abundance, whatever excess, whatever generous plenty that we enjoy as a result of sweat, bent backs, calloused hands, or talented minds hurting at the edges of possibility; whatever good or truth or beauty we build; all bounty, all harvest, all of our riches as individuals, as a nation of citizens and immigrants, and as a tribe of priests and prophets baptized in the death and resurrection of Christ, all we call mine, ours, and theirs is first and always the treasure of our God; His abundance first, then His gift to us in grace, and only then do we rightly call this nation’s material and spiritual flourishing “a blessing.”

Isaiah reminds us because we forget: “In those days: the spirit from on high will be poured out on us”. . .then the desert becomes an orchard and the orchard a forest; right and justice will live in the desert and orchard and God’s “people will live in peaceful country…” God says to Isaiah, “My people will live in peaceful country, in secure dwellings and quiet resting places.” When do we forget this peace? When do we forget that our wealth is a gift and not a right?

There is a forgetfulness in wealth that poverty holds at bay. The prophetic witness of scripture testifies to the inherent dangers of possessing too much. Perhaps it is more accurate to say that scripture warns against the dangers of believing that and behaving as if we possess anything at all. The greater the imaginary treasury, the more tightly the acquisitive imagination binds the greedy dreamer to things and their accumulation and security. Bigger barns! More treasure! Bigger barns! More and more treasure…! Better locks, tighter control, limited access. Mine, mine, mine. And the narcotic stupor of acquiring without giving thanks, of possessing without surrendering to generosity, of storing up without abandoning to divine providence, that sedating haze of entitlement clouds the presence of the Spirit and we fail in our avarice—just me, just you, and all of us as one in a nation—we fail in greed to look back at the font of our blessing, to remember, and to put our faith in the only place where it cannot be exhausted: the heart of Christ Jesus!

We can celebrate our independence from the British Empire today. (I have it one good authority that they were more than happy to cut us loose!) We can celebrate political and economic freedom, religious and press freedom; we can even celebrate a certain material prosperity that comes from our long and assertive history as entrepreneurial capitalists and proponents of enlightenment democracy. But if these are godly treasures, harvests gleaned from a divine bounty, then they cannot be stored, cannot be hoarded in barns of privilege, heredity, merit, or in anything as flimsy and accidental as nationality or race. Some will argue that as Americans our claim to be heroes of a progressive manifest destiny ended in Vietnam. That’s a question for historians. Here’s a question for us Christians who would be heroes (American or not!): will you surrender—in absolute trust—all that you have, all that you are; abandon entirely your life and your things, hiding nothing, holding nothing back; sacrificing for the good of others your bountiful harvest to the Source of your life and all your wealth?

If so, you are free already. And today is truly a day to rejoice in the independence of the Lord!

Two Revolutions

Independence Day: Genesis 27.1-5, 15-29; Matthew 9.14-17
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
Sisters of St Mary of Namur, Fort Worth, TX

Jesus says to John's disciples, “No one patches an old cloak with a piece of unshrunken cloth...People do not put new wine into old wineskins.” What does this bit of homespun wisdom have to do with weddings, fasting, the Pharisees, mourning the death of a bridegroom, and the price of camels in Jerusalem? Better yet: what do any of these have to do with the American Revolution and this country's declaration of independence from the tyranny Old King George? Is Jesus teaching us to party while we can b/c we won't be around forever? Is he arguing that we ought to be better stewards of our antiques—human and otherwise? Or maybe he's saying that the time will come when the older ways can no longer be patched up and something fundamentally new must replace what we have always had, always known. When “the way we have always done it” no longer takes us where we ought to go; when the wineskin, the camel, the cloak no longer holds its wine, hauls its load, or keep us warm, it's time to start thinking about a trip to the market to haggle for something new.

We celebrate two revolutions today: one temporal and one eternal, one local and the other cosmic. The political revolution freed a group of colonies in the New World from the corruption of an old and dying Empire. The spiritual revolution freed all of creation from the chains of sin and death. Today, we give God thanks and praise for the birth of the United States of America by celebrating our 4th of July freedoms. And we give God thanks and praise for the birth, death, and resurrection of Christ by celebrating this Eucharist, the daily revolution that overthrows the regime of sin and spiritual decay.

The revolution of 1776 not only toppled the imperial rule of George III in the American colonies, but it also founded a way of life that celebrates God-gifted, self-evident, and unalienable human rights as the foundation of all civil government and social progress. The revolution that Christ led and leads against the wiles and temptations of the world fulfills the promise of our Father to bring us once again into His Kingdom—not a civil kingdom ruled by laws and fallible hearts, but a heavenly kingdom where we will do His will perfectly and thereby live more freely than we ever could here on earth. In no way do we understand this kingdom as simply some sort of future reward for good behavior. This is no pie in the sky by and by. Though God's kingdom has come with the coming of Christ, we must live as bodies and souls here and now, perfecting that imperfect portion of the kingdom we know and love. No revolution succeeds immediately. No revolution fulfills every promise at the moment of its birth. The women and slaves of the newly minted United States can witness to this hard fact. That we continue to sin, continue to fail, continue to rebel against God's will for us is evidence enough that we do not yet live in fullest days of the Kingdom. But like any ideal, any program for perfecting the human heart and mind, we can live to the limits of our imperfect natures, falling and trying again, knowing that we are loved by Love Himself. With diligence. With trust. With hope. With one another in the bonds of Christ's love, we can do more than live lackluster lives of mediocre compliance. We can work out our salvation in the tough love of repentance and forgiveness, the hard truths of mercy and holiness.

Christ is with us. The Bridegroom has not abandoned us. His revolution continues so long as one of us is eager to preach his Word, teach his truth, do his good works. Today and everyday, we are free. And even as we celebrate our civil independence from tyranny, we must bow our heads to the Father and give Him thanks for creating us as creatures capable of living freely, wholly in the possibility of His perfection.

Coffee Cup Browsing

Sigh. . .since returning to the New World I've been reduced to drinking my coffee from a cup. It's just not the same. . .

Disobedience is harming the Church (duh)

. . .and speaking of disobedience

That Bearded Menace, Mark Shea now has 163 followers. We can't let him shame us! Become a HancAquam Follower (see right side bar).

The joys of motherhood

I've changed my mind. . .those New Age self-help books are awesome!

The Communist party

A skeptical credo. . .I'd say it's more a cynic's credo

No question, no answer. . .so what?

Transcript of the famous debate btw Bertrand Russell and Fr. Copleston on the existence of God

Someone famous has died

My prayer book's Table of Contents (Updated)

My prayer book is headed to the printers!

Here's the Table of Contents for Treasures Old and New: Traditional Prayers for Today's Catholics, Vol. 1. *

Introduction: A Theology of Prayer

Part One: The Novenas

Credo Novena

Novena for Faith

Novena for Hope

Novena for Love

Novena on the Lord’s Prayer

Psalm Novena for Growth in Holiness

Novena of the Four Dominican Pillars

Novena to the Sacred Heart of Jesus

Novena for Detachment and Holy Obedience

Novena for Discernment of a Priestly Vocation

Part Two: The Litanies

Litany of God the Father

Litany of Jesus, Priest and Sacrifice

Litany of the Most Holy Trinity

Litany to the Infant Jesus

Litany to Mary, Co-Redemptrix

Litany to the Unsayable God

Part Three: The Way-Truth-Life Rosary

Part Four: Prayers

Prayer for an Examination of Conscience

The ABC Prayer for Conversion

Prayer Before Reconciliation

Prayer After Reconciliation

For a Dark Night of the Soul

Daily Morning Prayer

Daily Evening Prayer

*Vol. 2 will contain the more "mystical" prayers, including three novenas: via Positiva, via Negativa, and via Sophia. Also, this volume will contain the Litany to Mary, Co-redemptrix.

Catholic Charities Blog

One of my former U.D. students and current seminarian for the Diocese of Austin, Sean DeWitt is blogging for Catholic Charities.

Currently, he is writing about the ministry of C.C. in the context of Catholic social teaching.

Check him out! And be sure to leave him some comments.

Back in TX

I have arrived back in Irving. . .

Many thanks for the prayers!

In a few days, I will be moving to Fort Worth for the month of July.

Regular blogging will resume once I am settled into my summer work.

Fr. Philip

P.S.: Thank you as well for all the activity on the WISH LIST! I was able to get a significant amount of reading done while in MS, including Kuhn's The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. If there are any scientists out there who have read this book I'd love to hear your thoughts. As a literary theorist, I am sympathetic to Kuhn's thesis, but I know that many working scientists take exception to it.

"Who, if I cried out. . .?"

12th Sunday OT: Job 38.1, 8-11; 2 Cor 5.14-17; Mark 4.35-41
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
Aquinas Institute of Theology, St Louis, MO

However wise his heart, Job stands before the glory of God and pitches one question after another to his creator. Anguish and hope race one another on the battlefield of his confusion and despair, and all his suffering explodes into a single, bellowed question: “Why?!” Why have I lost? Why am I in pain? Why have those I love most been made to suffer? We may ask along with Job, “I stand under the weight of my cross, trusting that it will not break my back so long as Christ is with me, but why must its load fall so heavily on my family, friends, and neighbors?” Surely it is enough that I labor in hope against the inevitable scores of loss and retreat. Surely my eager willingness to play this game, to fight this battle is proof enough that living well with God is worth the effort. And even as we protest against the cosmic injustice of death and desolation, we know that all of our complaints, all our questions, all our doubts are dissolved on the Cross, dispersed by iron nails, and exhausted not by a cry of “Why?” but by a bloodied surrender, by sacrificial forgiveness. Do we as children of the Father suffer well? What does it take to transform the anguish of our losses, our retreats into joy?

In the first elegy of his Dunio Elegies, the German poet, Rainer Maria Rilke asks, “Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels' hierarchies?” Against the background noise of stars giving birth and dying away, against the din of whole galaxies colliding in the void, who “up there” can hear our questions? Who would glance our way? For that matter, who cares enough to bend an ear? Knowing the odds, Rilke notes the smallness of his cry, “Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels' hierarchies? and even if one of them pressed me suddenly against his heart: I would be consumed in its overwhelming existence.” In the face of such superabundant Being, do we dare protest our suffering? Do we risk annihilation for the small pleasure of complaint? The risk of asking any question is that the answer itself will be an occasion of suffering. He writes, “For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror, which we still are just able to endure, and we are so awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.” Why? Because “every angel is terrifying.”

Let’s risk the questions and pray that the answering angels are not so beautiful: do we as children of the Father suffer well? What does it take to transform the anguish of our losses, our retreats into joy? First, there is suffering and then there is suffering well. That we will know pain and loss is as inevitable as the tides. So long as we live, we will feel the cuts, the bruises, the breaks. We will mourn and count our defeats. We will betray and be betrayed; sell into slavery and be sold. We will grow bent, blind, deaf, and addled. We will hear NO when YES is the only way to flourish, or to survive. And we will endure injustice, refused our rightful due for no other reason than that someone more powerful, more prominent wants what is ours. Despite our protests, despite our righteous cries, that we will suffer is a cosmic given. There is no question about this. The question for the Father’s children is: will we suffer well? And if we long to suffer well, how do we do it? How do we transform our anguish into joy?

Out of the storm God answers Job: “Who shut within doors the sea, when it burst forth from the womb […]?” Who made the sea? Who fashioned the tides? Who said to the raging waters, “Thus far shall you come but no farther, and here shall your proud waves be stilled!” At the beginning of everything, who was it that took nothing, and with a word, made it all? Including you. Job dared his questions and his answering angel terrified him with the beauty of this truth: you are a creature, a being fashioned from dust and breathed into life. That you exist at all is a gift. Especially loved though you are, before you ever existed there was light and darkness. There was birth and death. There were stars and planets and animals on the land and in the sea and birds in the air and plants by the billions in uncountable varieties. Especially loved though you are, you have come late to this creation, be humble and know your place in the order of things, trusting always that I AM is with you.

In the midst of a violent storm all their own, and like Job, fearful of chance and accident, the disciples cry out to the Lord for rescue: "’Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’" Jesus woke up, rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Quiet! Be still!" The wind ceased and there was great calm. Then he asked them, "’Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?’" Jesus is not telling them that their faith alone could calm a violent storm. He is not rebuking them for their failure to wield a magical power. Rather he’s telling them that their lack of faith is the source of their terror. The violent storm they have failed to calm is the tempest found in every faithless heart. With the storm calmed “they were filled with great awe and said to one another, "’Who then is this whom even wind and sea obey?’" He is the one who breathed a word over nothing at all and brought everything into being. He is the one who is with us always.

When the violent storms of sickness and mourning crash against our vulnerable bodies, we cannot be faulted for wondering why we are being made to suffer so. As rational creatures gifted with compassion, we naturally question the accidental nature of creation and wonder why it could not have been made differently. When we ask “why?” we want to know the cause of, the reason for. And even though we know that our bodies randomly break down, that our machines often fail, that our loves sometimes go unreturned, we desire purpose; we desire a rationale. To say that this or that disaster was accidental is not enough. It is too much to believe that we suffer by probability, by random chance. It is too much to have our doubts dismissed as wishful thinking. So, we ask why, and we expect an answer. And while we wait, we hope that our answering angel is not too beautiful to bear.

Paul does not answer us. Instead, he teaches us a awesome truth: “[…] whoever is in Christ is a new creation: the old things have passed away; behold, new things have come.” As creatures of dust and divine love destined to be dust again, we live and move and have our being in a newer creation, a newer cosmic order that sets chance and suffering and death against our Father’s promise of eternal life. In the order of things we sit above the angels as sons and daughters of the King, heirs to His dominion. We are wholly loved by Love Himself, created and re-created in His Divine Word, Christ Jesus. When we suffer, we suffer best when we faithfully set our pain and loss among the promises already fulfilled by the dying and rising again of our Lord.

God answered Job by showing him the whirling universe in all its created glory, the material expression of His divine majesty. What pain or loss would not be blinded by His light? As creatures remade in Christ, can we experience a loss that was not offered in sacrifice on the altar of the Cross? Is there a way for us to suffer that Christ himself has not redeemed into joy? Our faith in the Father’s promises is not a talisman that protects us from the vagaries of daily living. Our faith gives suffering a purpose beyond the aches and hurts that come with being embodied souls. With Christ we have died already. And with Christ we will rise again. No loss, no pain, no retreat can stand against a ever living joy. In all humility, suffer. But suffer well, knowing that you are a new creation in Christ Jesus.

Corpus Christi 2007 (repost)

Since I am traveling today, a repost seems in order. . .

11 June 2007

Deep fired Sacramentum Caritatis with pork gravy

Corpus Christi: Gen 14.18-20; 1 Cor 11.23-26; Luke 9.11-17
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
Church of the Incarnation, University of Dallas

These are a few of my favorite things: Buttermilk dripped and deep-fried chicken. Butter beans with bacon and onions. Garlic mashed potatoes and chicken gravy. Greens with fatback and vinegar. Squash casserole, green bean casserole, sweet potato casserole with pecans and brown sugar crust. Deviled eggs. Warm biscuits with honey butter. Homemade, cast-iron skillet cornbread with real butter. Fresh yeast rolls. Pecan pie. Chocolate pie. Mississippi Mud Cake. Bread pudding with whiskey sauce. Can you tell I’m a true blood Southerner?!* Each of these and all of them together do more than just expand my waistline and threaten the structural integrity of my belt—each and all of them together make up for me a palette of memories, a buffet (if you will!) of powerful reminders of who I am, where I came from, who I love, who loves me, and where I am going. Second perhaps only to sex, eating is one of the most intimate things we do. Think about it for just a second: when you eat, you take into your body stuff from the world—meat, vegetables, water, tea—you put this stuff in your mouth, you chew, you taste and feel, you smell and swallow, and all of it, every bite, becomes your body. This is extraordinarily intimate! You are made up of, built out of what you eat.

What does it mean then for you, for us to eat the Body of Christ and to drink his Blood?

Thomas Aquinas answers: “Since it was the will of God’s only-begotten Son that men should share in his divinity, he assumed our nature in order that by becoming man he might make men gods.” God became man so that we all might become god. In Christ Jesus, we are made more than holy, more than just, more than righteous; we are made perfect. Wholly joined to Holy Other, divinized as God promised at the moment of creation, we are brought to the divine by the Divine and given our participation in the life of God by God. We are brought and given. Brought to Him by Him and given to Him by Him. We do not go to God uninvited and we do not take from Him what is not first given. Therefore, “take, eat, this is my body, which is given up for you…” And when you take the gift of his body and eat and when you take the gift of his blood and drink, you become what you eat and drink. You become Christ. And together we are Christ for one another—his Body, the church.

Thomas calls the Eucharist the “sacramentum caritatis,” the sacrament of love. The Eucharist is not a family picnic or Sunday dinner. We’re not talking about a community meal or a neighborhood buffet. All of these can and do express genuine love for God, self, and neighbor. But Thomas is teaching us something far more radical about the Eucharist here than the pedestrian notion that eating together makes us better people and a stronger community! The sacramentum caritatis is an efficacious sign of God’s gift of Himself to us for our perfection. In other words, the Eucharist we celebrate this morning is not just a memorial, just a symbol, just a community prayer service, just a familial gathering, just a ritual. In Christ, with him and through him, we effect—make real and produce—the redeeming graces of Calvary and the Empty Tomb: Christ on the cross and Christ risen from the grave. Again, we are not merely being reminded of an important bible story nor are we being taught a lesson about sharing and caring nor are we simply “feeling” Christ’s presence among us. We are doing exactly what Christ tells us to do: we are eating his body and drinking his blood for our perfection, for our eternal lives. And while we wait for his coming again, we walk this earth as Christs! Imperfect now, to be perfected eventually; but right now, radically loved by Love Himself and loved so that we may be changed, converted from our disobedience, brought to repentance and forgiveness, and absolved of all violence against God’s will for us.

Thomas teaches us that God gave us the Eucharist in order “to impress the vastness of [His] love more firmly upon the hearts of the faithful…” How vast is His love for us? He gifted us with His Son. He gave His only child up to death so that we might live. And He gave us the means of our most intimate communion with Him. We take his body into our bodies. His blood into ours. We are made heirs, brothers and sisters, prophets and priests; we are made holy, just, and clean; we are made Christ and being made Christ, we are given his ministries, his holy tasks: teaching, preaching, healing, feeding. This Eucharist tells you who you are, where you came from, where you are going. It tells you why you are here and what you must do. And most importantly, this celebration of thanksgiving, tells you and me who it is that loves us and what being loved by Love Himself means for our sin, our repentance, our conversion, our ministries, our progress in holiness…

Do not fail to hand on what you yourself have received: the gift of the Christ. Walk out those doors this morning and present yourself to the world as a sacramentum caritatis. Walk out of here a sacrament of love—a sign, a witness, a cipher, an icon—walk out of here stamped with the Holy Spirit. Preach, teach, bless, feed, eat, drink, pray, and spread the infectious joy of the children of God!

A Southern blessing: as your waist expands to fill the limits of your belt, so may your spirit grow to hold the limitless love of Him Who loves us always.

*NB. To answer a question asked after Mass about my menu, "Yes, I can cook every dish listed here!" Oh, and I forgot "grits."